October, October, March to the Dull and Sober...

It's October 3rd. When did that happen?

Here I was hoping, praying, and wishing for October to hurry up and get here. Now we're three days into October and I'm hoping, praying, and wishing that October will slow down! I can't make up my flipping mind!

Today it's gloriously cool and rainy. I'm only happy when it rains.

No seriously, I'm a pluviophile.

I'm not happy only when it rains, I actually do not like going out in the rain. I prefer rain exactly like the above gif, through a window.

(This is what it looks like at the cottage,  candle burning in front of a rainy window.)

I love Fall and Winter and aspects of Spring. I hate Summer. If Summer were 70 degrees, I could deal with that. People ask me why I'm so down on Summer. The main reasons consist of the heat and the insects.

On Monday, I had to keep the car to take my mother-in-law to an eye appointment. Before I continue, I must share a disclaimer. The following story contains a trigger warning for those of you who hate insects. The story includes an inbred mutant radioactive spider. If you cannot handle this, skip to page twenty-two. (There are not really twenty-two pages in this story. I could easily post a twenty-two page blog, but I digress...)

I came home from taking Doug to work. I had stopped along the way to purchase some coffee, so it was around 8:30 AM. I made my trek on the little walkway to the cottage, (it's hidden in the back) and as I stepped onto the porch, I saw an inbred mutant radioactive spider. No I'm not exaggerating!

I want everyone to stop reading and look at your middle finger. DO NOT FLIP YOURSELF OFF, that's not what I'm going for! I'm using this a visual. The point of this exercise is that this spider's body was as long as my middle finger and almost as wide. Can you imagine how freaky that looks now? Its legs were huge! It resembled a granddaddy long legs. The legs were about as thick as cherry stems, and it was sitting on the back of a folding chair that goes with our outdoor table set that had been folded up and leaned up against the side of the cottage. (I'm freaking out just typing this.)  

Thankfully, I had a pair of floppies out on the porch. I launched one at the inbred mutant radioactive spider, hoping to knock it off, thus causing it to run away. No such luck. The thing jumped at me. I shrieked. I nearly fell off of the porch as I tried to run away and ripped up my heel on the steps as I did. It hurt! I stood as far back as I could, since this thing could jump like a professional basketball player slam dunking the ball. He was quite athletic if I do say so myself.

Now, I had a serious predicament. How was I going to safely get into the cottage? I knew it wasn't going to be easy, not with that huge inbred mutant radioactive spider standing in my way, right in front of the steps! If this thing hadn't jumped to my eye level, I would have simply stepped on it and ground my shoe into the pavement repeatedly until the creature was no longer recognizable.

I picked up my other shoe and threw it at the thing, blocking his path, and with trembling hands and great panic, I whipped around the left side of the porch, unlocked the door, and entered the cottage. Unfortunately, the Moo Bear Cat ran outside. Cats are supposed to be the world's best hunters, but they're the laziest creatures. Moo Bear didn't even pay the inbred mutant radioactive spider no mind as he flopped about on the porch, purring and chittering, happy to be outside. I had to scoop him up, all the while hoping this inbred mutant radioactive creature wouldn't jump at me, and I ran inside. I shut and locked the door, as if the spider were going to stand up, turn the knob, and walk inside. I stared at him from the little windows in the door, and he just stood there, glaring at me, biding his time for when I next walked out, which would take place in exactly forty-five minutes from that moment.

I had to change clothes (I had showered the night before. I usually shower in the morning, but her appointment was too early for me to do this.) I sat down and played around on the internet via my Kindle Fire HD and desperately tried to calm down. I was still shaking. I only hoped that inbred mutant radioactive spider would find someone else to scare so he would leave. I donned my shoes, grabbed one of the coffees I had purchased, and headed for the door. I peeked out the window, and IT. WAS. STILL. THERE! Again, I was in this predicament. How was I going to exit the cottage and get out to the car to leave? Oh this spider was GOOD! I knew his plan was to wait me out!

I quickly assessed the situation. I could use the back door. Yes, that's what I'll do! I ran to the back door. Oh bugger, I would have to move the bags of laundry. We had recently organized our closet, and so there are bags of clothes that I have sorted through and have to wash, but I'm a workaholic writer who is about to publish a book at the end of the month and I simply haven't had time! The back door exit was not going to suffice. I went back to the front door and stared outside at the creature. I had hoped that my race to the back door would have left this spider curious, and perhaps it would strategize waiting at the back door to make its move when I stepped out, but no, it was still sitting there, plotting, waiting for me to make my move. I had no choice but to go outside.

I grabbed the spray bottle that we keep handy for naughty kitties, aimed it at Moo Bear, because I had no time for his antics. I had seconds to step out, dive off of the left side of the porch, and quickly bolt down the walk and to the car. Could I do it? Or would I meet my demise?

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK, SAME BAT TIME, SAME BAT CHANNEL...

I'm only kidding! I'm not the type of person to leave you with the thought of the main character precariously perched on the ledge of a building with a gun pointed at him or her. I'm not that mean!

I stepped outside, one eye on Moo Bear and the other on the spider. I never allowed my eyes to leave the inbred mutant radioactive spider as I pulled the door closed behind me and tiptoed to the left side (my right as I'm facing the road now) of the porch. I dashed off and took off for the walk, never looking back! YES! I MADE IT! I ESCAPED THE EVIL INBRED MUTANT RADIOACTIVE SPIDER! The only bad news was that I couldn't go back home now.

I calmed down now that I was far, far away from my captor. I drove to mother-in-law's house in record time, and we got to her appointment. My mother-in-law said that she was going to be there forever and that I should go out and entertain myself. I was happy to sit there and play on my Kindle since the doctor's office had WIFI. Of course, their WIFI was down, because it was Monday, and everything sucks on Monday. I was stuck using my piece of crap phone that may or may not work depending on the weather and whether or not it's the sixth Monday of the fourteenth month.

The worst thing about this eye doctor's establishment is the fact that they only play the news on television. I avoid the news like the plague. I depend on my husband to tell me the important stories, because when I watch the news, one of the top stories is about child or animal abuse, and I become quite inconsolable. I don't have time to sob uncontrollably for three hours, so I just don't watch the news. Unfortunately, the news is forced upon me in nearly every medical establishment to which I must go or take my mother-in-law.

The news right now...I don't want to hear it, especially concerning Ebola. I won't share my opinion on any of that subject matter. I'm just not in the mood to debate about this crisis, and I simply don't have time to deal with the drama that would surround a debate about it.

