What Makes You Happy?

I purchased Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project: Or, Why I Spent a Year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean My Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle, and Generally Have More Fun yesterday on my Kindle. She wrote that the first step in a happiness project is to "identify what brings you joy, satifaction, and engagement." You also have to decide what brings you "guilt, anger, boredom, and remorse," but I'll tackle that later (probably in private). After indentification, then you make resolutions and plan the "concrete actions that will boost your happiness." Finally, the last step is to keep those resolutions and follow the plan.



Happiness Project Plan
1. Identify the good
2. Identify the ugly
3. Make Resolutions
4. Assign Action Plans
5. Stick to the Plan

I have been pondering what makes me happy for hours now. I have a few things but know there has to be more! One of the things in the book is that you can "workshop" with others and see what brings them joy. This could spark your list making ability. Twelve items on your list could make for one item tackled each month. So tell me...what makes you happy?

Write On Wednesdays - Sit under a tree and write

WOW Instructions: Find yourself a quiet spot. Set a timer for 5 minutes. Take a look at a Tree Photo. Write the first words that come into your head. Keep writing whatever comes into your head. Stop when the buzzer rings. Do this exercise over and over if you wish. If you need further inspiration, go actually sit under a tree (and try not to melt in the Texas heat!). This inspiration brought to you by inkpaperpen!

PHOTO SOURCE

MONDAY: I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree. WHOOPS! Sorry about that Joyce Kilmer...that one is already taken. I sit here pondering this tree's life span. God made it as you said, but who dropped that seed to propagate His plan? Did good old Johnny specialize in only apples? Did slow-moving Bessy drop her messy? How old are you, Mr. Tree? One would have to chop you in half to see. Well doesn't that just chap your hide! Your demise I could not abide. What stories you could tell if I decided to sit a spell. Ding!

TUESDAY: OH MY SWEET BABY JESUS' DADDY! It is too hot to be sitting under this tree! One oh nine in the shade!! I could be sitting here naked and still be miserable...probably more miserable since the ants are trying to eat me alive. The squirrel is laid out like a flat pancake on the branch above, just staring at the crazy lady sitting next to his tree trying to write. Tree hugging in Texas in July is not for me! I am out of here! Ding!

WEDNESDAY: When we first moved into the house in Texarkana, there were trees everywhere on our almost-acre lot. A little askew of the middle of the back yard, there was a cluster of trees. Our Daddy, with love in his heart and probably mama in his ear, built us a triangle-shaped tree house in this cluster. It had a tall railing to prevent falling, and he painted it brick red. Because we weren't the most coordinated of children, Daddy also made sure the ladder was easy to climb. The way it was built made us think we had a two-story tree house with the floor to the 2nd floor acting as the ceiling to the ground floor. My memories are fuzzy (getting old), but I remember playing with Gayla and James for hours without fuss in that tree house. I also remember a billion splinters! And even though we had long since out-grown playing in it, I remember being sad when a couple of the trees were killed by a lightening storm later on and our little house was taken down. These are the memories I am most frustrated to lose and wish I had to hold on to right now. DING!

Well three tries at this week's prompt. I think I like the last one best. My artwork isn't half bad either! What do you think?

Home

"Home, I learned, can be anywhere you make it. Home is also the place to which you come back again and again." — Margaret Mead

Photo Source

To me, home is where ever Hubby Dearest and Darling Daughter are. It's where MyMama and MyDaddy dwell. It's where I can be with Bubba, Packer and the nephews. It's where I can live with MyGayla in all of our memories. It's also where Hubby's clan gathers and where our Chosen Family kicks it. If I can feel at home in all these places, then why do I feel like a ship at sea adrift without a destination on most days? I think that is depression...knowing without a doubt you are loved and wanted yet still feeling lonely and unfocused. It's wanting so much and not wanting anything all at the same time. It's also a lack of some hormone (serotonin, noradrenaline or dopamine).

What Would You Do If I Were You?

