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 |  My Blog....Pearls of wisdom and/or foolish mutterings.....You be the judge.... |
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A little of this, a dash of that......epic mood swings.......A LOT of foolish mutterings and occasionally a few words of wisdom. It's a crapshoot. You never know what you'll find in here... |
I got a kick out of Nada  's True Confessions blog tonight. So much so, that she has inspired me to write my own True Confessions blog entry. Just remember, after you read this, you must disavow any knowledge of the ALLEGED incidents. As I've mentioned before, I drive a big gas-hog Dodge Durango. It's a high-profile vehicle and I like being up higher than most of the traffic. I was thrilled that I waited until the year Dodge changed the body style of the Durango before I bought mine, because the earlier models look tiny compared to mine. (Look, I know what you're thinking. And I've already confessed to having a few errant "guy genes" floating around in my DNA. I like to drive BIG, fast vehicles and I won't stop and ask for directions. So, sue me.) I'm also guilty of talking on my cell phone while driving, although I now have a bluetooth enabled phone so I can use the UConnect feature in my vehicle, leaving both hands free to drive (10 and 2 on the steering wheel.) I have always been an excellent multi-tasker, so what I am about to tell you came as quite a surprise to me. I think I must have been coming down with something on this particular day and wasn't quite firing on all cylinders, so to speak. I was on my way home from work (thank goodness I don't do that anymore!) and decided to stop for gas before going home. I was talking on the phone to my sister (this was before I got my bluetooth-enabled phone) so I put the gas hose in my tank and set it to run while I went inside to get a coke; all the while still talking on the phone. When I came back out to my truck, I noted that the pump had stopped but both hands were full, so I opened my car door to put my drink inside, along with my purse and the car keys I was holding. Still deeply immersed in conversation, I placed my drink in the drink holder, put my purse in the other seat and placed the keys in the ignition. Here's where I sort of forgot what I was doing. After I put the keys in the ignition, I thought to myself, why am I standing outside the truck? What am I waiting for anyway? Duh! Still talking to my sister, I got inside my truck, turned the ignition, put it in gear and drove off. Immediately, I heard a loud noise that sounded like I had run over something. I slammed on my brakes and started looking around to see what I could have possibly run over. I couldn't see anything that looked like I had run over it. Then I looked back over my right shoulder and saw a man who was getting gas at the next pump frantically pointing to the gas pump I had just pulled away from. HOLY CRAP! That's when I thought to myself, oh, that's why I was standing outside of my truck. I got out of the truck and sure enough - there was that stupid gas hose dangling from my gas tank. I made the walk of shame into the station to let them know what I had done. It takes a lot to embarrass me, but this little episode did the trick. That's all I've got for tonight. Anyone else out there in Blogville have any confessions to make? |
| Life has a way of throwing us curve balls. I used to be better at fielding those curve balls than I am now. Maybe that's true, or maybe I just don't rebound as quickly as I once did. I still get up when I get knocked down, but I don't bounce right back up anymore. Sometimes, I have to sit there and nurse my wounds for a while before I stand back up. And occasionally when I'm sitting on the ground catching my breath, I sit even longer still and ponder whether I really want to get up again at all. Of course, I will always get back up because it's not in my nature to give up. The part I have to learn, it seems, is that often there is more than one path to follow. I tend to make snap decisions and to cling to those decisions with a herculean tenacity. Something along the lines of don't confuse me with the facts, my mind's already made up! Now, there was a time when I would never have admitted to that. But I'm older and (hopefully) wiser now, albeit probably more stubborn, as well. When I was younger, I just knew I had all the answers. I was quite smug about it, too. Self-righteous, some might say. My, how times have changed! I no longer make the mistake of thinking I am all-knowing. In fact, I freely admit that on the grand scales of life, the measure of that which I have little or no knowledge greatly outweighs that which I can declare that I rightly and truly know. That fact in itself may have a lot to do with finding myself upended so often of late by one of life's curve balls. You may be thinking to yourself, well, that's all well and good, but what point is she making? To which I would have to respond that I'm not sure there is one point in all of this self-reflection. If someone held a gun to my head and made me summarize this rambling miasma of words, it would go something like this: Recent events in my life have landed me in the Land of Oz, I am Dorothy and we're not in Kansas anymore. A big tornado picked me up, swirled me around and dropped me in a place that is neither comfortable nor rational. And to top it off, I have the distinct impression that if I were to find my way home right now, I wouldn't recognize it either. Enough of this navel-gazing rambling. Surely I must have productive work to do. Now, where did I put that comfort zone? |
