Long Road Home

It's been a long road since I left my parents' home in 1980, headed for Mizzou without a clue about what was going to be coming my way in the next 30 years.
 

By the end of 1982, I was on my way to Cincinnati, Ohio, as a newlywed without a clue. What I did have was a plan. I was going to earn my Bachelor's degree in Secondary Education, no matter where we were.

I liked Cincinnati, the architecture was beautiful, the town steeped in German tradition, and Skyline Chili will be a permanent favorite of my palate. If I hadn't married during my sophomore year at Mizzou, I wouldn't have had those experiences.He followed a job to Cincinnati, and I followed him. I picked up my education at the University of Cincinnati. We lived close enough for me to walk to school, which was nice. Classes were good, the school was good, and I felt comfortable because there were so many nontraditional students. I may have been close to the traditional students' age, but I was married - I had a whole different world in my life in addition to school.

Still married, I followed my spouse back to Missouri, where he had been hired by the Missouri Department of Conservation as a forester. His job took us to Branson, MO. A lovely place to live, plenty of seasonal work, and I was close enough to getting my degree I could schedule my classes MWF or T-TH so I only had to make the drive two or three times a week.

Bob took a transfer with the Conservation Department, which sent him to Chillicothe, MO before I graduated. So I moved to a cheap, ratty apartment to finish my last semester. I worked nights as the night desk clerk at what used to be a huge Howard Johnson's motel. I left work, stopped at the market to pick up the day's groceries, went home to put them away, studied or rested until class time, attended classes and came home to study some more. I slept from about noon to four p.m., then got up to study and get ready for work. I worked 11 pm to 7 a.m., and my day started all over again.

I finally graduated. I was able to do my student teaching in Chillicothe. Of course, God has his own plans. I was never to teach High School English. My first job after graduating was as a reporter and photographer with the Chillicothe Constitution-Tribune. I worked for that company for five years, and became the first female news editor the publication ever had.

Those were good years. My husband and I divorced, finally figuring out we could never make a family in which both of us could be happy. I was independent. I was good at - and enjoyed - my job as news editor of the Chillicothe Constitution-Tribune, and I met THE ONE. Bruce captured my heart and mind. He heals my soul. He makes me better than I ever thought I could be. With him, I am free to chase my heart's desire. I am never afraid he will make fun of my ideas. I am never afraid that he will do something or say something to make me feel like I am insignificant.

From Chillicothe I came home for a year. I worked three jobs and lived with Mom and Dad. Finally, I landed a job at the St. Joseph News-Press in July of 1993. Bruce lived in St. Joseph. I drove up there on an incredibly stormy night in the summer of 1993, and I wasn't going to go away. After a 6-year courtship that began the moment we met, we married and have been happily trying to make each others' lives better.

I spent the next 15 years working for the St. Joseph News-Press, and the last four years of my career doing my part to keep a small cablevision advertising department running efficiently, assisting the sales staff with anything they needed so they could be out selling, scheduling commercials, comparing commercials that had run with commercials that were scheduled to run, maintaining the books for payments of advertising bills.
 

I worked for the News-Press from 1993 to 2008, when my job as advertorial manager fell victim to the budget cuts of a failing industry.  In 2007, I had begun working at a part time job in the call center at Cablevision, a company also owned by the St. Joseph News-Press. When they eliminated my job at the paper, they put me on full time at Cable, raised my salary there by $3 an hour. Having had my primary source of income pushed out from under me, I ended up taking an annual pay cut of $30,000 per year. That sucked. And it put us in some pretty serious financial straits.

The Long Road Home will continue later this week. This is just a little background for what is to come. It is amazing what God has waiting for us just around the corner. Tragedy can be a miracle in disguise. It can take you on a new path, and it can be a detour that puts you back on the road you should have been on all along.
 

A Pity Party of My Very Own

I was invisible all day. In fact, I think I've been invisible at my office for some time now. I don't whine, I don't make noise, I just go in and do my job. Every day. Day after Day. I'm really good at what I do. But nobody seems to notice. If they have a problem I could help them with, I am invisible. Without exception, they turn to a coworker who has been there longer. I call her the martyr.