Even though this is my blog, the last time I shared my opinion about the president, I was verbally assaulted by people who disagreed with me. I don't have time for that drama, therefore, I just choose to keep my mouth shut concerning politics, the president, and my thoughts and beliefs. It's not good to be honest in today's society. People will label you as a hater, a racist, or whatever they can think of with which to label a person who shares their honest opinion simply because your thoughts and beliefs on certain subject matter is different from their thoughts and beliefs. People can be so judgemental, and truth be told, they don't even really know the person they're judging. We're all guilty of judging others. I'm not the least bit innocent.

Let me give you an example. I posted a post almost two years ago. I won't go into what it said. Some of you may remember it, but I got so many hateful comments and messages because of the post, so I had to take the post off of the blog. I still have it, but it can't be viewed any longer. Basically because I'm not a fan of the president, I have been called a racist. My opinion had absolutely nothing to do with the colour of the president's skin or his ethnic background, but according to some of his supporters who apparently take the time to read my blog (thanks for reading, by the way), it obviously had to be my main reason for my lack of support. (So I found out two years ago that I'm a racist. I wish I had known so I could have sought some professional help for that.) *smh*

Here I am trapped in the waiting area of an eye doctor's office with no WIFI and being inundated by stories of stupidity, Ebola, celebrity car accidents, and other rubbish that the news anchors were blathering on about, and the worst part of it was that it repeated! It was like the song that never ends!

The last time I was there, the news woman blathered on about how these two children walking home with their mother were hit by a car, because a driver lost control or he/she was drunk. It was sad! And they kept showing the video repeatedly! And the waiting room was full, so I was positioned where the television was within my line of sight! I kept having to see and hear these two girls getting run over! Thankfully, both children were fine, but it was awful! Why do people watch that stuff? Sure, I loved watching horror films when I was younger, but they're fictional. Watching these elementary school aged girls get ran down was not a scene in a horror movie, IT REALLY HAPPENED!

Thankfully, my mother-in-law wasn't there as long as she expected to be, and I was able to get the heck out of there before I saw the coverage of J-Lo and Leah Remini's fender bender for the fifth time. (That made national news? Really?)

After the appointment, my mother-in-law and I went to the mall. I had to pick up some wallflowers from Bath and Body Works, and pick up my free item with my coupon to boot. (They have the best coupons.) My mother-in-law also gets their coupons and likes to shop there as well. 

We entered through the book store. It's dangerous for me to go into a book store. I come out with tons of books that I currently don't have time to read. My main reason for the entrance into the book store was that the book store has a loo, and as I previously mentioned, I have to piddle upwards of twenty times per day (give or take), which is entirely too much. We walked inside, went to the little corridor where the loo was located, and there was a barrier and the yellow sign, like caution tape, with the words that indicated that the loo was closed. WHY?!? I lost my cherub-like demeanor, because now it was mile hike through Sears to the nearest loo! At least I would be getting my exercise since my career involves sitting on my bum all the ruddy day.

As my mother-in-law and I hiked twelve miles, up hill, both ways to the loo in Sears, we passed by some clearance racks. I immediately knew it was a marketing ploy, because Sears had made a deal with Books-A-Million. Sears knew that people would need the loo, so they paid Books-A-Million to close their loo, which would then cause people to come to Sears, use their loo, and notice the clearance racks, And then certain people would spend $25 on clothes that they didn't really need when they were planning on getting one item, but upon taking their selections to the dressing room, they found out that all of the items fit, and they did a happy dance because the Capri pants were a size five. I wouldn't know anything about that. Nothing at all...

After being tricked into purchasing some items off of the clearance rack, thanks to Sears and their evil scheme with Books-A-Million, my mother-in-law and I went to Bath and Body Works, the foundation of our reason for coming to the mall in the first place. And I got what I came for. And we went back to the evil book store, and we got caffeinated at the coffee vendor in the book store. And we went to grab lunch and take it back to her place, where I stayed, because I couldn't go home. That inbred mutant radioactive spider would be waiting, and I'm sure it had an even better plan this time.

Epilogue: When Doug and I got home that night, only the lower half of the inbred mutant radioactive spider's body remained. I told Doug I would like to thank whoever killed it, and his response was, "I doubt that. The creature that killed it was probably much bigger and scarier looking than it." THANKS, HONEY!

Cheers...

The Tribute.

I realized that yesterday has marked a year and six days since my last blog post. It looks like I have a lot of catching up to do. Rather than rehash 2013 entirely, I am going to discuss the important events and happenings in my life. Before I continue, I would like to warn my readers that this post may be a downer.

November of 2013 was when my life changed. I lost two people unexpectedly. I heard about both of them on Facebook. (As a matter of fact, I have heard about the last five people who have passed on via Facebook.) This post is a tribute to honor them, as well as one other person dear to me who passed away earlier this year. You have been warned, so with tissues on deck, I give to you this tribute.

The first loved one I'm going to talk about is my sixteen and 1/2 month old godson.

This is one of the last pictures of Avery that my friend shared.

Avery passed away unexpectedly on November 4th, 2013. 

I was lying in the tub. My husband was sitting there with me. He was perusing Facebook while I indulged in a bubble bath and a Stephen King novel. He nearly dropped the device he was using to look around on Facebook when he saw that our friend of sixteen years, Carrie posted that she lost her little boy. Avery had been experiencing some problems that were being looked into at the time by his pediatrician, but none of us ever thought there was something serious enough to cause us to lose him. My husband showed me the picture and for a good thirty seconds, I couldn't speak, much less breathe. I wasn't even sure what to say to my close friend of sixteen years. Words absolutely failed me. I just stared at the status message and the picture she had shared. Doug managed to share some words of comfort in a comment to her and her family, but it took me a few hours before I could even compose myself to respond. I was completely gobsmacked.

The next day, Carrie rang me to let me know what happened and to discuss the arrangements and to share what happened. It turns out that Avery had a stretched heart. None of us had any idea. (I'm not going to share my friend's last moment with her son, because I will become too inconsolable to continue.) I still felt like I was at a loss for words as we spoke. 

November 6th came, sometime around ten o'clock, I took a break from writing and got on Facebook. That's when I saw the status message about my friend, Aimee. It was posted by her fiance, and said that she passed away sometime in her sleep. I had a different reaction to the news of her passing than I did with Avery's. With him, I was so shocked that I couldn't react, but with her, I freaked out and yelled for Doug.

My husband charged into the room, expecting me to tell him something along the lines of, "I need your help. I feel like I'm going to pass out," or "I'm having a migraine." Instead, I just simply pointed at my mini laptop's screen. He read it and he was shocked.

I think the reason I freaked out was because Aimee was nearly two years younger than me at the time, and as far as I knew, she was in better health than I am. (I have enough health problems for three people, and to be completely honest, the fact that I somehow manage a career and a life is beyond me, and has to be nothing short of miraculous.) Doug did his best to console me.