The Happiness Project Quote of the Day: "He who possesses most must be most afraid of loss" — Leonardo da Vinci

Hmmmm...this makes me think about what causes fear. However I will have to ponder that another time. I was walking this morning (made the butt-crack of dawn look like sleeping in and STILL was hurting in the heat!) and started writing the following in my head. One-track minds have to skip pondering if their masterpiece is to get written! And before anyone gets concerned about the last part, it's about when I am really old and well lived!


What Would You Do If I Were You?

Would you have taken that call
          as you watched our mother melt in front of you?
Would you have kept your calm
          and stuffed your panic down deep?
Would you have made the calls
          and relayed the news?
Would you have kept moving
          even when you wanted to curl into yourself

PHOTO SOURCE

          to protect what was left of your heart?
What would you do if I were you?

Would you take in everyone else's pain
          and hide yours behind to-dos and chores?
Would you paste on your smile
          and cry only to yourself at night?
Would you beg me to visit you in your dreams
          and rage each morning you went unfulfilled?
Would you keep moving
          even when you want to curl into yourself
          to protect what is left of your heart?
What would you do if I were you?

Will you meet me at the gate
          and throw your arms around my neck?
Will you introduce me to all your friends
          and help me get settled in?
Will you rejoice with me in His presence
          and dance with glee?
Will we thrust out our hearts to be mended and whole?
What will you do when I am with you?

Buttons, Thread and Needles

HAPPINESS PROJECT QUOTE OF THE DAY: "The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity." — Walt Whitman  [IS THAT A FANCY WAY OF SAYING "KEEP IS SIMPLE"?]

What a girl wants...

I was getting ready to doze off last night but my mind started churning. Darby is going to high school. She needs a high school girl's bedroom (currently pink and purple walls and displays of dolls). Could I create the primary colored bedding she likes? I can sew...wait! Can I? The only thing I have ever sewn was a wrap skirt I wore to Gayla's high school graduation and SarahG's Hedwig Halloween costume. Why do I have two sewing machines and all those sewing accouterments? Oh yeah, because Gayla always needed me to sew on buttons that had gone missing, hem pants that were too long, make shorts/capris out of pants that were damaged, etc. Boo-hooing ensued! Is this ever going to ease up?

Tell me where your chain of thought starts and ends.

Project Happiness...

Through all my blog hopping in the past week (I really am working...I am starting a blog for my company and am looking to see how other remodeling companies are doing it!), I found one called The Happiness Project. The author, Gretchen Rubin (love her sandwich!), has a book by the same name. If you're interested, go to her blog and read about this project. Let me know if you're interested in starting a group where we can "swap ideas, build enthusiasm, give encouragement, and – perhaps most important – hold each other accountable."

I signed up for the daily happiness yesterday and received the following in an e-mail this morning:

"The great thing in this world is not so much where we stand as in what direction we are moving." — Oliver Wendell Holmes

This put a picture in my mind's eye of a mountain with a winding trail and scenic overlooks. There are some of us who've climbed to the point we think is the best, and we've set up camp. There are others who are taking the trail around and around looking for the top. There even some who've gotten out their belays and ropes and are climbing up their own path. There are very few, but there are those brave souls who are even climbing their own path with no gear, using only their inner strength. We see some fall, stumble and sit to rest for a while. Some never get restarted. Some fall to another place. I see that as long as we are always moving in our chosen direction, we are happy. It's when we stop moving that our plan changes. Then I re-read what I've written and wonder about never reaching my destination...that's frustrating.

Write on Wednesdays--Facebook Status

I came upon a treasure of writing prompts! SCORE! Check out inkpaperpen and her "Write on Wednesdays". This week's writing prompt was to go to your preferred social media and find the first status post you came across. Then you write for five minutes about what that status jogged loose in your head.


"Why don't we pick up the phone?"


That status hit me up all sides and down another. In this world of technology-on-every-corner, we don't pick up our telephones and TALK to people. We text, we inbox and message, we chat. The only plus is that we are getting into video conferencing and skyping. When the telephone was invented, did people complain that visiting was becoming obsolete? Or was that natural progression that we didn't write letters anymore? Nevertheless, in this world of constant contact, are we really communicating?


