You Want to Put That Where?

I did not realize it had been so long since my last post, and so much has happened since then, that there is no way possible to bring you current in one post, however I will talk about the major things that have been going on with us....okay, mainly me. Yup, this post is going to be all about me, muwahahaha.

So I am a published author now. I contributed a chapter in an anthology titled Survival: Living Life by Design. I get a little into my childhood growing up with a mother who suffered from undiagnosed mental illness. The full book is now with my editor/literary agent and will soon be released.

But besides finding time to write books, work full time, be a mother and wife, and launch a photography business that really just started out as a hobby, I've been challenged with some health issues. March of this year, I left the gym after cutting my weight training early because my muscles started seriously cramping in my abs and my legs were weak. I sat in my car staring at the gear shift trying to figure out how to drive the manual transmission Camero that I had been driving for the past two years. After a few concerning and confusing moments it came to me, and I put my car in reverse and attempted to manage shifting through the friction zone without peeling my tires in the parking lot because my best friend was watching and had just made me promise to go to the emergency room. I told her I would, but she knows her friend. I did drive past the ER, but decided it was too crowded and proceeded to go home. Prior to this situation, over the past 7 years or so, I've experience muscle fatigue, vertigo, but never confusion and I never put any of it together. The symptoms were usually so mild and went away after awhile, that I never thought much about them. So now that they are more severe, I decided I should probably take things serious. Some days I have to hold on to George to help me walk, there's no use in trying to use a cane because my arms aren't strong enough to hold up my own weight. I'm fatigue most of the time and the neurologist my doctor sent me to see is a complete moron (but I will save that for another post) so I'm getting a second opinion. I often confuse numbers and letters. It took me 15 minutes once to remember family members names, and I'm finding it difficult to remember new things. I can tell you my best friends phone number from 3rd grade, but I can't tell you what I just said 30 seconds ago, which means George is now winning all the arguments, although lately I think he finds me so pitiful and feeble minded that he just gives in to whatever I ask of him, it's really out of character, but I'm enjoying the change.

My day job is extremely detail oriented, that I use a lot of energy just to function, so I'm finding it difficult to navigate through the typical office politics and drama with finesse like I used to. My noncompliance to silly request have been extremely out of character and highly noticeable, and very entertaining if I'm honest. One coworker makes it a point to cc our supervisor in all of her e-mails to me as a way to prove she is being "nice" since there have been problems in the past with her....and well, pretty much everyone else. I don't take it personal, this is her method when dealing with everyone except the one office friend she still has. She asked me to completely change the annual schedule to accommodate her site for 5 days that would be a slight inconvenience to her. Mind you, I'm responsible for the annual schedule for 13 different sites, which would have disrupted the entire system. I kindly tell her I wouldn't be able to meet her suggestion. She replies, maybe next time. The lack of understanding was beyond me, especially after seeing exactly how crazy the schedule is, so not having the mental ability to elaborate, and that particular day it physically hurt to type, so my simple response was "it's not probable." Mind you, my supervisor sees all of this and hasn't said a word because he understands my job about as much as a flea does, and is not ashamed to say so. I don't have energy to deal with office bullies. I have aggressively started investing more in real estate, and have found another niche I am excited about. Without knowing what's going on in my body, I'm attempting to expedite my retirement.

But trust me, there is soooo much more color to this story, and so many other details. I promise to update you soon, as my cousin Tanisha said when I was telling her about my 2nd neurologist appointment and she said "have you blogged about this, that's comedic gold." 

Learn to Let Go!

I have never been good at holding on to stuff. I recall fights as a child with my cousin that typically ended with us saying sorry, moving on, and returning to play. I'm not sure who initiated the quick apologies, but perhaps being the only one to play with limited us on our ability to remain angry for longer than 5 minutes. This habit has continued into adulthood. George will do something entirely moronic, and yet the longest I'm able to stay mad is a few hours (sometimes I think he takes complete advantage of my inability to hold onto a grudge). As a woman, I'm totally capable of "brining up old stuff" if it will help me make a point, but if I'm honest, the sting of the initial upset the "old stuff" has caused was long assauged with the passing of time.
I often have conversations with a coworker who is retiring next month, about the hurt she sustained from her parents as a child. She will be 61 years old this summer, and yet she still struggles with getting over her childhood. I try not to be judgemental, but I lack understanding on why she can not move on. I've seen the damage unforgiveness does to people, and I refuse to reside in such a disasterous place. Unforgiveness eventually becomes bitterness, and most people who age with bitterness in them, don't do so gracefully. Call me vain, but I don't want to turn gray and wrinkle early because I refused to let things go. My coworker has explained that her parents were not supportive of her, and didn't interact with her much. On one occasion her father choked her and her mother slapped her. She expresses they were not physically abusive, but their emotional neglect caused her extreme trauma. While I realize everyone's pain is real to them, I must admit that most times we speak I'm asking God for the immediate patience to get me through the conversation. What makes me able to forgive and move on with a worst childhood by anyone's standards, and her unable to move on with what other's may seem as petty issues?
Forgiveness all boils down to this...a mental choice. Every negative thought, feeling or situation we choose to hold on to or let go of, is a conscience decision that moves us closer or further away from forgiveness. In order to move on, you must first understand your station in life. What are you entitled to? Who should ensure those entitlements? Whoever is in charge of ensuring entitlements, are they capable of being in charge? Answering these questions will help you move on. If you believe you are entitled to the world (first off you are delusioned, but I'll walk with you just for arguments sake), and you think your parents should have been the one's to give you the world but they failed, and now you are upset at them, let me help you quickly.
1) You were never entitled to the world. Honestly, you were not even entitled to some of the extras they provided you as a kid. If you got no extras (never got one thing for your birthday or Christmas, etc.) then we'll move on to the next question.
2) While you are waiting on those you think should bring you everything you believe you are entitled to, you should be working on obtaining those things yourself. It doesn't matter how old you are, even babies learn to self-soothe at some point. They will stop crying for their mother's to put a pacifier in their mouth, they'll just use their fingers and hum themselves to sleep. If you haven't learned to suck on your own fingers yet to self-soothe, then what are you waiting for. Make things happen, not sit and wait for things to happen. Your happiness is dependent on you, not anyone else.
3) Those that you put in charge of your happiness and the things you feel you are entitled to, may not have even been capable of taking care of their own needs let alone yours. They faced challenges of inadequacy, failure, and spiritual impotence, how could they have figured out how to help you? Some of the people you put in charge may have even been mentally unstable (looking back you can see it now) and yet you are holding them to a position they were never equipped to fill. Perhaps the person you put in charge was yourself, but you didn't have enough skills, education, experience, know-how to figure things out (in this case, you should have depended on someone smarter than yourself).
For those who profess to be Christians, how do you not put any person in such an important role knowing humans are capable of failure and fatigue. Perhaps my friends parents didn't understand the support she needed, her siblings don't have the same complaints she does. Perhaps she was extremely needy, and her parents were just too tired to deal with her specific needs. The bottom line is, at 61 (or any age) you seem a little silly blaming others for your level of happiness. I encourage anyone who suffers from unforgiveness to let it go. You will breathe a whole lot better when you do.

