Six legs too many
It’s spider season again. Time to break out my double-wammy industrial-strength pow-wow… ummmmm, concoction.
Spiders??? Oh Bon, surely you can’t be talking about now… it’s June!!!… simply can’t be. In any case, I’m sure the problem is minutely miniscule…
Ahem. Never mind the Fall season when you see all the Wolf ‘writing’ spiders. Ole Bon’s spiders say the time is now. Every morning I go down two sets of stairs looking like a zombie – left arm filled with my workbag, purse, lunch and sometimes trash, and right arm waving back and forth in front of me like a freaking moron. If I try to throw in a glance around myself to make sure no one’s watching, I lose balance and almost fall down the steps – it must be hilarious to watch. As recently as this morning, I was clotheslined by yet another invisible web on the second floor. I promptly **dropped** everything and completed two full 360’s all while appearing to have a seizure, all done in order to entertain the average viewer. You are welcome.
This takes me back to when I first moved in my current residence. It was May of ’08, and the first thing I noticed was a spider infestation. The couple that resided here for ten years prior to me were elderly, and it didn’t seem to bother them. Enter Bon. Believe me when I say it did bother me. Apparently my predecessors either a) didn’t care about the spiders or b) literally couldn’t see them. I’m shooting for the latter. I mean, these people were in their 90’s…
I was absolutely horrified. Here I was, finally, in my own little condo – perfect in every way except for a spider infestation. The balcony seemed to be the worst, so that’s where I picked to start. I made a trip to the local hardware store and bought a gallon-sized industrial strength pesticide which even came equipped with a strong pump-stream system. Just pull back on the external trigger nozzle until completely loaded, and that baby’ll spray for a full 20 seconds at warp speed. Once I positioned myself on the stepladder and started spraying through the rafters, I completed the first two walls rather quickly. All the sudden the damn things started coming out by the dozens, spinning their long silk and swinging towards me. I immediately felt like a character out of a Stephen King book, already visualizing myself taking that accidental fall from a ladder over a third story ledge. I’m not talking small spiders – the littlest ones were about the size of my thumbprint, and that doesn’t include legs. These ‘things’ had been allowed to infest the place for so long that they had ‘morphed’ into some sort of amazon gargantuan thing not from this planet. A mega-spider, if you will. I panicked screamed. Ducked left, ducked right, and finally ducked inside – all while cursing myself for spraying more than one wall at a time, in turn pretty much barricading myself out of my home. Finally, after a couple of days of exterminating (one wall at a time from here on out, thank you) the porch was wiped clean of spiders.
Ahhhh… I am victorious!! And so was born the quest for a huge superhero applique for the front of my t-shirt. SB, for SuperBon. Or maybe even SpiderBon.
What I neglected to address in my extermination efforts was the fact that I may well have pushed some most of them indoors. Maybe they existed beforehand, I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that within those couple of days, more and more spiders began making their glorious appearing indoors – and that didn’t work for me. One night, I pulled back the comforter and sheets to get in bed – unveiling two very large black spiders smack-dab* in the middle of my bed. Realizing their newfound exposure, one shoots off to the right and the other to the left (again, like something fresh out of a nightmare). To this very day I maintain those things were mating in my bed. I managed to kill one, but never found the other. As for me, I remained in a light-filled room sitting upright in the fetal position for the rest of the night. Tucking my knees under my chin, I balled my eyes out. And come morning, I was completely unrecognizable by the people closest to me – although by this point it was questionable as to whether I had actually been bit by spiders and might be having a bad allergic reaction that swelled my entire face up.
I can laugh about all of this now. It wasn’t at all long after the ‘bed incident’ that I was completely spider-free… thanks once again to the heroic efforts of SuperBon/SpiderBon.
(But I wouldn’t want to do it all again.)
*Southern Slang definition of the day: Smack-dab: squarely, and directly.
Visit from beyond
I was ushered in through the foyer, past the living room and down the hallway. The doorknob to the right was turned, and the door opened for me to enter the room.