On Thursday, Doug decided to get me out of the house. We went to dinner at Ruby Tuesday. As we were eating, my friend's friend Melonee (now my friend) rang me and asked if I would say a few words at Avery's service on Friday. I accepted, but I still felt like I was at a loss for words. When we got home, I spent the rest of the evening researching scriptures to share in an attempt to give the family some comfort. I knew that speaking at Avery's funeral was going to be one of the hardest things I would ever do. I also rang my friend, Jodi, who was nice enough to agree to accompany me on the two hour drive to the funeral home, because Doug couldn't take off work on such short notice. I know I couldn't have handled the drive without Jodi. I am so thankful she was able to go.

On Friday, I took my husband to work, kissed him goodbye, returned to the cottage, reviewed the things I had written down and composed a brief speech to share at the service. It came to me all at once. I got ready, actually put on a dress and the new scarf I had purchased for Avery's funeral, (Carrie had asked for everyone to wear something in a specific green, which was Avery's favorite color) and was out the door on time to pick up Jodi, who was ready when I arrived there. And we were off.

I'm sure that many of you remember me sharing my horrible experiences with GPS. (I don't call it a GP-YES, I call it a GP-NO.) I brought the paper with the address and the directions, but it's not like I could drive and read it at the same time, so I put it into the GP-NO. We were going to be surrounded by cellullar towers. What could possibly go wrong? I turned the volume on my phone up and I listened, and I followed every direction the GP-NO told me. Then, it stopped talking. Little did I know, I lost signal and it had shut itself off. So I had driven so many miles in the wrong direction. I turned around when I realized it wasn't working, and I went into the city, and I asked for directions. I threw my piece of crap phone into my purse and vowed never to use the GP-NO again. Back onto the road, and aimed in the right direction, several cars refused to let me over, so we had to miss the exit and go around in a circle AGAIN until we could finally take the exit. We were an hour late arriving, so we totally missed all but five minutes of the visitation. We had to stop and ask directions to the funeral home, and thankfully I found a competent person who knew where I was trying to go, and she told me how to get there. FINALLY. I parked, Jodi and I got out, and we entered the funeral home. 

I have been to many funerals in my thirty-something years of life. I have never cried at a funeral. I usually remain stoic, and then Sobfest (fill in the numerical year) happens when I'm in the privacy of my own home. This was not the case. I had never ever been to the funeral of a toddler before. I was not prepared for how it was going to affect me. I'm a fairly strong person. I can keep my emotions in check 99.9% of the time, but upon seeing a tiny casket with a beautiful chubby little toddler boy inside who simply looked like he was sleeping, I don't know anyone who could survive that. My friend Jodi had only met Avery once, and she cried. She couldn't go up to the front and look at him, It was too much for her. I barely made it with Carrie's help to the front. She said, "you can touch him." At that point, I became a mess. I broke down and said, "I really don't think I can." I pulled myself together, and went back to sit with Jodi until it was time for the service to begin. I went and sat next to Melonee in the second row since I would be the first one to go up and speak.

Songs that Avery loved began playing from the speakers. As I looked around, I took in my surroundings. They had a collage of pictures on a stand in the front, a quilt, a wreath, and a few floral arrangements. I listened as the pastor shared a brief introduction and prayed. Then, it came my turn to speak. I will never forget what I said as long as I live.

I stepped up onto the platform, and I opened my notes. I didn't need them, but I used them as a crutch, and something to focus on if I got too choked up. I took a deep breath, and I couldn't speak for a moment. So I blinked, and I fought through tears as I shared what I had composed.

It is a bittersweet privilege to be here today to speak about the life of Avery. When I was asked to speak, I did research on what to say, and how to give words of comfort, because this was such a shock. Words fail me, as I'm sure they have many others who are here today. I know that the big question on everyone's mind is why? It was too soon. Avery barely had a chance at life, and while that's true, the time he did have on this earth, he lived life to the fullest. Avery brought joy to the lives of those around him. I never once saw him without that beautiful smile he always wore. I got the distinct privilege of being the first one to make Avery laugh. His laughter was like a melody. It brought me so much joy. I apologize, for I have no answers to give to you. What I do know is that Avery is in Heaven. In Matthew, Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me and suffer them not.' There's also a scripture that says 'to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord' (I'm paraphrasing). Avery will never know pain. He will never experience sorrow. He will always be young. He will always be beautiful. I want to close by reciting a well known poem by Robert Frost, Nothing Gold Can Stay. (I recited the poem, and I concluded with these words...) Avery was gold. Thank you for allowing me to speak.

It was a miracle that I made it through. I trembled, fought back tears, and tried to furiously swallow the lump that had formed in my throat. I went back to my seat. I don't remember much after that. Carrie spoke. I remember what she said. She shared about her first and last moments with Avery. When he was born, she said, "Hi Baby," to him, and he smiled the biggest smile she had ever seen. And right before he passed, she looked at him and said, "Hi Baby," and she said he smiled the biggest smile she had ever seen, just like the first one he ever gave her. Then he looked up, and he was gone.

Jodi and I couldn't stay for the graveside service. I had to drive two and a half hours back to pick up Doug, but I also had to stop and eat. I hadn't eaten all day, so I treated Jodi to lunch, we ate quickly and got back on the road, where once again, another car refused to let me over, so I was lost, again, and I wasn't relying on my GP-NO to be of any assistance, so I went through town until I found an on ramp for interstate going west, and we were on the right path again. Unfortunately, due to being lost and traffic, I was an hour late getting to Doug, so he had a work colleague drop him off at the nearby Taco Bell so he could grab a drink and a snack while he waited. It was a long, emotional day.

My last memory of Avery was at his first birthday party.

After we dropped Jodi off, I told Doug that I was so glad he wasn't able to go. I don't think he could have handled it either, and that's something I never ever want him to witness. It was too difficult on me.

Monday was Aimee's service. It would be my second funeral in three days. Thankfully, the drive wasn't as long. She had a graveside service at the cemetery right across from where she lived. I could see her house from the hill where the service took place. People from other countries came to honor her. I was amazed and humbled by that.

During the service, people took turns sharing memories to honor Aimee. I didn't speak. My memories with Aimee took place during childhood. We had some memories as teenagers, like how we went to see Metallica with a mutual friend, Danielle, when I was a freshmen and she and Dani were in eighth grade, or how she and Dani would hang out at my place, but there weren't enough memories for me to feel qualified to even speak on her behalf.

From left to right, Aimee's sister Leila (bottom) Aimee (top) me (in the pink outfit) and my brother.

