Oh No, it's 4 am

I'm sleeping so good, the pillow is just right and I'm snuggled under the soft comforter still and warm, cozy and safe, dreaming of all manner of wonderfulness when what happens but a loud, obnoxious noise enters my perfect fuzzy world, jerking me into reality and the cold morning air that surrounds it. Does this sound familiar? It is my reality. My mornings start early when the sun is just a promise and traffic is not yet flourishing on Atlanta hiways. I usually start my day with the thought, I don't want to go to work. I remember those early years when I would call out to momma and say, I don't feel good. Do I have to go to school. Sometimes I would win the lottery and she would say no, go back to sleep. Boy wouldn't I love to hear that today. But alas it is not meant to be. It is the price we pay for a wonderful blessing of a job in the venue of public service. The fire dept starts early. So it's out of bed with one thought on my mind, COFFEE !!!!!!! The elixir of the new day that is waiting for me just downstairs in the Kuric, calling out to me in subliminal form, inviting me to partake. What would mornings be without coffee? Don't answer that because quite honestly I don't wanna ever find out. A few years ago I gave up coffee for Lent and it was not pretty. It made such an impression on my office that my Chief said I was not allowed to do it again. Well not if I wanted to continue in his employ. Evidently it effected my disposition in a negative manner. I find great happiness in the fact that my oldest daughter, a non-coffee drinker is now employed at Starbucks. Doesn't that just make you smile. So now, on my way to work at 5am I can pull into Starbucks and get my favorite blond roast venti with two shots of peppermint and room for cream from my beautiful little girl and say good morning in the process. I had that privilege today and it was wonderful. It absolutely took the sting out of a fall back Monday with a 6 am fire alarm inspection in Norcross scheduled. Coffee, just the word makes me happy. I was not always a morning person. As a matter of fact, those who know me find it a little amazing that I am now, but there it is And here I am. Rolling out of bed, letting the pugs out for their morning romp and enjoying a cup while spending a few precious moments of quiet time in the wee hours. Actually when you think about it, it's pretty amazing. Early mornings are very special. The world is quiet, my house is at peace, I can sit and actually focus on the day without the clutter of daytime activities clouding the subject matter. God is so there on the early morning. I love the time with him. It always seems to fly by so quickly. But my goodness it is precious. Yep, 4 am is a wonderful time. Now that I think about it. Coffee, pugs, quiet time, all in all pretty amazing.