Their room.
The room itself was bigger than I remember, and had a radiant, almost heavenly look about it. I immediately noticed that it was cleaner, whiter, and less congested. It was almost pristine – with much extra room to move around. Just as quickly as the door closed behind me, they appeared.
The dogs.
My dogs. The dogs I had to leave behind through a marriage separation, now well over two years ago. And they were smiling. C’mon now, no bashing… any dog-lover out there knows what I’m talking about. They DO smile.
I don’t remember actually getting down on the floor, but in the next moment that’s exactly where I was, and where I remained. Chance and Rebel were all over me, and I was all over them. They were both clean as a whistle and smelled so good. There also was no gray in them whatsoever. The dogs weren’t pups, but they certainly weren’t old men, either! Along the empty sides and corners of the room, there were lots of clean blankets and sheets, all neatly folded – there must have been 8-10 of them scattered throughout the room. As time went on I kept grabbing them, unfolding each one and spreading them out for us, all while continuing to love on them. I remember thinking, ‘boy is someone gonna be mad at me for unfolding and messing up all these linens…’, but the dogs were loving it, and loving me. All three of us were so happy and comfortable, in that room.
The tears continue to fall as I write this. This particular visit occurred in a dream I had last night, on Tuesday night.
I believe it all started when I asked my daughter to take a picture so I could see them. I was at work Monday when I received them, and it immediately made me cry. My girlfriends at work saw this and were very sweet and caring – they are good friends and fellow animal-lovers to boot, so they understood without even saying anything. Just to see how gray the little and big guy’s faces had both gotten in two years was shocking – in particular Rebel’s, the boxer.
I’ve tried to force them out of my mind for a long time now because it’s just been too painful to think about. That still remains the case. I guess somehow, unfortunately, love really is associated with pain. Whatever the case is, I do still miss them greatly.
It was a good visit. No, it was better than good. The visit was awesome, even perfect. I hope they visit me again soon. Or should I say… allow me to visit them.
One of the pictures my daughter sent me
My way
It’s beautiful out today – true summertime in every since of the word. Honestly it seems like the first day of summer was over a month ago, never mind the fact it’s still a week away. Back to the days of leaving your windows cracked two inches and placing that anti-seat/steeringwheel-burner-device-thingy in your windshield.
I get a treat today, going to ‘get my hair did’ after work. I consider it a treat because I haven’t been for a haircut since January, and haven’t had it colored since last summer. I ought to just shock the hell out of everybody and go short and red. Being that my stylist knows me personally, I don’t think she’d do it even if I asked her.
Cooked a big old pot of s’ghetti last night. I really enjoy cooking it ‘my way’ (great, now I’ll have Sinatra in my head all day). For 20+ years, all I was ‘allowed’ to have in it was the meat and sauce, and that sauce better not have any visible onions in it or said meal would be ruined. Oh, I could add some garlic salt, forgot about that. Even too many tomatoes in the sauce would constitute a 10-minute period of ‘picking them out’, one by one, until a nice little pile was accumulated beside the now lukewarm/cool plate of spaghetti.
I now put fresh minced garlic in it, and cut up a vidalia onion and green pepper. Add a can of mushrooms to the sauce, throw in a large can of diced & spiced tomatoes, and my little array of spices don’t forget the cayenne pepper. Let that puppy sit in the fridge for a day and have it for dinner that next night… simply delectable. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. 🙂
Birdland…
Yet another family of birds have ‘flown the coop’. It was the sweetest thing. We got up this morning and I notice K veering off to the right to open the front door. All the sudden I hear “I knew it, I knew it!! They’re gone.” Sure enough, his last family of birds nested under his porch had finally all spread their wings and left. We were wondering how much bigger the babies could get… it was comical to still refer to them as ‘babies’. They had gotten so big that only about two of the four could fit in the nest at one time. They sat up there looking like big lugs – baby birds on steriods. K could barely get out the front door anymore for anything since the mama and daddy birds were in instant protect mode of their ready-to-fly-at-any-given-moment babies.