Corn - What? Texas

George sent me to an online trading academy several years ago to learn all of the ins and outs of online stock market investing. While I've got a personal account with a few successful stocks, he's taken our joint account much further than I could have done. Clearly his $40 books prove to be more useful than the $5k tuition we paid for my week long class. Since he's got a handle on the stocks, and my interest lie in real estate and business, I've turned my attention to those avenues.
I've searched every website, book, real estate listing and county tax assessors office for distressed and affordable property. Something we could purchase with a reasonable cash reserve and either flip for a profit, or retain for rental purposes. We're sort of gun shy on rentals that are not in our immediate area, as the house rental property in GA still sits empty after 7 years (and in need of major repairs now). We are also in no rush to get any mortgages (and the GA property has rendered this a non item anyway) as it makes moving a property a bit of a bear.
We decided whatever property we'd get, would have to be a maximum of a 12 hour drive from where we currently live. A recent trip to Mississippi changed our minds and we began looking for vacant land to hold a small-medium farm (20 - 180 acres to start). George's mother has the hook up on goats (only in the country does one even stumble upon such a hook up) so we would start with a few goats and grow from there. I'm not a huge fan of farm animals, but I would like to be more involved in my food selection, thus we have chickens for eggs now, and eventually hope to get 100% of our food from our own land.
I found 40 acres in a remote part of Utah that included mineral rights, but they wanted all of the cash up front, and although it was a great deal, it would have left us with little to no cash reserve to develop the land. I turned to TX instead. It's still considered the wild wild west, and it's on our way to MS, so we could stop in during our annual family road trip. I found a great deal on some property in Cornudas, TX.

If you were to Google the town, the only thing you'd be able to find is May's Cafe. It's a great little eatery where the owner, May (who is also the town's Mayor, as she should be considering she owns the one owner township) can be found whipping up their famous Cornudas Burger in the kitchen. The three of us have increased the towns population of Black folks by 3, but we're up for the adventure. Everyone there is extremely nice, including our "neighbor" Todd (he lives approximately 60 acres east of our property), and the locals have seemed to stumble across the fountain of youth. Our tour guide revealed there was more than a decade that separated her and her husbands age, and she looked like she was barely out of her 30's. It's rumored that Mayor May is around 85 years old, and she looks and moves like she's in her 50's. I'm ready to run there just for the aging benefits alone, but I suppose the slow pace of country living wears on you less than the daily grind of the city.

After walking our property, I realized I underestimated the vastness of 20 acres. We're standing there enjoying the view of the great open fields and mountainous terrain in the distance, when I hear my husband ask (in his thick southern drawl), "any more land available?" So our guide takes some notes, and promise to return with an answer. Two days later we get a call from our agent, and I pump the brakes where George is ready to throw caution to the wind. Needless to say, we settled for the 20, with an option to buy 40 more. As we're leaving our property, George stops to admire the cattle grazing on the land, he moos at one cow to get its attention and it flips around so quickly I thought we'd end up like one of those State Farm commercials with a cow ramming our vehicle. Only problem is we're not insured with State Farm, and I'm not sure if the gecko makes house calls. We find our way back to the main highway and head west into the sunset, back to our California homestead...at least for now.

Somebody Help This Fool!

I've been missing in action, and then when I finally get onto social media it's to check in to see how my friends are doing. I'm ashamed to say that I'm so far out of the loop, one of my dearest friends little girl just turned 1, and I only found out she even existed several months ago.

So what in the world has me running around in circles trying to go straight? LIFE!
Okay, I'll attempt to be a bit more specific, especially since I haven't updated my blog in a moment. Once I started working full time, I put on hold my business, but only marketing it, as it is very much alive and well. Last summer I ran a full camp and used my two weeks vacation from my day job to do it, returning to work immediately after the camp was over (and I am still one tired sister). We implemented new curriculum, and the camp was great. Because I used my vacay time for work I had no additional time to actually take off for an actual vacay. When Christmas rolled around we (okay George) decided he wanted to drive to Mississippi to visit his family, so my second week of what would have been down time, was spent on the road with my relatives (my best friend keeps telling me to stop calling them that, but after 3600 miles, they're lucky that's all I was calling them). No vacay once again. It's now March, and after not having any real down time since December 2013, I'm taking the end of this month off.

I'm trying not to use my upcoming vacation for work, but considering my Christmas decorations are still sitting on my dining room table it's sort of hard not to think of all the tasks I can shove in one week off. I'm looking for a flexible job schedule that will give me some of my time back, because once it's gone it's gone. I feel like the world is passing me by, and I'm spending most of that time on the road either to work or from work. In five days I spend 14 hours on the road, and if I were a better linguist, I'd be fluent in French by now. I have nieces I don't ever have a chance to see (one of which was born last year and I have yet to meet her) and they live in the same county as I do. I have a son who is starting to lose his mind that I need to help him find it before I have to report my own self to CPS (because he forgets at times his parents are crazy), and a husband who needs some reeling in, as his ADD has gotten the better of him and he requires my organization skills to maintain his focus on his businesses.

And if that wasn't enough, we continue to look for more ways to increase our retirement portfolio so that we are not working our entire lives. Our goal is to retire early, and at the rate I'm going, I will need to. Last weekend (as if we needed another road trip) we did a 24 hour turn around trip to Cornudas, TX. 12 hours there and 12 hours back. We left on Friday night after I got off work and we got home Sunday morning (and yup, I was back in the saddle at work on Monday morning). We found that land is really cheap there, and our next project is starting a cattle farm. It was an extraordinary adventure, for which I'm grateful we survived (being stuck once again in a car with my relatives so soon after our MS trip). I plan on starting a whole new blog series on our cattle farm developments, so I'll keep you posted.

Watch for posts about Cornudas, TX coming soon, you have no clue what I've roped my family into. Partly because I'm tired and perhaps approaching an early midlife crisis, and partly because I've always liked getting my hands dirty (I played in the mud as a child and tried to convince my grandmother to eat my mud pies).

In the mean time, I'm still trying to find the time to enjoy life, rather than being tossed around by it. Quelqu'un aider ce fou!

Loc'd and Loaded

Every six weeks for the last two and a half years, I've visited my loctician to re-tighten my sister locs.  Each visit is more than just getting my locs whipped back into shape, but a social experience. This is the place where I talk about wanting to slit George's throat in his sleep, and there's no judgement. The place where I get business advice from seasoned entrepreneurs, because my loctician is a business woman (connected to other business people) as well as a full time educator. Occasionally someone will drop in during my sessions and we have a full out discussion of business, family, or whatever is the hot topic of the evening. So tonight when I sat in that barber chair while Linita worked nimbly and quickly on my locs, I expected no less than a pleasant experience with whomever she had just told to swing by over her brief cell phone conversation. Within minutes Dr. Beverly was seated at the dryer across from me, and shortly after introductions were made we all shared thoughts, life stories, and laughter. While chumming it up with these great women, they helped me come to a realization about my own journey. I was so pumped after sitting with them, that I rushed home to blab about it via this posting. Here are the conclusions I reached this evening:

1) Simply sharing with others pieces of your vision will provide opportunities for others to pour into you or your vision.
2) Gather wisdom from wherever it can be collected. (One of my life's mottos, but reinforced tonight)
3) Keep my regularly scheduled loc re-tightening appointments because those session are loaded with so much more than just a "hair appointment."

