"Boys are SUCH Nut-jobs"

Yesterday, I was in my front yard weeding my flower garden.  (No, I was not getting sprayed with the cow crap sprinkler.  Thankfully, it has moved on.)  Anyway, so I'm out there in all my peaceful quiet bliss, and I hear my 8-year-old son, Cole throw open the window and yell, "MOM.  MOM!!  Come QUICK."

Oh GOOD LORD.  NOW what? 

Without hesitation, I toss down my hand rake, bolt upright, and I run.  No, I SPRINT around the house and inside the door, thinking, "What did he break now?"  Followed by, "Oh man. Is he hurt?"  And then, "Oh gees.  He probably BROKE something AND got hurt with it."  And finally, "Did he bleed all over my new carpet?"

Me:  out of breath, inside the house now, scanning for blood, broken glass, and Cole...in that order  "WHAT, Cole?" breathlessly,  "Whatsamatter?"

Cole:  running down the hall to greet me "Mom!  Guess what?"

Me:  "WHAT?"

Cole:  "My weenis doesn't feel right."

Me:  "Your what?"  Yeah, I heard him. But it wasn't what I expected.  And yes, a 'weenis' is what you think it is.  He came up with that little gem.  All by himself.  About 2 years ago.

Cole:  "My WEENIS.  It feels weird."

Me: "What do you mean, it doesn't feel right?  What's the matter with it?"

Cole:  "Well, it sort of feels like it's suffocating."

Me:  "Suffocating?"

Cole:  "Yes, suffocating."

Me:  "Ok, well, hmmmm.  Interesting.  Let me see."

Cole:  "You want to see my weenis?"

Me:  "Well.  Yes.  I do.  Let me take a look."

Cole:  Tugging down his sweat pants and undies in one fell swoop "Heeeere it is." As if he's showing me a grand piece of artwork  "My WEENIS!"

Me:  Bending down to take a look "Well, you know what, Cole?  It looks fine."

Cole:  "Oh!  Ok.  Well, it DOES feel better now."

Me:  "It does?"

Cole:  "Yeah.  It needed air I guess.  See?  It WAS suffocating."

Me:  "Ooookaaay then...  Good.  I'm glad.  Now, put that thing away."  Walking toward the door slowly...shaking my head...

And then whipping around and bolting back to Cole...

Me:  "One more thing.  Cole?"

Cole:  "Yeah?"

Me:  "If you ever feel your weenis is suffocating at school, do not... I repeat... DO NOT air it out there.  Wait until you get home."

Cole:  Mulling over this recent piece of advice..."Got it.  Ok, Mom."

Ummmm...if you knew my son, you'd understand why I had to add that last tidbit....It was a REQUIREMENT that I add it.  BELIEVE me.  Monumentally essential.

And the title of this post?  It's a direct quote from my 10-year-old daughter.  She's been saying it for years.

I'm inclined to agree.

Six Random Things

I've been tagged!  Tania tagged me and now I'm supposed to post 6 random facts about myself.  Actually, though, I did something similar to that when I first started my blog.  So, because a) I'm not original enough to think of 6 more facts about myself, and b) I'm also just too plain lazy to think of 6 more, I'm going to cut and paste those six facts here again.  There's nothing in the rules that say I can't do that, right?  So here we go...Six random facts about moi:

1.  I used to think you died on your birthday. To make it nice and 'clean.' You know - She was EXACTLY 86 when she died. Or whatever. My husband still gives me a hard time about this. Recently, on our anniversary, we were coming back from our dinner date, he said, "Well, if we die on the way home at least people can say we were married exactly 17 years when we died." Yeah, he's a riot.