Maybe it's because I have such a mundane job. Nobody wants to know how to streamline operations. Nobody cares that I have ideas that might save us money and time. And if I shared my ideas, the first person they would turn to for validation is the martyr. The martyr would then, promptly and energetically, tell them it just can't be done. The conversation would go no further.

Oh, and adding to the drama, our company is on the market. In three or four months, we could have new ownership that eliminates the advertising jobs. I guess that would kind of be the ultimate streamlining move - eliminating the department. Intelligence is not a prerequisite for buying a company. It is only one prerequisite among many for keeping a company profitable.

Hmmm. Money, brains and a vision. I've got two out of three.

Grandpa Woods

Grandpa Woods died Monday, May 17 at 8:50 a.m. He was 90 years old, and he was my sweetheart. He loved Grandma, his kids, his grandkids and great-grandkids, and he loved to fish. He loved being outside, and he had a garden right up until this year.

Grandpa showed people how to love completely and unconditionally. The world is a better place for him having been here.

Have you ever heard a smile in someone's voice? My Grandpa has a voice like that, with a southern accent to match. He was born in January, 1920 in West Point, Mississippi, to Ozella Viola and Lee Bryan Woods.

He's always been one of my best fellas. He had long since passed the top of Grandma's and my Sweetheart Scale, although he has an ornery streak. I think he learned early that if you have a drawl that can melt a girl's heart, she'll forgive you for anything.

One of my favorite stories about Grandpa happened when I was about seven. I was hanging out in the basement workshop with him and my dad while they worked on this outboard motor. I SO wanted to help, and after asking several times, "Can I help now?," Dad finally called me over to the motor. "Okay, hon," he said, "when I tell you, you grab ahold of this spark plug and see if it's firing." I was so excited. "OK!," I said, reaching for the spark plug, only to have Grandpa smack my hand out of the way.

Before I could work up the breath to cry, Grandpa said, "Kirby Lee!" (two words, pronounced as one at the time), "Don't you do that to her!" The "Don't you do that to her" came out at the same time as Dad's "I wasn't going to let her do it!"

I didn't know what was going on, and I had those big old alligator tears welling up. But Grandpa reached down, picked me up, and said "Honey-babe, that would have knocked you plumb flat." You should know, Grandpa was the only man who could - then or now - get away with calling me 'honey-babe' - with the possible exception of my Dad.

Grandpa hit the top of my sweetheart scale when he saved me from being knocked plumb flat, and when he talked to my dad like NOBODY ever talks to my dad.

Earlier that night I had helped Mom make some rolls. I took special care with Grandpa's. A seven-year-old's "special care" involves working the dough so much that any kind of leavening is effectively eradicated. I was so excited to take the rolls downstairs when they were done. I handed Grandpa his roll with such pride, and told him I made it special for him.

Grandpa took a bite of the rock-hard, flat, and slightly burned piece of bread, he said, "I declare, this is one of the finest rolls I have ever eaten.

And with that, he went over the top of the Sweetheart Scale, where he will always be.

Flowers, Flowers

Yesterday my mom came to St. Joe and we planted two flower pots and a planter box for the front of my house. We had so much fun! You should understand, Mom has to do this with me. She can spit out a seed and it will grow and flourish. I can walk by a plant and it will die. The poor little blossoms saw me come out the front door and I swear I heard their tiny screams of fear. Mom says it's all in my head, but I'm not so sure.
We planted some petunias, some pineapple sage, some peppermint and some ginger mint, some basil, and some white and yellow flowers. They look so nice!
I love it when we get together. Thanks MOM!

My Ideal Job

When I grow up I shall be a consultant. What a consultant does is find out what people want to hear, tell them what they want to hear, and get paid for telling them what they want to hear.
Sounds like the ideal position to me.

Waste of PTO

Being sick is a waste of PTO time. I don't feel good. I haven't felt good for a while. My head hurts and I can't make it stop. All I want to do is sleep, and when I'm awake I either want to whine about not feeling good and/or go back to sleep. Bruce has made supper. Not sure what it is but it has noodles, spaghetti sauce, meatballs, sausage balls and velveeta. He also asked me if we had any garlic powder, which we did. Maybe we still do. I don't know. I'm not hungry. Just thirsty. Really thirsty. And sleepy. Maybe I will wake up tomorrow.