Linita regularly schedules client appreciation days (How great is that?! Who else does this?!), where she provides us with samples of her latest/greatest all natural hair care products as well as a fabulous networking opportunity. If other service providers did this, I might still have service with the same cell phone company I was with two years ago. I have met so many great people during these networking opportunities, but I am always skeptical when people hand me a card and tell me to keep in touch. Call me crazy, but I sense a certain level of moral compulsion that propels people to hand their card to a stranger they wouldn't ordinarily want to hang out with socially. When I connect with a person that I would genuinely want to have dinner with, I am willing to accept their card and I immediately respond. My day job is what I'm obligated to do, it pays the bills, but I refuse to cloud my visions and dreams with people or tasks that simply create an unpleasant experience. This meeting tonight was not the typical obligatory business card exchange. Before I could leave Linita's house, I made sure to send Dr. Beverly an e-mail. Linita meets and works with such extraordinary people, and it's because she demands a certain level of professionalism and client stewardship from herself. This type of drive is contagious and rubs off onto the heads of those that dare sit in her barber chair. It's no wonder these two women have formed a professional reticulum.  Their wisdom drips from their mouths and minds into anyone willing to grab a cup and drink their knowledge. I look forward to my re-tightening sessions, because I know they are loaded with a lot more than just a vanity affair. A humble thanks to these two great women of vision for a truly enlightening evening.

To get more on these two great women, visit their websites.

Now ya'll know, in five years of blogging, I have never plugged anyone, but these women are amazing!

Dr. Beverly Crockett
beverlycrockett.com



Linita B.
lovelylocs.net

Chicken Nipples and Mason Jars

My last blog entry was last October, and though it seems like Christmas was just last week, it is actually March 1. It seems befitting that I've been too busy to write, seeing as October was when we decided to get chickens. Those who know me well, immediately thought I had lost my whole and complete mind, but upon second thought, they realized this venture is so me. I like living off a dirt road, where there are only three of us living on my street (but the city girl in me also likes being only 15 minutes away from my nail shop). I've tried gardening, which proved to be a success in getting my seedlings started (I even harvested a few green peas) but the rabbits loved my veggies much more than I did. Over the winter I successfully forced tomatoes (which means exactly what it sounds like, I started tomato seeds indoors in a window) and now I've transplanted them outdoors under plastic until there is no fear of frost. My desire to eat healthy (and to know where my food comes from) as well as to save money, has driven me towards looking at ways to become more self sufficient. I wanted to eliminate the amount of "acceptable" hormones and other harmful products in my daily diet. I recently was diagnosed with a rare genetic condition that is often triggered by hormones. So in attempts to decrease outbreaks and the need for medical treatment, what other natural course to take but to raise your own food (especially when you have the space to do it).
I have been warned against naming my chickens, but in true Andrea "I'll do it myself" fashion, I named them (not all 15 original chicks, although I did have a name list going), well the four that I had left. As I have learned to seek out additional research when it comes to growing vegetables and herbs (and protecting them), George has learned the importance of protecting our flock (as well as getting rid of a seriously demented dog who insisted on ripping through the fence to pull chickens out and kill them). Our trials and errors have taught us some fun and hard lessons on our journey. I started self canning veggies and meats last year (a skill my great-great grandmother taught me that I told no one about), and continue to preserve left overs in this fashion. Spaghetti has proven to be so much more flavorful when all of the seasonings have been slow cooked in a glass jar.

Last week I tried canning potatoes, and so far so good. I still work five days per week at 8 plus hour a day, but George is getting used to having to actually wash dishes and clothes. Just that one adjustment on his part has made me a happy camper.
My free time has been occupied by the start up of baseball pre-season with Dorian (who also starts guitar lessons again after a three month sabbatical), and my obsession with Pinterest. I often yell from the other room asking George to come look at something that I'm adding to the list of cool things I want him to build to help us be more self-sufficient. In typical George fashion, he raises one eye brow, leaves the room without saying a word and silently contemplates why he actually came into the room when he saw me with my Kindle Fire in hand. Even as I sit and write this (on this perfectly wet day), I'm wondering why we didn't buy those rain water barrels to add to the rain gutters of the house that are pictured in the other tab of my web browser. My next venture, is how to make soap entirely from scratch without all the harmful chemicals and I'll be building an automatic chicken waterer and feeder that won't require refilling for a month.

I'll keep you posted on how it's going.

Hot grits and grease

It has been a trying couple of months. I drive an average of 1,300 miles per week for work, Dorian is in playing baseball and only has two days per week off so at the end of the day I am extremely tired. George is on my last nerve because he is on one behind this government shutdown which has halted any activity or payment for reservist. Some weeks I go days without talking to him. He doesn't help out around the house (even though he is home all day most days), he doesn't take Dorian to his practices or games (in fact most times he finds something to tinker with around the house and doesn't show up at all, if he does it's late), and he's sleeping more often. I notice these are all signs of depression, but there is no reasoning with him these days about relaxing. As if I'm not stressed enough, work has been more than challenging as we are switching over to a new delivery method for assessments. This past Wednesday I had to take a day trip to Sacramento to a state conference on the new computer based delivery method for the GED exam. It's a huge hassle with a lot of unknowns because just like any other branch of the government, the state of CA has waited until the last minute to negotiate contracts and figure out how this process will work. To top it all off, they didn't consider one of their major clients, correctional facilities. Certainly it is stressful enough administering exams to jail inmates while I sit in a room locked in with this inmate and no one watching. There have been a few coworkers that have been giving me grief over the new delivery method (as if it's my decision to change the format of a nationwide exam), and due to stress I have begin swelling again. I am in the middle of lab testing to determine if I will be diagnosed with Hereditary Angioadema (HAE). For years I've dealt with swelling of the face, hands, feet abdomen and a few times my esophagus. It can be extremely painful depending on what body part swells up. I have not had any outbreaks in 10 years, and I really was excited to know I was over it, but my abdomen started swelling (which feels like someone is wringing out your stomach and causes nausea, vomiting and other side effects) and I didn't figure it out until my lip swelled and then my foot.
Current events make for enough stress without my husband acting like a jack ass! Reasoning with him doesn't work and since he seems to want to e-mail me, rather than speaking to me, I've decided to stop wasting my breath altogether on talking to him. We've been broke before, so what is the big deal with him now. After spending some time with my friend Robin, we contemplated the issue of me making more money than him is unsettling for him. George and I have spoken about this scenario before, but at the time he was making more than me. He said it wouldn't bother him, who cared it's just money and we are one, but he never intended on having to eat those words. Dorian joked about him being a "house husband" and he didn't find it funny at all. He is so wrapped up in typical male and female roles, that he can't lift a finger to wash clothes or dishes. I'm really at my wits end, and something is going to have to change soon. I now realize why he didn't support me in business (because I was making too much money), why he allows me to run around attempting to get everything done on my own (so that I will break and give something up) and I'm not enjoying this version of him. Everyday in marriage is a lesson, and I pray we learn whatever lesson we're supposed to learn immediately so that we never have to repeat this test again. If I start cooking grits and frying chicken at the same time, start a collection for my bail money.

