tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25541536050245129912024-03-05T22:03:50.125-06:00there's a circus in my brainWelcome to my freak show!rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.comBlogger332125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-66767752788167449112011-07-19T15:58:00.004-05:002011-07-19T16:19:12.045-05:00Update...<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I'm feeling pretty uninspired these days, so I haven't been writing anything.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I did get drafted into my first mission trip with the youth, but I already told you about that. I had an amazing time. The kids were pretty good, and the leadership was exceptional. We have a group of college kids who feel called into ministry and who work with the youth groups of our church. These interns are really on fire for the Lord, and so cool that the kids do whatever they ask. I mean, they are like the cool big brothers and sisters that they don't want to disappoint.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Which works!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The kitchen duties seemed overwhelming at first, but everything just flowed. I had a great team, and we worked together well. The kitchen was a little under-supplied, but the serving facilities were awesome! I got some good intel from our own kitchen lady, and she steered me in the right direction. Everything she said was spot on, and it was like she'd been doing this for 30 years or more. (she has...)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And the comments from the kids were so encouraging! "This is the best thing I ever ate!" was something I heard more than once. One of the interns declared the food the best camp food he'd ever had, then informed me that he'd been to camp A LOT! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Makes this kitchen lady smile, just thinking about it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, God had a few things to show me while I was there. He took me out of my comfort zone to give me a little perspective on my own circumstances. Gave me a word just for me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I needed to hear from Him, and He spoke. Revealed some personal sin to me, and told me He's gonna use me to do some work. So I've been praying a lot and staying in a general attitude of willingness to be used. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I decided to go to the church gym yesterday and get busy walking and rope jumping again, when I was snagged by the new trainer. Seems this lady was told by the Lord to help out anyone who would come, and she took my presence for willingness. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Stink.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">So now I'm going daily at 10 and doing 30 minutes of cardio and about an hour of weight training. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I say that like I have been doing it for weeks, instead of two days.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Hey, commitment can come after such a short time!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">'Scuse me while I hobble off to the hot tub...</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-9202927268600618332011-07-08T07:25:00.003-05:002011-07-08T07:38:13.986-05:00Outside the Comfort Zone<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I'm not really sure what happened. It really just sneaked (snuck??) up on me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I got a call from a friend, who is organizing youth functions for our church.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Diane, I have a need, and your name just keeps coming to mind. I was wondering if you would be willing to work on the cooking team for the mid-high mission trip next week."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Hmmm. Let me think. I am pretty free these days, but I have a Pampered Chef party next Friday at my house... <span style="font-size:85%;">(which my husband is secretly looking forward to, because it means the house will be clean...)</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We will be back in time for that? Well, let me see if I can arrange childcare.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">*Childcare mysteriously falls into place...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Okay, I'm in.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Good, you will be feeding fifty people, and I need a menu and grocery list as soon as possible."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">WHAT?!?!?!</span></strong> I thought I was just going to be <strong>HELPING</strong>, not <strong>PLANNING</strong>!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I am NOT A PLANNER!! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">*Groan... opens excel to build a menu spreadsheet...</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-13227937473292422772011-06-30T23:56:00.004-05:002011-07-01T00:20:04.647-05:00Side kick<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Okay, so you probably noticed that I have been missing for a little while. I have been having a family crisis. And since most of you are facebook friends, you likely already know of which I speak. But just in case someone is out of the loop, I'll link you to my sister's </span><a href="http://eeyorescorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/559.html"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">blog </span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">and you can read her version. It's her </span><a href="http://eeyorescorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/independence-day.html"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">story</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">, really. I'm just the BFF, who has jumped in as hero support.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I make a good side-kick.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Hmm... gonna have to think of a good side-kick name...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, I'm stewing on the sidelines with a few good zingers, which the fact that I'm trying to do the upright thing, won't allow me to scream. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We aren't really sure what to expect next, but since I'm really bad "at this game" of remembering details, even five minutes after things happen, (according to my sister, :) I have written a detailed account, for any event which should require me to recall stuff.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Thankfully, my kids are getting old enough to see what this has done to our family. I have shielded them from the truth, because it is so hard to understand, for children. Shoot! I'm almost 40, and I still don't get it. But this time, they have seen it all. They have seen the destruction and the pain. They have witnessed the brokenness and heartache. But the best thing, is that they have seen that real love doesn't always come from family. Sometimes it comes from friends and sometimes it comes from people you barely know.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And God has been with us through it all. They have seen me rely on Him in a way I never have before, giving glory to God all the way. What more could I ask for?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Lava Rock Girl. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I'm going with that one.</span>rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-86932592675023895282011-06-03T11:01:00.003-05:002011-06-03T11:08:37.292-05:00SO busy!<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It is almost noon and what have I done today? I have been outside for a walk/run and taken a nap. I have read a bit and facebooked a bit. I have prayed for a while and caught up on a few blogs I enjoy. Basically, I have done nothing. At this very moment my children are watching their second hour of television, and their brains are turning to mush. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It 's not like I have nothing to do, mind you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The house is a mess.