My Angels

I wear a silver medallion with the Angel Michael on one side, and the Angel Gabriel on the other. I got this medallion Sunday, October 12, 2008 at the Renaissance Festival in Bonner Springs, KS. I had it struck precisely at 2:47 p.m. My father and I were both born at 2:47 p.m. It is a precious medallion to me.
Gabriel is the patron saint of writers and communicators. That would be me. I call on Archangel Gabriel to help me find the right words. Gabriel's name means, "Strength of God."
On the other side of the medallion is the Archangel Michael. Known as, "He who is Like God," Michael is strength - the protector. For heaven's sake, he's pictured as a powerful archangel wielding a sword and stepping on Satan's head. He is very strong - but also patient and merciful.
Enoch 70:11-16 shows that Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Phanuel always 'escort' Yahweh [God the Father], whenever He leaves His Throne. Since Gabriel and Michael escort God, I'm feeling pretty good about wearing their "likeness" around my neck.

The Voices In My Head

I have a million and one things to do. I need to do laundry. I need to clean and organize my home. I need to vacuum. I have a giant pile of paperwork on the kitchen table. I have a report to finish for my job. And those are all things I would do before I do the one thing I really DON'T want to do but MUST do - deal with finances. It's all so overwhelming. And I'm so tired. I can't seem to find the drive and the energy I used to have. Sometimes I wonder, did I just use it all up? Did it burn brightly for so many years and then just die? Or would a clearer sense of purpose reignite it? I never feel good anymore. I can function, but I don't feel GOOD. I'm so tired - so worn out. My head always hurts. All I want to do is sleep.

I have two voices of conscience. One tells me, "Why fight it? You've been fighting for so long. You made it to where you wanted to be, then circumstance knocked you down. Seems like you'd learn nothing you do really matters, so just check out. Go back to bed. Just do what you have to do to get through the day, then forget it. You'll never get out of this place, so why bother to try?" It is a soft, sweet, seductive voice. A voice giving me the easy way out. A voice telling me it's OK to give in, to give up, to lay down and quit fighting.

Then there is the other voice of conscience. I think it may be Nana. She says, "Suck it up and quit whining. Do you think you're the only person bad things happen to? Do you think it's OK to just give up? Do you think it was easy for your parents? Did they give up? No. They know you can do this. I know you can do this. Bruce knows you can do this - he's depending on you. You will create your own future, and it begins now. The future you create by giving up and going back to bed will not be pretty. This mess is not going to clean itself, so get up. Get off the computer - not another blog or another game of solitaire. Put a load of laundry in the washer and sit down at the kitchen table to do the report for your job. Then you can work on finances. Get at least 10 pages done. Be in bed by midnight, so you can get up and go to work tomorrow. You'll have clean clothes to wear, and you'll be that much closer to your goal. Your future is bright, can't you see it? Look up, ask God for help, and know he is with you. And I'm watching, so don't let me down."
This voice is not nearly as soft, sweet and seductive as the other one, but her message rings with a clearer truth. I know what I have to do.

Sorry folks, Nana has spoken. Gotta go. I'll let you know how it all came out.

kg

Tough times never last. Tough people do. -Robert Schuller

Friday the 13th, 2nd ed.

This entry comes to blogspot.com from a post on a different blog (also mine) that has long since gone by the wayside. I don't post there anymore, but I thought this particular musing was appropriate, since my last post here was a rant on the negative "luck" I experienced in 2008.

February 2009 brings us yet another Friday the 13th, as does March and November. There was only one Friday the 13th in 2008 - it occurred in June. There will be only one Friday the 13th in 2010 and 2011, and it will occur in August and May, respectively.

Depending on the superstition, the day may be considered "lucky" or "unlucky." The Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute in Asheville, North Carolina, estimates 17 to 21 million people in the United States are affected by a fear of this day. In Scandinavia, Friday the 13th was at one point considered the luckiest day of the year. (Thank you for the info, Wikipedia.)