Jones Family Reunion 2013

There were soooo many wonderful details of this years reunion, that I don't have enough space (or desire) to write and include everything. I've decided to take the most memorable and interesting events and include them. First let me say that every year, George's family has a reunion held in Utica, MS. We have not made it to a single one in the past 7 years, but on the 8th one we made sure not to miss it, as his grandmother (lovingly referred to as Big Mama) is aging and we didn't make our annual Thanksgiving trip in 2012. George was on a training exercise in New Orleans, and being his cheapness has rubbed off on me, I refused to spend $1,300 for Dorian and I to fly to MS. I decided to rent a convertible mustang and drive. Well that plan quickly went out the door and so did being the only driver. I opted to coerce my BFF, Shayla, into going with me to help me drive, in exchange I would cover her hotel room and expenses. Forgetting she vowed to never drive to MS ever again, she agreed to go.
Once there we checked into the Battlefield Inn in Vicksburg. We'd stayed there in 2008 when George and I had our wedding. They had a free all you can eat breakfast buffet and free drinks in their bar along with karaoke nightly that made it a fun place to stay. My cousin Tanisha refers to it as the "Good Grits Inn." We received our room keys and decided to settle Shayla in first. After getting the room door opened, someone sat up in the bed, prompting Shayla to scream and the elderly lady who was awkwardly awaken at 5:something in the morning to apologize. We returned to the front desk for another room. The second room smelled heavily of cat pee and had black mold in the fridge. We thought perhaps the third time was a charm, so we asked the young man working alone to find us a room closer to the one I was given. Aside from the 13" TV which seemed to be missing it's remote, Shayla's room had seemed okay. The place had quickly gone down, and we decided we'd put up with it just for the bountiful breakfast in the morning. It was now 5:45am, and breakfast began at 6:00am, so we decided to stay awake and eat then hit the bed. We were told about the new location for breakfast, and once 6:00am rolled around we stepped outside our rooms to look down into the lobby from our indoor balcony rooms to see they were only serving cold cereal and biscuits that appeared to have some grayish colored meat in between them (which we decided must have been sausage) sitting on a counter. We passed on the breakfast and went to our rooms to get some sleep. After we awoke for real, we showered and discovered there was no hot water. Too tired to complain we got dressed and went to find the closest Cracker Barrel. We decided it was not worth staying at the Battlefield Inn, and went to check into the nearest Holiday Inn Express. We went back to collect our things and check out of the B.I and had a challenge with that. They attempted to charge the credit card twice, the manager wanted to charge us for two nights (even though we had only been there 6 hours) and they refused to compensate us for the problems we had encountered there. We finally were able to leave, confident they had been paid for only one night, and relaxed comfortably at the HIE. George arrived at the Jackson airport the following day.
During our road trip we stopped at Matt's Big Breakfast in Phoenix, AZ. It was alright, but not really note worthy. I'd eat there again simply for the portions they gave, but I'd probably order something that couldn't possibly be messed up. Like pancakes. We did enjoy our time in AZ, although it was 118 while we were driving through, which caused a small computer glitch in the Civic that delayed us about an hour and two mechanics to find that everything was working fine even though we had a small overheating problem. We turned off the AC while in the middle of nowhere, but the cooler temperature (115 degrees) in Tucson was still too hot, so we turned the AC back on.
Thursday was the family reunion. We arrived later than most of the family, but there were enough members there to have had the whole place set up. Instead they all sat around a fan waiting for my sister-in-law (who is highly productive) to set up everything by herself. Shayla and I, although we said we wouldn't help with anything, decided to give her a hand. We were greeted by my mother-in-law with hugs and unintelligible ranting. This is always the case when she hasn't seen us in a long while, but her shirt had seen better days. There were more holes than material, and the contents of her breast pockets did not cover all the flesh we could see. George and his sister yelled at her to go put something else on, which she did after she was good and ready. Once the PA system was set up, she returned with her reunion T-shirt on and began singing "Amen" over the mic. As family members began to yell at George to go get his mother, he simply lowered his head and covered his face and shook his head. I leaned into him understandingly, gently touched his arm and quietly said "you better not ever say anything else about how crazy my mother is!" Everything went off smoothly, well that is if you consider a loud ignorant family member yelling and cursing at her daughter, bad toddlers pulling down the volleyball net, and George and his three aunts holding their own private church service as they played The Williams Bros. over the PA system smooth. The day did not disappoint.
On the ride home, we decided to just rush back so we could have at least one day of total rest before going back to work. At some point we probably had white-line fever, as we relied on singing loudly and playing hangman to keep us awake. We stopped only when necessary, slept overnight in Van Horn, TX (the midpoint between home and Vicksburg) and got home in time to give us an entire day of rest. George stayed in Utica an extra 10 days.
I'll admit, I actually wished we had more time to stay there. Not necessarily to visit, but it had been so long since we had been there in the summer time, that the fields of corn and soybeans were nice to see. I love everything country, and the green down south is not just green it's GUREEN!!!!!! We're planning a trip to Pittsburgh later in the year, but we may just have to go back to MS. George said he didn't get a chance to take us fishing and hunting. Not sure about shooting an animal, but if I get to fire a gun, I'm all for aiming to miss.
I realized when we walked in our house, that there is no place like home. And even though I love the country, I like our little slice of country...that is still only 10 minutes away from my nail shop.

Matt's Big Breakfast

Milk jug stools at Matt's Big Breakfast

Omelette

Egg scramble with ham and spinach and home fries

Pork chop, home fries and eggs (what Guy Fieri actually had)

We had some overheating problems

They couldn't find anything wrong, and it never overheated there or back

What happens when it's 118 and the AC is off

nice view

sunset was too pretty to be captured

The Country Boy breakfast at the Cracker Barrel

All Meat Breakfast at Cracker Barrel

Low Carb Breakfast at Cracker Barrel

Hwy 18, or 27 or 61, they all looked alike

The casino with the good buffet right on the river

The Simpson's clouds

expecting the Children of the Corn to come stepping out the field

okay, this was hwy 18, but I could be wrong

George trying to get through the hula hoop

an impromptu praise break the old Southern Baptist way

Shut up and hold on!!!