The Pug Life

Pugs and Eliza! If you want to make me smile and give me a lighter step all you have to do us ask me about my dogs. I am a proud pug owner. As you have probably heard it said, "I did not choose the pug life it chose me. It all began over 22 years ago. My husband drove me to what was then, South Lake Mall for an afternoon diversion. At the time I was expecting our first baby (Tori) and pretty much absolutely huge. I gained a total of 30 lbs with my Victoria and at this time it was early summer and I was a short 8 weeks to delivery. We were walking thru the mall and came upon a "pet store". Marks first mistake was letting me walk inside but after that we were committed and it was quite literally the first step in what has been a life long love affair with a breed. We walked into that store and My eyes met with the most wonderful thing I had ever seen in my life. A little, fat, round , sleek, snorting, adorable, black, male, 6 week old pug was waiting for me in a little crate in the store. All I had to do was see the creature and I had to have it. At the time, Mark and I didn't have any money. We were surviving on his salary as a City of Atlanta rookie police officer and saving for our new baby. So how on earth would we afford a pure bred, solid black, little boy pug puppy? I didn't know and quite honestly didn't care. All I knew is that little creature had stolen my heart and my sweet husband knew he could not leave that store without that puppy. So, asking himself what in the world he was doing, Mark signed the papers committing us to a 12 month payment plan for a puppy and I left that day with a precious furry ball of love. That was the original Pugs. Sir Reginald Pugsley. He was with us for 2 years before I had to find him a new home. It was one of the most difficult things I had ever done letting that guy go but we were in a new state with a new home , new job and baby. It was just to much. But a few years later with the opening of a movie staring Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith (Men in Black) my love for The Pug was rekindled. That love was rewarded when once again, my precious husband, who many would view as this tough, hardened soldier, showed up with a surprise for me. He met me at a jobsite with a tiny 6 week old, solid black pug, yep, it's not that I don't like the fawns, I just love those solid black ones. This one came into my life in the fall of 2002 and has been with me ever since. Sir Manford Hercules Pugsley. (He had a way of looking at me that reminded me of a very special, beloved minister from my past so I name him after that minister.) He is an amazing dog. He's made the move from Kentucky to Atlanta. He's lived on a chain the back yard In the 98 degree Georgia summer heat, spent countless hours in a crate while I was in academy and guarded my babies when I had to leave early in the morning before they were awake and never once neglected to greet me with abundant excitement and love. We blessed him in 2006 with a special lady. I knew he needed a friend and so we brought a beautiful, delicate, completely feminine, solid black female pug into our home to keep him company. We named her Eliza after the character from My Fair Lady. She is absolutely wonderful too though a little scared of thunder storms. Back in the day Eliza would sleep in Hanna's room, keeping her company and Barry would snuggle up with pugs. They were the best companions a mom could ever ask for. These precious creatures have so completed my life and home. We have had 2 litters of puppies. One litter I took to work with me and for the first time in the history of Fire Headquarters there were pug puppies racing in the hallways. They have run in Countless races and raised money for everything from school Supplies to The Susan G Komen 3 Day for a Cure. We've hiked, swam, skied and mountain climbed with these amazing dogs. We've dressed Pugs&Eliza up as Santa and Mrs. Clause and run the Jingle Jog and Eliza has won the costume contest twice. They are so amazing. To be honest, I still cannot help myself. They truly own me. These little black furry wonders. Pugs is almost 11 years old now. Pretty old for a Pug dog. But he still wiggles all over like a puppy when I walk in the door from work. Nothing on this planet will ever love me like that puppy does. He is the example of unconditional love. No, I can honestly tell you, I did not choose the Pug life. It chose me.

Hump Day

Hump day

 Over the course of my life I have been thru some tough days.  Days that I thought would never end.  Days proceeded by endless nights of sleeplessness and worry and what some might call terror.  Oh yes, I have walked  some pretty tough roads (God &me) with his footsteps only in the sand because there was no way I would have survived without his carrying me.  

So I am not a stranger to this type of pain.   Hurt like the gut wrenching pain you experience not so much physically but on the emotional level that transfers itself along almost a cellular path to the mind and body.  Like that stomach punch that makes you shake from head to toe and be nauseous at the same time, Removing your appetite and causing a wave of dizziness and headache. 

It's terrible though and made worse by the fact that most of these experiences take place in a sphere where one is totally helpless to do anything.  

So what do you do in these moments? 

What do you do In the times where the world is spinning so fast and there is no respite in sight?   I often find the need to completely exhaust all my options and search extensively for an answer when I am fairly certain I already know it.  It's just that the only answer available is totally unacceptable and excruciating.  

Again I ask, what do you do?  Because there are times when I find myself prostrate on the floor crying and talking to my Heavenly Father, begging for an answer I find palatable.   I often remind my Lord about the widow in the Bible, who petitioned the judge repeatedly, driving him absolutely mad with her request until he finally answers it.   I ask for wisdom and knowledge and beg for favor and/or healing.  

Often times God will lead me to scriptures of praise and promise which I cannot help but hope means my answer is the one I want.  But when I look back on it hours or days later, after the situation has passed and its time to pick of life's pieces and move on, I find mean something totally different.  It's like I am trying to make my will into Gods will because its more convenient and less painful. But it appears the very pain itself may be one of Gods methods of instruction.  Not very appealing at first blush but in hindsight might be the best for me.  Often like the discipline we administer to our children when they require correction.  Or the refusal to let them go out after 12 am for pancakes with friends because nothing good happens after 11 pm.  

It's just the adjustment period that gets me.  I have to move from the event to the shock and then fight.  ( I always have to fight) Then I move into denial and grief and slowly to acceptance then after a time - understanding.  

In every step there is one constant though, my Faith.  It is what sustains me in times of pain.  Funny that when days are bright and sunny I don't rely on God the way I do when the proverbial crap hits the fan.  Why is that?  Definitely something I'm gonna ask when I get there.  