Some arm themselves with protective amulets for this particular day. Perhaps carrying a lucky coin or a four-leafed clover. Personally, I think the 13th is as good as any other day.

My mom was born on the 13th day of November. Sometimes her birthday falls on a Friday. I'd say the simple fact that she was born makes me pretty lucky. Having her born on the 13th just makes it better.

What's so scary about the 13th anyway? Just because some Hollywood moviemakers decided to put together some adrenaline-pumping entertainment and call it "Friday the 13th" (2, 3, 4-ever), doesn't make the day bad. In fact, the date has done so well for that franchise, they plan to release a remake of the original Friday the 12th movie on February 13, 2009.

Here are some historic 13th's - whether or not the day happened to be Friday, well, my research didn't go that far...:

Januray 13, 1930: The comic strip "Mickey Mouse" made its debut in American newspapers.

February 13, 1966: The Rolling Stones appear for the first time on the Ed Sullivan Show.

March 13, 1881: Alexander II, emperor of Russia, is assassinated by a bomb thrown into his carriage by a member of a revolutionary group, the Narodnaya Volya (People's Will). (Ok, so this wasn't so good for Alexander II, but then again, he probably wasn't carrying his four-leafed clover that day, either.)

April 13, 1964: Sidney Poitier becomes the first African American actor to win an Academy Award, for his performance in Lilies of the Field.

May 13, 1918: The first U.S. airmail stamps, with a picture of an airplane and costing 24 cents, are introduced.

June 13, 1983: U.S. space probe Pioneer 10 passes Neptune, becoming the first human-made object to leave the solar system.

July 13, 1865: Edward Whymper, an English artist and pioneering mountaineer, becomes the first person to climb the Matterhorn, in the Alps. On the descent, four of his companions fall to their deaths. (Ok, It wasn't so easy finding good things that happened the 13th of July...)

August 13, 1942: Bambi, Walt Disney's fifth animated feature, opens at New York's Radio City Music Hall.

September 13, 1916, Roald Dahl was born. He is the author of children's classics Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and James and the Giant Peach.

October 13, 1792: In Washington, D.C., the cornerstone of the White House is laid.

November 13: My mom was born, and (quite a few years later) my second cousin Abigail was born.

December 13, 1642: Dutch navigator Abel Tasman discovers New Zealand. (Was it uninhabited at the time? Seems like the folks who lived there might have had an idea it existed. I'm thinking they didn't call it New Zealand, though.)

Thought for the day:
Living on Earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around the sun.

Goodbye, 2008! (Don't let the door hit you)

I wave goodbye to 2008, and embrace 2009 with hope and high expectations. Touching briefly on the low points, my job of 14 years at the newspaper was eliminated in October, 2007. Now I work for our local cable company as a clerk. I still get to write advertising copy and do some of the other things I really enjoy, but essentially I was knocked down to the bottom again and have to work my way back up. I'm grateful to have a job, but I'm still a little bitter. Bruce was laid off in August. That hasn't been horrible so far, because he has been doing contract work for them. Unfortunately, the plant is closing December 24, and nobody knows how long it will stay closed. That's a little scary, but nothing as scary as what happened in October. Bruce hadn't been feeling well, and was off work. He called me because the carbon monoxide alarm was going off. He checked the battery (which was fine), and noticed he could smell natural gas. I came home from work, and we called the gas company. The gas company man came out, and his electronic gas sniffer registered levels of carbon monoxide and natural gas that were too high to be normal. He couldn't find a problem, and asked me to open the basement door. (Our basement door is like a trap door in the floor.) I did, and saw there was 8-10" of water standing on the basement floor. "Please don't tell my husband," I said to the man. Unfortunately, a pipe had burst over our water heater, filled up the basement with water and ruined the water heater. This issue, of course, required informing the husband. We had to replace the water heater. Yeah. A couple weeks later, it got chilly outside and we turned on the heat. Rather, we turned on the furnace. There was no heat. The water had gotten into the furnace, so we had to replace it, too. While all this was going on, Bruce still wasn't feeling well, and hadn't been feeling well for about six weeks. He went to the doctor several times, but the morning of October 19 he couldn't breathe. We went to the emergency room, and a chest x-ray showed a nasty case of pneumonia and a CT scan showed he had blood clots in his lungs. He couldn't breathe because he was suffering a pulmonary embolism. I was very fortunate to be able to bring him home October 29. He's much better now, and I am grateful every day to have him with me.
Bruce had been home for a couple days, and was feeling better. He had just done the dishes (Yes he does that horrible chore for me. Envy me. He's awesome.) We were both standing in the kitchen and heard a horrible noise. A joint in the hot water pipe under the sink had blown out. We opened the cabinet door under the sink and water sprayed everywhere. Naturally, it was just below the shutoff for the sink, so we had to shut the water off for the whole house for a day, until our angels of mercy, Bruce's sister Diana and her husband S.W. came to St. Joseph from Warrensburg to rescue us. S.W. is a plumber and fixed the problem (he's awesome, too).
As bad as the last part of 2008 has been, we made it through with the help of our amazing families. I'm pretty sure we couldn't have faced all of that without divine intervention, plus Mom and Dad, Judy, Diana and S.W., and many others.
There. I've said it. The past year has been really hard. I appreciate the lessons learned, but it can't be over soon enough for me.
Goodbye, 2008! Hello, bright 2009!