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The boat needs to be finished getting clean.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The laundry should be going.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The dogs need bathed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The wallpaper in Caleb's room needs to be finished being stripped.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I have guests coming over for dinner, and I'm not really sure what we are having yet.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I should really get busy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">After I lay out...</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-43113248985810046462011-05-05T12:50:00.002-05:002011-05-05T12:54:56.535-05:00The Testimony of the Dogs<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">All day today the dogs have been following me around the house. They are freaking out at the flurry of activity. The fact that I am wearing shoes bears witness that I am ready to leave them, and I have left them a lot in the past ten months. They are used to me sitting on the couch under a blanket whenever I am home, so watching me scurry around doing laundry and dishes is rocking their little world. They'll get over it.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-47816794763022146912011-05-04T12:02:00.003-05:002011-05-04T12:12:32.691-05:00And..... I'm back!<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Wow! Today is literally the first day of the rest of my life. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Yesterday I told Caleb I was so excited for today. "Why?" He wondered... </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Because I get to do laundry. And dishes. And scrub the toilets. And mow the grass. And chop some wood. And. And. And...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Yes, after ten months of diverting my attention to the cause of paying tuition for Hailey, I am returning to my assigned role of stay-at-home-mom and homeschool teacher. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I'd like to think that I am wiser. I know for sure that I am stronger. (and thinner) :-)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">When I emerge from the mountain of chores that have awaited my attention for so long, I will share what led me to this place, and details of the growing I have done this past school year. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I have missed you all, almost as much as I have missed my children. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">But not quite. ;-)</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-67955195180886503322011-03-11T21:28:00.003-06:002011-03-11T21:51:43.543-06:00Crow~ It's What's for Dinner<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I feel a ramble coming on.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Yesterday I was the object of a virtual girl-gang fight, and it was absolutely surreal. Not only did I not see it coming, I didn't think it was warranted at all. But in the end, I caved. I didn't want to. I still don't want to. But I did it for Christians and for the sake of doing the right thing. In spite of the fact that I think the instigator of the mess was completely in the wrong. Way to take one for the Lord, eh? Well, let me tell ya. The fact that I am still not happy about eating it should show just how much of a hypocrite I feel like.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Sometimes doing the right thing TOTALLY SUCKS!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I told Shawn, after I ended it, that it is almost like the fight I'm in for my health. I don't want to eat the salad. I want the cake. But the cake is only for immediate satisfaction. So I put on my big girl panties and eat the salad. All the while, grumbling under my breath that the cake would have been much yummier. I didn't do the right thing because I wanted to, I did it because I HAD to. So what if I don't want to? The result is the same. I am fed and have the results of a good decision under my belt.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">SNORT-literally!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, I feel battered emotionally by someone I have kept contact with over the years, solely in the hopes that she will be drawn to the things of the Lord. I know I'm not a perfect example of Christianity. HELLO? I'm more than a hundred pounds overweight! Somewhere I have idols that are quite obvious.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I wanted so badly to lash out with the pain and defensiveness that I felt. In fact, I still feel it. I spent the whole night at work feverishly praying for forgiveness and the right attitude. I'm still not there. I have moments of forgiveness and peace, but then I fall back into defense mode and wanna go kick her tail. What? I'm human, and she attacked me publicly! But, for her sake, and for the sake of her friends, who were right on board for the Diane-and-all-Christians-out-there bashing session, I apologized for offending her and removed the offensive material.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Maybe tomorrow I will stop being mad about it.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-78455585074221545582011-02-20T06:27:00.003-06:002011-02-20T07:09:45.333-06:00Are You Kidding Me??<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Some people are just born stupid. Some of us are a little naive at times, and some of us are more than their share of, um, scatter-brained. I refuse to admit where I fall on this scale, in the effort not to incriminate myself.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Okay, fine. I admit I am quite scattered, and have to run back in the house (or send a kid, as it is easier, and doesn't require me to unbuckle my already buckled seat belt.) for something I forgot, that I will likely need while I am away from home. This might include my cell phone, Zune, sunglasses, jacket, water bottle, the other person still getting ready, etc. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I frequently set things down upon arriving home and forget where I have put them, prompting a frantic search when I am attempting to go somewhere the next time. Keys, phone, purse, jacket, water bottle, etc... </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And then there are the times when the kids, in their effort to "clean" their zones, will pick up said items, and stash them in the oddest places. Most of the time, they don't even remember where they have stashed the cannot-do-without item, and there is a full-alert lock down until the item surfaces.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Thus my morning began yesterday.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I woke up at noon, and while I was sleeping, Shawn and a handy-man I know had begun the project of re-flooring the kitchen/living room. (details on that later) I have worked with this handy-man on many occasions with my mom, so I feel very comfortable around him. So I got up, and was a little surprised to find that he had brought along a helper. The job is really big, so it made sense, but the guy was a stranger to me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">ANYway, I introduced myself and explained that I was sleeping until noon because I work nights, so he didn't think I was lazy, or something, when Shawn came back in to tell me that we needed to go pick out grout.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I threw on my shoes, grabbed my purse, and checked to make sure I had my phone, so the kids could call me when one of them was touching the other, which is when they feel the need to call me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">No phone.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Now, where did I lay that thing when I came in this morning?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Hmm. I'll call it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">*Picks up house phone and dials the number*</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Hi, this is Diane...."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Straight to voicemail. Great.