So again I ask, what do you do?  What will you do?  Cause you know it's coming for you just like it will come again for me.  I want to be better prepared for it next time.  I want to put  the ammunition in my arsenal and  when faced with this pain again.  I want to handle it better.  Is that ever gonna be possible?  I don't know.  

If I could leave this planet with successfully completing one thing, it would be to have my Children know how to handle this pain.  How to survive the worst that life has to deal you.  How to take the blow and stand against the waves without collapsing under the pressure.  Where to run when you need help.  Not the help you get from the self discovery portion of Barnes and Noble but the peace and comfort that only God can give in times like this.  

I say this as a veteran of multiple destructive storms and seasons of pain.  There is no other feasible answer. It's just realizing anew that I'm not in control of everything, though I really like to tell myself I am.  It's releasing my hold of control .  Release which is hard for me but is definitely part of the answer.  

So again I return to my previously stated question, what do you do?  When you boil it all down, dealing with pain is dealing with choice.  I guess it's a matter of decision.  Choosing what you do with pain and hurt is crucial.  It's about survival and character.  Actually it's mostly survival.  Let the character portion go.  Take the morality that character evokes and realize that it's pure survival.  And God gets that.  He created us that way.  Basic and raw with a desire to know why.  Almost an anomaly isn't it?

But isn't that what life is?  An anomaly?  

Like the current commercial of the talking camel, walking thru the office asking what day it is, I am finding myself screaming goodnight to HUMP DAY and so very grateful for his providence and grace.  Oh my goodness, the very things I asked him for.   

30 Years, But whose Counting?

Class of 1983.  I remember thinking that date was sooo far away and that it would NEVER come.  I just knew I would be in school forever.  Stockbridge High School, my school, was one of the two High Schools in Henry County at that time.  We had no security guards because school violence was unheard of.  All of us lived in mortal fear of Mr. Pridmore, our principal and none of us wanted to be sent to "in-house" suspension.   But that fear didn't stop us from playing practical jokes and pulling pranks, we went cow tipping, had the ultimate cow patty fights, had pajama days and marched on the football fields at halftime, had senior skip day, held mock weddings and carried around an egg for a week, like it was a baby.  (It was supposed to prepare us for children but let me tell you after having 4, that egg was nothing like having kids.). We had club days, pep rally's, class officers (where their were real winners and losers) and a smoking section on campus.  We had Cheerleaders that actually cheered, a drill team that danced and a marching band that rocked.  We ,were SO Sophisticated,  but had never heard of a computer.  Cell phones had not been invented yet so when you left the house, there was no life line,  if you got into a pinch then you had better have a plan and be able to think on your feet because their was no guarantee a phone would be available to you.  We loved pizza after the games and Tasty Freeze, well need I say more?

So many of these memories flooded back to me this weekend.  It was my 30th High School Reunion. How can it be that 30 years have passed since we sat on that football field in that intense Ga sun and waited for our names to be called?  30 years since Mr. Halyard assigned history homework and 30 years since Mrs. Nalley taught us English.  I look back now with such wonderful memories that I wish I had known at the time just what this era would mean to me.  The precious faces and the amazing dreams.  Oh my goodness, the Dreams! We were 18 and totally invincible.  

It was a wonderful night, my reunion this past week.  Very small but quite condensed and flavorful, like my usual Starbucks selection that calls for a double shot of peppermint.  The faces, smiles and laughter were intoxicating.  Of course the delicious prime rib, pasta and bar weren't bad either.
My sone Duke was my escort and designated driver for the evening. (Mark was in Kentucky, preparing to run the Louisville Ironman and that's another story)  My boy had a rare view into his momma's youth.  He got to meet a few of my childhood friends and was given a picture that very few children ever see of their parents.  He got to see a little bit of the teenager that his momma use to be.  Of course, my juvenile side is no surprise to my kiddos, everything from dunking them in their tubes while rafting "the hooch"  to dancing barefoot in the kitchen to practical April fools day jokes are normal fare at my house.  But I was so proud to show him my small town roots.  