A woman of leisure

For three glorious days I have been a woman of leisure. I took Friday off, because the weather here in the midwest has been as close to perfect as it gets in January. I've been making beads. Mostly bad beads, but melting glass with a blowtorch brings its own satisfaction. For now, good beads are just the icing. Anyway, here's a picture of the bad beads, so as I get better, the whole www will know. Husband Bruce has been sick since Friday. Bad cold. I'm sure he's quite contagious, so NO KISSING. This is a bad thing, because kissing your husband can be really nice. Still, it has been a good weekend. FYI, any and all donations will be happily and gratefully accepted to buy supplies in order to feed my beading habit.

My NEW Wish Book

Wow. Remember the Sears Wishbook that used to come out before Christmas. The back of the Wishbook was FILLED with toys and other wonderful things children could wish for at Christmas time. I LOVED the Wishbook. I would go through the toy pages and pick ONE THING on every page that I wanted. This was an exercise in creative decisionmaking, since sometimes I wanted two or three things on a given page. Don't get me wrong, we didn't actually GET everything we picked from the Wishbook pages, it was just fun to look.

Yesterday I got my very first Firemountain Gems catalog. Oh - My - God. It is the New Wishbook in my life. Such beautiful beads and findings. If you're a beader and don't have one, go to the website and order one. You won't be sorry.

Well, it's Friday night, and I'll share a little about the week. Not the creepy stuff, just the good stuff. A friend brought me six zucchinis. I have eaten three of them. Heavenly! I've been picking tomatoes - about 12 cherries and 2 Romas a day, and I even got one ripe Celebrity. Delicious. Maybe by Sunday I'll have more ripe ones. And it looks like my own zucchini plant is battling the bugs and may produce 3 or 4 more zucchinis in the next week or so. I think I need to go get some Sevin and spray it (It is spray, right? This is my first year with more than one vegetable in the ground, and I've never used a pesticide before)

Through a little creative financing, I was able to pay the car insurance, a credit card bill, and two loan payments, and have just enough left over for groceries. I'm pretty happy about that. Bruce had lunch at a Chinese restaurant today. His fortune cookie said "Your financial troubles will soon be over." I hope that doesn't mean he'll be collecting on my life insurance!

This evening I brewed a pot of Green Tea. It made about half a gallon. I'm drinking some now, picturing those antioxidants attacking the vicious and malicious free radicals. Gosh, I must be getting healthier by the second. I've got coffee ready to brew in the morning, and some refrigerator crescent rolls that I might make for breakfast if I feel like it. I might try adding a thin layer of grape jelly, or honey, or sprinkling some cinnamon and sugar on them before I roll them up to bake them.(You don't suppose that's going to counteract the hard work of those Green Tea antioxidants, do you?) After breakfast I'll go to Michael's Craft Store - I actually have two orders for bracelets that I need to finish by Sunday, and I need to invest in some alphabet beads and some burgundy glass beads.
After that, Bruce will probably take me to lunch. That's always nice. I love weekends with my husband.