We’ve stood here and watched bird after bird go for a drink in the birdbath. He decided it needed some clean water – the birds are now having a bird field day. 🙂
Nature is so cool… yet often sad, and always unforgiving. We were talking about it last night and he told me a story of how he recently witnessed a hawk swoop down and score a dove, carrying it off in it’s huge beak. Many birds of different species tried to come to it’s rescue, in vain. The Hawk only needs one split second to complete it’s task. In this case and most others, it got it’s prey. I was told there are still a bunch of feathers were the ‘incident’ happened.
Here’s a link I’d like to share on yet another woe of Nature. This is a bit graphic at the end, and throughout the 4 minutes can really get your heart pumping, but I promise you won’t be sorry you watched it. 🙂
Peace.
Beam me to the Beach?
Saturday morning is finally here. What to do, what to do. There’s a whole list of things, actually.
Yesterday after work I splurged on myself and indulged in a pedicure. I’ve been doing them myself for many months now, and it felt so nice to be pampered that way, especially on a Friday. Last night we went to a local diner/club that had a band playing. Had a couple beers, ate some fried pickles and quesadillas, and listened to some good music. Definitely a nice ending to the work week!
Got up on a low-key morning (couldn’t sleep late, up at 0730 drat) and had the celebratory weekend bagel. I’m gonna meet up with a friend after lunch and go in on a a Sam’s membership with her. Hoping I’ll get a lot of use outta that – there’s a location that’s very convenient in my guy’s town that I think we’ll use a lot. Maybe they’ll even be cheaper on some pool supplies, who knows.
It’s amazing that it seems like everyone on Facebook is at or going to the beach. I’ve got such beach fever that I’m literally on fire. Good thing I have my favorite beach cams for an (albeit temporary) fix.
Back to the weekend, peace!!
Friday yet?
No material today, so thought I’d throw in a laugh or two. Hopefully.
Poor fella. Wish I were him.
Mind your manners.
You GO, studmuffin.
Caption already noted.
This guy gets my vote for ‘funniest face of the year’.
The last end-result of the catastrophic Gulf oil spill.
To thine own self be true
It doesn’t do me good to sit and ponder life too often, because when I do so it usually makes me want to cry. And anyone who knows me knows how much I hate to cry. The massive headache and swollen frog eyes afterward always make me regret it. Psshh, like I could’ve done anything to prevent it, anyway.
The things in life I have no control over. Okay, I can’t do anything to improve our economic crisis. I can’t prevent the massive amount of crime in the world. I’m not able to do a damn thing about that oilspill disaster that appears to have no end in sight. But what seems to be the hardest pill to swallow is hearing of someone you know and care about sit back and ruin their own self. And of how it’s affecting the ones who love them most.
A countdown to self-destruct. And I cannot do or say a thing about it. I cannot interfere.
Cry along
Although being a parent can be one of the most rewarding responsibilities in life, it’s also well-known to be the toughest.
Parenting. Everyone has their own idea of what it means, a mental list of what all it entails. There are no two sets of individual views that are exactly alike, because even if they possess similarities – the end result is always the same. Bottom line, God really does break the mold when he finishes making each and every one of us.
No matter how old they get, we as parents will never stop worrying about our children. As a young lady, I used to shrug that sentence off when my very own Mother would say it, usually throwing in the old eye-roll. I remember how I used to feel when I was young. As a young adult, I believed my parents either thought I wasn’t smart enough in my own decision-making, or I perceived them as trying to ‘rain on my parade’. Boy have I ever made some wrong choices in life that I’d been forewarned about. When I would fall down, there would be no “I told you so’s”. What happened then, when I fell? My Mother knelt down to me and cried along with me.