I am often offended by the use of "shut up", but it seems at times that it is the best way to express how urgent the the moment requires one's complete and absolute silence. After being with George for going on 9 years, I find myself internally screaming to myself to to do just that, "shut up." This self conversation has sometimes been expressed externally, and now I have to reel it back in, as I find myself telling George and Dorian sometimes (as he really hasn't learned how not to express everything that comes to his mind) to comply with this urgent need for silence. Although the words came from an unknown comedian I was listening to on an AM talk radio station, they were none the wiser. He was expressing that he was into his third marriage and he was finally learning the address the three questions every married person should ask themselves when communicating with their spouse.
#1 Does this (whatever it may be) need to be said?
#2 Does this need to be said now?
#3 Does this need to be said by me?
Sometimes it seems the only thing George asks himself in the morning is, "is my voice working" because everything that happens to fall out of his mouth during the day seem to be off basis, unnecessary, and annoying. I've had to learn to curve my verbal responses in our relationship (someone had to) or this blog would have a different title, something like "Loving Living Single" has a nice ring to it. I have started asking these questions about the things George says to me (you didn't really think I'd start with myself did you, that would require me to admit that I'm wrong, and well...we all know that's not possible. LOL), and I find that 98% of his comments don't get pass the first requirement, and don't need to be said at all. After a week of listening to him, I've found that on the things I truly want to say in response to him, are not necessary, so I edit myself (man has that been hard). If we could all just ask these questions when talking to anyone, we would find that most of the words we speak to others are words that build them up, not tear them down. Sometimes we just need to shut up and wait before speaking, wouldn't a little silence be nice?

Lessons I (should have) learned in kindergarten

I read a poster in one of my high school classes years ago that said everything important I needed to learn in life, I learned it in kindergarten. Things like sharing, friendliness, respect for others, etc. Being that I attended kindergarten in the early 80's, the poster was accurate (although today it may read differently and would have focused on developmentally inappropriate items for 5 year olds such as reading novels and doing long division). But the older we get, and the more we experience heart ache and disappointment, we close ourselves off to sharing, caring and even friendliness. Sometimes it takes an act of God to knock us back into reality of how we are to treat one another.
This is especially true in marriage. It is not natural to care for others the way we are expected to care for our spouse. Don't believe me, when a child has an issue does he cry to get your attention to fix the problem or is he concerned about your day? Some of us have to learn how to treat our husbands/wives. The Joneses are no exception to the rule. George and I come from single parent families, and have had to rely on life lessons, previously failed relationships, and other people's examples of how to become good spouses. Every day is a training process that we willing enter into (okay most days we're willing). Nightly family prayer keeps us in the mind frame that we have to work towards being happy with ourselves and one another. If we are upset for whatever reason, it must end at the end of the night when we join hands and pray as a family (which is a bonus for us both because this means we can only stay mad at each other for a maximum of 12 hours). This has been the single most important thing we have ever done for our marriage. It opened our eyes to becoming more unified, as opposed to worrying about our own selfish needs. Our daily frustrations are no longer projected onto one another, but laid down at the end of the night during prayer. We realize that our relationship sets the foundation of what Dorian will grow up to pursue. If we set a terrible example, it could potentially ruin him for his future wife and family. Family is no easy task, and marriage and children can be extremely difficult, especially when you are still attempting to pursue your own life's visions. But building your relationship on a solid foundation helps to keep you steady when the world starts shaking around you. Perhaps we did learn some valuable lessons in kindergarten, but what good are they if we never apply them to today? Life is challenging enough, and home should be your place of zen, where you are able to plug in and recharge. It may be cliche, but change does start within. Not happy, do something about it.

...until the ride comes to an end.

It's been a moment since I've had the opportunity to sit at my laptop for longer than 30 seconds, without any interruptions from one of the numerous people in my house, that I've not gotten used to in the year they've all been here. I realize not a lot of people can wrap their minds around the concept of working from home. Especially those Baby Boomers whose parents taught them you work from outside your home and depend on the government and your employer for your retirement. Us Generation X-ers are realizing we don't want to commit so much of our lives to an employer and we're guiding our own retirement plans through self-directed IRA's and other means.
As I'm doing my quarterly life inventory, and asking myself did I accomplish what I set out to do, I'm sorely disappointed in how side tracked I've allowed myself to become. As a family we made some decisions that have eaten up more of my attention and time than George's. We decided to homeschool Dorian, and being his lesson coach has been my sole responsibility even though I am actually away from home more often than George. I took on a part time job with the county office of education, and have only had 3 days per week to homeschool Dorian and work on my own business. Not wanting to neglect Dorian's education, I've dedicated most of that time to teaching him new lessons, and the two days per week I'm at work, he completes worksheets that are simply a review of what he's learned the rest of the week. It has somewhat worked out, then add in the household chores that no one else does, cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, etc, and I have very little desire to do anything else except sleep at the end of the day. In order to keep up such a hectic lifestyle, I've committed to eating better, which has really increased my energy level.
At some point, I've stopped pursuing my personal goals and began waiting for an announcer to say "keep all arms and legs in the car until the ride comes to an end", as if there was going to be an opportunity to get off this crazy roller coaster that has become my life. In retrospect, sure I could say I should have said no to some things no matter how mean it made me look, or been clear on what expectations I had for George's involvement so that I wouldn't be left juggling everything by myself, but that didn't happen, so now what?
Dorian's education is something I don't regret, but it's time to get back to work on the rest of my personal goals. So I don't have the manpower to get the vision built for Orangeview, I'm moving forward like I do (which you may absolutely feel free to take this as an invitation to volunteer your services). My mother and her husband have found other living arrangements, which relieves me from having to worry about them falling through the floor in the dilapidated RV they've come to know as home for over a year, as well as relieves some of the financial cost associated with running power to the RV and feeding two stay-at-home-all-day adults. My father has began dating his wife again (from the example and conversations George and I have had with him about marriage), so perhaps one day he will find his way back to his wife (if she'll have him), and eventually it just may go back to being just the three of us. The one thing I'm not going to do, is hold my breath and worry about other people's problems so much that I neglect my very God-given purpose, to help the students and families that really need Orangeview's services.
So if the ride doesn't come to an end soon, I'm throwing up my arms, screaming to the top of my lungs, and riding it out through the loops, turns and twists.  