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Then it hit me. I'd been having problems having to re-boot it, because I never powered it off, so I decided to power it down this morning. I set it right next to the stove, on the clean kitchen counter. And left it there. Where it wasn't anymore. Suddenly, Shawn remembered seeing it there. The kids adamantly denied stashing it somewhere, but we looked in all the usual places, on top the microwave, on top the refrigerator, in the bathroom, on my night stand, on the piano, fireplace, charging station, in my purse, in the refrigerator, pantry, microwave, my purse again...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It was just gone.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Then I realized there was one person in my house I didn't know, and I told Shawn, "I don't know that guy."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Shawn said I had to ask the handy-man if there was a chance...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So I did.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Um, I have to ask you a really hard question, and I really don't want to ask it. Is there any chance your helper picked up my phone?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"I don't think so, but I'll ask."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">*Pokes his head out the door*</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Hey, have you seen her phone?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"What does it look like?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">*I poke my head out and say*</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"It's an iPhone in a red case."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Nope, haven't seen it."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"It was on the kitchen counter. Are you sure you didn't see it at all?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Nope."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">At this time, I was pretty certain, but short of searching him, there was no way to know anything, so I continued the search, and left the handy-man with his helper. I could hear the handy-man through the door, but not what he was saying.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Moments later, the helper came back in the house and went into the bathroom. I waited. When he came out, Shawn and I went in to check. We each opened a drawer. Then I saw it. Stashed in a candle on the counter.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Um, no.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Needless to say, he was escorted off the property, in complete denial of the deed, and my trusty handy-man came back with his son-in-law, whom I have had the pleasure of working with and trust, and the job was resumed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The end. </span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-32459339412879317672011-01-20T13:58:00.006-06:002011-01-20T15:07:16.343-06:00The Cruise in Retrospect<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">If I had to express how I feel about the cruise, I'd simply say this.</span><br /><br /></div><div><div><div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurQfWwnrtpz98QUJlnUGkA_I6iBQVzWJ5FX_eyxwg18Rc7H_8RgR4MDGuJ4FzIH3HYkI2_DHC921qfDwEN_bC8fNphYXWGFxngtMLv7X0l0HYnPcdcSMTpghdF50SzzaDViW3-jv_VGs/s1600/Copy+of+100_0153.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369349460966386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurQfWwnrtpz98QUJlnUGkA_I6iBQVzWJ5FX_eyxwg18Rc7H_8RgR4MDGuJ4FzIH3HYkI2_DHC921qfDwEN_bC8fNphYXWGFxngtMLv7X0l0HYnPcdcSMTpghdF50SzzaDViW3-jv_VGs/s200/Copy+of+100_0153.JPG" /></a></p><div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I had a fabulous time.</span><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9chBWD6EAUy9msR3IwDkntbWz-tLAEJd-YT3o_GSba43-DQ1GoRYKvTRr50By1k_o3C0fisw5aoJmhyphenhyphenQYRi8-dTu-re6vizgJhQelyXWXOAWPsqDCTFPHm8XQcdl_zSND-klT4fBYcw/s1600/Copy+of+100_0239.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369805561882082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9chBWD6EAUy9msR3IwDkntbWz-tLAEJd-YT3o_GSba43-DQ1GoRYKvTRr50By1k_o3C0fisw5aoJmhyphenhyphenQYRi8-dTu-re6vizgJhQelyXWXOAWPsqDCTFPHm8XQcdl_zSND-klT4fBYcw/s200/Copy+of+100_0239.JPG" /></a></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I was pampered. </span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I was cared for.</span><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I was relaxed.</span></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXjzB38seM2xzRqleG0SzM3zEv5-ykkJ79lnhe0XcwVAQm0HR1OiQyTzcWphDS95kSKpk3hpOF2Y6tn563fXYAIwKgWyyGzeeAd8kLm5rR_m52Yd9-cZTS1NDo68QeoqCQbW9YhTFTKk/s1600/Copy+of+100_0194.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 141px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369800209219570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXjzB38seM2xzRqleG0SzM3zEv5-ykkJ79lnhe0XcwVAQm0HR1OiQyTzcWphDS95kSKpk3hpOF2Y6tn563fXYAIwKgWyyGzeeAd8kLm5rR_m52Yd9-cZTS1NDo68QeoqCQbW9YhTFTKk/s200/Copy+of+100_0194.JPG" /></a></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I rested.</span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I enjoyed myself.</span></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZjixIdg56GE9-hPRvgLW34LXiDbv2YNGLx16eWhyphenhyphen5Gw-BcddyIyhSmQcdqCYT-tpp9s2lXjZ0qIR6yjv1vnPbh3uR78fA0NJP3xUjFjRKnQV6i4YgLNr2RRctPiBuoZVxr6_Rc41O38/s1600/Copy+of+100_0263.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369812610774738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZjixIdg56GE9-hPRvgLW34LXiDbv2YNGLx16eWhyphenhyphen5Gw-BcddyIyhSmQcdqCYT-tpp9s2lXjZ0qIR6yjv1vnPbh3uR78fA0NJP3xUjFjRKnQV6i4YgLNr2RRctPiBuoZVxr6_Rc41O38/s200/Copy+of+100_0263.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">That said, I could take or leave the cruise scene. I enjoyed not being responsible for food, cleaning, or childcare for a week. But we don't drink, we don't gamble, we don't care which man has the sexiest legs or the best belly flop. We don't enjoy suggestive humor all that much, and we were never really into the Beetles. And who knew that karaoke is really just an excuse to get drunk and make an idiot of yourself?!?!</span></p><div><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We don't have money to island hop in search of the best deal on diamonds or tanzanite, so shopping isn't really our bag. </span></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Renting a boogie board and some fins is more our speed. Playing frisbee on the beach is fun and relaxing. Watching Caleb roll around in the surf and sand is entertaining, and taking Hailey to have her hair braided by an island local suits us just fine. Touring an old military fort is educational, and shooting the breeze with the family is great.</span></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0XHhqYhu8iSQnUb-Vfn-qfggx6RQxp55mlA2mLh6bq1G_ExZq8O0fS9NT6I3y-mpHNCyS5PQ78J0T7D2nrR1wNtkwovSz3oraSxQogVz3C7tSNuOEs5dz2XleEHQMtZugl4xkcDnjew/s1600/Copy+of+100_0186.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369356439554818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0XHhqYhu8iSQnUb-Vfn-qfggx6RQxp55mlA2mLh6bq1G_ExZq8O0fS9NT6I3y-mpHNCyS5PQ78J0T7D2nrR1wNtkwovSz3oraSxQogVz3C7tSNuOEs5dz2XleEHQMtZugl4xkcDnjew/s200/Copy+of+100_0186.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEEWB4GXk9KAq8xMf-S2MC1jeUBszFGO0vxnaFThXoZlDr0SdKyjYd1ed7rK1X55CkGCA0z08-wkrxTckqiZtMMW2w3BT-MDH3ULqrmHipAm6VxOy7dSzNk02vkb6cjqvgOtYEIKxPvA/s1600/Copy+of+100_0088.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369347498080274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEEWB4GXk9KAq8xMf-S2MC1jeUBszFGO0vxnaFThXoZlDr0SdKyjYd1ed7rK1X55CkGCA0z08-wkrxTckqiZtMMW2w3BT-MDH3ULqrmHipAm6VxOy7dSzNk02vkb6cjqvgOtYEIKxPvA/s200/Copy+of+100_0088.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEuauVWyWzeIv776srgVspY30ZIb2QufNULJeUH-AMa_uRIJQWgMBe-2z4aWJwUwwDglilxUiTDvUvL6fLsoCHsE9MJavgShfSv8z3s4HUm8MOZAkIin3zhHF6cXb6p-FOt1nDUpVcrY/s1600/Copy+of+100_0142.