2.  I once hired a hitman to snuff out my Grandma's dog, Odie. Now before you get your panties all in a bunch, you need to realize that my Grandma's dog was pure evil. It was this horrible wire-haired fox terrier rat dog. Now, I love animals in general, but this thing... I'm pretty sure this creature was Satan himself. Everyone in my family hated this dog. As soon as you walked into my grandparent's house it would start bounding up and down barking this horrible ear-piercing high pitched noise. BARK BARK BARK BARK constantly. You couldn't talk, or do anything really with this dog around. My brother had to wear a cup around this dog because it bounced as it barked and zeroed right in on that part of the anatomy. (Well, he didn't really wear a cup, but he threatened to.) Anyway, this guy at the lab where I worked agreed to rub out the dog for me. But, sadly, he chickened out, and the dog died of natural causes a few long years later.

3.  I forgot to wear a shirt in first grade. Seriously. That bad dream you have where you show up at a public place naked? I lived it. My family owned a restaurant back then, so my mom was up and out of the house super early. So us kids were responsible for getting ourselves up and down to the bus stop ourselves. Well, this day when I got to school, I unzipped my snowsuit (we lived in Alaska) and looked down and noticed nothing on from the waist up. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  It was horrifying. I had to go and get a shirt from the lost-and-found. I remember it was orange. And it smelled.

4.  I have a tendency to count things. Like when I drive on the freeway? I count the seams in the pavement in my head. When I'm in a public restroom, I count the tiles. I don't even realize I do it. Yeah, it's weird. I noticed that my youngest son does it too. My doctor assures me that no, we don't have OCD. But still, sorta weird.

5.  When I was like 15 or so, I was baptized. In front of our entire church in a bathtub. Like a full immersion. It was NOT a good experience. I was wearing a cream colored outfit which quickly became see-through. Actually, it prolly wasn't as see-through as I thought, but when you're 15, any amount of see-throughness is pretty traumatic. Also, one of my contacts floated away. :( But before all that, when I was standing up there and the Pastor was asking me questions about my faith, etc., he wanted to know when I became 'born again.' I didn't have a magical date when that happened like my mom did (she was baptized right before me. Which was pretty cool I guess.) But still, overall? Not good.

6.  When I used to work in the lab in the VA hospital, I got to watch and sometimes assist with autopsies. (In hospitals they always put the lab downstairs in the basement near the morgue.) I loved it! I think I missed my calling. My favorite show on TV is Dr. G. She has like my dream job! I would LOVE to be her! (Well, except that I never went to medical school. Besides THAT minor detail, I would love to be her.)

So there ya go! 

Ok, also I'm supposed to post the rules:

1) Link to the person who tagged you.  check
2) Post the rules on your blog.  check
3) Write 6 random things about yourself.  done
4) Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them.  uhhhh....
5) Let each person know they have been tagged, leave a comment on their blog.  hmmm.
6) Let the tagger know when your entry is up.   check

You know what?  I'm not going to tag anyone.  :(  Everyone I know online (like all 4 people) have already been tagged.  Soooo, I'm gonna blow off that part.  I'm a rebel like that.

And you think YOUR neighbors are irritating...

I love where I live. I truly do. I love looking out of my front window and seeing cows instead of houses. I know this life isn't for everybody. But for me? I love it!

We live directly across the street from a dairy pasture. This is what I see when I pull out of my driveway. Cows and more cows!

Ummm...But, we also see this sometimes:

What is that... a sprinkler?

Yeah. It's a sprinkler alright. But that ain't water. No. It sure isn't.

It's cow manure. Yep. You heard me. Right across the street from our house, at this very moment is a sprinkler out of which cow crap is SPRAYING.

And spraying and spraying. Can't cha just SMELL it? I can. Wooo. And it's ripe, lemme tell ya.

A couple times a year we have to endure this. The dreaded cow crap sprinkler.

The windows get sealed tight. The kids play in the BACKyard instead of the front. I burn copious amount of candles in the house to mask the smell. But you know what? It's ok. I STILL love where I live.

Wanna come over?

Confessions of a Lifetime Worrier

For as long as I can remember, people have been telling me that I worry too much.

One time when I was really little - like 5 or 6, I was visiting my dad.  (My parents are divorced, and my sister and brother and I flew to see our dad who lived in another town.)  Anyway, when this particular visit was over, I remember asking my dad, "When does our flight leave?"  And my dad said, "Diane?  You worry too much."