I seem to be spending a lot of time blogging about my kids lately. Blog bragging or "blagging", if you will. I know that listening to a parent brag about their kids can be as mind-numbingly boring as someone making you sit through their vacation slides. But, that's where my head (and my heart) are lately, so I can't help myself. At least, unlike when you are sitting in someone's living room and they drag out the vacation pics, you can just walk away from my blog if you'd rather not hear me bragging on my kids. I'll never know - but let me warn you first: these are pretty amazing kids! You might not want to miss this.  Today I want to talk about my youngest son, Caleb - the baby of the family. Here is a picture of Caleb and his girlfriend, Tiffany. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Handsome devil, isn't he? I'm terribly proud of Caleb. He is completing his associates degree in business management and has been accepted at University of Texas at Austin. UT-Austin was is first choice of schools, in fact, I've never seen anyone so determined to make something happen as he was about UT-Austin. He got acceptance letters from other colleges - good ones, all of them - but he had his heart set on UT, which doesn't send out letters of acceptance until late April. I don't that I've ever seen him so happy as when he checked his status on line and found out he had been accepted at UT. To truly understand what an accomplishment this is, you have to know a little about the "high-school" Caleb. You see, when Caleb hit his teen years, he did what so many young men are doing these days. He checked his brain at the door, along with everything we had ever taught him. He started running with a really rough crowd, didn't come home until all hours of the night, got in trouble with the police and basically turned into someone I didn't know. Caleb has always been my thoughtful child. When all of my kids were young and still at home, Caleb was always the first to notice when I got a haircut (Your hair looks good, Mom. Did you get it cut?), the first to chip in and help me around the house and the one who always knew intuitively when something was bothering me (Mom,are you okay, because you seem really sad.) During his teenage years, I didn't see much of that kid. My Caleb seemed to have disappeared and as hard as I searched, I coudn't find any trace of him behind his beautiful blue eyes that had become so dark and so hard. I was terrified of the direction I saw him taking. I won't go into too much detail about those long five years from 14 to somewhere around 19, mainly because it pains me to think of that time. My husband and I both nearly lost our minds. There was one very astute psychologist who told us, after many sessions with Caleb and with the three of us as a family, that "sometimes these kids just have to grow up and all you can do is try to keep them out of harm's way until they do." I remember how much I hated hearing that. I wanted a magic fix, some sage words of advice that would stop Caleb in his tracks and turn him back around in the right direction, or, at the very least, for the doctor to tell us "this is what's wrong and here's how you fix it." I felt very defeated. I felt hopeless. But when it's your child you are dealing with, what can you do except keep putting one foot in front of the other, continue doing all you know to do and pray like you've never prayed before? So that's what we did, but it wasn't easy. Then one day, the sun started to emerge from behind those dark clouds. I started seeing glimpses of MY Caleb. Just small gestures at first, but over time, more and more of the son I knew emerged from the shadows. And now here we are, far removed from those awful times. I remember telling Caleb so many times during those dark days, "This is not who you are!" And I was right. The wise psychologist was apparently right, as well. Caleb did finally just grow up and grow out of all of that nonsense. That's not to say that my husband and I didn't do everything humanly possible to get help for Caleb, because we did. And I know that all of those things had their effect on his behavior, but ultimately what saved Caleb, was Caleb. My husband is fond of saying that as hard as Caleb worked at getting himself in trouble, he worked that hard and more at getting himself out of trouble and into success. I said in an earlier blog that my children had taught me many things. What Caleb taught me is that no matter how bleak or impossible something may seem, there is something better, sometimes much, much better, waiting just around the bend in the road. We just have to keep pushing until we get there and never, never give up. Congratulations, Caleb, on being accepted to University of Texas at Austin! I'll be watching for you to set the world on fire! Kay Jordan ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I don't have much to say today. Lots of words swirling around inside my head, but can't seem to put them all together today. So, in lieu of a post today, I'm just going to post a picture of two of my boys - my son, Eli and my youngest grandson, Ray. I love this picture. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Kay Jordan ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I don't know who "invented" Mother's Day, but whoever it was, he or she was a genius. Moms should be honored every day of the year, of course, but moms certainly deserve a special day all their own. I am a very blessed mother. All of my children live close by and I have a close relationship with each of them. When we all get together, we're a pretty big group. Here's a picture we took today. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Growing up as the child of an alcoholic father and a chronically-depressed, drug-addicted mother, my fondest wish was for a normal family. I had no idea what a normal family was like, but I knew what I had was not normal. The best thing I can say about my childhood is that I survived it. Although I am nowhere near perfect and know that I made plenty of mistakes raising my children, my goal was always to give them what I didn't have as a child. I was flying by the seat of my pants, making up the rules as I went along. I think that my children taught me as much as I taught them. I know that I prayed my way through their childhood and tried to learn from my mistakes. And I was blessed with very forgiving children! Now I have two daughters who have children of their own. Nothing blesses my heart more than to see what great mothers my daughters are to their children. And I have two incredible sons who, as one of them likes to put it, "are grown-ass men", but who never miss an opportunity to put their arms around me, give me hug and tell me how much they love me. My children are not only close to me, but to their dad as well, in addition to always being there for each other. I don't know if we have achieved normal. I'm still not sure what normal means. But days like today convince me that, if not, we came very, very close. |
| My last blog entry which was a list of 10 things heretofore unknown about me, included one item - #6 - that said I will drive all over the entire world before I will stop and ask for directions. Which prompted David McClain to ask, "Are you sure you're not a guy?" Which is pretty funny considering I have always said I have a few "manly" attributes, despite being a real girlie-girl, one of them being the directions thing. And I almost put that in parentheses after #6 on my list as in (one of my more manly qualities) but then I though better of it because I didn't want to give anyone the wrong impression, as I am quite proud of being the "Girlie-Girl" that I am. But now that the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, I would like to expand somewhat on the fact that I seem to morph into a guy when I get behind the wheel of a car. Except I don't drive a car - I drive a big-ass truck that only gets 13 miles to the gallon. It's a Durango and it is really a nice vehicle, even if it is a gas hog. What I would prefer to be driving is a full-size Bronco which unfortunately they do not make anymore. But I drove one of those when we lived in Venezuela (it was the last year they manufactured them) and it was a blast to drive. I'm a very aggressive driver by nature and even more so after driving in Caracas, Venezuela. Intimidation is the key there and the size of your vehicle is a key component in the intimidation factor. Living and driving in Houston also requires a certain amount of intimidation and a lot of fearlessness (which some would call stupidity, but I much prefer fearlessness, thank you very much.) Now, this may be hard for you to believe, given what I have just told you, but I went for years without a traffic ticket of any kind. Oh I got stopped many times, but I never got tickets. I always went with my gut when the police officer walked up to my car door and it worked - every time. Sometimes, it was just a simple matter of being extremely polite, sometimes I went with a witty quip, just whatever I felt was appropriate for the moment. But I never cried - cops hate that. Unfortunately, my lucky streak was broken one day and since then, I get tickets all the time. The day my streak was broken, I was flying low coming home from work when suddenly there appeared behind me a set of flashing lights. I pulled over and waited for the cop to approach and inspiration to strike. It was time for a witty quip, I had it on the tip of my tongue and was ready to bust out with it. It was brilliant. I looked to the left, expecting to see the officer. I was expecting