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369349270390466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEuauVWyWzeIv776srgVspY30ZIb2QufNULJeUH-AMa_uRIJQWgMBe-2z4aWJwUwwDglilxUiTDvUvL6fLsoCHsE9MJavgShfSv8z3s4HUm8MOZAkIin3zhHF6cXb6p-FOt1nDUpVcrY/s200/Copy+of+100_0142.JPG" /></a></span></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Snuggling in a hammock grove with my sweetie is cozy, and the combined sounds of the ocean and the swaying palm trees is enchanting. </span></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWmezP5KHsQxKkO57J0vbWSJZ1ju42AaatF5yo0LzB5nWAp5HaXYAmWXB4k2ePX3jZPjUgGQiDqYDw1n3hztiTcC-y9crhMKeTKhOXxEL8hgVvJHMJNlYQHj32TVg5OqkI8pZaAx8Mpw/s1600/Copy+of+100_0052.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369343340534210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWmezP5KHsQxKkO57J0vbWSJZ1ju42AaatF5yo0LzB5nWAp5HaXYAmWXB4k2ePX3jZPjUgGQiDqYDw1n3hztiTcC-y9crhMKeTKhOXxEL8hgVvJHMJNlYQHj32TVg5OqkI8pZaAx8Mpw/s200/Copy+of+100_0052.JPG" /></a></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLp0RXhEKwkIbPKgH5qj9y6yok2GYPDX21jI1tDUJJHvOxo5OLEuHtg0FyX5jc1tQz4lkCx1jm-Tk77MST-dUj98RgGIOf2mmyPtCwD2H7jwQvG0Z16azGWTEg492LLyXct1t1FQNYJPg/s1600/Copy+of+100_0593.JPG"></a> </p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Riding ATVs up mountains and back down through sub-tropical forests is awesome, as is sampling the various native fruits and foods of a certain sulphurous island. Snorkeling around a tropical reef on a rainy day is amazing.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLp0RXhEKwkIbPKgH5qj9y6yok2GYPDX21jI1tDUJJHvOxo5OLEuHtg0FyX5jc1tQz4lkCx1jm-Tk77MST-dUj98RgGIOf2mmyPtCwD2H7jwQvG0Z16azGWTEg492LLyXct1t1FQNYJPg/s1600/Copy+of+100_0593.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564370166954428050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLp0RXhEKwkIbPKgH5qj9y6yok2GYPDX21jI1tDUJJHvOxo5OLEuHtg0FyX5jc1tQz4lkCx1jm-Tk77MST-dUj98RgGIOf2mmyPtCwD2H7jwQvG0Z16azGWTEg492LLyXct1t1FQNYJPg/s200/Copy+of+100_0593.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf3QvZHjt9tKCcLJSxsITMah1I4reR8_AIlNgVYeWIaxmQz2hEf5qjV-PdNQtSQrogYlWraza7P41j_QGCxRMHdsxfgZqBFRy_2aOHRzs1rLDtgUiiXVSYWkas3QUB_eCg35tDrAOnwW4/s1600/Copy+of+100_0281.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369817989719602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf3QvZHjt9tKCcLJSxsITMah1I4reR8_AIlNgVYeWIaxmQz2hEf5qjV-PdNQtSQrogYlWraza7P41j_QGCxRMHdsxfgZqBFRy_2aOHRzs1rLDtgUiiXVSYWkas3QUB_eCg35tDrAOnwW4/s200/Copy+of+100_0281.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QFTSITt32JaK0Tox95tU3X7amXDW76wxuLjPMnQSWB4fEWt1hcpSm4YZb5Xxg7LXFW1Qz_4igMi9V1VEEK2O2TSs7w-t1YDQszADoED0m5pwqjh3CnfWKlLwn7jQJC8CFuJ2WBW0thI/s1600/Copy+of+100_0270.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564369815593671186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QFTSITt32JaK0Tox95tU3X7amXDW76wxuLjPMnQSWB4fEWt1hcpSm4YZb5Xxg7LXFW1Qz_4igMi9V1VEEK2O2TSs7w-t1YDQszADoED0m5pwqjh3CnfWKlLwn7jQJC8CFuJ2WBW0thI/s200/Copy+of+100_0270.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The color of the sea is positively alive. I am addicted to it now.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"> </span><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-jBZJ0Pkuyxgaq-XUgYoM01Ao5FKTbYqbUM-IH3ZeRRQrzzINB83f29w06GAY_Y9FkcFEBtQejBxV0Ub-gb5-YGYP5Atu-ZfodGsPr-6u0uKoCxawZMTkRE5qesHBPDBAh41Whl0BmI/s1600/Copy+of+100_0573.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564370167924767874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-jBZJ0Pkuyxgaq-XUgYoM01Ao5FKTbYqbUM-IH3ZeRRQrzzINB83f29w06GAY_Y9FkcFEBtQejBxV0Ub-gb5-YGYP5Atu-ZfodGsPr-6u0uKoCxawZMTkRE5qesHBPDBAh41Whl0BmI/s200/Copy+of+100_0573.JPG" /></a></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I am pretty sure that I could live comfortably on the beach where Mary and Harley got married. I hope we get to return and revisit some of our destinations someday. Meanwhile, I have tons of pictures to enjoy and remember.</span></div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nfK7S2Fbvt_N8TELYD3qmCmTuHTwpo6fhmWNyGCvTZo9IsDuYkB-7UyxqwuWjByMs5TCnsUiT_GMDuVwaVG1H-4Tjd4XQ6YGpW82wEpoHGKPTy70DHmCEzWMfhh67gSbqSZveoQqO8k/s1600/Copy+of+100_0347.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564370164453426354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nfK7S2Fbvt_N8TELYD3qmCmTuHTwpo6fhmWNyGCvTZo9IsDuYkB-7UyxqwuWjByMs5TCnsUiT_GMDuVwaVG1H-4Tjd4XQ6YGpW82wEpoHGKPTy70DHmCEzWMfhh67gSbqSZveoQqO8k/s200/Copy+of+100_0347.JPG" /></a><br /><br /></p><div><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" /></div></div></div></div></div>rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-82157683600655370052011-01-19T15:55:00.002-06:002011-01-19T16:05:51.584-06:00Free from Fraud<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">She is a fraud.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">A faker.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">She dons her facade like a cloak for the night and fools everyone.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">But they are beginning to suspect the truth.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">That she is not what she seems.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Her feigned strength is fading, and she falters.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">How long will it be before she fails?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Before she flings far the trappings of the role she has mistakenly assumed?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And embraces freedom?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">To be who she was made to be?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">To function fully as she was fashioned?</span></div><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-59274071248376719322010-12-23T14:18:00.003-06:002010-12-23T14:33:51.833-06:00You mean I have to name this??<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I know I've been gone a while, but I've been a busy lady.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Working is taking everything out of me, including my creativity. And I'm tired of whining to you all about how sore and tired I have been. So I've just been keeping quiet.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Peak has come, and we have had a boost in volume at work. It seems that everyone has something to send, and although I would like to complain about how much more work that is, I am just thankful for a job, and I might not have one, if not for the waxing and waning of volume capacities. Blah, blah, blah.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">We are gearing up for the upcoming trip to the Caribbean. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Yes, I am going on my first cruise.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">And taking my children.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Boo.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">It seems that they are supposed to accompany us on this trip, since it is really for my SIL's wedding, and they need to be there.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Whatever.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I am 38, going on my first cruise.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Taking an 11 and a 12 year old.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Yup, still boo.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, they are stoked about all the fun we will have. Of course, we will be having fun on the boat, because we are too broke to do much sight seeing in the beautiful places we plan to visit. But at least we get to get ON the boat. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">But then, we have to swim to Puerto Rico, since we really can't affort airline tickets...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Nah. We will be flying. The kids'll be swimming. teehee.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">For some reason, we seem to be taking this wonderful vacation about six weeks before we will have our income tax refund, which is no consolation, because we don't expect much this year. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Anyhoo, I'm doing a little Christmas baking. I have been sick for the past few days, so I've been off work. Really bad timing, considering peak, but you should have heard me cough. I have been toning my stomach muscles using the power of this cough. Now Hailey has it. Poor baby! Hopefully, she won't run a fever like I did.