I do?

I was perplexed.  I just wanted to know when the plane left, so I could plan.  I needed to know the time.  I needed to know so I could get whatever I needed to get done before it was time to leave.

I know, I know.  What possibly did I need to plan and get done at the age of 5 or 6?  Maybe I needed to pack?  I don't know.  It does seem a little silly now.  But from then on, I tried to hide the fact that I "worried" about stuff.  Because I didn't want people to tell me that worried too much.  Obviously I don't do a very good job at the hiding part, because people still tell me that all the time.  People tell me, "You need to let go.  Stop worrying.  You need to hand it all over to God."

I have a hard time with that one.  "Handing it all over."  What does this mean, exactly?  I don't need to know what time the flight leaves, because I should hand it all over to God?  God will take care of details?  I don't need to plan stuff because I've handed it all over?

Yeah.  See?  I even worry about my worrying.

At work, no one tells me to stop worrying.  They like the fact that I plan and take of details.  It's my job.  When we have a guest speaker for chapel or a new teacher coming on board, they come to me to take care of all the necessary details to make it happen, and make it happen smoothly.  Because they know I'm good at that part.  (Well, that, and it's my job.)  But, no one says, "Stop worrying, Diane.  Hand it all over to God."  No.  They say - Do your thing.  Plan it out.  Take care of it.

Recently I've had an epiphany.  I've realized that there is a huge difference between planning and worrying.  I mean we all probably know that on an intellectual level.  But I realized that mostly what I do (at least now, at this point in my life) is plan, rather than worry.  And yes, I realize that plans don't always work out.  But, I don't think there's anything wrong with planning.

I think of worrying as more of the act of fretting.  Or tormenting yourself with anxieties and fears, or that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.  Right?

One of the earliest memories I have, is lying in bed with my hand on my heart feeling it beat.  I used to think that if I felt my heartbeat for too long, I would blow up.  Ha ha!  (Yeah shuddup.)  But to me, that's WORRY.  (And yes, just plain bizarre.)

But, planning is thinking ahead about goals, steps and scheduling.  This is more what I do now.  I mean, I will admit that I do worry.  Don't we all?  But I worry less now than I used to. 

Even in my present situation, with my husband losing his job.  I spend time planning how to improve our situation.  (Whether these plans come to fruition is not the point.)  It helps me to plan.  It helps me to try and figure out a way to improve our lives.  This doesn't mean I don't pray.  I pray all the time.  But, I don't spend a lot of time worrying.  I don't sit and fret or torment myself with all the 'what-ifs'.  (Yes, uneasy feelings rise up, especially at night when I'm tired.)  But then, I turn these feelings into constructive thoughts on how, with God's help, we're going to get out. 

So, for me, planning reduces worrying!

Somewhere along the way I heard someone say:  "Planning for tomorrow is time well-spent. Worrying about tomorrow is time wasted." 

So true!

Is There Anything Better

Than fishing?! On a beautiful Sunday afternoon?

Cole is apparently in charge of navigating...

Beautiful!

Look at Lexi. She caught the first fish AND the biggest fish. She loves outdoing her brothers! That's my girl.

Oh wait. There IS something better than fishing on a Sunday afternoon. How 'bout NOT fishing on a Sunday afternoon? Ooooh yeah. Today, for me... was nice and quiet. For 4 hours. I was alone for four GLORIOUS wonderful peaceful hours. (Yeah. I didn't go. I got an afternoon off. Aaaahhhh....Heaven I tell ya. HEAVEN.)

Note to Self: Next time, be sure and say 'Get dressed' before you say 'Go feed the chickens.'

At least he has underwear on.  And tennis shoes.  That's at least something.

Weathering the Showers

I get a daily devotional in my email box every day. This was today's. I LOVE this one. I've already read it several times. It's so applicable to my life right now...LOVE it.

"The Water Garden, by Claude Monet, is one of my favorite paintings. You will find the original in an impressionist museum, de l'Orangerie, in Paris. It is painted in the round and hangs in a circular room. When you stand in the center of the room you are completely engulfed in a luxuriant water garden!