Thank you Vandy, for putting that event together.  I totally get that it was a labor of love.  Also, a huge thank you to those who traveled to be there.  But I guess Im going to offer the biggest thanks goes to our parents, who had the fortunate insight to place us all in that little country high school, with Two halls and multiple bays, a out of the way band room and shop class, a simple home economics room and a typing class,  a gym from the dark ages and a central library where we had both early morning Bible Studies and all day study sessions.   We were priveledged to be there.   In a simpler, beautiful, warmer and more innocent time.
So, here's to the Class of 1983!  Go Tigers!!!

Home Again

Took a drive back to my childhood today.  I grew up just south of Atlanta in a beautiful, 1920's era, two story brick palace.  Actually, it's only around 3000 sq feet but to me it was a palace.  Until I left for College it was the only home I knew.  Momma& Daddybought the place just before I was born and I've loved it all my life.  My room was my sanctuary, my Disney land, my stage and my playhouse.  I danced with more princes, sang for millions of people, took Barbie on camping adventures, burned cakes in my easy bake and practiced cheerleading.  I dressed for my first prom in that room, wrote endless entries in my journals, sewed countless dresses on my sewing machine and played in my mommas wedding dress.  My life was wonderful there.  Every room holds an amazing memory, from the paint on the walls to the basement door that has my brothers and my height measurements.  Yes, there is a growth chart on that door that spans over 40 years.  My children are even measured there.  It is totally priceless.  My heritage is rich in that house.  It sheltered many families in a time of need.  One family in particular was hanging out in the living room (husband reading the paper, wife reading a book and kids watching tv) when a date came to pick me up.  my date, not knowing that they were living with us at that time, asked rather shocked, confused and surprised, "Do the Wieses still live here?"  My folks were just like that.  If they saw a need, they jumped in to try and meet it.  Thus my home was everything from a football training spa (where if a specific player was over his weight limit could be treated to super hot baths, lots of water tonics, a free hair cut and celery dinners.  He might not win any beauty contests but he sure met the weigh in limits for the big game on Saturday.) to Bible study central, from a roller rink in the basement to a pool hustlers hangout, from a crafters best dream to a corkball championship arena.
It was just an amazing place to be.  In a time of global unrest, economic uncertainty and change for the sake of change it was wonderful to just sit in my mommas old bedroom and look around at my life.  The blessing of history and the knowledge of love.  Because its not the walls that made that home it was George and Judy who made it.   It was 2 older brothers and a bratty little sister that slept upstairs It was dozens of cats and dogs, ducks and hamsters.  No, more than that, it was Love.  By the way that is my politically correct way to say to was God.  Because in my home, God is love.  The old tapestry of The Last Supper still hangs in the dining room and a plaque proclaims to all who enter that "As for me and my house, we will serve The Lord".
My trip home today was therpudic, it was comforting and enlightening all at the same time.  Sometimes there is nothing better for you than to breath in that essence of Home.

I love a Rainy Night!