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Guess I should go put together the chocolate chip banana bread. Gotta make up for the peanut butter cookies I burned. At least they had peanut butter in them.</span><br /><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-2365942096639012852010-12-08T05:08:00.002-06:002010-12-08T05:29:22.211-06:00...but I play one on TV<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">When I was growing up, we used to sing a song about being a sermon in shoes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Do you know, oh Christian, you're a sermon in shoes?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Do you know, oh, Christian, you're a sermon in shoes?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Jesus counts upon you to spread the gospel news, so</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Teach it and preach it, a sermon in shoes." </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Then we added the phrases "know it and show it," "live it and give it," and a few other rhyming additions before we had the big finale, "A SERMON IN SHOOOOOOOOOOEEES!"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Good times.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I may have understood a little what we were singing, but only in a child's way.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Something about being doers and not just hearers of the Word.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Well, time has passed and the song comes to mind occasionally. I was really blessed with my childhood head being filled with scripture songs that God still uses to remind me how to be that sermon in shoes. It's amazing how a God brings them to mind when I need them.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I've learned something about myself on this journey of becoming a working mom.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I'm not the same person I was, some 12 years ago. (Thank God!)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Before, I don't think anyone I worked with knew that I was a Christian. For so long I have subscribed to the "Don't label yourself as a Christian, so you won't have to <del>look bad when you mess up</del> give an account to everyone around." I joke about not putting a fish on my car, because then I'd have to drive like Jesus would. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Now, after being out of the dog-eat-dog, every-man-for-himself world for so long, I have learned to put others' needs ahead of my own. I have learned that the world doesn't revolve around me. It isn't always about me, and we sometimes do what we must. Being thrust back into that place has shown me what a blessing it has been to be shielded from it long enough to grow up and develop some empathy and integrity.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The job I do affords me time to think and pray, sometimes out loud, for the things and people on my mind. I get to sing to myself and talk to God about anything and everything. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Hopefully, I am learning to not just <em>call</em> myself a Christian, but actually <em>act</em> like one, too.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-40930079946027917932010-11-07T19:30:00.003-06:002010-11-07T19:46:21.809-06:00When good cleaners go bad<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">My mom flips houses. You know, buys foreclosed rejects, fixes them up and </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>POOF</strong></span> </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">sells them for a profit. So whenever she has a house that needs fixing, I usually jump in and help out. It gives me a little extra income and helps her get finished more quickly. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Win-win. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So yesterday, when I was there painting cabinet door faces, I realized a few of them were pretty dirty. The kitchen and bathroom sinks are currently disconnected, and the only water source is the outside hose. I had Hailey bring me a wet rag and the bottle of pine-sol. Pouring a bit of pine-sol on the rag as needed, I scrubbed the doors, then painted them. It wasn't until about an hour later that I realized something was wrong. I turned to look at Hailey and the room swam. Determined to finish, I quickly swiped paint on the remaining drawer faces and stood to clean up. I could barely walk! I didn't even TRY to clean my paint brush. Signing out, the list was blurry. I got in my car, thinking that if I could just get home, I could go to bed. Nothing doing. I was violently nauseated. I drove about three blocks before I pulled over and called for back-up. After being rescued by family, and resting the remainder of the evening, I looked online for some answers. Apparently, there are people who sniff pine-sol <strong>ON PURPOSE</strong>! Sheesh! But dizziness is a common side effect of breathing the fumes. I guess painting and cleaning in a closed room was a bad idea.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-18823333022803096332010-10-26T12:15:00.003-05:002010-10-26T12:33:05.644-05:00And now, back to our regularly scheduled program<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Last night was my first night back at work, after a six week medical leave of absence.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I have to say, it was a little surreal. Everyone was surprised to see me, although no one seemed happy I was back. It was just matter of fact. She's back. Moving on.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">My manager was out, but I was able to get into the facility, so she (or someone) must have put me in the system. Hopefully the fact that I couldn't clock in or out won't be a problem.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Thankfully, my doctor limited me to two hours of standing/walking at a time, so I was only there for a little while. After the first hour my foot felt like a hot branding iron was being applied directly to the bottom of it. The second hour was spent carefully watching the clock.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, I got my brochures and business cards from the printer, so I will be sending out tons of them tomorrow. I'm working on building a website now. Hopefully, I'll start to see some business soon.</span><br /><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-79163808347214635662010-10-06T10:38:00.004-05:002010-10-06T10:53:14.122-05:00My New Obsession<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRfxet4lzRRneGHxeQxZLGggSPk9ogVEV3y_vOJK3AsnptEMXzvsrUWH0OFXlUFH7VCulWgqnZJB7t1BLh-K8ddRiJIt_Nh7UxLQEe6GTIueQv2735j481KPNMrGSNDRDMpJ-Jt-QblY/s1600/100_3755.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524958447913228274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRfxet4lzRRneGHxeQxZLGggSPk9ogVEV3y_vOJK3AsnptEMXzvsrUWH0OFXlUFH7VCulWgqnZJB7t1BLh-K8ddRiJIt_Nh7UxLQEe6GTIueQv2735j481KPNMrGSNDRDMpJ-Jt-QblY/s320/100_3755.JPG" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">If you know me at all, you know that when I get started on something, I <em>slightly</em> obsess about it.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It doesn't really matter what it is, and when I get tired of it, I put it away.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Sometimes I pick it back up.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Like this one.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">In my time of recovery from my injury, I have spent some time reevaluating my destiny in life. :-) </span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">At this time, I am enjoying being home with Caleb while Hailey is away at school. And I'm playing with my facepaints.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I found a cool face painting forum online, joined, and have been reading up on technique, style, and information.