Greens and garters

I have been so busy since my last post, and for those who follow my blog I deeply apologize. I want to keep you informed, or educated, or whatever it is you get from reading my blog, but lately I have been barely capable of turning on my laptop, let alone posting anything. My stepfather Kevin has come back home permanently and is looking for employment, my Aunt Rose passed and we had to plan her funeral (which was a lot to handle) as well as take care of dissolving her estate to cover some of the final expenses. Camp season is quickly approaching, so after taking two weeks off from my business, I had 18 messages on the phone and countless e-mails to reply to. In all of this, I still had a household to run, work outside the home that I went to every week without fail, as well as a husband that in all the chaos, I have to make sure he doesn't feel neglected. Unlike Dorian; who if he needs a hug, he grabs me and takes one, or steals kisses from me throughout the day; George will quietly wait for me to remember he exists. Men will only do this for so long before they find other things to keep them busy. During this time George worked on our fleet of vehicles (five vehicles, four motorcycles and a large u-haul truck), he worked on our computer network and various other tasks around the house to keep busy. Before he ran out of things to do around the house and began looking for tasks outside the house, I came up for air.
Perhaps you find yourself now competing with all his multitude of outside-the-home-tasks, fear not, you can still get it together. Remember when you first moved in together, he couldn't wait to get home to you? What changed? Lots of things change, but the needs of your man are still as simple as they were then. Stop thinking about all the things he used to do for you, and start thinking all the things you did for him. What we don't realize is while we're sitting around pouting about how he doesn't tango with us anymore (and it takes two to tango), we've been sitting around in a pink fluffy tarry cloth bathrobe (which clearly isn't tango outfit appropriate). Stop waiting for him, and start doing for him. He will come around and want to do those things for you. Men stress about providing for their families, working, the next big deal, the increase in bills with additions to the family, etc. The last thing he wants to stress about is his woman.
There is a study that showed men have the same brain activity when they hear music, and when women speak. How many of us know all the words to the popular songs that come on the radio, but we do know the words to the songs we enjoy. If you don't like the song on the radio what do you do? Change the station. Don't get upset because he didn't hear you, put the words to a song that he will listen to. Once his love cup is overflowing, he will respond. Take care of his needs, and he will rush home from work to take care of yours. Make it difficult for him to want to leave the house in the morning. If he's rushing to get away from you, fix the you part of the relationship, that's all you control anyway.

A sad world

There have been many cases that have sparked outrage in the African American community, but this case is not just about racism (though it sadly is included in this case), this is a human issue. Americans everywhere have been affected by this tragedy. Some have suggested that had he not been wearing a hoodie, he would not have been singled out. However on a cold evening, if not a hoodie, would a beanie and jacket made him less threatening as a young black male? How about a baseball cap? Give me an idea of what head attire would have been suitable for warmth on a young black male that would make him less "gangsta" and I'll be a believer. The sad fact is, that in 2012, I still have to teach my son that no matter what he wears, ignorant people still exist in the world who want to harm him. The look on my sons face when I explained to him there is still this type of evil and hatred in the world was one I'll never forget. I felt I had taken another piece of his innocence and childhood away that I would have much rather stayed intact, but that would be far more dangerous for him.
For years I bought into the idea that if I wore my hair natural, dressed a certain way that would deem me as "too ethnic", I would not be positioned for success. 32 years of relaxers (and I'm only 34) in my hair has left my scalp seriously damaged and my hair brittle, lifeless and falling out. I left my torn jeans and colorful clothes back in my college days. I have faced many health challenges over the years that medical professionals could not explain. Several attempts at leaving behind processed hair, unnatural and processed foods had left me feeling much better, but my understanding of the society we live in would not allow me to completely make the switch. Years ago, my best friend decided to jump ship and be her natural self, another person commented about the state of my friends singleness by stating she was "too ethnic." My best friend has hair down her back (which is all natural), is a home owner, has two master's degree and a great career, and she's accomplished it all by simply being herself. The fact of the matter is I don't have straight hair. I don't wear a size 6, I attend church on Sunday's, I'm Black, I like country music and think Blake Shelton is cute, I married a Black man who I think the world of, I ride motorcycles and drive trucks, I would rather go to a shooting range than pick flowers and I'm okay with who I am. I refuse to believe that if my son wears a hoodie on a cold night that he deserves to be shot and killed for walking in a gated neighborhood (that we may very well live in). I refuse to believe that someone's ignorance is a cause to live our lives in fear.
I remember a warm day on the lawn at San Francisco State University when I was approached by a young Korean man. He wanted to attend UCLA, but in fear of Blacks in Los Angeles, his parents would not allow him to attend. We sat discussing our differences, but mostly our similarities. I wanted to eliminate his fear, and he wanted me to know they existed. We both missed our classes to sit and talk. Unfortunately conversations are not always easy when a gun is shoved in your back while you are pinned face down on the ground wondering what you did wrong. We mock third world countries for their universal healthcare, and their lack of freedom. For their ability to consume less. For their lack of obesity and preventable health problems. But when young men are killed and nothing is done about it, who is really the third world county? When is being who you are a crime? When someone else fears you. Face your fears, and eliminate them.

Letting go and moving on

So you can probably guess from the title of this entry, we didn't really hash out our last issue. So how the heck do you move on instead of harboring ill feelings? Certainly there are times where I would like to go for a long walk in the middle of the night with all my belongings while I leave the gas on the stove on after blowing out the pilot light, but that would be illegal (I'm certain there are other reasons as well not to do this, however they escape me right now.) It has been witnessed by others (both friends and family) that occasionally George gets in a mood where to call him a @#$hole is being nice. He then realizes he's been a prick to me and then spends several weeks attempting to make up for his wrong doing. I'm a big believer in not doing stupid stuff to have to apologize for, however not everyone (including the man I married) abides by the same creed.
Take a good look at your relationship, you'll notice there is a peacekeeper and a fighter. If you haven't already assessed this, it's simple to do. Who does most of the apologizing? Who does most of the sacrificing? Please don't use this as an opportunity to create a list that will push you over the edge and set the house on fire with your spouse still in it. This may be a little painful, may make you angry, all that is acceptable, just don't act on that anger. Certainly if you are the peacekeeper, you have been the glue in your relationship and at times you feel unappreciated and are worn out from your role in the relationship. The fighter has pushed some buttons that have left you bleeding like an open wound. Only you can determine if there is anything left worth saving, if you are married, you owe it to yourself and your spouse to give everything a try.
So now that you've discovered you are the glue in the relationship, or you're the fighter, what are you going to do now. If you realize marriage is not 50/50, it's 100% on both halves. If you strive to only get a 50% on a test, guess what, you've failed. When you love like it's never gonna hurt, you place yourself in a vulnerable position. We approach our relationships with others with resistance. Each act we perform for them is based on how they've treated us, what's been reciprocated to us, and the old 1980-something anthem of most of us "what have you done for me lately." We never think about loving others on credit. Christians are required to for others as unto Christ. This means you care for others because of God, not because they deserve it. Yet recently I have heard more "so called" Christians complain about what they have done for others and how it has not been reciprocated, as to be waiting on people to bless them instead of God (but that's a whole other tangent). The best way to receive love is simply to be a loving person. So what became of our failed date night, nothing. It was never discussed, I never received closure or an explanation. Love doesn't need any of that, it just is. Either you're going to give it or not. Try remaining silent sometimes, and see where that gets you. The fighter has no fight without an opponent. If you're the fighter, stop being selfish and think of your spouse, if your the peacekeeper do your job and maintain peace without becoming the fighter's opponent. Life is too short to spend angry all the time. Your health could be impacted negatively from such stress. Don't let anything cause you to have a heart attack, take control of your own happiness and let go of all the drama.