Over the past few days I've spent a lot of time in the rain. In Georgia, we have gotten more than our fair share of water falling from the sky, filling our lakes, streams, back yards, parking lots, basements and occasional vehicle.  Such has been the experience of all Georgians for the past few months.  Also,Georgia has experienced record cool weather.   It's August and we've just broken a record that was set in the late 1800's by not going above 70 degrees.  Crazy but I'm sure it's due to some form of man made global warming or the fact that we just had auditions for American Idol or maybe it's the fact that the braves were on a huge winning streak or that our Mayor wants to build a new stadium for the Falcons.  Crazy things can effect our delicate meteorological balance.   Take your pick but either way, we got us some strangely cool weather and rain.  Which is great if your going for a run but not so great if your wanting to use your hand held musical/electronic device when your running or doing some form of landscaping work, painting your deck or driving in rush hour.  Atlanta drivers don't do so well navigating wet, slippery, bumper to bumper roads.
My time in this abundant anomaly was spent at a soccer tournament, but not in Georgia.  I'm convinced that I brought the liquid "character developing substance"  with me.  Hanna and I headed out late Friday evening, after I got off work and drove to Asheville, SouthCarolina for a weekend of soccer.  We didn't hit any heavy rain during the drive,which was a great blessing cause I was already very tired.
But rain it did over the weekend.  Hanna played in rain soaked cleats and I sat, like the "sedate" soccer Mom that I'm so famous for being, on the sidelines in my hot pink chair holding a huge oversized umbrella, drinking a Starbucks Venti sized coffee with two shots of peppermint and room for cream.  Hot this time but I've been known to drink it iced as well.  All I can tell you about the weekend is that my girl didn't get a single foul and I didn't either.  Guess we are both mellowing with age.
Yep. I have been known to be that momma, yelling on the sidelines, calling my teenage daughter baby girl and  fighting the urge to take out the referee when he made a call that I didn't agree with.  I've been censured and stared at, corrected and asked to move my chair. I say it's those latent Red-neck tendencies coming out.  It sort of runs in the family.  I get it from my daddy.   My husband doesn't want to even stand near me at a game.  I'm not sure why that is.  It just can't be due to embarrassment.  I mean, I've never been asked to leave a game. (For those of you who don't know this story, you'll have to ask him.)
Soccer has been a huge part of our lives.  Crazy for a Georgia girl who grew up eating, sleeping and breathing football.  I spent more time on a football field growing up than almost anywhere else.  When Fall came you could always find me in the stands or on the field.  Cheering on my beloved Stockbridge Tigers or yelling for the Bulldogs.  Vince Dooley was a hero of mine and of course Uga, the Bulldog mascot stole my heart.  We are talking Hershal Walker days.
But football has been replaced in my life and although I still keep up with the Falcons and Packers,  soccer is the sport of the day.  (Barry is trying his best to throw cross country and basketball  in the mix  but we are slow to jump.)  But now, Soccer is upon us and this weekend was the first of a series of games we are going to be attending.
And attend we did.  Nothing, absolutely nothing can replace this tine with my girl though.  I'm able to enjoy this season like none before and we are going to do it.  The lessons learned are vast and run deep.  The "team" mentality as well as personal responsibility are just two of the many things that my kids have learned thru this sport.  How to work for as well as fight for what you want.  How to earn a position and to communicate effectively.  How to persevere and give your all and when you have nothing left keep going.  How to deal with pain and with unreasonable people,  how to play on when those around you are loosing their heads,  how to address failure and more importantly, how to be a winner.   So many lessons and not just an education for the children.  I've learned so much and I am so grateful.  So, chalk one up for an education in the rain.

The First of the Lasts, Perspective

Monday morning, I'm curled up with my extra strong coffee and planning my last day off.  I already feel like its half over and it's only 730 am.  But then again, it started early.
3:30:  turned off breakfast casserole in croc pot
5:15:  Got the recruit up and out the door and turned on the coffee, discovered we had an extra kid in the house when I accidently woke him up too.  then went back to bed.
( I decided to let Mark persue the first day of school dance with the kids).
6:45:  poured a cup of coffee and did dishes.
7:00.:  attempted to take 1st day of school photos for the last time ( it's my Twins Senior yr.).
Senior year,  how do I even begin to process that little tidbit.
My babies are Seniors!  Hummmmm. Bittersweet.  It's been a long adventurous journey that started  with my oldest over 15 years ago and has continued annually since.  Now the parade of the lasts begins and I plan on embracing every one of them.
So first day of school photos were taken and the truck pulled out of the driveway with Barry and Hanna looking absolutely adorable in their uniforms and thrilled to be driving themselves to school.
I returned to the kitchen and finished cleaning up leftover breakfast (I created a crockpot hash brown experiment in yumminess that was a huge hit ) getting ready for the remainder of the morning and played with the pugs (who were thrilled to be inside and lounging on their pillows instead of outside in the sun, chilling on the deck.)
Days like this are few and far between. Ones that mark milestones that should not be but often are forgotten.  I don't want to do that anymore.
I have a few traditions that have stood for the past 15 years that have only been altered once during that time.  The year I was a recruit,  I missed that first day of school.  My brother and his wife were amazing replacements but I still felt the sting of loss.  It was one of the first real zingers that let me know what the life of a working momma was like.
That is what I've been for the last 11 years, a working mom.  Although I've missed a lot of wonderful moments during that time, it was a necessary evil that supported my family and made the proverbial ends meet.  But needless to say, I have almost always been there that first day.
The rule of thumb is a good breakfast, lunches made and ready, photos to commentate the day and a clean house filled with the aroma of fresh baked cookies when they come home.
Today I am proud to say was no different, except my precious momma was here with me to greet Bear when he walked in the door.  My girl had headed to Starbucks to meet with a friend.  Yep, life is changing.  And I think I am ready for that, because with each last I celebrate with my hubby and the kids, I am prepping for some firsts.  And believe me, I am ready for some firsts.  So let the Senior year commence.