to see his head and shoulders fill my window. Imagine my surprise when I had to look down to just above the top of my door to even see his head! My witty comment that was guaranteed to keep me from getting a ticket flew right out of my head and was replaced by I thought they had height requirements for these guys. No, I didn't speak it out loud, but I'm convinced he could see it in my eyes. It was all I could do not to laugh. He was like a midget, I swear. I just stared down at him. From that point on, it was all downhill. Not only did I get a speeding ticket, but my lucky streak was effectively broken from that day forward. Now I get tickets on a regular basis - it's kind of a family joke now. I finally got tired of juggling deferred disposition and defensive driving to get the tickets dismissed and went with a lawyer for all my tickets. Now I just scan the ticket into an email, send it to my lawyer and pay with a credit card over the phone. Last I heard, she was planning a trip around the world with all the revenue she's made on my tickets. Surely you must be thinking that with all of this talk of tickets and lawyers, I must have slowed down by now. Hell-to-the-no! In the words of the immortal Ricky Bobby of Talladega Nights fame, "I like to go fast! If you ain't first, you're last!" |
| Inspired by my wonderful friend, Debi Wharton, I am doing a list of little known facts about ME. * * * This may be harder than I thought. I tend to tell on myself fairly regularly. Let me think...... Okay, here's something: 1.My name really is Kay, but it's my middle name. My friends all call me by my first name, which is Kim (well, Kimberly, actually, but that's only when I'm in trouble or being official.) A few people call me Kimmie - we go way back. 2.I'm a singer. The first time I ever sang in public, I was 8 months pregnant. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to be able to sing like that with my diaphragm all scrunched up by the baby. I just sang like I had good sense. It was a Sandi Patty song - very high soprano. 3.I believe that the only "good" snake is a dead snake. 4.I was born with a super-hero mentality - I think I can save the world and often try. 5.I like candles that smell like men's cologne - my favorite - Diva by Tyler Candles. 6.I will drive all over the world before I will stop and ask directions. 7.I love to play practical jokes on people. Once, I put our cat (a full-grown sweet-tempered Russian Blue) in a Wal-Mart bag and handed it to my daughter, Kristen as she walked by. The cat was being absolutely still - until I had the bag over to Kristen. I gave it to her and said, "Here, I got you something at Wal-Mart." She took the bag by the handles and suddenly the cat started moving inside the bag. You should have seen her eyes! OMG! I laughed until I cried! 8.I convinced my co-worker once to put two very large grapefruits inside her blouse and then to go into our comptroller's office and ask him for some Duct Tape. It was great! 9.Back in the 70's, when jumpsuits with hoods were all the rage, I wore one to work and looked rather spiffy that day if I do say so myself. At least until I went to the bathroom and sat down to pee and didn't realize that the hood of my jumpsuit fell in the toilet as I sat down. I wondered why my pee was so quiet, but didn't figure it out until I stood up and my hood full of pee came out of the toilet and spilled all over me. Yeah, it was gross. 10.I drive like a bat out of hell and have the tickets to prove it. I'm just like Ricky Bobby, "I wanna go fast." That's about all I can come up with for now. If I think of anything else interesting, I'll let you know. { |
| Hello to all of you who have become so dear to me through this blog site. You may have noticed my postings have been a little scarce on here lately and my smart-ass comments haven't been appearing in too many of your blogs. I have missed you all and have logged on to read, even when I didn't comment. You have all become such an important part of my life - every one of you. I consider you all to be dear friends - isn't it funny how such a close relationship can be forged with people you've never met face-to-face, yet through our writings and our contact through this medium we feel connected at the heart? It is with all this in mind that I want to "sit down and have a heart-to-heart with my friends." You see, the reason for my rather sporadic presence on WDC lately is this: My heart is broken. I have cried more tears than I would have thought possible over the last several days and yet, as I sit here writing to you, I have still more tears to cry. One would think that there must be a limit to the amount of tears one could cry, but apparently that is not the case. Without going into too much detail and revealing information that is not mine to reveal, one of my children is going through a very difficult time right now. If it were possible, I would take this situation on myself, rather than have my child suffer through it. What we all want as parents is that our children would have a better life in every way than we