It’s hard when you see the wants in life overpowering the needs. I’m talking about the real needs. The Necessities. I was always told, ‘just worry about getting what you need… your wants will come later’. I still have a lot of wants, but that’s okay, I have most everything I need. The week-to-week struggle to maintain daily life definitely takes it’s toll sometimes – but I never forget to be thankful for a good job. Because of that, there is gas in my car and food in my belly. And by the Grace of God, a roof over my head.
Control is no longer an option. There comes a time when our babies wings are finally developed enough to soar the skies – we can’t and shouldn’t hold them back. But sincere advice, cordially delivered, is an option. And as a lifelong loving parent, a God-given right. I only pray for the realization of basic needs to overpower the wants. Any parent who genuinely loves their children only wants the best for them – for them to have sincere happiness, health and prosperity. As for what the future holds – if there ever is an instance of falling down… I will do the only thing that I’m able to do as a parent.
I will kneel down and cry along with them.
Eventually
As I sit here once again pondering life (mine, not others), the word ‘eventually’ is hangin’ around in my brain. It’s a pretty cool word actually, if you really think about it…
Eventually. The definition varies from source to source. “Finally, at a future point in time” or “in the course of time”, and “at an unspecified later time: in the end”.
All things eventual.
I generally see positive in the word. All things bad will eventually come to an end. Eventually, I’ll get that boat I’ve always wanted. I feel like crap, but I know I’ll eventually feel better. I know all my hard work will eventually pay off. The sun will come back out eventually. Eventually, this oil spill thing will be fixed. (Are we still calling it a spill?)
NOT ‘If keep drinking like this eventually my liver’s gonna fail me.’
Promise. Hope. Yeah – that’s how I see it.
Crystal Blue Persuasion
Diamonds are formed from ugly rocks under great pressure. The pressures of life can cause us to transform into something strong and beautiful. As well, it can cause a complete and total meltdown of body, mind and soul.
I sit here with a glass of wine beside me, my cat by my side, lights dimmed. The flame of a candle dances near me. It’s nighttime and my body is preparing for sleep, though I don’t want to sleep just yet. I want to bask in the last night of my weekend freedom – and immerse myself in the peace the heavy rain in the background brings.
I don’t want to become me again until tomorrow.
I’m safe here.
Outside, it waits. This country I so loved and respected has been all but completely consumed by vile and contemptuous beings – who hide under the title of government. They are the beaks that slowly pick the last bit of meat from my ribs as I lie helpless, alone. And so, it waits. They wait. For me.
I hide.
I won’t think about the stress of life or the liars, the manipulators and the cheaters who lie in wait immediately outside my little sanctuary in the sky. The fresh smell of spring night air is still being ushered in from outside an open window. The rhythmic sound of the falling rain is my audio for the night – I need no other sound.
I will dwell on my endless blessings. I will drive into work tomorrow and apply myself wholeheartedly, still. I will forget about all the evil that has transpired in the course of my lifetime, leading up to this very moment in time.
I will embrace in myself that which cannot be stolen or lied to.
For now, here… I’m safe.
Needful things
You really can’t get any two more different ramblings than those which I have right now. This is me, though. A smorgasbord of thoughts running rampant through an already overactive mind that’s currently working overtime. So I have to unload sometimes, and this blog is my dumpsite. This is my life.
The Life of Bon.
Oh, they’ve finally labeled it. It’s taken this long. (Initial thoughts on Ft. Hood.). The Ft. Hood attacks are now officially being termed as “an act of radical Islamic Muslim Terrorism”. Geez, why couldn’t they have labeled it as such when the details of the attack first surfaced? In my humble opinion we have a buffoon as the Homeland Security Secretary, Ms. Janet “The System Worked” Napolitano. America is slippery at best with her holding this position. I trust her about as far as I can throw her since she’s already been proven a liar. Oh, she needn’t feel alone in her position… I believe her to be just one of many buffoons within the current administration.
When the hell are the higher-ups of this country going to stop worrying about offending the people of Islam by using the term radical Islamic Muslim terrorists? Radical. Islamic. Muslim. Terrorism. Say the damn words! And often. Because it’s alive and well.