Then I think I'll into the office (at MY leisure) and work on some projects that need to be done by Monday. Then I'll be able to come home and do real-life work. The plan is to get ALL of the laundry done and some more jewelry for the Expo made this weekend. If it all works, I'll post more pictures.

That's all for this evening. Keep leaving comments, I really do appreciate them and love to read them.

Some Tasty Jewelry Pix IV

These are the sterling-wrapped crystal earrings I decided to keep for myself, even though my neck isn't long enough to wear them right. I just put them in the upper holes and wear a pair of single dangling crystals in the lower holes. They make such a pretty, faint, musical sound when the crystals touch each other.

Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh Bracelets

I really like these little bracelets. The brown beads are myrrh - a hard resin often used for incense. The tiny gold beads are gold filled (not plated), and I have worn mine every day for a month and the gold has not flaked or worn off. The dark colored beads are garnets, but I hope to buy some frankincense (also a resin, although I've never seen it sold as a bead). If it's sturdy enough, I plan to drill the frankincense resin and string it in place of the garnet for bracelets made of gold, frankincense and myrrh. I think they'd make great stocking stuffers for Christmas. If the frankincense doesn't work out, I'll stick with garnet or other small semiprecious stone. Scroll down for other pictures of my recent work. As always, whether you love it, hate it, or fall somewhere in the middle, your comments are invited and much appreciated.

Some Tasty Jewelry Pix III

This one has a great mix of colors, created with glass beads and sterling silver beads. The heart-shaped beads on the earrings and the bottom necklace drop are amethyst-colored glass with foil inside and a tiny floral design. The teal and purple colors look great together, especially mixed with the shiny sterling. The long beads you see are AB glass tubes - really nice luster. It has a sterling lobster claw clasp for security. The matching earrings hang 1.5 inches from the bottom of the french hook earwire.

Some Tasty Jewelry Pix II

I really like this one. It's made of green dichroic glass on leatherette cord, sterling silver "X" beads and sterling bali beads. The necklace is 24" long, and the bottom drop is 1.5" long. The earrings are on sterling french wires, and hang 1.5" below the earring wire.

Some Tasty Jewelry Pix I

Here are some recent pieces I've made for the Women's Expo this September. Let me know what you think. This necklace is made of dichroic glass on leatherette cord (not genuine leather, more like heavy, thick, cottonish cord). It has a sterling silver S clasp. The matching earrings hang 2 inches from the bottom of the french hook.

Sunday Night Whining Part II

Ok, I whined a little, felt a little better, decided to try to scan some of my new jewelry designs to post. They really are nice. What do you know - I couldn't make the scanner work. What a perfectly crappy end to a perfectly wasted day. Let's try to end this one on a positive note, too. Last night I made some gorgeous earrings from small sterling wire-wrapped quartz crystal points and sterling chains. They really are pretty. I decided not to sell them, but to keep them for myself. When you wear them and the crystals touch each other, they make the faintest wind-chime sound - very pretty, very musical. Of course, they are made for someone who actually has a neck, but I'm keeping them anyway. If I can get the scanner to work later, I'll post a picture of them, too. Please visit again soon, next time I post I hope to spread more cheer than gloom.

A Little Sunday Night Whining

Have I mentioned lately how much I hate having a beard? How much I hate sharing a profile with Humpty Dumpty? How little the phrase, "Pretty is as pretty does" means to so many people who really are physically beautiful?

I don't even feel pretty anymore. It doesn't matter how healthy I eat, or even if I exercise. Cushings Disease is hideous. They tried to fix me and it didn't work. The last MRI showed an empty sella, meaning the radiologist couldn't even see a pituitary gland where it should be. This tells my endocrinologist that I should be adrenal insufficient, but I'm not. I still produce at least twice the normal amount of cortisol, and they can't seem to stop it. I can't seem to convince them that I must have a spare pituitary somewhere under all this flab (did I mention I share a profile with Humpty Dumpty?) and they need to suck the fat out to find it.