did. We want to make their lives easy, absorb all the bumps in the road for them and keep them safe from all harm. Of course, the truth of the matter is that life isn't easy, there will always be bumps in the road, and there will always be lessons to be learned. We raise them to be independent souls who will go out in the world to find their own way and then we watch in horror and dread as they do just that - in their own inimitable way. We cringe every time they take a misstep or make a choice we feel is wrong for them. We want to protect them. Allow me to take this to a more personal level. What I want for each of my children is that they never have their hearts broken, they never have to suffer, that life never knocks them down and that whatever life may bring their way, I can still fix it, just like when they were babies. But they aren't babies anymore and I can't always fix it, no matter how much I want to or how hard I try. They will indeed have their share of broken hearts, crushed dreams, harsh consequences for their own actions and life will be unfair to them at times. There will be those times, just as there were for all of us, when life will kick them in the teeth and they will rail at the injustice of it. They will question why this has happened and not know what their next step should be. Those are the things I wish I could take on for my children. But I can't. I raised them to be independent thinkers, to explore life and not to accept things at face value. I taught them to ask why and to find the answers for themselves. I told them they could conquer the world. I taught them to face the world head-on, fearlessly and without regret. I taught them to discern right from wrong, not just the black and white of right and wrong, but all of the nuances of justice and injustice. I tried to prepare them for a world that wouldn't care about them as I do, a world that is increasingly more disconnected from common-sense and old-fashioned morals. But I could not prepare them for a world that I didn't see coming. The world my children inhabit is a world tilted off its axis, one in which the only absolutes are those of no tolerance and intolerance. I wish for a simpler world for my children and grandchildren, but that is not to be. So I will be there to help them pick up the pieces and to help them make sense of a world that no longer makes sense. And my heart will break for them - time and time again, my heart will break. If I could, I would gather them all close to me and hold them in my embrace, never letting them go to suffer the blows this world will inflict upon them. But that would serve only to smother them. Because there is joy along with the sorrow, there is victory in addition to failure and they will win more times than they will lose. My children will be the victor and not the victim, but only if I let them fight their battles. I can't fight the battles for them because they would soon become too weak then to fight for themselves. And again, my heart will break because I want to keep them from the pain of the battle. But just as I have my own scars and my own scorecard of wins vs. losses, they must have theirs. For it is those things that make us grow and ultimately, reach our potential. How I long for the days when my child could run to me for a band-aid, a kiss and a pat on the head as I sent them back to conquer their world. The stakes are so much larger now, the consequences so much more severe and life-changing, and a band-aid and a kiss on the head no longer hold the magic they once did. I must remember that I raised them to be strong and independent. I must believe that as they face the world, they take with them a piece of my heart and most importantly, the faith in their Creator and who He destined them to be. So I will step back with my broken heart and watch as they learn to fly with a broken wing. And though they will stumble and fall, they will learn to fly with that broken wing and they will be stronger because of it. And they will fly, oh yes, they will indeed fly. |
| DAY TWO OF THE MAVERIK EXPERIENCE ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Emboldened by the sage advice of my two Dog-Whispering Friends, aka David McClain and PlannerDan , I decided to risk life and limb once again and take Maverik for another walk. Well, actually, my goal was to take him for a walk today, as opposed to him taking me for another drag. Hey, guess what?! Those two guys really know what they are talking about. Of course, today was mostly a "sit" around the neighborhood for Maverik, but I felt almost like the Alpha Dog today. We have a ways to go, Maverik and I, but we made progress today. And I don't know about Maverik, but I was pretty darn proud of myself today when we got back home. Maverik was probably thinking well, that was a waste of time, why did she take me sitting around the neighborhood? What he doesn't know is how much this will pay off for him in the long run. If we can keep improving like we did today, Maverik and I may just become walking buddies because God knows, I can use the exercise and