On a much different note, I was recently sent a survey via email correspondence that ended up telling you some of the qualities that your perfect mate would possess. Laughable, I know, because those little survey things are never really accurate anyway. But, it got me thinking, what are we really looking for in life from a partner? And is it actually possible to find your soulmate?
Oh yeah… I must go there. So off I go.
- True sincerity.
- He will be honest and forthright.
- He will have high goals set for the future, and consistently work hard to achieve them.
- He will possess confidence in his self without being haughty or boastful.
- He shows kindness and consideration to wait staff, clerks and the general public who services him.
- Noticing a stranger in a tight spot, he will stop to help them.
- He’ll keep his manners about him even when he thinks no one is watching.
- He knows what he wants in life and how to get it – furthermore, gets it.
- He will have a patience level beyond that of anyone I’ve ever known.
- He will have class, and strong moral values.
- He will be a non-smoker. (Only because I have to stay quit myself.)
- He will love his children unmercifully.
- He will provide a strong sense of stability, and is reliable.
- He will have impeccable hygiene.
- He’ll enjoy taking that occasional trip or vacation.
- He will be tall.
- Loves to laugh and cut up, but also knows when to be serious.
- He will do his best to protect me at any cost.
- He’ll be a hard worker in whatever profession he has.
- He will be able to calm me when I am in disarray.
- He will believe the Bible is the Truth, and love and trust our Lord.
- He’ll respect my southern belle beliefs.
- He will never show even the slightest hint of violent behavior.
- He will love animals.
- He will have me on his mind 24/7, and I’ll know this only because he tells me so.
And I will never, even once, doubt his love for me.
Sound like a lot to be looking for? I say, nah. These are the essential traits I’m in search of. As well, I would expect everyone has that mental list of necessary traits they’re seeking in a lifetime partner. Realizing that no one is ever going to find that exact match, neither do I believe we have to settle. The truth is, we are all sinners saved by Grace – so there’s not a perfect one of us out there. But there are certain key elements we must insist on in order to maintain a long and successful relationship. These just happen to be mine…
Dirty Dreams
Another night with very little sleep. Seems like I was up every hour. And these damned dreams, I’d like to have a night or two without them.
Last night I dreamed I was in a station wagon with an old girlfriend, who happens to be the mother of one of my daughter’s friends. She was driving erratically, and took a course off the road and down an embankment into a nearby field of sorts. We almost flipped going down it. Once we got to the ‘field’, we were stuck – we got out and noticed there was mud literally everywhere. We were then greeted by a couple of little dogs, fortunately they were friendly. Thick, heavy, orange mud abounded all over the place. I was barefoot, and everywhere I stepped was this mud, going in between my toes. The saving grace was there were also puddles of water here and there, they were muddy as well but held enough water to rinse off – albeit temporarily. I was then introduced to four ladies who are the sisters of a dear friend of mine (a different friend, not the driver of the car).
Obviously the key word in this dream is Mud. I didn’t like the interpretation of it.
- To see mud in your dream, suggests that you are involved in a messy and sticky situation. It also suggests that some internal cleansing is needed.
- Walking in mud interpretation #1: To dream that you are walking in mud, suggests that you are feeling weighed down by a situation, problem, or relationship. You are feeling frustrated.
- Walking in mud interpretation #2: To dream that you walk in mud, denotes that you will have cause to lose confidence in friendships or relationships, and there will be losses and disturbances in family circles.
- To dream that mud has gotten on your clothing or body, signifies that your reputation is being attacked and called into question.
Well, enough already of the dream stuff.
I heard something that was absolutely a scream on the news this morning. There’s this new ‘company’ out there called Eternal Earth-Bound Pet, completely founded, operated and ran by atheists. For a nominal fee, this ‘company’ promises lifetime care for almost all domestic pets if their owners are transported to heaven within the next ten years. All of the atheists who are signed up across 20 states are self-professed sinners and blasphemers, and guarantee they will be left behind when the rapture comes and the chosen are lifted.