You know how I know what is going on with my 14-year-old? I read her blog because her standard answer to an actual conversation is "I don't know" or worse, a blank stare/glare. Do you know how my mother knows what is going on with me? She reads my blog or my facebook status. PA-THE-TIC!


I will say this for technologically communicating. Since MyGayla and I mainly communicated through texts each day, I have from September 2010 until March 2011 of conversations saved. In the beginning of this nightmare, I would read her words every day. I had to limit myself to once every couple of weeks eventually because I would let them suck me in and hold my attention for hours, essentially reliving those months and forgetting to live in the present. Since hearing of several friends' phones needing to be re-set to factory settings, I am trying to record all the messages into my written journal should my phone take a dive. Nevertheless, I would give my left hand (I am a southpaw) to hear Sister's beautiful voice again. To visit with her face-to-face. To wrap my arms around her neck and hold on tight.

Calling All Friends...FOLLOW-UP (part 2)

Thank you for all the responses to my request yesterday for writing letters to Kasey Kahne on behalf of our family. It is no longer necessary to write to them though. I received a response finally from the foundation he started. Here it is:
Dear Hunter and Moore Family:

We are so sorry for the loss of Gayla. This must be a difficult time for you. Thank you for reaching out to Kasey Kahne to help carry on her memory. Due to the competition only policy in a race car on a race weekend, Kasey won’t be able to carry Gayla’s ashes with him during the weekend. However, we would be happy to provide you with garage passes and connect you with Texas Motor Speedway in hopes that you may spread the ashes as a family. Let us know your thoughts and we will connect you with the correct people at Texas Motor Speedway to see if they can help you with your quest. We appreciate your passion for racing and hope that you may find some comfort in your many memories of Gayla.

Sincerely,

Kasey Kahne Racing

Calling All Friends...

I need your help! MyGayla was an enthusiastic fan of Kasey Kahne and to say sister was an avid NASCAR fan is an understatement. She had season tickets at Texas Motor Speedway and built her home in Rhome, TX, telling our Daddy, “It’s just 10 miles from TMS!” Every Sunday (or Saturday) Gayla rooted for Kasey either in person or in the comfort of her home (probably wearing one of more than a few dozen Kasey Kahne shirts she owned). In addition to having a giant mural of a checkered flag and Kasey's FatHead wall design adorning her garage, Gayla also had an “office” in her home filled with NASCAR memorabilia. Her dedication to the sport goes on and on.

As a family, we have plans to spread Gayla's ashes in some of the most significant places of her life. I have written to Kasey Kahne and Texas Motor Speedway asking if Kasey could take a little bit of Sister's ashes with him during the November race at TMS. I am asking all who knew Gayla to do the same. Write a letter to Kasey; you can send it to info@kaseykahne.com.

TMS's response was sympathetic to our cause, stating, "We are sincerely sorry to hear about the passing of your sister. Her enthusiasm for the sport seems to be infectious. When it comes to individual driver requests, we unfortunately cannot help. These requests should be done directly through the teams and their PR staff."

Mama and Daddy are adamant that this be a private tribute and no publicity be sought nor given. Please state something to that effect in your letter to Kasey. We simply desire to symbolically grant Gayla one of her greatest wishes. Daddy, Mama and my younger brother James will be in the TMS stands in November, and I will be at home rooting Kasey on as I have done every week since that day in March.

I Want to DANCE!

PHOTO SOURCE

All year long, my family and I anticipate the return of SYTYCD! It is our summer guilty pleasure (except when it tried its legs out in a fall line up--DUD!). We have our favorites every year, but in the last two years, it has been dancers from the past that we tune in to see. My all time favorite is Twitch and Alex's Napoleon and Tabitha Hip-Hop. It's remake with Twitch and Ellen is freaking great too. I literally have tears in my eyes just from the joy that watching these dances gives me.

