A Peck of Gold

Farewell, Sweet Chattablogs

APOG is packing it up, and moving to nolablogs. Josiah has created a new terrablog domain for us South Lousianians, and I'm gonna break it in for him.

So, get ready to change your links for me, starting this weekend. There will be a redirect from my chattablogs url, so just hang on while we get it figured out.

Don't leave me, dear readers. APOG is a co-dependant blog and needs all the lovin' it can get.

We have abandonment issues over here.

One More Thing

I met Jeannette for coffee this morning. With the Short Ones in tow, I walked into the coffee shop and scanned around for someone who looked like they were looking for me. A quick wave from a stranger, and suddenly, Jeannette was more than just the author of Moot Thoughts and Musings. She was this petite and friendly girl, and I thought, hey, we could be friends! How cool is that!

It was strange, to meet someone for the first time that you actually feel like you know a little already. We got a table outside, and the kids toddled around looking at lizards and birds while I downed pure, undiluted caffeine. We talked (fast, in my case) about blogging, our lives, our plans, and basically filled in the blanks of a friendship that had begun online already. It was really nice.

I'm not a social risk-taker. I ease into friendships and relationships slowly, but I wish I was braver than that. I'm working on it though, and this was a conscious choice to move out of my comfort zone. I threw caution to the wind and decided that you never get anywhere if you don't pick up your feet.

And I'm glad I did. We had fun! I didn't spill coffee on myself, the kids didn't eat any bugs, and Jeannette was just like I thought she'd be.

Cool.

High Above

I love trees. The first tree I climbed was a magnolia. The limbs were wide and ancient and held me up to the clouds. I kicked off my shoes, and let them tumble to the ground. The bark was cool on my bare feet, as I climbed and explored like a monkey. Ruby red seeds in prickly pods fascinated me, and I plucked them out and rolled them around in my palm, and absently wondered if they tasted like cherries. I wasn't brave enough to try after all my mother's warnings. So instead, with careful aim, I flicked the seeds at the sky, and watched them arc through the air.

I was home.

Much of my youth was spent in those lovely heights. The solitary sycamore in our woods, the gentle mimosa near our drive, the sticky pines at my cousins house, these were the haunts of my childhood. The different textures and colors make up a patchwork of my memories.

Trees evoke all kinds of feelings in me. Those faraway on a hillside make me hungry. The green canopies look so good I want to eat them, like I was a giant munching broccoli. Live oaks, with their knotty roots and reaching branches, make me feel safe. Their trunks too large to wrap my arms around, so still and stately, make me want to sit, and think. Cypress trees, with their woody skirts and knobby knees, charm me. I think of music and dancing ladies and laughter and I want to twirl until I'm too dizzy to stand. Mimosa trees, so unassuming and graceful, make me drowsy. I want to lay under those pink purpley puffs of flowers and watch the wind blow through the branches, feel it through my hair. I can close my eyes and feel it right this moment.

It’s silly, maybe. But that’s okay. Trees make me happy, and I can smile when I say that, because I know it sounds a little goofy. We all have things that center us, that calm us, that make us happy. It doesn’t have to make sense, and that’s part of the joy of it. It just is. All you can do is give in to it.

On that note, I bid you all a good weekend. Enjoy the things that make you happy, because life is short. And if you're near the bad weather, be safe.

See you Monday.

Email Fiasco

Some girls collect shoes. I collect email addresses.

I don't like to give out personal information (blogging, irony, I get it). Anyway, when I created my latest email address, apeckofgold@yahoo.com, I played a little. As the user id, I put "Robert Frost", which amused me. However, it just confuses everybody else, who thinks they are suddenly recieving mail from a nineteenth century dead poet. Jeannette took it in stride, God bless her. Everybody else thinks I'm nuts.

And since I care what you guys think, (see? you DO matter, dear readers!), I'm ditching the offensive address. Begone, confusing literature reference! In it's place - apogblog@yahoo.com, a fun little ditty that rhymes, and sounds like something a frog would say. Which is great, what with me being a Crawly Amphibian and all.

No more playing around with dead poets, I promise. It's a shame though, because although he's no Robert Frost, I would have looked rather snazzy in Walt Whitman's hat.

There But For the Grace Of God

I had a "moment" a few days ago. You know the kind- where you suddenly realize something big? I'll explain.