Of course, the fact that my doctors can't seem to do anything to make me better means nothing to the hospital billing department. I just get to keep paying them as the doctors continue to "practice." What a crock. I've said before, in my "Rant to the Medical Community," it's a racket. They should have told me before my resources were all gone that I should go somewhere that deals with this disease more often than they do, which is pretty much never here in the heart of the midwest.

That's all about this for now. I don't feel very good. Although...

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE

Our tomatoes have been ripening nicely. We've picked several cherry tomatoes, about five Romas, and the Celebrities should start getting red soon. They will be particularly nice with cottage cheese or tuna salad. And today, I picked the first zucchini off the vine. It was delicious. And it didn't cost $1.69 a pound.

Need Advice from Women who Love Jewelry

Ok, I'm working on jewelry for the September show. I've got some great dichroic glass pieces, I'm diligently working on more breast cancer awareness bracelets. I have some with organza ribbons - very cute in my opinion - some without the organza, and some strung on memory wire. If you've never worn a memory wire bracelet, you should try it. Memory wire is kind of like a slinky, only smaller diameter. It never loses its shape, and you can use 1 or 2 loops, or 6-7 loops, depending on how bold you like your jewelry.
WHAT I NEED is some advice on the types and lengths of necklaces girls/women prefer these days. Short, choker style (16 inches?) longer (18-24 inches?) or adjustable (16-20 inches?) And what colors are "hot" right now? Black and white always seems to be popular. Right now, for summer, I'm seeing a lot of orange/hot pink mixes(uh, ick). This is my dilemma - I know what I like, but I can be a bit freakish and wear things that other people might, uh, avoid. So what's in? Big and bold? Small and dainty? Jewel tones or pastels? Help me out here, ladies.

Any comments would be GREATLY appreciated.

Breast Cancer Awareness Bracelets

I'm working on some Breast Cancer Awareness jewelry for a Women's Expo in September. I have a few of the bracelets done. I think these with the organza bows are pretty, but I'm making several styles. They're actually more pink than the picture shows. The awareness ribbon charm is sterling with pink crystals. I decided to sew it directly to the organza ribbon so a) the ribbon wouldn't come untied and, b) it would stay securely on the bracelet. I thought I could sell them at the Expo for $12 each, and donate 25 percent of each sale to our local YWCA for their breast cancer program. I'd appreciate any comments.

It is a Very Good Day

Today has been a remarkably good day. I feel pretty good - not too much pain - I feel like I have a little energy and a little creativity. I'm ready to do some work that I brought home from the office, and I'm ready to make a little jewelry. I'd kind of like to make a nice dinner, but may end up with frozen pizza, just because I want to do some other things. And it's only 6:00 in the evening!
Bruce is taking a shower, and then he'll probably go sit on the porch for awhile. Mom and dad sent me a box of stuff today. Mom found some Nads hair remover and sent it. Cushing's disease has given me a beard, so I wax my face every 10 days or so. Sorry, I don't want to be vain, but having a beard really disturbs me. I feel much better about myself when the hair is gone.
And we're getting ready for the Expo in September. Mom and I are going to have a booth with our jewelry. Mom makes beautiful Angels. And I found some great little sterling silver breast cancer awareness charms. I'm going to put them on some stretchy beaded bracelets, and give half of the profits to the local YWCA. I'm going to ask them to use the money in the Encore program, but the Y helps women in a lot of ways, so they can use it for whatever they want. Sometime I'll post a picture of the bracelets. If anybody reads this and wants to comment, please do.
Off to do other fun things,
KG

It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want To

I guess since nobody's reading my blog (first whine), I'll just write anything I want without fear of retribution.

I am so tired of the fight. Just so tired of grinding away every day. The grinding works both ways you know - I grind away against the day, and the day grinds away against me.

I'm tired of budgeting, stretching, shrinking, trying to manage too many bills with not enough money.

I'm tired of trying to figure out how to make it all work out.

I'm just tired.