My print, hanging over the desk in my office, is only a small representation of the delightful, full-scale original. If you study the painting, one of the surprises you will find is that the major part of the canvas is covered in dark shades of black, blue and green. These rather drab colors stand in stark contrast to the delicate pastels. Actually, they serve to highlight the beautiful florals, which appear rich and striking upon the deep, dark waters. At first glance, your eyes are drawn to the colorful petals; then you realize that Monet painted the dark tones to enhance the lighter.

Monet's painting has much to remind me about the water garden of my life, and of its Artist. First, it encourages me that there is a purpose and design to my life, and that perhaps, at times, I focus too exclusively on the darker portions of my painting.

It also reminds me that my Lord, the Artist of my life, has intentionally allowed the blue, green, and yes, sometimes even the gray and black hues to be brushed on my canvas for a reason. God uses these shadows to make my life richer. Often, when I look back on difficulties, I can see, now, his handiwork creating a brilliance of color and beauty from the pain and suffering. The Artist uses a multitude of techniques in our lives to help us become the people He created us to be.

Finally, I am reminded that just like the water lilies in Monet's masterpiece, God keeps the leaves and petals afloat through the muck, wind and rain that are part of the storms of life. Water gardens survive April showers and worse, and I will too, by God's help and grace." ~by Beth Donigan Seversen

It's Times Like These When I Wish I Had an Autoclave

Thursday...
Me: from the bathroom "Hey! Anyone seen my tweezers? I need 'em!"

All 3 in unison: "No, Mom. Haven't seen 'em."

Yeah, of course not

Saturday...
Me: "GUYS! I really really need my tweezers. Who took them? Give them BACK!"
Lexi: "We don't know, Mom. We don't have them."

Grrrrrr......

Monday...
*Cole runs by with my tweezers*
Me: "COLE! Those are mine! Give them to me!"
Cole: "Oh, ok. Didn't know they were yours. Here."

Gage: "Uhhhh, Mom? If I were you, I'd wash those."
Lexi: "Yeah, seriously Mom. You better wash them really well."

Ok. I don't have a CLUE why I need to wash those tweezers. But if you know Cole, you know that:
a) I will not ask him WHY I need to wash them. I just DON'T want to know.
b) But I WILL wash them. Oh yes. I will wash them VERY VERY WELL. And then I will wash them again.

Lovely Summer Evening

Three little words

My dad caught wind of the miserable situation we're in and called me yesterday.  I'm not sure why I didn't just call him a long time ago and tell him myself.  I don't know.  My dad and I have an....interesting relationship.  I love him dearly, and I know he loves me, too.  We're just...distant with each other.  It's complicated.

ANYway, he called me yesterday and left me a message.  It was something like, "Hi Diane. Heard about the hard time you're having lately.  I'm trying to get ahold of you.  Give me a call please.....*pause*....I love you."

Gasp! 

I love you.

Sadly, I don't hear that from my dad very often.  If fact, I don't remember the last time.  (Admittedly, I don't tell him nearly enough either.)  But he said it to me!  Even if it was just on my voice mail.  My heart leapt when I heard those words.  I love you!

So today, I've played that message to myself several times.  Just so I could hear that last part.  That 'I love you' from my dad.  It's funny, isn't it?  I'm 39 years old.  But still, I just want approval and love from my dad.  I don't think that ever goes away.

It also makes me realize that I need to mend some fences.  I need to make things right with my dad and I.  I've been carrying around some.....I don't even know what they are.  Some issues.  And I know it's time to figure out what those are and put them to rest. 

Anyway.

Today I did call my dad back.  And talked to him for a while about what he's been doing, and also about the craphole my life is in.  And then at the end?  I said, "Thank you so much for calling.  I love you, Dad."

And he said, "I know.  And I love you, too."

In which I whine some more about the latest crappy thing to come our way...

Friends and family have been asking me, "Sooooo, how is Derek's job search going? Any promising leads?"