The group insists that this offer is real, as real as we christians believe the coming rapture to be. The founders are striving to assure us believers that our animals will “live in loving homes, not in animal shelters or pet mills”.
You’ve gotta be kidding me. These idiots have no idea how their very own quality of life will suffer after the imminent rapture (that they are now monetarily profiting from) occurs. There will be catastrophes of epic proportions everywhere. Pain, grief, sorrow, depair, desperation….you name it. Do you think they’re gonna worry about living up to some contract for pets of the persons who will now be considered lucky and blessed in their eyes? It’s gonna be a job for them to be able to keep their own pets alive and intact.
So, thanks for the offer, atheists – but no thanks. I’ll continue to rely on the fact that my dear Lord has a plan implemented for our dearly loved furbabies, as he has a plan in place for everything and everyone. I will make no deal with the likes of you. The Lord created them, and upon his return for us I trust and believe our dear pets will be taken care of in a way mannered by Him.
And Him alone.
New Year, New Beginnings
2009 – a colorful year it’s been for me. In addition to my love for the ocean, there’s actually a hidden reason behind why I chose my particular banner picture, which I pasted a copy of below.
Color.
Those who know me know that my ‘word of the year’ chosen to represent 2008 was Monumental. 2008 was my year of change, a change that required an extreme strength and perseverance – the type of strength I thought never could exist in me. For this reason I believe the word Monumental to be ever so fitting for that year.
I find it just as fitting to associate the word Colorful with my year of 2009. In this little rainbow prismatic year of mine, I’ve basically created a complete series of making mistakes and learning from them. But never mind the mistakes I’ve made, or the repercussions from them – I still have to look back and smile, at all of it. I’ve come to realize how I’ve grown and have been made a better person now, by just having been associated with some new people that came in and out of my life.
I look at it this way. 2008, the last half of it anyway, started out as a shockwave. Fast-forward to sorrow, self-pity, and finally moving into that godforsaken lonely empty feeling. As I moved into 2009, the search was on. For what… I didn’t know. I was however reaching out for something, with arms wide open. I found that, like a butterfly who had just discovered her wings, the world was mine for the taking. The territory left unchartered was endless. So many opportunities, and so much lost time. Nope – the objects I landed on weren’t always in my best interest. I’ve taken much from these experiences though – through weathering the storms and learning some pretty hard lessons. I’ve found that it’s how we react and learn from our mistakes that will determine our success in life, or lack of it.
Hmm. Can’t help but wonder what my word of 2010 will be.
Banner picture for 2009
Christmas pasts
No, I didn’t spell it wrong, or mis-phrase it. The way it reads just makes more sense to me. Not Christmases, or Christmases past. But rather the many ‘pasts‘ that stick out in my mind whenever I think of Christmas.
Barringer. A brand new pair of shiny black patent leather lace-up boots from my uncle and aunt. Came all the way up to my knees, they did. I laced ’em up right there on the couch as soon as I unwrapped them, my family laughing while my uncle videotaped me. Back then, these videos landed on movie reels. That same year in ’73 I got a jewelry box slammed full of jewelry…. I felt like a princess with all that bling. A princess with mega bling and shiny black boots. I didn’t know it at the time, but the pattern of my taste in life was forming, even then.
Collingwood. Mom and Mammaw had both worked that Christmas eve. Still in her uniform, Mammaw was so exhausted that she laid down in the floor right underneath that Christmas tree. My uncle, Mom’s youngest brother, trotted in with many bags and a huge stuffed dog that was taller than me. That dog ended up being mine, it was too big to wrap. Every year he would go out on Christmas eve and to do his Christmas shopping, hauling the load in at the last minute for Mom and Mammaw to wrap up. That night, Mom laid down with me to get me to sleep so that Santa could come. She fell asleep with me, and Mammaw decided to let her sleep. Later that night, through the bedroom window, I saw my Mammaw and uncle dragging a new bike in for me – to Bon, from Santa. 🙂
Old Dowd. A box FULL of new books. Not any old box – I’m talking a box of epic proportions. There must’ve been 40-50 new books in that one box. The Little House on the Prairie collection, several Tom Sawyer adventures, Little Women, and so many more that I can’t remember. I recall sleeping with some of those books that night, the smell of fresh new books was intoxicating. It was an awesome gift that I enjoyed for many years, from my loving Mama.