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I rented a booth at the local flea market and set up to paint faces there. In spite of the weather being absolutely perfect, I did less-than-impressive business. Apparently, people going to the flea market are looking to buy <strong>stuff</strong>, not get their faces painted. My bad. So I will be keeping my ear to the ground about local fairs and events, hoping to get some real painting done. Meanwhile we also used the booth to sell some stuff lying around here, and made more with that than my painting. HA!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I made up some business cards and brochures, which a fabulously talented printer I know is printing for me. :-)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I had some brilliant ideas about where I will take them once I have them: some places where kids hang out, and parents are looking to spend money on them. I don't mind taking their money! ;-D</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" /></div><br /><div></div>rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-46103144854922730922010-09-22T13:03:00.004-05:002010-09-22T13:20:46.963-05:00The Tangled Web I DIDN'T Weave<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">This whole situation has become a stupid, confusing mess.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">You know that moment when you realize that a small decision could have made things SO much easier, but you made the decision you made, and you can't go back?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Well, this morning I was given the opportunity to go back. I couldn't take it, because I would be lying, if I did.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I got the call from my senior manager, who wanted to let me know that dancing at work means a warning letter. (read-being written up.) Then she asked me if I was <em><strong>sure</strong></em> I hurt myself dancing. I understand that she was trying to be gracious. I get that she was trying to give me an "out." But I apologized for any inconvenience, since the fact that I hurt my foot dancing a little step means that workman's comp will be denying my claim, and now they have to go to the trouble to discipline me. Oh, gosh! Shame on me for having a moment of jubilation and not being willing to lie about it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, I have been ordered to see a doctor approved by workman's comp, who happens to be out-of-network from my health insurance. The workman's-comp-approved doctor has ordered me to physical therapy, which means if I get the denial from WC while going to PT, I will have to discontinue PT, go see my PCP and get her to re-order it, which will take time, all while I am out of work.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">O G! (oh, gee!)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">But what am I doing now?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Sitting by the phone, waiting for the WC case worker to call me and tell me what to do.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I think I'll get out my rubber exercise band and do my OWN PT!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Now, who will I charge for it?</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-61452756299599201422010-09-16T16:13:00.004-05:002010-09-16T16:34:31.419-05:00The Impatient Patient<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Wah! I am a whiney baby when I'm hurt. I don't like being in pain. I have no idea how my sister copes, having real issues with pain. My own issues are so temporary, compared with hers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">But, there you have it. I am a big, whiney baby.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">The good news is that I am surrounded by people who are extremely merciful.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I ended up not getting to go to the orthopedic specialist. Turns out when you hurt yourself at work, it's considered an on-the-job injury. (even if you weren't doing your job when it happened) </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Dancing isn't exactly in my job description.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">I figured that since I got hurt doing something non-work-related, that it would be wrong to file for workman's compensation. Instead, I got in big, fat trouble for not reporting the injury immediately.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Well, I would be in much more trouble if I didn't have a very understanding manager. (a VUM, if you will) Apparently, it is against company policy to not report an injury. In fact, it's such a no-no that I learned I would be given a warning letter, which would stay in my file for a year, meaning I can't bid on any other jobs for that time. But my VUM appealed to the OSHA director with my reasoning, and it seems that they may decide to give me grace, since I thought I was doing the right thing.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, I was given a list of approved doctors to visit, and saw one of them the next day. She concurred with Dr. Wilcox's diagnosis of a torn plantar fascia, but decided to just give it time to heal. I have to go back in a week and let her re-check. I still have to stay off it; I'm not allowed to drive; I have to ice it for 15 minutes every hour and take the medicine Dr. Wilcox had already prescribed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">But I have to say, I really want to chuck the crutches and just WALK to the bathroom when I need to potty. I am tired of watching TV. I would really love to just read a book, but I can't go to the library. The anti-inflammatory drug I am taking knocks me flat, and gives me a headache. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">But I am home. I have seen my kids a lot. I have held my doggies. I have slept during the night. I have had really great friends bring me dinner. I am being well taken care of. I have no reason to complain.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-24950231841267160342010-09-12T08:22:00.003-05:002010-09-12T08:34:56.693-05:00Raining and pouring, etc.<div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Several weeks ago, I fell and hyperflexed my knee. It has been a miserable recovery, but I am almost there. Unfortunately, due to some frivolity on my part, I cannot walk, yet again, because I tore the plantar fascia on the bottom of my right foot. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The ER doctor has referred me to an orthopedist and I'll be checking in with him early next week. We shall see. I have no idea how long I'll be out of work, but I am under orders to not bear weight on it, prompting me to hobble around on some very fashionable crutches.</span></span></div><img src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-54303755926696794742010-08-20T05:16:00.003-05:002010-08-20T06:02:28.002-05:00Epic Fail<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I have mentioned <a href="http://rthling4now.blogspot.com/2010/07/zero.html">before</a> that I don't like people who don't do their job. And particularly, one person in particular gets on my last particular nerve, but I'm <strong>REALLY</strong> trying to keep a good attitude about it. Last night, (still today to me, because I haven't been to bed yet) she was in rare form. She doesn't do anything and she treats me like I'm an idiot. I have a very strong suspicion that she doesn't like me, which is fine, because the feeling is mutual. But we do have to work together, so I try to be nice.<br />But God has been on my case about my attitude. I can't do anything about her actions, but I can do something about my <em>RE</em>actions. So tonight, whenever I would feel the frustration building, I would sing a song I learned as a child, which is basically Philippians 4:8 put to music:<br />"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, I am trying to keep my mind stayed on God and how He so richly blessed me all day yesterday.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It started with my manager letting me go home early so I would be well rested for an appointment I had. Then, at this appointment, I took a very tough test and miraculously passed it. I say miraculously, because there's no way I got any of the answers right on purpose. I didn't have time to do the complex math problems, much less decide which multiple choice answer to pick. So, either God directed my hand in the random choices I made, or the correct answer wasn't really the point. They told us to not leave anything blank. I answered everything.