Aimee and I grew apart. It happens. The thing is, this was mostly my fault. I won't go into the details, but I do blame myself. I was a selfish, boy crazy, stark raving mad teenager who had a severe case of ATS (Acute Teenager Syndrome). I stood there at the service, feeling terribly guilty and sad.

As everyone spoke, I learned some amazing things about Aimee. She was responsible for Fringe having a fifth season. She changed television ratings. I was gobsmacked, but in a good way. She went to Vancouver. She had tons of friends across globe that she spoke with regularly online. She was just this amazing person, and I missed out on that. It was my own fault.

At the end of the service, everyone got a chance to sign the guest book and write a memory or a message. I took my turn. I wrote an apology to her, and I told her that it was nice to see her over the Summer.

I had seen Aimee in June, oddly enough the day after Avery's first birthday party. Dani came in for her annual Ironton visit, and she always has everyone meet her at Giovanni's. I was actually free and able to go. Aimee was there, as well as a few others. While we were in line, Aimee and I talked briefly. At the time, I had nineteen books, and I will never forget this. She looked at me and said, "You've got nineteen books. I think it's time you put one out there." Me, Aimee, and Dani spoke briefly in the parking lot, standing there in the pouring rain, and goofing off just like old times. That was the last time I saw her.

After the funeral, I went to find somewhere for lunch and decided on Ruby Tuesday just a few minutes from my husband's place of employment. As I'm sitting there, eating, a song by Pearl Jam, one of Aimee's favorite bands, started playing, and I burst into tears in the middle of the restaurant. It was such a fitting and precious moment though.

This is one of the last photos of Aimee. One of her many friends shared it on Facebook to honor her.

The book of short stories I'm releasing is called Dormiveglia. I plan to release it on October 31st of this year. I have dedicated it to Aimee, and I shared a brief forward filled with memories about our childhood friendship.

2014

Now we arrive at an even more difficult part of this tribute.

Many of you have kept in touch with me concerning my father-in-law, and many of you know the horrible things that he went through for the last four years. Many of you have read the blog posts about him being in and out of the hospital, and about the many calls that my husband and I received where medical staff told us he was dying, and how he would always bounce back from it and they would ship him to the nearest nursing home who would take him as he was with several conditions that they insisted upon, but never enforced.

It is with mixed emotions that I share this announcement with you.

My father-in-law passed away on February 22nd of 2014.

I say mixed emotions, because part of me is sad, but the other part of me is relieved to know that he will no longer be in pain, confused, or scared. He's not stuck in a bed with bed sores, unable to eat or communicate. I miss him, but I lost him four years ago. It was just his body that was left. I honestly thought I had already grieved for him and got it out of my system the first time he didn't recognize me. (He never recognized me again.) But when his body went, I found that I took it just as hard as I did when his mind left.

Let's back up a couple of days.

On Thursday, February 20th, someone from the hospital rang Doug while he was picking up groceries. It was like ten o'clock that evening. I was at home, sick as a dog. I had a sore throat, fever, a horrible cough, head and chest congestion, and absolutely no voice. I was still in my pajamas, hair in a messy braid, and lying on the couch watching television when Doug sent me a text. It said something along the lines of, "Get ready. As soon as I come home and put the groceries away, we have to go to the hospital." I responded to his message. I dragged my germ infested body to the closet, got dressed, threw my hair in a more polished ponytail, put on my shoes, grabbed my coat, and I went to lie back down on the couch while I waited. Doug, who got held up by his mother ringing him pertaining to the same situation, (she was already at the hospital with fnl) finally returned, was pleasantly surprised to see that I had managed to dress myself, and we locked up the cottage, and headed for the car as soon as he put the groceries away.

At the local hospital, we met mnl on the second floor. It was familiar to me because when Doug was hospitalized in 2009 to undergo surgery, he was in that same area. I was simply there for moral support for my husband and mnl. I couldn't utter a word of input if they asked, and I was hoping nobody asked.

The doctor, and another associate, I don't recall exactly who he was, took us to a tiny room, a break room of sorts right there by where we waited. Doug introduced me and explained that I was sick and had no voice, and the doctor said I could write down any input I had. Being a writer, I keep a mini notebook and several pens from which to choose in order to write down story ideas while out gallivanting about town.

The doctor was a very nice man, unlike the one I didn't much care for when fnl was in the ICU the time before last. He presented the case to us calmly and with great patience (no pun intended) as we selected one of three choices we were given.

The choices were as follows:

1. Life support. My fnl would live for three to four weeks, but be in agony.
2. Hospice. My fnl could be moved to one of two hospice facilities.
3. Hospice Care. Right there at the hospital.

I weighed in, quickly jotting down for the third option, because I didn't want fnl to be transported from the hospital, simply because it was difficult on him to travel. My mnl and my husband were in agreement. Doug shared what I had written, and we pursued information about this third option. The doctor explained that the hospital would place fnl in a room and stop tube feeds via his g-button, but continue with pain medicine as needed and keep him on oxygen.

My mnl didn't like the thought of stopping feeds, and I was worried she was going to change her mind. To be honest, I didn't much care for the idea of my fnl not receiving tube feeds, but I wanted what was best for him, rather than watch his quality of life decline any further than it already was. To be beyond the valley of honest, he hadn't had ANY quality of life since 2012. After the kind doctor assured mnl that nobody had died from starvation while in hospice care, my mnl was okay with the option the three of us had selected.

The doctor and the associate left to get everything set up.

I went to the lobby just across from the hallway where fnl's room was. I was sick, and he was in isolation, and I wasn't so sure I should be visiting him, so I waited while Doug and mnl donned the pale yellow paper thin gowns and rubber gloves, and visited him.

The hospital chaplain appeared next after Doug and his mother came to the plush lobby where I waited. He prayed for my fnl and with us. Then, I decided to don a yellow paper thin gown, mask and rubber gloves to go in and see him. I didn't want to take any chances on not getting to at least see him before the inevitable happened. Doug was glad that I decided to go into the room.

Doug and I went home and went to bed sometime around or after midnight. It was one of those rare occasions where I was too sick to for insomnia to kick my butt all over the wee hours, and I crashed.

February 21st, Friday, six AM, Doug's mother rang him and told him that it was going to be any minute now, so we dragged out of bed. I took a quick shower and some pain meds in attempt to feel better, threw on some clothes (I layered since I was alternating between freezing and burning up), dried my hair, put on my shoes, and ran out the door.

 We spent from seven something in the morning until after eleven o'clock that night at the hospital. Doug's aunt and uncle came and spent some time with us during the earlier part of the day. The phone call was yet another one of those "any minute" predictions that was anything but.