I was strongly affected, like many of you I'm sure, by the Russian terrorist act at the school. I especially thought of the parents sending off their children for the first day of school, and to have something so horrible happen, and never see them alive again. I thought about it for days, how terrible it must be for them, and how frightened the children had to have been. Then, Sunday as I was reading the paper, I looked through the obituaries. There was a picture of the cutest little toddler boy, died at the age of two. I thought of his poor mother, how she must have been feeling at that exact moment, coping with the loss of something so sweet. How does it feel to have your heart ripped out? Then, on the way home that night, I was listening to Delilah and a young woman called in to dedicate a song to her brother, who was adopted when she and her siblings were in fostercare. She has no idea where he is. Her mother died, she and her sisters were split up, and she's had a very hard life.

I was bowed under. It seemed liked everywhere I looked that day was heartache and tragedy, and I was grieved. All these people were suffering something so big and I was lost in the pain of it for them.

It hit me then. God, how He's protected me from those things. How He's spared me and blessed me, and how ungrateful I am for that sometimes. I get caught up in what I don't have, or how "hard" things are, and the truth is, I don't even have a CLUE about how hard life can be. I have my health, I have my children, I have a family who's not perfect, but I know my brothers and sisters are safe and thriving. I whine about the little pinpricks in life, and I was ashamed at that moment.

I prayed for these people who have been dealing with the unimaginable, the unthinkable, and then, I praised God for His blessings to me. Not that I think He's cursed these other people, that's not what I'm saying. And I don't think that being a Christian is any kind of guarantee against bad things. But I realize, just how merciful and kind God has been in my life, for whatever reasons, and how I daily take His continued grace for granted. I was humbled, and thankful.

Next time I think of complaining about my little problems, I'm going to remember that.

Thanks for sticking to the end, by the way. I know that wasn't the cheeriest post I've ever written, but APOG is all about keeping it real. And sometimes, the real stuff isn't easy.

Happy Feet

Ugh. I hate those forty-five minute naps that leave you crankier than when you laid down. There's nothing like a thousand-words a second tumbling out of your preschooler's mouth to test your freshly wakened patience, too. I politely asked for a few moments of quiet to wake up, and she's granted me a five minute respite. "I have to go to the bathroom, anyway." she told me matter-of-factly. Well. Lucky me.

So, I'm checking email, drinking my one-a-day caffeine fix, and trying to work up a good mood. It's coming along okay.

I did some birthday shopping for myself today. Generally, I like to be surprised, but I decided to cut my loved ones some slack this year. I am actually kind of hard to shop for, even when I'm the one doing the shopping! The things I wanted this year were things I needed to try on, so I did it myself. Let me say, nothing in the world beats a new pair of New Balance tennis shoes. NOTHING. Oh the joy!! My feet are freaking out. I promised them we'd go work out at the gym today to show off a little. My feet haven't been this happy with me since the massage of 93.

Another generous gift to myself, (hey, we're a big believer in birthdays at APOG) is a new pair of jeans. I am highly picky when it comes to denim - almost impossibly so, I'll admit. I found some at Old Navy after a complete meltdown in the middle of the mall. I hate jean hunting, because being 28 (well, for a few more days anyway), I don't particularly enjoy shopping in the teenie bopper stores. But can I find jeans in Sears or Dillards? No. Their jeans are atrocious. They only have Mom Pants. You know the ones. They double as boat sails. Well, no thank you! I like the low waisted, flared and fitted, hey-she-still-looks-hot-after-two-kids kind. I'm not trying to be 15, but I don't want to be 70 either. I mean, come on. Cut a girl a break. I may not be getting Botox, but I'm not committing fashion suicide with Mom Pants either.

Kay folks, that's it for me. I'm feeling slightly less cranky (whaddaya mean I don't sound like it! You wanna say that to my face, big shot?) and now I'm off to do the Stuff That Needs Doing.

Have a good afternoon fellers.

Louisiana Blogs

I know this may come as a shock to some of you, but we do actually have internet connections in the Swampy State. Granted, there's Spanish moss hanging from our computer cables, alligators at the doorstep, and most of us have had West Nile virus at least twice, but we're blogging, dadgummit.

And now we have a webring. (scary, huh?) If you blog around these parts, join the Louisiana webring. Do it, or I'm pushing you off this houseboat right now.

Wordmusement

"Craptacular".

Sure, it's juvenile... but I'll admit I laughed. My innerchild enjoys derivatives of the word crap, what can I say?