Dance is one of those things in life that brings me joy. I haven't done it in years but always latch on to whatever movie or show is on with dance in it. Yes, I watch the less than academy worthy movies...almost the opposite of a man with Playboy, I watch it for the dance scenes. When I was younger, I wouldn't hesitate to kick my heals up if the right song came on. Heck! Gayla and I spent one entire summer vacation watching Dirty Dancing with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Gray. Really! We would watch the pirated VHS tape that our uncle made for us, let it play to the end, bathroom and snack breaks during the automatic rewind time, and watch it again. ALL. DAY. LONG. EVERY. DAY. OF. THE. WEEK. FOR. WEEKS. Ask me if I can recite the whole dang movie!

I don't know where I was going with this blog today, but I just had an idea! I am going to include some form of dance in my Losing to Win Fight! For years MyChad has been saying we should take dance lessons together, and for years I have been putting them on my wish list for Birthday and Christmas. There's an Arthur Murray dance studio not five minutes from our home. I wonder if there are adult dance classes around us somewhere...

BTW...I am rooting for Melanie, Tadd, and Jordan. NOT IN THAT ORDER.

It's a Harry Thing

PHOTO SOURCE

Who would have thought that going to see the final installment of Harry would give me such trepidation! I am a fanatic...have been since the first book came out. I have read and re-read all seven books and been at the opening weekend of every movie (most came out on my birthdays). Yes, I am even the crazy person who tries to be at the first midnight showing sometimes. I do draw the line at dressing up like a character (except I am still waiting on SarahG to make me my Gryffindor scarf). So one guess as to why I am anxious about going to see my beloved characters battle it out for the final time on Saturday.

As discussed in "Reading Club" back in May, myGayla was not a reader but a listener with her audio books. The only ABs she wasn't interested in were the HP series. Gayla preferred to watch the movies, which to me was deplorable since so many details were left out. However she was one of the only people I know (MyChad is number two) who truly could just enjoy the movies for the wonderful, richly detailed, pieces of art that they are. She didn't look for what was missing or gritch about how something didn't fit correctly because the movie didn't explain this or that. She honestly just left the movie with a smile and wish that the next one would be out quickly.

For so many reasons, I cried when I saw the trailer for the final movie a few weeks back. One reason is that I know how many deaths are coming and one of those is similar to this horrible tragedy we are living right now. No mother/father should ever out-live her/his child...it's the worst kind of cruelty. Another thing that keeps sticking in my craw is that Sister won't get to see how the series ends. Am I crazy for considering reading it out loud in hopes of her hearing me? My faith says she's in heaven...do they have movie theaters? Does it really matter? I am just being silly. I know, but it's just one more thing that makes me mad and sad about the whole dang thing!

The Greatest Gift...

My Gayla was an amazing sister for many reasons more than what is about to be thrown out here. However, I am going to focus on one thing she did for me. Last November for my birthday, Gayla gave me a gym membership. She could see that my life-long battle with my weight was out of control, and she wanted to be my supporter in winning the battle by going with me to the gym every day.

I cried when she gave me the envelope, not because she hurt my feelings but because it was evident that Gayla was worried about my life. From November until March, sister and I met at the gym near her office or I went by myself when she was traveling. I lost 15 pounds and gained a whole new respect for how much Gayla loved me.

I tried going back to the gym and staying up with it after sister was taken from us. However, you cannot burn enough calories being stuck in the locker room or your car having a panic attack. Therefore I quit the gym and have been on a steady downhill slide ever since.

To see how this is going to change beginning this week, check out the additional blog I have put up...LOSING TO WIN! I'll still be keeping up with this one, but will be keeping track of my progress there. Wish me luck!

1948 Was A Good Year!

1948 was a leap year that began on a Thursday. In January, Warner Brothers showed the first color news reel, The Tournament of Roses Parade. NASCAR was founded in February. In March, the Supreme Court ruled religion and public education do not mix. The World Health Organization was created by the UN in April, and May...doesn't look like anything good happened that month...(eek!). Nevertheless June of 1948 got them back on track by sending the first monkey astronaught, Albert I, into space.

The best month of that year was July! July 12th to be exact. That was the day God made for my daddy (and Richard Simmons)! That was the day the world became a better place because there was a baby boy created who would become a man, a husband, a father and a grandfather. That man, husband, father and grandfather would teach his family how to love with the strongest of hearts. He would show them how to be dependable and hard working. He would make sure they all knew how to camp and fish. He would be the quiet force to be reckoned with in all of their lives.