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Then I got a message from a friend whose child has outgrown the uniform shirts I needed to buy for Hailey, and wants to bless us with them. Hailey gets some used, but still in good condition uniform shirts for free!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So tonight I was determined to keep my chin up and not let her get to me. I was fine almost all night.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Then <strong><em>IT</em></strong> happened.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Every night we go load a plane near a building with a restroom. Every night, several of us go into this building and <em>use</em> said restroom. Tonight, however, I asked if it was okay for me to go inside and she told me we weren't allowed to go in there. I told her I go in there every night. Apparently, we aren't really <em>supposed</em> to go in, because the pilots don't like to share their nice building with hourlies. So I can't go use the restroom.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">She says, "You should have gone before you came out to the plane."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I say, "I didn't want to leave the slide, when I always use the bathroom out here."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">She says, "Well, you can't go in there anymore."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So I say, "Well, then, you'll have to take me back."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">She says, "I can't take you back now. We have to load the plane."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I lost it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Testimony~gone.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I got off the people mover and shouted that she could have told me that before she drove me all the way out to the plane, stormed off, threw my bag to the ground, and proceded to tell the rest of the crew just what I thought of being treated that way.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">After it was all said and done, I had to apologize for over reacting and being childish. Who knows if I will be in trouble for making a fuss, but I did apologize to everyone individually.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">But the thing I was most grieved about was that I was trying so hard to be a witness to these people. I had even had the chance to share the gospel with some of them. But I am still a sinner. We all make mistakes. Thankfully, God's mercies are new every morning.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And guess what?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It's morning!<br /></span><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-57592999510673476132010-08-14T14:50:00.002-05:002010-08-14T15:08:10.330-05:00Clean-up on aisle "Whine"<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">After a few weeks of back-breaking, sweat-inducing work, I have come to the conclusion...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I'm crazy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">We already knew it, but now it is confirmed. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I thought going to work at night would be a cinch, because I'm a night owl. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Turns out that staying up on facebook and watching the tube until 3 am doesn't exactly condition you for throwing boxes of all sizes and weights for hours on end during the night. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And don't even get me started about the whole heat issue.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">There's something to be said for good old fashioned air conditioning.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I said that last night, and Shawn about snorted tea out his nose.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, I had a mini breakdown a couple of nights ago. Years of sleeping for 9-10 hours per night has softened me. No comments.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Now I have to try to function on about 6-7. It ain't working. Meltdowns are inevitable under these circumstances.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I don't eat much, because, when do I eat? I wake up around 2:30. Too late for lunch, and I'm not hungry yet. So I have dinner with the family. Then a snack of cheese and fruit or a lunchable around 2:30 am. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">That's it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So it would be obvious that the weight should just melt right off, wouldn't you think?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Well, you'd be WRONG!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I guess my body is in starvation mode, preserving every drop of precious (note the sarcasm) fat, so I can function during the night.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Whatever.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, back to the breakdown at hand...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I don't know when to do laundry, because I'm basically a walking zombie. I get up, but my brain is not engaging. The laundry is piled up, including the clean laundry, which needs to be folded. The toilet needs scrubbing, I think I could sweep up the hair on my bathroom floor and knit a wig for the dog. (who I accidentally shaved a stripe into the side of... don't ask)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I don't do much around the house anymore. The kids do most of it. It's not fair to them, and they do a kid-level job of it. But I have to be thankful for what I can get these days.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I miss my kids, I miss my bff, who I only have time to text now, I miss my husband, and I miss my dogs. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The end.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-70052300022469134542010-08-04T05:11:00.004-05:002010-08-04T05:26:51.382-05:00Ask, and ye shall receive<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Monday night was hard. So hard, that I had to wonder if I was crazy for taking this job. Frankly, I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing. Tuesday I spent the whole day just exhausted, even after a full "night's" sleep. (quotes, because it was daytime. duh.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I was cranky. I was crabby. I was whiny.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I went to work anyway.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">On my way, I prayed for God to make the night a little easier than the night before. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I think I might have actually asked for it to be a LOT easier, but I don't remember. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">There was much rambling and whining.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I even posted a note on facebook for my friends to pray.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Then I went in to work.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I couldn't get through security.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Somehow, because of a computer glitch, the security gates thought I wasn't scheduled to work.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I called my manager.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">No answer.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I called her cell phone.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Still no answer.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I waited about 15 minutes and tried again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">She answered her cell and told me to sit tight and she'd come get me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I waited.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">In an air conditioned building.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">In a chair.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">For two hours.