* Excuse Me, Are You Whistler's Mother?

Yesterday I received some very troubling news. My co-worker returned from the teachers' workroom with our School Day Pictures. Oh, my gosh! I thought she had gotten my packet mixed up with somebody else.

Last year, for the first time in my school career, I did not have my pictures made. I wondered what would happen if I didn't, but since they renewed my contract even without the requisite portrait, I thought I had really pulled a fast one. This year, I had lost 5 pounds, so I felt better about having my likeness snapped. I must have been out of my mind. When I looked at the proof on the front of the package, that was bad enough, but when I pulled out the full color rendition, I almost hit the floor. Who on earth is that creepy little old lady?! She was kind of "hunkered" down and looked like someone had come up behind her and scared the liver out of her.

It was totally the photographer's fault. He was in a hurry and he didn't give me the proper time to position myself correctly. As you age, you learn to present your best "face forward", but it requires a certain amount of contortion. Head must be held high, but not high enough for double chin to be prominent. A tilt of the head sometimes disguises certain features and makes earrings gently sway. Smile, but not too widely....old lips might disappear from view. Shoulders up (but not if wearing shoulder pads) you look like the team fullback. Never do a full front face shot unless you are prepared for the old bulldog look.

My contorting had just gotten into full swing, when "flash" it was over.
"Next," the quick on the trigger photog shouted.
"What? I was not quite ready, " I muttered.
"Oh, look, it's a great picture," he replied, "next person come on."
I said, "Look, I wasn't ready."
I know what he was thinking, "Lady, you wouldn't be ready if Whistler was painting a picture instead of me using this digital camera."

So I aimlessly walked back to the library. I was thinking maybe it wouldn't be too bad, until yesterday when I came face to face with reality. They have do overs for everything else in the world, wonder if they'll let me in to try again on Make Up picture day?

We Are Middle Class America!!

I had something between a fender bender and a wreck Monday afternoon. I am still too upset by the entire incident (and hubby's reaction to it) to say much about it here, but I do want to say something positive about the happening. Because of the "wreck" we had to leave our house very early this morning to take the car to the shop for repairs. When I walked out of the house it was just barely light around 6:30 a.m. By the time I reached the highway, I was amazed at all the traffic! Every small subdivision had cars lined up at their entrance to try to merge into the flow.

Lights were on in almost every home and it occurred to me that all these people were just plain, middle class Americans, rising early to make it to work by 7:00 a.m. They were up early (and probably worked late) to provide shelter, food and clothing for their families. I was very proud to be among them even though we were moving slowly. I thought how fortunate we all were to even have jobs...they might not be the most white collar, but by George, we were all in it together and we were all trying to do our darnest to get there on time.

My hat's off to my fellow Rankin Countians (that's in Mississippi...United States of America) who work hard, help others and love much!! I am happy to be counted as a middle class American!

Tip of the Week: Cricut's New Home

To the left you see the poor, downtrodden kitchen cart. Above you see what 3 hours, a little spray paint, stain, sandpaper and elbow grease produces! A home for my new Cricut machine!

This was just an old castaway that we were going to throw away. We unearthed it while cleaning out hubby's mom's house. I said, "Wait just a minute! Let me measure this little gem."

To which he replied, "Oh, please, don't drag that ugly thing home." He just hasn't learned, there are NO ugly things...just ducklings waiting to morph into swans!

Now I have the exact amount of space on top to place the revered 24 " Cricut Expression machine and two shelves on which to store my vinyl and paper boxes. The whole thing is on rollers so I can roll it out of the way when not in use!

Tip of the Week: See beyond the present to what COULD be!!

* Chicken Daddy's Love of All Things Footballish

Football is in full swing! Being married to a football coach is a dangerous position to be in, at best. You know, they are happy one weekend, morose the next. Not only do we have to worry about his team's wins and losses, but we certainly MUST agonize over the defeats of favorite coaches' teams, friends' teams, pee wee teams and universities all over the U.S. Then, of course, there are the NFL teams. He has former players on NFL teams, he has University and NFL coaches he's known, admired and even worked with. So it is imperative to sit and watch as they struggle and/or are victorious.