Even though most people have never heard James Edward Moore speak, I love to hear my daddy tell stories. Maybe that's where I get that talent. He tells the best stories...and most of them are funny. Come to think of it, I think I have only heard him relate stories with an uplifting punch line. Just ask him about getting stranded in the middle of Texarkana Lake with me, or taking Sister fishing when it was too cold, or pulling that lady at Millwood in the boat "by the seat of her double knit britches." Ask him about Harold hooking a Bubba fish or the numerous stories about his brothers torturing him in his youth. Ask him about meeting my Mama and love of his life.

Today is my daddy's 63rd birthday. Today I celebrate the man by which I measure all men. Happy birthday, Daddy. I love you and send you all my hugs and kisses.

HUGE Leap of Faith

On a funny note...writing that blog title made me remember a funny from last week. Our Schnauzer, Faith, was lieing in the middle of the ottoman that I wanted to use to prop up my feet. I was sliding the piece of furniture over to me when Faith jumped more than four feet (I measured it.) to the safety of the couch with her Daddy.

Chad said, "Wow! Baby, did you see how far she jumped!"

I replied, "That was a HUGE leap of Faith!"

We laughed...uproariously!!

Anywho...onto today's entry into the life of a crazy mama. Darling Daughter Darby begins her blogging life today. Like I am sure her Daddy felt on her first day of Kindergarten and like I am sure we will both feel next month when she begins high school, I feel emotional and much like I am allowing her to jump out of a moving vehicle only because she asked me to let her do it. I know it's dangerous and could get her hurt (THANK YOU "DATELINE: TO CATCH A PREDITOR"), but at some point, we have to let her grow up and make some mistakes and some non-mistakes all on her own. Much like Faithicus, Hubby Dearest and I are watching our Darling Daughter leap from the safety of an anonymus life off-line to one of the unknown on-line.

The Law of the Land:

• No Real Names (I tend to break that one myself but will get better about making up nick names for everyone).
• No giving your personal information out online (again I am guilty...but really, I will take anyone out who tries anything with me...HAVE YOU SEEN ME?).
• Only one blog entry a day (it might take you all day to think of something to write).
• Do not use your blog as a place to trash your parents or any one else (I am NOT raising a "Mean Girl"!).
• I have to follow the blog ("...Private eyes, are watching you, watching your every move, do, do, do, do...")
• Do the right thing and don't embarrass your father and me (there are more rules but this one pretty much covers it all.)!!!!

I feel like I am caught somewhere between shoving her little birdie butt out of the nest and keeping her on a bungee cord so I can pull her back in if she starts to fall. I asked MyMama about this. She said that never goes away. FABULOUS!

I Hate Shopping...in a store!

PHOTO SOURCE

We are coming up on one of my least favorite times of year...Back to School Shopping! I hate shopping in general so to make me have to go out and fight crowds and this oppressive heat is just asking too much! Throw on the pressure of this being the year we head to HIGH SCHOOL, and I am down before we even get out the gate!

Why can't life be like the Jetson's? I want to push a button and the item of my want or need appear. Wait...isn't that what Amazon is? I need not venture out, fight the traffic, feel the heat, stand in line, or any of that! If only they delivered groceries (there was a time in early 2000's that Gayla and I ordered our groceries online and had them delivered to our apartment. They did everything except put them away! ahhhh)

If you're like me and Amazon is your store of choice, keep me in mind the next time you log on. If you shop through my blog, Amazon will pay me for referring you to their site. I have a Shop With Me page that lists a few of my favorite things, but you can also search for an item from any of my pages. Don't worry, I won't get rich off of this; they pay me in Amazon credits! Ha! The only way I make "real" money is if you click on the ads on my blog, and then it's a pay-per-click thingy that pays a few cents at a time until it banks $100. I don't quite understand all that just yet.

Darling Daughter, Guest Blogger

Everyone put your hands together for the best daughter and guest blogger to hit our little blog-o-sphere, Darby!!!! Rahhhh! WooHoo!!!