Ummm...WHAT job search? He hasn't been able to even look for a job yet. Why, you ask? Because he has shingles. Yep. You heard me. Shingles.

Sigh.

Yes, Derek has a nasty nasty case of the shingles. The poor guy is in agony. I've never had them myself, but I can tell - they're HORRIBLY painful. He has them from his neck, all the way up the right side of his face to his right ear. He has them in his mouth, all over his cheeks and tongue, on his chin and neck, and even on TOP of his ear drum. He's in SUCH pain. His tongue is so swollen, he can't eat or drink or even talk. He has shooting pain all along the nerves of the right side of his face that radiate to his skull. AND he has a fever of about 103. Fun times.

So yeah. Obviously he can't look for a job until he's better. Even if he FELT better? He's contagious. So if he was lucky enough to get an interview, showing up and infecting the entire office with chicken pox would probably not bode well. So he's down for as long as 2 to 3 weeks.

So I'm holding down the fort again (still?) I get up at 4:00 am to feed and water the farm. Then I get ready for work, get the kids to daycare and me to work, work all day, come home feed and water the farm again, get dinner fixed and on the table, and collapse into bed to get up and do it all over again. Last night and the night before I was up all night with Derek. He's in SUCH pain. I feel so badly for him. I feel so badly for us.

Just when I think another thing couldn't possibly happen, it does. I just keep thinking...something good is going to happen soon. Sooner or later we're gonna catch a break. (Please Lord, make it sooner? I'm TIRED.)

I work at a Christian school. Every month we have 'character traits' that we focus on and teach the students. We post them in the hallways and classrooms. Even though school has let out for the summer, June's character trait, 'Meekness' is still up on the walls. I read it every time I walk down the hall. It reads, "Meekness: quietly and humbly accepting whatever God brings into my life."

So my prayer today, is help with embracing meekness. Lord? Help me with meekness. I'm not so good with this one.

I was talking to a friend yesterday, and she said that she loves coming to me for guidance. She said I've been through so much in my life already, that I give good advice, and that I have an interesting perspective on things. She said she has people in her life that seem 'perfect.' They have perfect lives, perfect kids, perfect jobs, or seem to, anyway. And those people aren't nearly as interesting to talk to, or nearly as knowledgeable on life. So she likes coming to me.

Wow, really? Ok. Well, if I make through this year, (after I get a T-shirt made that says, "I somehow made it through 2008 and lived to tell about it") I'm gonna hang out a shingle and offer advice. For a fee of course. Hey. I gotta pay the bills somehow.

I STILL have goose bumps

I had a total God moment today. At the grocery store. And I know I'll never be the same.

Cole and I were standing in the check-out line. I was in a terrible mood. My back was killing me. I injured it a couple of days ago hauling feed sacks, and it was throbbing. I was mentally going over each item in my grocery cart trying to discern if we really needed it. (Since my husband lost his job, this is what I do. Do we NEED that? Can we do without the expensive salad dressing? Peanut butter? We can do without that, can't we? Can we manage without those crackers? How 'bout the coffee? UM HELLO? No. WE NEED THE COFFEE.) Anyhoo, I'm doing this with each item in the cart, and I'm ticked that I have to do this in the first place.

Then I hear the most beautiful humming behind me. Actually, it was half humming half singing. (I couldn't place the song then, but I later figured out it was "On My Knees" by Nicole C. Mullen. Ironically - my new favorite singer!) So I turned around to see a girl in her mid-twenties or so. She was going through a wad of food stamps, only pausing to stroke her son's hair who's sitting in her cart. Her son looked to be about 5. And he had Down's Syndrome. The woman was smiling and humming and stroking her son's head. And smiling and thumbing through food stamps. I smiled, too, and turned back around to look at Cole.

And Cole, wise beyond his years at the age of 8 says to me, simply, "Mom? You need to buy her groceries."

There were 2 things that struck me right then as he said that. #1: To my knowledge, Cole does not have a clue what food stamps are. He's never seen them. He had no reason to believe that this woman and her son were struggling worse than we were... financially and in other ways maybe too. And #2? I had the very same thought right at the moment Cole said those words.