We got one dozen of those calls throughout the last four years. where the nursing home staff, hospital staff, or mnl would ring one of us and say we needed to come immediately. We had been through so many of those that I was to the point that I wasn't sure how true it was, and Friday's telephone call was one of those times. I'm not trying to be hateful, because I didn't want him to die, but I also didn't want him to suffer any longer, I'm just being honest. Doug would be rung by someone. He would be told it was the end. We would rush over to the hospital or nursing home, fnl would bounce back, and according to the nursing home staff, he was just experiencing (fill in the random reason), and the hospital staff would be ready to ship him back to the nursing home.

Shelly#2 came to visit and did everything she could to cheer us up.

Obviously, I'm the horribly sick looking one in the mask.

I have refrained from sharing the pictures of where we drew lipstick lips on our masks with Shelly#2's lipstick. It was funny, but I don't think appropriate for this post. Still, it made my mnl laugh until she cried, and I was thankful for that.

Sarturday, February 22nd.

At some time after nine o'clock in the morning, mnl rang Doug to tell us that fnl was gone. I did not expect that. I honestly expected it to be the thirteenth, "any minute" call, but it wasn't. He was gone. He waited until my mnl left the room to go eat, and then he was gone.

Doug and I got up, showered, and went to the hospital. I was surprised that the body was still in the room, and the apparatus that made the bed move in various spots to keep fnl from getting even worse bed sores was still going, so his body was in the bed, and it was moving. It actually creeped me out. My mnl said the nurse offered to turn it off, and she insisted it wasn't bothering her, but I couldn't wait to get out of there.

We left the hospital and went to Max and Erma's to eat. Doug had to order for me. 

Our next stop was the funeral home, where the service would be held. My mnl had set up everything last June, but there were things that needed to be finalized, like the obit, and figuring out the casket, the flowers, and the suit fnl would wear. The staff at the funeral home were wonderful. They offered my mnl a suit free of charge. My fnl didn't really have any suits. They did what they could to keep mnl from having to pay more money. We finalized everything but the obit. (Mnl went back to have a few things changed on it the next day.) And we were off to the cemetery.

At the cemetery, we were greeted by staff members who were just as kind. They offered us drinks and snacks. They helped mnl choose a marble and a plaque design. They offered her a payment plan. They gave her an angel pin to wear, and thank you cards for the people who would serve as pallbearers. They stayed late for her. They even drove us to the plot, (it's a huge cemetery) and back to the office.

With everything accomplished, we went to his aunt and uncle's house, where we spent the remainder of the evening, eating pizza, and sharing memories.

Sunday, February 23rd.

Sunday was rough. I'm not even sure we went to church. I didn't, but I don't think Doug did either.

We picked up mnl, took her back to the funeral home to make changes to the obit. We stopped at Wendy's to eat, and that's when I started freaking out. My heart was pounding, and I felt like I was going to faint. Doug knew something was wrong. I asked him to walk me to the loo, and I fell apart, right there in the middle of Wendy's. I don't know what happened. I pulled myself together, returned to the table, acted like I was okay so my mnl wouldn't have to see me freak out or cry, and picked at my food. After I ate a few bites of my chili, I started feeling better.

From there, we took mnl to the store, took her home, and headed for the cottage.

February 25th.

Today was my brother's birthday. (This was not the first time death was involved around my brother's birthday. Our cousin died in a car accident the day before his birthday in 1993.) That evening was the visitation for fnl. We met up with Doug's paternal aunt and uncle, who came in for the visitation/funeral. I still had no voice, but we met them for dinner, and Doug had to order for me and explain to them that I couldn't talk.

We got to the funeral home thirty minutes early. We spoke briefly with the staff, except for me, and they took us to the room. The set up was beautiful. Despite the discounts they gave mnl, they did not cut corners. We walked in. I was surprised at how good fnl looked. I know that people say things like that, and more often than not the body doesn't really look good, but I mean it. It think it was because he looked so bad for the last two and a half years, always tensed up in pain with a scared look on his face, and his lips were so dry. On father's day a year ago, I actually demanded that that one of the staff members put some chapstick on his lips. They were ridiculously dry. It broke my heart. Mnl said that the staff put something on his lips every hour that was supposed to be better than chapstick. Apparently the staff either didn't apply anything, or it didn't work. I'm not sure what caused his lips to be so dry. But he looked so much better than he had the last few years of his life.

My mnl broke down and cried when she saw her husband in the casket. I felt the familiar lump forming in my throat, but I remained stoic. I took up residence in a comfortable chair and watched everyone come and go. People I knew came and talked with me, and I could only whisper in response. There were people from mnl and fnl's church who recognized us. We had attended there and sang in the choir for three years until we went to Judgement House, and we fell in love with the church that put on JH. People from our church came to support us. One family from our church delivered a meat and cheese tray, soda, and chips, and it was so cold out that we knew that the car would serve as a refrigerator to the tray until we got home. Doug's relatives came to offer their condolences. The barbershop group with which my fnl sang came and did a few songs at the visitation. While that was going on, a lady that Doug and I sang in the choir with at mnl and fnl's church sat in the chair beside me and held my hand. I think she may have thought I felt left out, but I didn't. I was simply observing. That's what I would have done even if I could have spoken. 

I've always been an observer, the outside looking in type. And as I watched people come and go, and I watched them interact with my husband's family (he has a great family and I'm so glad to be part of it) it just made me realize how much I loved them and the people who were kind enough to do the things I couldn't do at that moment. I felt like Doug's family needed them more than I did.

Toward the end of the night, my close friend of going on twenty years, Allison, came all the way from where she lives, a 45 minute drive, just to be there for us. That really touched my heart. I could only whisper my appreciation to her, but I REALLY appreciated it. My friend Jodi also came, and Gina and Chad, and a few others, including my fnl's favorite pastor from our church, and his son and daughter-in-law. We had so much love and support from everyone, and I am still truly grateful.

After the service, we went home, had sandwiches from the meat and cheese tray, chips, and introduced my mnl to Blast from the Past on the DVR. She LOVED it. We knew she would.

February 26th.

We met the aunt and uncle for breakfast at Bob Evans early that morning prior to the funeral home. When we got there, we were greeted by people who were unable to make it to the visitation for one reason or another. They signed the book, took a card with brief info about fnl's life, his DOB and DOD, the scripture insert, and the service times inside.

The pastor from our church came and prayed with us prior to the service. He and his wife sent a wreath. It's still hanging on our front door. I decided to leave it up until it's time to decorate for Fall. It will go back up on the door after Christmas. And a friend of ours who works on the church media with us served as a pallbearer.