well, it just makes me feel good to say, "come on, Maverik, let's go for a walk," and see his eyes light up like I just gave him the best present in his life! So, thanks David McClain and PlannerDan . I thank you and Maverik thanks you. My son is going to think I'm a genius when Maverik and I get this walking thing down pat and show it off to him! (I promise to give credit where credit is due, after letting him think I'm a genius for a few minutes, of course.)Too bad I didn't know any of this vital information before Maverik took me for a drag yesterday since Hubby and I had to attend an Art Prize Exhibition last night. It's a yearly event and I'm sure everyone there was wondering how I managed to become crippled since last year. I tried to stay seated most of the night, but I was forced to walk from point A to point B at various times during the night. Even copious amounts of champagne did little to dull the shooting pains in my back all night long. I'm pretty sure I was near death by the time we headed home and it was only 10:30. I wasn't the most fun date last night, thanks a lot Maverik! But today is a new day and, equipped with my newfound knowledge, Maverik and I have set out on a new path to Dog Walking Success! YES!! |
| O H M Y G O D ! ! I just returned from taking my son's dog for a walk. More accurately, he took me for a drag. Allow me to refresh your memory about this dog/horse. His name is Maverik, he is a chocolate Lab who weighs about 2000 pounds and has the strength of a team of Clydesdale horses. And he likes to run. He does not like to walk and he certainly doesn't like to amble. I should have known I was in trouble when we left the house and Maverik kept leaping! into the air and looking at me with an expression that said, "Come on, let's go!" Apparently though, I am a slow learner, or just a glutton for punishment, because I didn't immediately come to my senses and turn right back around and go back inside the house. But I was feeling sorry for Maverik because Eli isn't home tonight and I knew I was Maverik's last hope for a walk tonight. More accurately, I was the most likely victim for a drag around the block. So, off we went down the street with Maverik jerking me along at the speed of light - or at least the speed of dog, which is way, way faster than the speed of me. Mercifully, Maverik would stop periodically to pee on a mailbox and I was able to regain my footing just in time to be yanked off my feet again as this super-powered dog went flying to the next mailbox as if his life depended on it. I'm also happy to report that it was fairly dark by the time we left the house, so at least some of my neighbors probably missed the show that Maverik and I were putting on out in the street. I tried to keep him in the street so that he couldn't wrap his leash around a mailbox post seven or eight times just so he could take off running and spin me like a top. (Yeah, that's right, this ain't my first rodeo, ladies and gentlemen, and I did learn at least that much last time.) However, it's highly likely that the fact that it was almost dark outside didn't serve me too well in keeping this little show a secret from the neighbors, since every time I was able to raise my head from being dragged, I tried to scream out Maverik's name with enough authority to stop him in his tracks. My screams had no effect on Maverik, but I'm sure they were enough to make plenty of the neighbors look out their windows to see what the heck was going on out there. At least they were all discreet enough to stay inside their houses to do their laughing out loud and not a one of them came outside and pointed at me and snickered as I flew past on the end of the leash. We finally made it back home and while Maverik ran to his water bowl (I'm sure he was very thirsty from dragging my fat ass around the neighborhood!), I stumbled into my bedroom tearing off my clothes as I went. COOL DOWN...MUST COOL DOWN... I was thinking as I drug myself to the bathroom sink to splash cold water on my face, my head, my chest, anywhere and everywhere in a desperate attempt to bring my body temperature back down to a level somewhat lower than the surface of the sun. My labored breathing finally slowed enough for me to assess my injuries and I'm happy to say that I think I didn't fare too badly after all. My right arm (the leash-holding arm) looks to be only about 4 inches longer than my left arm, the toes of my shoes are scuffed from dragging on the ground (but that's better than MY own toes being scuffed), I think my neck and back may be okay after only 5 or 6 days in traction and the windburn on my face from flying through the air should heal up nicely in a few days. You'll be happy to hear that Maverik is sleeping peacefully beside me as I write this. He's probably having sweet dreams of dragging me behind him. Ha! That's what he thinks. Tomorrow, I'm going to DRIVE him for a walk. I'm almost certain that my Dodge Durango can keep up with him. |
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I'm so far right the Tea Party looks like a bunch of hippies!