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">On the clock.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Well, technically, I was only on the clock for an hour and a half of that, but that's not the point.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I asked God for a break. He gave me one that I'd never have thought to ask for.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I cast all my cares upon Him, and he cared FOR me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Because He loves me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And that's how He rolls.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-26333794196831956842010-07-23T05:05:00.004-05:002010-07-23T05:29:32.387-05:00Operation kill 'em with kindness<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Romans 12: 17-21</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">17 Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men.<br /> 18 If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.<br /> 19 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.<br /> 20 Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head.<br /> 21 Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">So tonight I began the operation. I wasn't really sure how it would be received. I turned my body perpendicular to my conveyor belt, and whenever I had a spare second, I reached over to the belt that runs behind where I stand. The packages come down a circular slide onto the belt, where they do not always land with the labels up. It takes a few seconds for each package to be flipped so the lable can be read and the person working the belt can decide where to push them down the next slide. Sometimes, it gets overwhelming because so many packages come at once and you have to flip, read, compute, and sometimes slide them all at the same time. So I decided to try something. I leaned over and flipped every package I could, whenever I could. This way when they reached Kris*, they were already visible. It cut down on his work considerably. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Then I started talking to Chelsea (amazing, tiny, machine girl) about how when she's out tomorrow and all next week, that Kris* and I will have to try to keep up with her job, and how I wasn't sure we were up to the challenge. I made sure to say it cheerfully, including Kris* in the comment, so he'd know I was counting on him. Then I turned on the charm. Whenever we had a quick second, I started talking to him. I asked him if he had another job, how long he'd been there, did he have kids, what was his favorite part of the job, commented that he didn't say much... Just small talk, really. And guess what!?!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Go ahead, guess.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">He's been there for 23 years, he has done quite a few things out there, he doesn't have another job, working the one he has is enough BS for him to take, he sleeps in his other time, he doesn't have any kids, his favorite part of the job is the paycheck, and before the night was over he was helping me and Chelsea pick up packages that had been stacked in the walkway when the belts and slides were overloaded!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Now I have someone else to work on. Somehow I don't think charm will work with this one...</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-74640829330601949042010-07-22T05:16:00.003-05:002010-07-22T05:33:03.674-05:00Zero<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Apparently I have no tolerance for people who don't do their job.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Pay no attention to this plank in my eye, or the laundry needing done, or the dishes piled up....</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Shut up, conscience!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">As I was saying, people who stand around, looking very busy, while the rest of us bust our whatchamacallits, really, REALLY annoy me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Don't worry, I'll tell you how I really feel.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I mean, seriously... There's a young lady who works on the same conveyor belt where I work. She runs all over the place zipping packages down the slide to their appropriate places. She runs up and down the belt, sliding packages hither and yon. She's amazing. She's tiny. She's a machine. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The guy who stands behind her, facing the opposite belt NEVER moves from the place he stands. He NEVER offers a hand when she is lifting an obviously heavy or cumbersome package.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I asked the young woman tonight if there was something wrong with Kris* (no offense, Chris, I pulled this name out of the sky). She tells me that he is kinda weird. He does the same thing every night. He comes in, he works until 2:30 and then leaves. No one questions him. Oh, and his daddy is Phred Smyth's* personal pilot.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Oh, now I get it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">So from now on, I am going to try to engage this man. I am going to give him EVERY opportunity to help out when I am in need of assistance.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It's how I roll.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Meanwhile, we have a certain lady on our team who is very similar, in that she does NO work. I find this absolutely unacceptable. But I don't know what I can possibly do about it. Tonight I tried to give her the opportunity to lift a finger and she told me that I was doing fine.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Whatever. I'm gonna pray for her. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And for me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">That I don't push the wrong person and end up in trouble. ;-)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">*Spellings of actual names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">And also, so that a google search doesn't end me up in trouble with the big guy.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-67100063645578372032010-07-16T05:27:00.004-05:002010-07-16T05:31:13.799-05:00Who needs Jillian?<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">I'm serious when I say that <span style="color:#663366;">Fed</span><span style="color:#ff9900;">Ex</span> kicks tail.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong><em>My</em></strong> tail.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">And my feet, arms, hands, back...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><em>*whine, whine, whine....*</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">You get the idea.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Let the beatings commense.</span><br /><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554153605024512991.post-71317873272438937972010-07-09T17:09:00.004-05:002012-12-19T06:40:58.673-06:00Move over Brad, Denzel, and Johnny Depp!<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">You have nothing on <strong><em>this</em></strong> sexiest man alive!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">Yesterday afternoon, as I was walking down the hall to put away the freshly folded laundry, I heard curious sounds coming from my bedroom. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">I opened the door, and there HE was... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">Shirtless....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">Vacuuming the floor of the room he had cleaned...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">Without even being asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">"What can <strong><em>I</em></strong> do for <em><strong>YOU</strong></em>?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 130%;">Mmmm, Mmmm, MMMM!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 130%;">Now, <strong><em>THAT'S</em></strong> sexy!</span><br />
<img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o10/thegoldens8500/DianeSig150.jpg" />rthlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11067970163824529100noreply@blogger.com3