The pastor from fnl's church was the one who spoke at the service. He did a beautiful job. My fnl's family and mnl's family are both Scotch-Irish. (My paternal side is rumored to be Scotch-Irish as well, but I couldn't tell you if that's true or not. Too many secrets and lies to sort through.) My fnl never got to go to Ireland like he wanted. It was one of his dreams that never came true. So at the end of the service, the pastor read the Irish Blessing. It was fnl's favorite thing ever. I can't read it or even type it without crying.

I'm going to leave you with a few pictures, and then the Irish Blessing.

From left to right, front row: mnl, me, Doug; back row: fnl, fnl's brother May 2007

Fnl Summer 2010 at HHR. I have no idea what I'm doing behind him.

May the road rise up to meet you

May the wind be always at your back

May the sun shine warm upon your face

The rain fall softly on your fields

And until we meet again

May God hold you in the palm of His hand

So to Avery, Aimee, and John, until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

It's Been A Long Time...

It's been so long since I posted a blog. I feel like I owe everyone an apology. I'm sure some of you wondered if I was still blogging here. But I'm back, and I'm sorry for being absent for such a long time, and I hope each of you are doing well.

There's not a whole lot of new going on at Chateau De Townsend. We did get a few new things, like a washer and dryer. The dryer was free, courtesy of Aunt Freda and Uncle Bill, and the washer was a very good price. I'm chuffed to bits to be able to do laundry again! It's such a blessing! I'm able to sit on my couch and fold clothes! No more trips to the laundromat!

Doug also bought me a Keurig. We found one at a good price, and I've been enjoying Italian Roast Coffee in my KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON London Flag mug, and my THANK GOD FOR GIRLFRIENDS mug that's pink with high heels on it that Jodi got for me for Christmas! It's such a blessing having a Keurig, too. I like my coffee au lait, and I actually sit and enjoy it, unlike the prepackaged bottles of vanilla frappy I used to drink.

Doug became the same age as me in June.

I'm up to twenty-two books now. I've never had writer's block, but I have writer's tackle. *groan* Sorry. I can't take credit for that. One of my doctor friends came up with the whole "writer's tackle" thing. *lol*

I started a new blog, but I'm not leaving this one. It's a blog composed of short stories that are inspired by dreams...well nightmares I've had. You can check it out by clicking here. The stories are both written in the first person and they are sort of from the horror genre, not supernatural ghosts and vampires, and emo girls who date them, or werewolves, or Frankenstein's monster and his family. They are about real things that could happen. So perhaps realistic horror. *shrugs* I don't know. Read them with caution. That's all I ask.

I've been sick. Story of my life, I know. I went on a trip and brought bronchitis back as a souvenir. I was nice enough to give it to Doug. He's doing much better now, but he was really sick. Unfortunately, I still don't feel well. Again, story of my life. So things around here have looked like this:





I wouldn't use real pics of us sick. That would give people nightmares! *lol*

My father-in-law went into the hospital while I was out of town. He seems to do that a lot. It's almost like he knows! "Hey, Shellye and/or Shellye and Doug are out of town. Time for me to get sick and go to the hospital!" He actually improved for a short period of time. To give you a little background, two days after Father's Day, my father-in-law pulled out his trache. The staff at the nursing home noticed that he was breathing on his own without the trache and the "breathing machine that was apparently not a ventilator". And he lived without it until the third day of my trip. He was talking and everything. I don't know if he ever got to eat by mouth during the time that the trache was out, and I assume that my mother-in-law would have said so if he had, but now the trache and the ventilator are back in place, and he was finally sent to Cornerstone, in St. Mary's Hospital. He's usually at CHH. Unfortunately, he can only stay there until September 1st, and if he's not weaned off of the ventilator, he will have to be shipped to a facility two hours away. *sighs* I really hope that doesn't happen.

On the second day of my trip out of town, Doug was in a car accident in the company car. He was unharmed. He was making a left hand turn, and a guy sped past another car and hit him as he was turning. The guy was speeding, but that's okay for him to do apparently because according to the police report, it was Doug's fault. No mention of the speeding was on the report of course. But ultimately, what the report is saying is that my husband is powerful enough to cause someone to speed past another car and hit him. He had plenty of time and room to turn until the car came flying around the other car and hit him. *shrugs* So we're going to be broke for a while because Doug has to pay the $1,000 deductible, which means he will be paying the company to work there for a while. We're both concerned that his job is in jeopardy. Since the accident, he has been stuck at the shop all day. And if they do put him back on the road, and he's the victim of someone else's stupidity behind the wheel, he will automatically be sacked.

I lost a few people who I thought were my friends along the way.









One of them I have made amends with, but it will never be the same. The other one was no big loss. I hate to be that way, but she has hurt me before. I knew that I didn't need her or her drama in my life. Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that it still hurts. I was there when she had nobody. But that doesn't matter. She actually told me that I was going to have nobody but my fictional characters and that I would die cold and alone. Maybe she's right. Just maybe. With friends like that, why should I want non-fictional people in my life?
























There's rarely any real loyalty in this world anymore. Loyalty is becoming extinct. That's why the whole "us four and no more" principle exists. People get hurt. They make the mistake of thinking they have people who love them and care about them in their lives.



I have several really good friends, one I've known for eighteen years, and one I've know for sixteen, and several that I've known for almost ten years. I've even had one person really surprise me by being a friend, and let me tell you, she is a hidden treasure. I don't know what I would have done without her this past year.

Anyway, I'm not going to name names or rehash the situation, but I am going to share my feelings because it is my blog and I can. And once I have shared these, I'm going to belt up about it and move on.





Below are the things I wanted to say...














And now I will move on.

The truth is...



It's difficult to forget anything with my eidetic memory, but like the quote says that I shared on my fan page yesterday:

"When your past calls, don't answer. It has nothing new to say."

True story.

Maybe some of the pictures were a little mean, but I've been pushed too far. As John Pinnette would say, "I lost my cherub like demeanor." It doesn't mean that I don't love the people who have really stood by me, because I do. I'm just hurt by what the fake friends have done to me, and I have every right to be hurt. Am I going to stay there? No. I'll get over it.

I am contemplating whether or not I have room for new people in my life in light of everything that's happened. I just don't want to invest my time and my whole self into something that isn't going to last. If someone can wad up the friendship after ten years (give or take), and almost throw it away in a fit of anger over something so beyond the valley of asinine, is a twenty, or thirty, or forty year friendship really and truly stable? The answer is no. Nothing is stable. That's why you have to be careful.

Here's some helpful tips for a happier life.