Sports Physicals and Banana Pudding Pie

It's just been that kind of week.  The one that you are glad when it's over.  Trying to be thankful and see the glass half full has been something I've always attempted but this week it was a lesson in futility.  Or at least that is what it seemed until today.  Today- glorious Friday,  the start of my loooong weekend (4 days as sleep) and an brilliantly sunny day.

The week doesn't bode anymore air time except to say "life is sometimes only about survival".  I survived.  

Moving forward now, today I had the distinct priveledge of taking Barry and Hanna to their last High School sports physical.  Normally we are behind the 8 ball having to do this in less than 24 hours or they cant play in their first game at school but not this year, momma planned ahead and remembered to schedule it for the last Friday of Summer.  Go Mom!  well anyway, today's visit also boasted No co-pay which even made it better.
Taking these two to the Dr. brings back those early days when as little babies (like 18 to 24 months) They would loose their minds once we drove onto the Gene Snyder freeway in Kentucky because they knew they were on their way to the dr.  They'll tell you now, "mom use to lie to us and tell us we werent going to the Dr but to Chucky Cheese ".   Hey, Im not proud, You would not believe how loud and insane they were.   It was horrible.  Yep, I lied to my kids and I would do it again.  So there, to all you non lying I would never tell my kids theres a Santa Clause or Easter Bunny or that your pregnant on April Fools Day parents.  Crying toddlers are the worst and like I told them today, they were gonna have to have therapy anyway, I just gave em something to talk about.    

Today they heard a youngun crying at the dr 's office and laughed.  I said, that's what you guys use to sound like.  The man who checked us in was listening to us, (its hard not to because we can be rather loud ) and said "sometimes they still do".    Love those moments.
We made our way back to the exam area where they were weighed (always a blast), height measured and given their eye sight and hearing tests.  Barry successfully memorized the eye chart to pass yet another year. As It turns out, Hanna has grown 1/2 an inch and Barry has shrunk 1/2 an inch.  I think the nurse was generous with Hanna and not so much with Bear.  But she evened thecscore when she asked Hanna about her workouts.   Do you exercise?  Really?  how often? Really, How long?  Oh, ok. Then to Barry she said, "you obviously work out".  With my non-competitive twins and their sweet, gentle nature You can imagine the comments that brought out.  

It was following a check of their medical history that it was discovered they needed some booster vaccinations.  11 between the 2 of them to be exact.  Mother of the year strikes again.  It's another one of those therapy opportunities and well, I have some of the most entertaining videos from the shots.  Bear had 5 and Hanna 6.  It was both tragic and hysterical depending on which side of the needle you were on.  

Their were Mickey Mouse band aides, zinging insults, airborn Dr. Instruments and scrunched up faces.  a good time was had by all.
Tori surprised us in the waiting room and joined us for lunch.  God knows we love us some yummy  dinner rolls at OCharlies.  
We bought school supplies and retold the best lines from comedy centrals last big night.  Trying not to offend any other customers along the way.  FUN FUN FUN. 

After a day with my 16 yr old twins, laughing and spending their daddy's money, the dregs of my angst filled week were fading away.  

Speaking of their Daddy, he has had a particularly difficult week as well.  Working in the super damp rain soaked, humidity ladden Georgia countryside, managing his crews, staying on top of the activities of his 4 children while dealing with a hot flashing wife, Paying for crowns, root canals, flooded basements, new school uniforms and vehicle mishaps all bring out their own stressors.  Stresses that even his 5am workouts dont help.  He needed pie.  Not just any pie but something amazing and special.  So like Will Smith who used pie for all that ails you in Men in Black, I made my man a Banana Pudding Pie.  Just seemed like the thing to do.  It was the perfect end to a beautiful sunny day and filled his hardworking mans belly thus creating that happiness that all good southern women know how to both exploit and employ.  When in doubt, feed em.  