Broken windmills and stolen suckers

What happens when you are no longer "in love?" If all married folks would keep it real, we fall in and out of love on a daily basis. No one mentions that at some point the butterflies are gone and dead, the conversations are dry and short, and the person you once had on a pedestal has fallen from grace and landed among the common folk. I will keep it real for you then, if no one else has. Being married sucks!!! There, I said it! I love George more than I can imagine, and just when I think I couldn't love him anymore than I do, we wake up another day and I love him more, but dang it I loved being single! We all want what we can't have, but when you are really doing marriage right, it's a lot of work and sacrifice. As a stubborn independent person, I now have to back down at times and let my husband take the lead, even if that means leading us in the wrong direction. I have had to learn to speak to him in a way that he doesn't hear nagging, but kindness and concern. I am a very direct person, if I say the sky is blue, it's not code for how does my new hair cut look or do these jeans make my butt look great, I really mean the sky is blue. I find myself having to learn a different language so that my husband understands me, and I understand him. Some days, we are unwilling to make the necessary sacrifices to put each others needs as a high priority. For example, I had planned a date night, and I talked about it all week. I was soooo excited. I did my hair, I picked the perfect outfit and accessories, I found somewhere for Dorian to go, I was ready. George hates going out. He doesn't like the movies, he hates eating at restaurants, it's like pulling teeth whenever we go somewhere. As a result I usually end up taking my best friend Shayla out instead of him. I gave him a week to get ready. The day arrives, and he cancels over $3 in gas. I couldn't have felt worst if I were a 3 year old with a broken windmill and stolen sucker. What he really was upset over was I had used his juice to make some punch the week before. He asked me to replace the juice and I couldn't find it, so I bought four different types of juices for him, three of which he doesn't drink. In the 7 years we've been together, he's always done the shopping. He only buys what's on sale, and I never noticed he didn't buy these three types of juice. He was too upset and selfish to discuss it with me, and I was too hurt to care why he was acting the way he was, after all, he knew how much date night meant to me. Refusing to be stood up for senior prom again (another story for a later blog entry), I called Shayla, got dressed and drug myself out the house. He made a pitiful attempt to call me, but still upset over his juice, he was in no mindset to discuss anything for real. Now upset myself, I refuse to hear anything other than I'm sorry, and on my way to meet you. Our date never happened, and still no apology, so how did we move on? Did we move on?


.... to be continued.

... talking about marriage.

Asking questions about the sustainability of one's marriage, brings up all sorts of conversations with one's spouse. Okay, I brought up some issues and they festered and oozed out into needing to talk to George. So one Monday we sat in our room confessing our faults to one another (as well as bringing up some faults of each other) and I realized we were both so exhausted we made little time for one another, and were both feeling the results of being neglected. We both admitted to having a bit of trepidation about enlarging our family. He being worried about finances, me being worried about the time and sacrifice that goes into raising an infant (and I'll admit a little vanity about being over 30 and what my body won't do that it did with Dorian when I was in my 20's). Our discussion brought us together and the result, no sex for two weeks. Not because we are angry or anything like that, but because he embarked on a spiritual journey that I support and it requires us to abstain for two weeks. This has been the greatest course in our marriage. We typically keep our distance from one another if we can't "get any", but realizing the importance of making sure each other are getting what we need emotionally, we can't keep our hands off one another. In the mornings, we no longer hop out of bed to get started on business tasks or daily chores. We linger in bed for hours at a time making out like teenagers keeping far enough away so not to be tempted to go any further. We can't afford a vacation right now, and being our plans for travel down south during this holiday season was sidetracked by extra people to care for, and broken down vehicles, we still need the down time. We retreated to one another's arms for blotting out the rest of the world, and it works better than any flight to a destination. During these past two weeks, our silly arguments have resulted in retreating to our bedroom with the door closed attempting to "solve" our dispute and the rest of the people in our home are none the wiser. We understand life can be stressful, and have decided to stop taking it out on one another... for now. If forever is what we're chasing, we can either choose to live waring with one another, or we can lock and load, hop in the trenches together and come out aiming at the world. We are too ruthless at war (generally speaking) to fight one another, so we make better allies than enemies, besides we didn't start off as enemies so why end up there.

Forever. Forever?

Marriage is tough, and with no examples of a successful marriages to learn from in our circle of influence, I often wonder how we got where we currently are, and how do we get to where we are attempting to go...forever. We've only been at this thing for 7 years now, and have so much to learn about being a good spouse that we are not nearly to be considered experts, but what we both have in common is our willingness to hop in the trenches, lock and load, and come out fighting together. Occasionally there is friendly fire, and we aim the weapons at one another, then we have to regroup and remember that we are not one another's enemy.  There are some things we are still learning, like how to speak to one another. We are good friends, so sometimes we cross the line and speak to one another as though we aren't married. Jokingly one day we were talking about my parents. I mentioned the challenges they both have. My father has never been faithful to anyone, and my mother often stretches the truth to fit how she wants others to see her. George then laughs and says jokingly "so your father's a ho and your mother's a liar." Realizing the absurdity of it all I laugh to, then he proceeds to say "so what does that make you...." (yes you've guessed the rest right) "a lying ho." Certainly we realize these types of conversations can be damaging to our relationship, okay let me pause, I realize it, we're still working on his realization. Though I've mentioned it lots of times, over the years he still doesn't see what's wrong if you're only joking. The problem is, I've fought guys for less, and there is no way to maintain a healthy level of respect for my husband, if we cross some lines. At year seven, we're still attempting to draw lines in the sand, and inform the other person it's not okay to cross those lines. I guess some couples get to this hard part and throw in the towel. It really is a training process. He must be trained how to treat me, and so must I. I used to not like the word "trained" when it came to marriage. It sounds like an animal or pet, however when initially employed we go through a training process and I'm willing to deal with that label. Compound this process with financial woes, additions to the family or household, and the daily grind of trying to work, grow businesses etc., it can get difficult. I was never under any elusions that marriage was something that would be easy, but if I had known it was this hard, I would have probably said no thank you. I went in to this wanting to get this part done and over with as soon as possible, but you can't rush it. Most people put their best face forward when entering a new relationship, I never liked this part, always felt it was fake. When a person starts off with their best face, it causes you to respond appropriately, which is typically admirable. However when the true person comes out, and the habits are noticed, and the fighting begins, you respond accordingly. If you drop a baby (please don't rush out and try this, I am a mandated reporter) they place their hands in front of them instinctively to protect themselves. Our natural instincts are to defend ourselves, so it becomes a serious challenge not to retaliate when you feel wronged. He didn't get you what you wanted (or anything) for your birthday, so you stop cooking all his meals. He ignored your feelings of how important it was to come home on time when you planned a special night out just you two, so you felt the need to make him feel what you felt, unimportant and unappreciated, so ignore his calls when you see his number in caller ID on your cell phone. He refuses to pick up after himself, so you left his things all over the place and he could no longer find anything because you were what kept him organized. I could go on and on, but I'm certain you can think of some things on your own. Something I have discovered over these 7 years is that wives are a magnified mirror image of what their husbands are. If he refuses to be the head of the household, she takes on that responsibility and beats him over the head with it. If he refuses to appreciate and value her, she ignores him and disrespects him like he's a nobody. In order for us to get it right, we have to see it modeled. The Christian answer to this problem would be to pray for him to get it right, and allow God to work on him and you, but our human side questions why God even sent him in the first place (if he was sent by God, hopefully that is your case). I know why God sent my husband, and I know I'd be a hot mess without God & him in my life, no telling what example I'd be for my son, but sometimes I really want to have a one on one conversation with God about the details of the person he placed in my life. Without having been a man, I can only deduce it is difficult to love your wife. If it weren't, God would never have instructed them to love us as they love themselves. We weren't instructed to love our husbands, it just comes to us. If loving us is as difficult as obeying them (which God instructed us to do, so he knew it would be hard), then I can understand how they fall short at time. Find someone who's been happily married for over 20 years, and ask them how they managed to both survive. Forever seems like a long time, and has us both wondering where we could travel to contract a slow killing disease that would shorten our sentences... and I mean that with the utmost sense of love. 