• Don't share anything you don't want shared with the world. Secrets aren't really secret.
• Never vent to anyone. If you're having a problem, find a someone with a solution, or ask Google.
• Get rid of the drama lovers. Those who love drama love to drag the innocent bystanders around them into the middle of it. It's like a Broadway production to them. They don't care who gets hurt in the process as long as the world revolves around them.
• Never let someone stay in your home for more than three days. They will use up all of your things and drain you of every cent you have, and never replace what they've used or apologize for it.
• Don't get angry with your family. They have to love you, but they don't have to like you.
• If you want something done right, do it yourself. If you want something done right now. You have to do it yourself.
• If you make a promise, keep it. If you make an appointment, keep it. If you make a commitment, keep it. It is better not to make a vow than to break a vow.
• Feelings are temporary, even love. They say that love conquers all, but even love isn't enough.
• Unforgiveness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Forgive. It may take a while, but it's worth it, not for them but for you.
• Forgiving is one thing, but forgetting is another. Don't forget what you've been through so you won't make the same mistake over and over. Original mistakes only.

And that concludes this post! Doug is on his way home, and I'm going to find something to munch.

Have a great day, everyone!

March, April, and Easter.

Greetings, Salutations, and Happy Belated Easter!

It's been a while since I composed a post, and so please accept my sincerest apologies. I've been quite busy these days. March was probably the busiest month I experienced recently.



Today is the first day of April. In four days, I will become older. I don't like that, but there's nothing I can do to stop it from happening...except cosmetic surgery! *LOL*

I got invited on a little getaway to Florida with my friends, Ed and Jamilaih. Doug had just literally started his job days before they invited me, so he couldn't go. I'm not big on being away from home, and that's probably due to OCD. Vacation for us OCD sufferers is often not vacation. Allow me to explain.

1. Being away from home is scary to OCD sufferers. Our homes are like our safe places. We control what goes on in our homes, what we allow in our homes, and home is a place of refuge if we're traumatized on the outside.
2. Packing is never fun for an OCD sufferer. We ALWAYS think we are forgetting something, even though like Santa Claus, we've made our lists and checked them twice, or in this case, an even ten times. (I could have just slipped my phone into its little compartment in my purse, and all my husband has to do is asked, "Did you get your phone?" And even though I just put it in there a nanosecond ago, I STILL have to check for it!)
3. No matter how you travel, it's dangerous and scary. I could tell you the statistics for motor vehicle accidents, train derailments, and plane crashes.
4. And once the destination of travel is reached, then there are worries about the home and your loved ones. The picture in my mind was of Doug eating junk food, pizza boxes and fast food wrappers strewn about the cottage, and empty energy drink cans and Dr. Pepper bottles all over the floor in the car. None of that happened, though.

I bit the proverbial bullet and went on the trip. I'm very proud of myself for that. I was among friends, so I wasn't alone, and they had taken this trip before, so they knew what they were doing.

Ed and Jamilaih were going there for the Missionary Conference at Faith Baptist Church. They were a part of the conference. They are going to Belize soon. (I want to go, too.) I will see about getting more information to share so I can promote them on my blog.

We literally stayed at the church. They had rooms there. That was the first time I've ever heard of or seen such a thing. They gave us keys so we could keep our things under lock.

The conference was from Monday to Thursday. Services were held daily at nine A.M. and seven P.M. and we were fed three meals per day. I wasn't used to all this food. I sort of have bad habits when it comes to food and consumption. I drink coffee for breakfast. That's it. But since I got back from Florida, I've been having cold cereal every morning. They had it there, and surprisingly enough, that whole, "If you want to lose weight, don't skip breakfast" tip is actually true. I dropped five pounds while I was there! And the food was good, too. 

I met so many nice people at Faith Baptist Church. Some of them attended the church, and others were missionaries who came in for the conference. Ed and Jamilaih finally got to sit down face to face with a family who are also missionaries in Belize. They were there for the conference. They had spoken on Facebook, but hadn't met until we got there. They were nice, and they have four beautiful children. Jamilaih and I went with them to go shopping and to Starbucks. The boys are so funny! I sat in the back with them, and they were telling me all about the history of the Power Rangers. They entertained me with action figures. It was so fun!

Faith Baptist Church was nice, and it was different from what I was used to. It was set up similarly to the church I attend, but about half the size. The missionaries set up their tables in the back, and people gathered before and after services to talk with them. The church had slots along the walls where they kept newsletters from other missionaries they support. At the conference, there were missionaries to Argentina, Honduras, the Lakota Sioux Tribe in South Dakota, Africa, and to the Jewish people, and as I previously mentioned, Belize. Every night, they had the missionaries come and share a little bit about themselves, their families, and their mission. And each day, different missionaries spoke.

While we were there, they had a women's luncheon. Jamilaih and I went and hung out with the women and their daughters, while the men and their sons had pizza. We got to try something called "Impossible Cake," a dish served in Belize.

The last night of the conference, I exchanged contact information with some of the people, and I have several new followers on Facebook! Yesterday, when I went to my church (I wasn't able to go until yesterday, due to illness), it was weird not seeing them.

We spent one last night at the church, then, the next day, we packed up and headed for Destin Beach.

I've been to Myrtle Beach, S. C. and to a beach in North Carolina, but after seeing Destin Beach, it makes both Myrtle and the beach in NC both look like a city dump. Here's why:

Turquoise water...that's something I've never seen until we went there!

This is what our day looked like!

There were places like this near the steps with this grass growing out of the sand!

I wish we could have stopped so I could get a picture of what I'm about to describe, but there was a little bay area that we passed where one side of the water was turquoise, and the other side of the water was blue! It was so awesome to see such a distinct cut off of different colored water! How did that happen?

I haven't seen a beach since I was in my 16th year, so this was a shock to behold. It was around sixty-five degrees, with a chill in the air that felt refreshing. While Ed and Jamilaih were trying to pick a spot, I rolled up my jeans and ran straight for the water! As soon as the water swirled around my feet, I started laughing and crying at the same time! My heart ached for Doug terribly all of the sudden. He should have been experiencing this with me, but I didn't dwell on it. I knew even though he couldn't be there, he would want me to have fun. So I walked along the beach. I tried to keep my hat on, but the wind kept blowing it, so I gave up. I found 1/3 of a sand dollar and a few shells. I found Jamilaih and Ed a couple of pieces of a sand dollar and a few shells, but there were not many shells to be found. I didn't even see any children searching for them. Around me, people were carrying surf boards, playing volleyball, swimming, lying in beach chairs, or playing in the sand. Some girls in bikinis were lining up while guys took pictures of them, no doubt for Tumblr. I could be wrong, but I've seen some of the poses on Tumblr before. There was a group on the beach, listening to FUN's song, Some Nights. Some people were walking along the beach, like me. I walked either way until I realized I could no longer see Ed and Jamilah, then, I went back.