Long Time, No Blog

Have you ever noticed that fly-hatching thing in the springtime? I have a couple of flies in my house driving me NUTS. ZZZtt. ZZZZzzzzttt. ZZttt. And they're big, fat flies. I've got to invest in a fly swatter.
Last week was an exquisite kind of hell. I'm on a team that does special sections for a newspaper. Our second-largest section of the year went to print yesterday. It's an all-local piece focused on information for new residents and visitors to the community. I love the piece, and I like my work. Weeks like last week - way too much work with way too little sleep - used to be the reason I stayed in journalism. There's no rush quite like seeing something you've put your heart into come off the press looking good. It's still a good feeling, but I'm getting too old and tired for the projects that make you live at the office (yes, we even have showers in the building) and nap sometime between 4:30 a.m. and 6 a.m. in the ladies lounge. I went to bed last night sometime around 8 p.m. and slept for 13 hours. I felt much better today.
So it's been several days since I've posted. Not that it matters, I looked at the site meter and the last time anybody looked at this blog was June 1, and they were just clicking through.
An interesting thing happened today. We got a note from the post office saying we have a certified letter from the City at the post office that we must sign for. Since it's Saturday, we can't get our letter until Monday morning. We're trying to figure out what it could possibly be. We don't think we've broken any ordinances, although there are a few blades of grass in the sidewalk. Our taxes are up to date. But it must be something important for the city to spend my tax dollars sending out certified mail.
Be back later, got to go be creative now.

A Rant for the Medical Community

I have come to the conclusion that I am the only one who reads this blog. That's OK. If nobody is reading, I can rant, rave, scream to the page, and I will be the only one who knows I sound like a lunatic. And I suppose lunacy is best kept private. Other people might find it disturbing.
BE WARNED.
IF YOU'RE A MEMBER OF THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY, THE FOLLOWING WILL MOST CERTAINLY OFFEND YOU. DEAL WITH IT.
Paid bills today. Right now I owe the hospital about $3,000 for a brain surgery (technically, pituitary surgery), radiation and a slew of chemicals that didn't work. I think I shall call the billing department Tuesday and ask them to put me on the life insurance plan. By that I mean, since they didn't come close to curing me, they can leave me alone until I die a slow and progressively painful death and my husband will pay them with the life insurance he collects.
Does it make sense to anyone out there that we have to pay for services that didn't work? If I take my car to a mechanic, and pay him for a service that falls apart, he has to take the car back and do it right because I've already paid him for the service. If a lawn service tears up your yard, do you pay them? So why are hospitals and doctors any different? OH, NOW I remember, they call it PRACTICING (she said, slapping her surgically invaded forehead). I guess it really doesn't matter whether or not they get it right. They get paid ANYWAY!
My hospital even has the nerve to call itself "non-profit." Right. They just spent at least six months redesigning and resurfacing and re-everythinging a damn parking lot. They couldn't even get THAT right the first time.
(Actually, I don't think there was anything wrong with the parking lot, but "non-profits" can't show a profit, so they have to spend it on something, right?)
Now, they're having such fun collecting from me and my insurance company, they want to send me to ANOTHER hospital that they think can help me. They should have told me in the beginning, "We don't deal with this disease often enough to be effective. We think you should go somewhere that is better equipped to handle this case." But no. They sucked up all the resources I have, and NOW they want me to go to either Mayo or Vanderbilt University. Hell, there's room enough for everybody on this gravy train, right?
Wrong. I can't afford the bills I have now, and I don't intend to pile more onto my debt load to pay more medical professionals who may or may not be able to find their asses with both hands. While insurance may cover the medical stuff (as long as the insurance company considers it "reasonable and customary,") it will not cover the cost of getting there, or the cost of a motel room for my husband for GOD knows how long while a bunch of doctors and med students stand around scratching their heads. Oh, and when the insurance company pays the amount that it does consider reasonable and customary, I'M responsible for any amount over that, but you don't know what's reasonable and customary until you get your EOB from the insurance company and the bill from the hospital/doctor/lab/insert your own health service provider here. Now, if my insurance company pays what's reasonable and customary, why am I charged for what's unreasonable and not customary?
What a racket.

I think next time I see a doctor, I'll just sit on the table, tell them to stick a toothpick in my belly button, and if it comes out clean, I'm done.