Newt-y Girl

Hey!! I moved up to a "Crawly Amphibian" in the Ecosystem. Awesome!!

If that's not an ego boost, I don't know what is. I mean, come on. Crawly Amphibian is something to be proud of. I've got aquatic abilities, plus land privileges. Sure, I'm cold-blooded. But I can work with that. I'll sun myself, no problem. Do I lay eggs? Why yes, I do!! Jealous, aren't ya?

I'm calling my mom right now. She's going to be so stoked about this.

The Blogwatch

Aaah.. I finally came up with a decent name for this segment. Formerly known as "Why You're on My Bloglist", now we have a short, concise title, "The Blogwatch". This is Part... IV, I think. Yeah. Okay, Steve over at The Sneeze cracked me up from the get-go. His language can be a bit, well, colorful, so you may want to be careful opening this up at work.

I really like what he does with a game called City of Heroes though. I'll let him explain.

Busting Balls in a Single Bound

I've been messing around with a computer game called City of Heroes. It's a "massive multi-player game" which means hundreds of people are online at once, in this case running around as super-heroes in this 3-D virtual world.

The game itself is okay, but I found I had more fun typing silly crap to the other players. I took some screenshots.

Here's my guy, Capt. Avenger, attempting some of his special brand of chit-chat with the other "heroes" while they're trying to play.

Sadly, the Captain is often met with blank stares.

Thank you, Steve. God Bless You, by the way. And cover your mouth, please.

ING for today

Reading: Sarah, A Novel by Marek Halter.
Drinking: C2 (hey, it's not that bad!!).
Listening: Millenium, Russian Choral Music (oooh, cultural huh?).
Feeling: quite dandy.
Watching: 13 Going on 30 (J.G. I love thee).
Snacking: almonds.
Humming: Break Away, Kelly Clarkson.
Wearing: a new brown courderoy jacket (thank you Amy!!).
Cooking: garbanzo bean and ham soup (mmm).
Posing: seductively.
Paying: the rent.
Dreaming: of next Fall.
Smelling: quite nice, thank you very much.
Loving: my husband.
Anticipating: my burfday.

Mr. Eyeball (the Webcam)

It's A Good Life

First day of September. This month, I turn 29. Wrenn turns 4. Time- doing it's usual amount of flying and freaking me out.

This is the busiest I think I've ever been. Here's the rundown. I wake up around 7ish, get Wrenn to school by 8:30. Back home with Eli to make sure house/laundry is all picked up (can't have our babysitter see the mess!). Oh, and squeeze in a trip to the gym for an hour, plus grocery shopping and errand running, whatever needs doing that day. All by 11:30 - in order to pick Wrenn up from school. Get kids back home and fed lunch. Shower and get ready for work, take out something for dinner (love that crockpot) put the kids down for a nap at 2, as the babysitter is walking in the door. I am at work by 2:30, and finally make it home again by 11:30 that night. In bed by 12:30ish.

I sleep like the dead.

I know I can do all this, it's an artful juggling that is only possible under extreme necessity. But, I'll admit, I'm tired. And a little nervous about burning out. I realized this year, that in order to do all the things I need to do, I have to take care of myself. To have the level of energy I need just to chase after the kids, let alone all the other stuff, I have to invest in myself even when it's not convenient. So, that hour at the gym- it's vital. I need it, so I give it to myself. It makes all the difference in the world. The other thing, is this blog. It's the luxury item I'd take on Survivor. It's my big white canvas that holds the color of my life. I can create, lament, joke, whine, and escape here. I know it's stupid sometimes and I don't know who reads and who doesn't but I try not to care about that. All I'm doing here is taking care of myself, and that's my guilty pleasure.

People blog for a lot of reasons. I think though, there is an underlying need in most of us that causes us to use this medium-- like all artforms. It's expression, whether it's political, artistic, religious, musical. A place to say, you know what? I do a lot of things- I am a lot of things for a lot of people. But here, I'm just me.

I've let a lot of things go, many interests have fallen by the wayside for now. Genealogy, sewing, scrapbooking, all victims of my time crunch. What's left is writing and sweating. Sometimes at the same time. I read on my lunch break and coffee break, so that's just hanging in by a thread. But my life has been condensed and concentrated. But in a way, I guess you could say it's been focused, which is not a bad thing.

You know what? I'm happy.

It's a good life. Blog on.