Ed and Jamilaih met up with some friends that they saw last time they were in Florida for the conference. When I got back from my walk, the six of them were sitting in the sand, talking. We went to The Crab Trap to eat, right there on the beach, just a few feet from where we were sitting. Ed ands Jay's friends were nice enough to pay for our meal. I had a coconut smoothie and the best crab cakes I've ever eaten! We talked to them for a while, then, we needed to get on the road. We were leaving a lot later than we had planned, but it was for good reason. 

We stopped in Tennessee for the night, deciding to break up the thirteen hour trip into two days. We got home on Saturday around four that afternoon. Doug was beyond the valley of the thrilled to see me! He took me to Starbucks and we sat and enjoyed the seventy degree weather. Then, we went home and he helped me unpack everything.

Sunday, I was really looking forward to going to church, but I was beyond the valley of exhausted, and I couldn't get up. I laid in bed most of the day. My body hurt, but I attributed it to being in the car for two days. Unfortunately, I spiked a fever of 101 that night, and I spent my first week home sick.

It's been about three weeks, and I still don't feel like I'm completely over it, but that could be due to the changing weather. It's been forty degrees one day, and sixty the next. We've had to use our fans part of the day, then turn them off a few hours later. The way it looks, Spring isn't coming.

Here are some other things about Florida:

• I got to see a palm tree for the first time with my own eyes! I had seen pictures of them, but I had never seen them "in real life" before. Some of them had the criss cross pattern at the top, but others didn't. I don't know if that denotes maturity or type of palm tree it is, or what, but I do know that a palm tree's root is as long as the tree is tall, meaning nine feet tall = nine foot long root!
• Faith Baptist Church has several thrift stores there. They were nice, unlike the thrift stores here, and they offered a 50% discount to missionaries!
• My allergies were really bad in Florida. I have no idea why, but my head was so stuffed up while I was there, and I was eating pain meds like candy, due to the sinus pain and pressure. Someone had told me and Doug a few years ago that when he went to Florida, his allergies were working overtime.
• It was actually disappointing, coming back here from Florida, after experiencing a week of fifty degree mornings with a cold but bracing chill in the air, seventy degree days with lots of sunshine, and forty degree nights. Thankfully, the day we returned home was seventy degrees! I never thought I would say I couldn't wait for warm days and wearing sunglasses and floppies!
• We ate at a place called Helen Back, that had the best food! When Ed told me he was going to take me to Helen Back, I was little intimidated at first. *lol*
• After seeing Destin Beach, I NEVER want to go to any other beach ever again!
• Now this may be shocking, but I DID NOT WORK ON MY BOOK SERIES the entire time I was in Florida! I did get online, but I repeat, I DID NOT WORK! Doug was very proud of me!

I had a funeral to attend that first week after returning home. Our church lost an amazing woman at the hands of a drunk driver. I went to the funeral sick as a dog and sat in the back away from everyone until a friend insisted I sit with her even though I may have still been contagious.

My father-in-law spent the last week of March in the hospital for pneumonia, sepsis, renal failure, and a bowel infection. He was in isolation, although I didn't understand their version of isolation. They give you a yellow gown that's thinner than paper, and gloves to put on. I don't know if that's to protect us from him, or him from us. Either way, I don't see how it would work, so I didn't go in his ICU room. I wasn't taking any chances. He was released to go back to the nursing home yesterday.

My mother-in-law made a tough decision. She decided to institute a DNR as my father-in-law's primary medical power of attorney. Doug is his father's secondary medical power of attorney. The first night he was in the hospital, they changed the full resuscitation order to a DNR. I know it's tough, but it's the right thing to do. My mother-in-law changed her mind because a kind doctor explained to her that full resuscitation requires chest compressions, which would break my father-in-law's ribs, cause pain, and further lower his quality of life. Whoever that doctor was, thank you.

Now, for an update about my book series!

I have now written eighteen books. One is a prequel, one is a sequel. The rest of the books are the first part of the series. I have written a grand total of, drum roll please, 921,334 words and 9,659 pages! (And boy are my arms tired!) This is including the work I did today.

The first book should be ready to publish by October. I had a book in mind to publish, but now I am leaning toward a different book in the series. I still have no titles, not even an overall series title. As you can see, this is why I am in way over my head.

I do have a fan page on Facebook now! You can view the page and like it here. Please have a dekko at it and like it, and if any of my readers have any fan pages you want me to like, send me a link and I will be pleased to do that for you.

Easter...it's about the resurrection, yet it has become so commercialized these days. It didn't seem as bad this year, either that, or I just didn't go out and about at the correct times. I made the mistake of buying a dress. I haven't bought an Easter dress since 2009, after a horrible shopping excursion took place. I had exchanged it once because it wasn't the right size, and I had tried on the previous one, so I thought I was good. This dress didn't fit either. So I had to scrounge through my closet and find a dress I hadn't worn before. I hate wearing dresses to begin with, so I found one, a little black dress. Doug wasn't thrilled with the idea of me wearing black, but most of my dresses are black. So I threw it on. We were running behind thanks to nothing working out, and I had to stop in the middle of getting ready, take him to church, then go back home, get ready, and go find somewhere open for breakfast, and it was pouring the rain, and I didn't get there until ten o'clock. Needless to say, I was in a lousy mood. I had to take two trips up to the crow's nest because I couldn't carry everything at once, and my high heels were not working out, so I put on the flip flops I brought and decided I really didn't care what anyone thought. Only two people wore all black, three if you count me. That was it. Thankfully, we were in the crow's nest, doing the media and song lyrics for the screens for both services.

After Easter service, Doug took me to Applebee's. As I got out of the car, a spider climbed down from his web and was about to drop on me. I know you're asking, "How do you know it was a boy spider?" It was because of the way he looked at me. Yes, that's a valid answer! I nearly freaked! So I stood there in the pouring rain, until I started to get cold, so I ran inside the restaurant while Doug went on a search and destroy mission for our uninvited guest who decided to drop in unannounced. He knew if he didn't kill the spider that I would not get back in the car. YAY OCD!

I was seated immediately, which was a shock. When the hostess asked how many in our party, and I said two, and she replied with, "Oh, we can seat two right now." The food was good, our time together was good. Then, we went home. I slept most of the evening, then watched television, and finally got some work done! I wanted to work earlier, but I kept falling asleep. Sleepiness is a writer's mortal enemy! *lol*

Anyway, I've decided for sure NO MORE EASTER DRESSES! Henceforth, I will be buying Easter dress pants and Easter dress shirts! I hate wearing dresses!

That sums up our Easter. I hope everyone had a Happy Easter! I hope everyone has an awesome month!

I will now leave you with some Easter images!

I LOVE the London flag egg!

I wish Spring would come...

And this final pic deserves a spot all on its own!