So now, my babies are prepping for their last first day of school, my hubby is sleeping in a food
enduced coma and all is right with the world.
Yep, I will say it again. Life is sometimes all about survival, getting thru the tough stuff so you can enjoy those emerald moments hiding throughout.  Moments like today! 

Lets discuss root canals

I have spent the past weekend celebrating the joys of being with my daughters in the beautiful North Ga. mountains and popping pain killers every 4-6 hours for what turns out to have been a very infected tooth.  It was not exactly a weekend in paradise but my girls and I got to do some major relaxing and take part in some serious girl time.  But today is a different story.
I pulled myself out of bed this morning at the usual time (430 am) wishing I could pop another pain pill but knowing the county takes a very dim view of such things.  So, I opted out of my morning coffee due to temperature sensitivity and driving into Duluth for a 6 am fir alarm test.  Even before I got there I knew today was going to be a challenge.  The throbbing in my mouth felt akin to having tacks stuck into the roof of my mouth.  So not a good thing.
By 8 am I was scheduling the appt. for what was to be a root canal.  So now to the true reason for my rant today.  Everyone is talking about health care reform.  How our health care insurance is so terrible in this country. I cannot tell you the last time I heard someone go off on dental insurance.  Well get ready folks cause here I go,
I pay more than double for dental insurance what I pay for medical insurance,  it is also what I am told is one of the best policies on the market yet still is grossly inadequate for a families needs and more specifically for my needs.  Today, I had to pay $HUGE$ out of pocket for the procedure done.  No alternative payment plan was available.  Because I had already used my allotted amount for the year due to other unforeseen dental emergencies I was up the creek.
Now I'm very very blessed to be able to have the work done (and it put a massive dent I our savings that I'm still upset about. Feeling guilty fir spending that kind of money on myself.   but hear me folks, I cannot be the only one who has felt this way. Who has put off and absolutely refused to have the dental care needed due to cost.  If I had been able to work and not live on pain meds I would have.
I know people everywhere are doing this.   While I was in the drs office today I heard the receptionist say at least 2 times to potential customers what the cost would be and that insurance was not covering Most if it. Then she said she completely understood and wished the client well.There was to be no surgery.   That is absolutely unacceptable.  But where is the discussion on this issue,  I not heard it.
My own parents did the same thing because of the cost of dental care.  We laughed about it at the time but my daddy walked around with a white square of gum in his mouth pretending it ws a tooth.  With this huge push for healthy living, isn't it true that oral health is very indicative of total body health?  I just wanted o put something out there for discussion.  What is the answer?  Iknow one thing, it should not be this hard or expensive.
For us it was hitting the savings and hoping for the best.  Also, being thankful that there was a little surplus to call on.
So now, hours later and 2 more pain killers in I hope we have finally cured the pain.  But just the physical pain,  the bank account will hurt for a little longer.  Learning the value of a dollar,  one root canal at a time.

From Trails End Cabin. Ellijay, Ga

It's a beautiful Sunday morning in Ellijay, Ga.   Where is Ellijay, you may be asking.  That would not surprise me because even though I'm from Ga, I don't recall ever having been here before.  It's one of those quaint little towns with sidewalk vendors and little restaurants that are still family owned and operated.  Antique stores and hand made items are the consumable items of choice and the girls and I did our best to support the local economy.
Our adventure in this little known point of North Ga mountain beauty did not just happen, it was the result of a unfortunate cancellation of a bridesmaids outing for Tori and her College roommate.  
Tori has the honor of being in another wedding this next month and the bride, her college roommate, had the disappointing  experience of having her big weekend with the girls cancelled last minute.  When Tori found out she called me and we were able to reserve this beautiful cabin in no time at all.
Go Sarah!  It belongs to an old girlfriend of mine.
So here we are. The sun is now streaming down on my secluded spot on the 2nd floor porch, just off my bedroom in the loft. Even my abscessed tooth, for which hydrocodone is now standard issue, is just slightly more tolerable at this vantage point.   It turned out to be a No male evening with Mark and the boys staying home.
The rest of the bridal party will arrive today probably just as I am headed out.  Work calls me for tomorrow.
But for now, I'm finishing up a cup of vanilla flavored yumminess caffination and contemplating a walk on the trails.  Is it coincidence that "say Yes to the Dress" is the first thing that my girls turn on?