PHOTO SOURCE


O.K. As you might have read on Jaimee's previous blog entry, "Baby You're a Firework", I want to start blogging. Soooo...Jaimee asked me to be her guest blogger for today, and she told me to write about her and my dad since it's their fourth anniversary. So enough about mwah and onto Jaimee and Dad!

So...it's been four years...it's been a pretty good four years. I've, I guess you could say, "known" Jaimee ever since I was little but she wasn't completely ours then. And of course I love my real mom just as much as I do Jaimee. Anyway, I've known Jaimee for a while but just recently did she make her big debut in me and dad's lives.

You know how I know dad and Jaimee REALLY love each other? Because I can see it in everything they do, from one of their little tiffs to their little kisses all the time. And the fact they could put up with each other for four years. So happy fourth anniversary, you guys. Sorry if this was lame but this was my first. I LOVE Y'ALL FOREVER EVEN IF I EVER SAY I DON'T. (><)

R.T.C.S.I!

Longer title: Rude Twits Can "SUCK IT!"

My husband told me this would happen. Ladies, don't you just hate it when they are right! Since March, one of my ways of coping with the loss of my sister has been to send her text messages every now and again. Just sending my broken heart out to the air. No harm done since her phone was shut off right after it happened.

On April 3 I sent, "I can't stop looking at your photo. How am I supposed to go on in a world without you?" I told her about a dream on April 6 (the one where Chad said I was smiling really big and saying, "All of Gayla's horses are winning, and we are bowling.") I told her about Darby's first date and her birthday. In May I talked to her about our workouts and the races.

Now, in the light of day, I vaguely remember myChad's warning, "Baby, what are you going to do when someone takes over her number and texts you back?" Enhhh! Pish...AT&T won't give her number away for years. I'll have my act together before that happens. WRONG! I still may not have remembered dreaming about myGayla yet, but she sent me a text last night at midnight and called me this morning at 7:30 a.m.

I would feel bad for the little twit that took over sister's number if she hadn't been a ... well you know the word! It's kinda funny if you take out what you know about me and sister.

Last night, in a funk, I sent her, "I love and miss you so much. I need you."

Twit's response to my text: "Leave me the f#@$ alone or I am telling your wife."

To which I responded, "Oh God! I'm so sorry. This was my sister's telephone number until last March when she was killed in a car accident. I didn't realize they would re-use her number so fast. You may get a few of these as we've all been sending her texts as a way of getting through the grieving. I'm so very sorry."

Chad held me while I cried and laughed hysterically for the next hour. I told him, "This would be funny if it weren't so frigging heart-breaking. I thought I might have a heart attack when I saw her sending me a text."

Take some anxiety medication and fast forward to 7:30 a.m. Insert needed background information: Gayla's number is associated with a picture of her and her distinct ring tone; also she used to text or call me at 7:30 a.m. almost every morning to tell me she loved me and to check on our workout plans for that afternoon. My phone starts blaring, "I LOVE MY NASCAR WEEKENDS...I LOVE MY NASCAR WEEKENDS...MY DADDY WAS A RICHARD PETTY FAN...KINDA LIKE JEFF JR MYSELF...MY GRANDPA CAME FROM MILWALKIE...WATCHED JEFF TRICKLE RUN THAT MILE..."

ME: "Hello?" (almost a whimper)
Twit: "Who is this?" (snarky, snarky tone)
ME: "Oh, this is Jaimee. Listen, I am REALLY sorry." (meek, meek, meek)
Twit: "My boyfriend saw that text and flipped the F#$% out." (SNARKY!)
ME: "I am really REALLY REALLY sorry?"
Twit: "Yeah. Sorry for your loss" CLICK

More hysterical bawling and laughing while trying to get ready for work. Chad said something that made me laugh a little before I left this morning and to which my response was, "Yeah, well, someone forgot to tell TWIT I am a famous blogger and she just made herself blog fodder." (You really have to know me to understand the self-depreciating tone with which I said that.) MyHubby said, "That's my girl! I look forward to reading it!"