Hostile Takeover Pt. II

So if you've been busy at war with attempting to possess your promise land (like I have been), then I'm certain you have a few battle wounds. Let's revisit the hostile takeover the children of Israel were called to perform in order to take possession of the land that had been promised to them. Historically we see the inhabitants they faced were descendants of giants. [Not giants as in Jack & The Bean Stalk, but scientifically proven most people back then were much smaller than they are now, men ranging from 4'7"-5'6". The descendants that inhabited the land of Caanan were on average 7-8 feet tall] Not only did they have to drive them out of the land, but the war was seemingly impossible. Just keep this in mind, when you remove the "I Am" from possible you get "i-mpossible". All things are possible only with Christ, thus we see the tribe of Judah (which again means praise) were successful in claiming their promises. Boxers are even classified by divisions, feather weight, light weight, regular and heavy weight divisions. Thus the fight is a bit more equitable. Those who are taller and heavier have a longer reach, which gives them an advantage over their shorter armed lighter weighing opponent. The longer your reach, the further away you can be when you strike your opponent. When you are smaller and have smaller arms, you must get in the thick of the battle in order to cause damage. Of course we're tired, we've been backed up against the ropes and we're waiting on the referee (God) to ring the bell and declare the fight over and us victorious.
Get to the point....right! You're tired, you're beat up, you're ready to throw in the towel and say to heck with this fight, where I'm at isn't that bad after all. If your promise wasn't of greater value, there would be no reason to fight. Enemies attempt to keep you from what would make you happy and successful. The problem with enemies is even when you are over their tactics, and you have stopped giving them the power to cause you to be distracted, they are still at work attempting to figure out what is the next thing that will get you tripped up so you lose focus on your promise. Of course you're tired, you've been fighting giants, they have longer arms than you and more energy. Whatever giant you are facing in life, whether it be finances, relationships, children, work, ministry, etc., you can only accomplish a hostile takeover with God's help. It wasn't meant for you to fight it alone. Don't fight like it's just you, fight like you have a nation of angels on your side that will follow your command. Fight light you've already won. Fight like you've seen the outcome, and you can already taste the fruit that grows in your promise land. If Alexander the Great was one of the most successful and feared conquerors of all times, but Romans 8:37 says yet in all things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us, then we are more than capable of coming out of this battle victorious. The fight isn't over, so don't quit now. Tighten up those shoe laces and keep running toward your giant, if he doesn't fall right away he just might retreat because he'll think you're crazy and you can't win when you're fighting a crazy person because they just won't give up. :))

George explained....

As I was listening to someone (who hardly knows George from a can of paint) describe him as "arrogant," I began to laugh and realized if you don't know George, he appears to be a piece of work. Having never grown up with a man in the home, and raised by his grandmother and a host of aunts, he has made up what he thinks a strong man should be. Having negative feelings towards his own father (he didn't meet him until he was 10 years old, although his youngest sister is 7 years younger than him, which means she was conceived when George was 3, however he had never seen his father), he decided to grow up and be the man he needed in his life when he was younger. He joined the marines at 18 years old, making up his mind to find a way on his own to pay for college. Without his mothers approval, he signed up and has been in the military every since. When ever George initially meets a man, there is this "dance" (for the lack of a better word) that he does. It's typical of most male dogs (not at all comparing him to a dog, but they do the same thing). There's the sizing up, the comparison to his image of what a man should be doing, what a man should have accomplished, and what a man should possess by a certain age. If he feels the man doesn't fit this image, then he begins dissecting the man to determine what is wrong with him that he has not accomplished all that he should have by now. There is little room for error, unless you have a physical disability (that is visually seen) he doesn't understand not having succeeded in life. While both of us possess the same thought process of not allowing negative situations in your life to cause you to be life's victim, he is a bit more extreme. As a marine, he believes everything can be solved with violence (what marine doesn't). The country is in financial peril, solution = kill all those who refuse to work. World population is an issue, solution = kill all those who keep having kids out of wedlock. Children are going hungry, solution = parents shouldn't have had them, if they can't feed their kids, kill the parents. It sounds absolutely ridiculous, but my husband is absolutely insane. LOL As a natural leader, he certainly doesn't understand a man not being the head of his house and letting the woman handle the finances. While he had taught me plenty about saving, investing, etc., he still largely maintains all savings and retirement plans for the both of us, making certain that our futures are secure. He believes in working hard (in the 7 years we've been together I have never seen him take a day off or call in sick), saving/investing money, living off of only 1/3 of your income, and being his version of what a man is supposed to be. When my dad lived with us, George had a serious time adjusting to another strong man in the house. He didn't learn to speak to my dad until my dad saw past his mask. Now that my biological father lives with us, he's been able to get past that thin hard exterior and get to the gooey soft center of who George really is. Not many people get to that point with him, and those who he doesn't allow in, will always see him as arrogant, obnoxious, annoying, know-it-all, loud mouth who seems to have an opinion about everything. His family has recognized that I am the only person who can get him to turn all of that crap off entirely and listen to me......yeah, I don't see it. LOL But I love my little loud mouth marine. 

Agree to disagree? Pt. II

I spent Saturday and Sunday praying that God would move on the heart of George and he would show some compassion. That and the silent treatment seemed to get him to understand this was not something that was negotiable, and I wasn't bending. Having never been abused as a child, and always having another family member step in and take care of him even when his mother was unable to, George doesn't understand the concept of child abuse or neglect. He can't imagine it happening to children right under his nose, or worst, that he's related to.

While the king of the castle may have the ability to make and set decrees, it is always the queen who is able to turn his head. Without arguing, or causing a scene. Without neglecting my wifely "duties" and leaving my husband high and dry. While continuing to show love, fix his plates, get his clothes ready in the morning, but voicing my concerns, he listened. So now I am on a hunt for our girls.

My aunt (who is now home from observations at a mental institution) is the only key to finding where the girls are. After getting through Dorian's lessons this morning, I have decided to pay my aunt a visit and seek information on the whereabouts of her ex-husband (who is either keeping the girls, or knows where they are). Armed with the assignment of guardianship papers my cousin originally signed and we had notarized, I will make it very clear that if the girls are not returned to me (their legal guardian), I will contact the local authorities and report them missing. This too, requires a hostile takeover, and I refuse to let them go this time.