I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I needed to buy her groceries. I did. It hit me as soon as I saw her and her sweet son. God wanted me to buy her groceries. He wanted me to do it now, and there was no question.

This doesn't happen to me very often. When I come to a crossroads, and there is more than one path to travel, I don't usually know - I mean really KNOW - which way is God's will. I pray and pray, but rarely is there a clear answer. I realize that many times there is more than one right way. And I know that most times I figure out later that the path I choose was indeed God's will. But it's not usually a crystal clear thing for me. You know?

But today, there was absolutely zero room for interpretation. I knew. My job was to buy this woman's groceries. And so I did. Even though I didn't know where the money was coming from. Even though there is nothing coming in. Even though I pinch pennies at every turn to provide for my own family. Even though all of that - I still did.

The funny part was afterwards, as she was thanking me profusely, it was like, she also knew I was supposed to buy her groceries. It was as if we both knew, and she was just so thankful that I listened.

As we were walking out of the store, I had the most incredible feeling. It was like we were part of a much bigger plan. God used me! - little insignificant ME to carry out something He needed done. I felt honored and proud! And it was overwhelming and incredible and wonderful.

And then Cole said to me, "Mom? When God needs us to do something, we're just supposed to drop our other plans and listen. Right? Today we listened."

Yep. That's right. Exactly right. Today we listened. And, I'll never be the same.

I can be in a crowd,
or by myself.
and almost anywhere,
when I feel, there's a need
to talk with God, he is Emmanuel,
when I close my eyes,
no darkness there
there's only light.

I get on my knees
I get on my knees
there I am before the Love that changes me
see I don't know how, but there's power
in the blue sky
in the midnight
when I’m on my knees
I get on my knees
I get on my knees
and there I am before the Love that changes me
See I don't know how, but there's power
when I’m on my ooh,
when I’m on my,
When I'm on my knees.

~ Nicole C. Mullen's "On My Knees"

Love Birds...umm... I mean Love Frogs...

I was up early this morning (very early - like 5 am early ...*yawn*) watering the greenhouse, and came across these little guys:

See them in the back?  Here's a closer picture:

There's a little frog in the pot and a little frog on the wall of the greenhouse.  See them?  They sat there for the longest time and gazed at each other.  Ha ha!  It was so funny.  (Hey.  It was funny to me half asleep at the crack of dawn without adequate coffee consumption...)  Our greenhouse is apparently the happening place to be.  If you're a frog.  At 5:00 am. 

Because I need a smile...

And because I didn't want that last post up for too long...

Bomb's Away!

 

 

Ain't summer grand?!

No one's gonna be knockin' down MY door for the Mother of the Year Award, that's for sure.

I get sick of holding it all together.  I do.  That's my role.  ALWAYS my role.  Keep everybody humming along.  Make sure everybody's fed and warm and happy.  While I'm dying inside.  Sometimes I hate my role.  Today I was terrible at it. 

I snapped at the kids.  Everything was a struggle.  I worried about how we were going to pay bills and the mortgage, and blah blah blah.  Today I did not have faith.  And I was not patient.  I was not kind.  I was downright mean.

My son whined nonstop about not getting to have a friend over.  He whined about his chores.  He whined about helping me with the animals.  I spent the entire day getting the house in order so I could go back to work this week.  When I was all done, my youngest tracked muddy boots all over the living room.  And he flushed the clogged toilet flooding the bathroom.  And didn't tell anyone.  My daughter picked fight after fight with her brothers.  She broke two dishes emptying the dishwasher.

Finally I snapped.  And I screamed and yelled.  And I screamed and yelled some more. 

And so today, not only did I fail in my role of holding everybody together, I succeeded in tearing us apart. 

I can't do it anymore.  I need a new role.  This one sucks.  And I'm no good at it.

A Wonderful Side Effect from My Life Being in the CRAPPER

You know what I've noticed?  I feel more loved now than ever before.  Seriously.  Yeah, there are so many things in my life that are WRONG.  BUT, my friends and family have surrounded me with such a warm loving security blanket, and let me tell you - it's incredible!