Funny, that's almost exactly what SarahG said too right before she told me about her dreaming of sister as a bikini model for God (awesome!)! SarahH said, "That rude person can SUCK IT!" I agree!!!

Baby, You're A Firework!

Another example of me being the brakes--FIREWORKS! Bok! Bok! Bok! I own my chicken-iness like a badge of honor. I keep my fingers and toes and sit WAY back behind the lines to "Oooh" and "Aaahhh" (usually by myself).

This has always been the case. When we were little, Daddy would give us each a few dollars to purchase our crackling, sparkling, popping booty. Gayla and James II would purchase the very cool "big fireworks" while I would buy $2 in sparklers and pocket the rest of my dinero...I mean really, you used to be able to buy 48 sparklers with $2 and how many flaming sticks of death can a girl really handle in one night (T.W.S.S). I did try to light ten at one time back then, five in each hand to make Pom-Poms. Rah-Rah, Sis, Boom, OWWWWWW! Stop, drop them and run away crying! I'm a bigger weenie than Spanky-dog!

Nevertheless, I married a firework addict and his little mini-me a few years ago, making New Years Eve and 4th of July fireworks a staple like bread and milk. With the burn ban in effect in every town around us, I laid down some law:

1. Everyone wears shoes and socks (NO FLIP FLOPS).
2. All hair longer than your ears is tied back.
3. No more than two people around the staging area (I called it the kitchen).
4. Don't lean your face over the firework being lit.
5. Make sure the lawn and roof are watered down.
6. Keep the running water hose nearby.

All wishes were complied with without a grumble. MyChad even went a step further and set up a line of chairs out of the line of fire. He added a mister and three fans. It made the heat quite bearable. However, I must be a magnet for debris because, much like last year, I was pelted with burning shrapnel more than once. I called it a night soon after and forced myself not to nag them from the safety of the house.

I laughed yesterday when the ABC reporter so seriously called fireworks, "the most hallowed of Independence Day traditions." I don't know about fireworks being holy, venerated and sacred, but I would agree that they are tradition. It was nice to see our 14-year-old, too-cool-for-the-rents daughter laughing and spending quality time with her daddy instead of curled up around her cell phone or laptop. I did my best to keep my nagging to a minimum, only yelling, "THERE ARE TOO MANY COOKS IN THE KITCHEN!" three (more like five) times.

Coming up: Darby asked if she could have a blog...hmmmmmm???

I carry myGayla everywhere I go

Watching silly movies makes me cry but reminds me of the important things.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Poet: e.e. cummings 
Poem: i carry your heart with me 

GOOD GRIEF...Most Likely to Bring Their Mothers Great Shame Is More Like It!

There is very little that is real about reality television when the market is over-saturated with the REAL HOUSEWIVES OF SURVIVING FAT CAMP DATING MISHAPS (my ode to Don't be a Menace to Society While Drinking your Juice in the Hood). I can actually spot the production formula pretty easily these days...just ask Chad how many times I tell him what is about to happen! Now BRAVO (more like BOOOOOO!) has announced its newest Soirée into the true-life. They are calling it Most Eligible Dallas.

This newest mother's worst nightmare focuses on the dating scene in "Big-D"... the dating scene if you're young, rich and living on someone else's dime. See the Hollywood Reporter's description as mine just kept coming out catty (watch the official video!). I can almost predict how they will shame their mothers and their hometown. Where's the reality of dating in Dallas in any of their lives? It's only been a few years, but I don't remember any of those characters showing up at nickel beer night or the dinner theater.

Let me ride my brakes here a sec and ask my fellow Texans about their travels outside of our great state. What's the first question people ask when they find out you're from Texas? It used to be, "How many cows/oil rigs/acres does your family own?" (Thank you J.R. Ewing!). There was once someone who inquired about the plural of "y'all" to which I responded, "I don't know! All y'all?" What new cliché will this endeavor bring upon our heads? Isn't it bad enough our "hipster" Governor "tweeters" and does the GWB head bobble dance when he speaks? Doesn't the world think we are shallow, ignorant and back-woods enough? Never in my life did I think it would be better to tell people I am from the Arkansas side of Texarkana!