Hartford. Ham and lots of goodies to eat. Great uncle J talking with no one listening. My first pair of designer jeans, Calvin Klein himself embroidered on the rear pocket. They were too small and had to be exchanged later, but it was official – I was now cool. Maybe not in my peers eyes, but definitely in my own! Archie, the family dog, gets to experience his once-a-year visit inside the house – much resembling the running of the bulls with the addition of a red Christmas bow stuck to his head.
Ever notice the memories of your childhood Christmas pasts usually involve the gifts you received? The ones that made the biggest impact on you often stick in your memory like glue.
Sloan. My Mother’s boyfriend. I wasn’t so sure about this guy…. didn’t think his intentions were quite up to par with what I knew she deserved. Besides, who did he think he was trying to horn in on our family time? I go my own way, where I want, when I want. Hell I just moved back in from being gone for almost a year, and this guy’s practically running the show. Then again, my Mammaw seems to like him. Mammaw’s a pretty good judge of character, and she’s rarely wrong. Hmm, he gave me a stereo for Christmas. This guy may not be all bad. I’ll just have to keep my eye on him.
Fort Mill. My precious little baby girl made out like a bandit, and I’m so glad. Christmas is different now, somehow… I can’t quite put my finger on why, but know enough to realize it involves the newest part of me – my baby daughter. So THIS is why they say that children make Christmas. I have a family of my own now, added to my existing family, plus my new extended family – that of my husbands. Wow, this holds promise of getting a bit hectic. But hey, that’s Christmas! Oh, and that boyfriend of Mom’s? He’s now my stepdaddy, and pawpaw to my baby girl. And a fine job he’s doing at both.
Abbey/Village Lake. Blessed Christmases. Always blessed, always getting way more than we deserve. It’s not necessarily gifts that stick out in my mind now, rather it’s the multitude of bounties our families bestow upon us during Christmas that seems to always catch us up. We all truly have an abundance, thanks given to our families and God. Okay, there is one time around this era where gifts really do stick out. That would be the Christmas when my husband accidentally threw all his gifts away.
Scarlet. Mammaw’s sick. Really sick. She insisted on getting through Christmas without a hospital visit, but this was a bad idea. She can barely breathe, both her face and body are really swollen. Congestive heart failure is what it ends up being – little did we know then. Fast forward to another Christmas. Pawpaw isn’t feeling well. He’s trying to deal, but running a fever, thinks it’s the flu. It might’ve been the flu then. But it wasn’t the flu that caused his heart to fail in front of us two weeks later.
Poplar Forest. New house, and so proud to have Christmas here. Much has changed in past years, we have two who are no longer with us and are reminded of that pain especially during the holidays. Baby girl is continuing to grow into a fine young lady – downside of this is gifts are getting much harder to pick for her. My most memorable gift – my wedding ring set that my husband had reset from yellow into white gold, given to me on Christmas eve. Little did either of us know then of what was to come in the near future.
Hamilton’s Harbor. I have only one Christmas here, so far – but in a couple of weeks I’ll have two, and with that more memories made. The one Christmas here consisted mainly of my past memories. This can be a good thing, as well as being detrimental – but I have to remember that every single thing we’ve experienced and endured in our lives shapes the person we are today. You either learn and grow… or you let it defeat you. Things change, life changes, and we must go on.
‘God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.’ ~James Matthew Barrie, Scottish dramatist & novelist; best known as the creator of Peter Pan
Life of Bon 
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