My sister has always been there for me.  Always and forever.  She is such a ROCK!  But since my life has spiraled down, she has checked in on me EVERY SINGLE DAY.  Without fail. I am so thankful for you, Carol!  Without you, I'm not sure I could make it.  I admire your faith, your wisdom, and your ability to see through all the muck and get to the heart of the matter.  I love you!

I called my brother a while ago and finally told him what was happening.  My brother and I are pretty close, but it's not uncommon to go months without talking to each other.  I'm not sure why.  I don't think it's intentional.  We're busy I guess?  I don't know.  That's a lame excuse.  But since I made that phone call?  He's called me every single day also.  Every day.  He did not stand in judgement.  He has just been there supporting me.  My brother has been through some pretty awful times.  I am ashamed to say that I was not always there for him like he has been there for me today.  My brother doesn't read my blog, but my pledge to him is... never again.  Never again will I let him down.  Thank  you, big brother!  I love you.

My husband's family has been so wonderful, too.  His dad, and even his sister have made it clear that they are there for us.  No matter what.  Derek's dad has told me that he loves me as if I was his own daughter.  That was so...incredible to hear.  I love you too, Tim!  You are a dad to me.

My friends...oh my.  My friends were awesome before.  But now, even more!  Khristina?  You're the best.  We talk every single day, and you've been more of a help to me than you know.  You make me laugh!  And (lucky you!) you listen even when I sit on the phone with you for hours and bawl.  Thank you, my friend!  I appreciate you so much.  Heidi - that phone call the other night came just when I needed it.  Seriously.  It helped more than you know.  And Mary, your emails are my lifeline.  I read and re-read them sometimes many times a day.  It's an invaluable resource to me to have a friend that's gone though what I'm going through.  Your advice is amazing.  And so is your friendship.  Thank you!

I know I'm sounding like a Hallmark commercial here.  I guess I just wanted to express my gratitude to all you wonderful people, and so many more that have helped me and continue to help me along the way.  To quote Jen if I may, I feel like 2008 is about standing in a pile of shit without a shovel.  (Actually, I will be optimistic and hope that I'm here in my pile just a couple of months rather than a year or more.)  But you guys give me hope that the shovel is on the way!  I'm so honored to call you all my friends and family.  I'm grateful and I'm humbled.  You have all inspired me to be a better person.  A better wife, mommy, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend. 

Thank you!

We interrupt the general downward spiral of what's left of Diane's life to bring you these pics...

After we found out that my husband lost his job, we called and canceled all of our remaining poultry orders.  There was one that was already en route so of course, that one could not be canceled.  It arrived the other day....in the mail.

That's a box of CHICKS!  That went through the US mail!  Ha ha.  See inside?

Little yellow chicks!

They're only one day old!  So cute.

See the ones with the black heads?  In the picture below...  Those are the turkeys.  The rest are chickens.

It's amazing how cute they start out.  And how homely they end up.  Heh.

LOVE this song

My life is falling apart.  My world is disintegrating.  It's hard to find hope and joy in the day-to-day. 

I listen to Nicole C. Mullen's song, Call on Jesus a LOT.  She's my new favorite!  This song helps me.  (Wanna listen to it?  Scroll down and find the video on my right column...It's beautiful.)

Call on Jesus by Nicole C. Mullen

I'm so very ordinary
Nothing special on my own
I have never walked on water
I have never calmed a storm
Sometimes I'm hiding away from the madness around me
Like a child who's afraid of the dark

But when I call on Jesus
All things are possible
I can mount on wings like eagles and soar
When I call on Jesus
Mountains are gonna fall
'Cause He'll move heaven and earth to come rescue me when I call

Weary brother
Broken daughter
Widowed, widowed lover
You're not alone
If you're tired and scared of the madness around you
If you can't find the strength to carry on

Call Him in the mornin'
In the afternoon time
Late in the evenin'
He'll be there
When your heart is broken
And you feel discouraged
You can just remember that He said
He'll be there