He always likes to remind me that Alabama coach Nick Saban once watched a film in my classroom; that Joe Paterno helped him get his suitcases into the car at coaching clinic at MS. State. Once, he brought a University coach to our home to eat. (I was at work and had NO idea this event was taking place.) My child, who was about 9 at the time, called to tell me the good news. He, Chicken Daddy and Coach X were eating hotdogs and potato chips on paperplates for lunch..."Oh, where are you?" I inquired. "Sitting at our table, in OUR dining room," he excitedly exclaimed. Not to worry, he put a clean hand towel out in the bathroom...when I left for work that morning, the house looked like a bomb had been detonated in the kitchen and its aftermath had spread outward to all rooms. I am quite sure the coach was duly impressed by my housekeeping prowess.


I heard Chick D on the phone with a former player the other night discussing a game that was played 31 years ago! He remembered every detail that happened that fateful evening and they were ranting as though they had just had the national championship ripped out of their oh so close grasp!!


Point of this post is a funny story that happened to us when we were newly married. In those days I tried to disguise my dislike of all things footballish. To impress him, I even sat in the rain at a MS State game...and yes, I received my marriage proposal at the Liberty Bowl in Memphis...so I should have seen the Mack truck that was heading my way.


HE wanted to go to a State game that was being played in Jackson and I reluctantly agreed (still pretending, you know). When we got there he didn't like where we were seated...couldn't see well enough. I was perfectly satisfied, I could see what every lady in the stands had on...what more could you ask for? Well, during the middle of the second quarter, he spotted some empty seats in the reserved section. If the holders of the seats were coming, they'd be here by now..."Let's move there." Oh, no...I don't like productions...let's just remain where we were...I was quite happy. "No, come on, we are moving down there where we can see," he ordered. ("Look, I am not one of your players, I don't want to move, " I responded quietly.)


Long story, short...we moved. Ok, it wasn't so bad, we really did have better seats and we looked like we had season tickets....until.....you see this coming, don't you? I looked up to see a very stern Highway Patrolman staring down at us....."Sir," he said, "you will have to move." I was mortified, being asked to move from your unpaid for seats in the reserved section in front of thousands of people. " Ok, ok we are going, but why? Nobody's in these seats," Chicken Daddy questioned....the Patrolman countered, "Not at the moment, sir, because YOU are in them and Governor Allain would like to see the game in his reserved seat." We were certainly delighted to rise and give the GOVERNOR his seats. Need I say more?

Keep, Sell or Donate

For those of you who don't know, we've been working every weekend for the past few months emptying a relative's house of 55 yrs. of living in the same place. Today was the last day. Everyone was out of the house except me, and I was taking a little break. As I stood there and looked around at the empty rooms several thoughts occurred to me.

We spend so much of our lives "acquiring." I love looking for items to fit into my "collections." I poke around flea markets, garage sales and antique stores...always on the lookout for something else...some other possession. How many hours have I wasted searching for that illusive something and as soon as I find it...I move on to searching for some other possession, never satisfied with what I just found.

Today we sold the last of possessions that have been around for a very long while. As I removed bric a brac from shelves and tables, I thought about how in the not so distant future, my own child and his children will have to sift through ALL my stuff and decide what to Keep, Sell or Donate. I felt really sorry for them at that moment because even though I don't keep lots of old papers and jars and cans, I DO keep tons of other stuff. There's nothing of great value really, but they are my memories. As we ended the process of throwing this person's stuff away, it hit me, this was her life, her precious memories, her possessions. Everyone of those things meant something to her and now they will be divided and disbursed throughout our family, never to be under one roof again.

On one hand, it was a relief to have the job done, but on the other, it was the shredding of someone's home and their way of life. I know you can't "take it with you" and I know exactly what the Scripture teaches about possessions (and I agree wholeheartedly), but this experience has given me a new perspective of the way I live. I think I am going to do my family a great big favor and begin the purging now. I've known others who have started the process early and I never really understood it until the last few years. It's really a kindness to those left with the task. For the past few years I haven't felt that "wanderlust" feeling that I used to feel, and I really am becoming fully satisfied with the things with which I have been blessed. What a pity that it took me this long to draw these conclusions. I hope you will learn from a "slow learner", me.