The Hiding Place

When I was nine or ten years old, there was a particularly fierce storm system blowing through our area. Tornadoes were a real possibility and after some discussion about the sturdiness of the trailer we lived in, my parents packed up the three of us kids and drove us all down the road to our church.

I remember feeling terrified as we left our home – I had just read Night of the Twisters (not the most comforting book for a skittish kid) and the storm seemed like it was out to get us. It was a relief to get to the safety of the church – I felt better as soon as my dad unlocked the doors and ushered all of us inside the bright foyer.

While my parents and some of my aunts and uncles were in the sanctuary, playing instruments and singing, I sat in the space beneath my Papa’s desk. My dad propped a mattress up against the open side of the desk, creating a little dark cave. I felt safe with my flashlight and a Sweet Valley High book…and ended up sleeping through the rest of the storm.

Nights like these happened fairly often while I was growing up -- when my dad pastored a church on the coast, he’d open up the building for any members who needed a place to stay whenever tropical storms or hurricanes came through. With the wind roaring outside, we’d gather in the fellowship hall and play board games, watch weather reports on a tiny static-filled black and white tv, and talk over the sound of the pouring rain. Even after the electricity went off and we were stifling hot, it felt better to be there in the four walls of the church.

These days, when bad weather arrives, I walk around my house, looking out of the windows every other second and listening to the local news. I don’t get to run to the church or anywhere else. I have to hold my ground and tell my kids that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

But, lately, I am afraid.

While I drink my coffee and feed Kailey her mixed fruit and rice cereal, I turn on the news. I watch for a few minutes, which is long enough to put a lump of dread in my stomach, and change the channel to one of my TiVo’d episodes of The West Wing.

It isn’t just the economy – there are the random shootings, the always-evolving crisis of the Middle East, the shaky health-care system. And we all have our personal worries – car accidents, deaths in our families, illnesses, debt, the safety of our kids.
With all of that in mind, who doesn’t feel like running away to some safe haven? The question is: is there a refuge? Where, in this world of unrest, can we find security?

Looking back, it wasn’t those church buildings that made me feel so safe. It was the time I had spent there, peaceful in the presence of God. It was the word of God, proclaimed from the pulpit, affirming God’s power and sovereignty. It was there, in that church, that I was certain of God’s close proximity. It was there that I was reminded again and again of His love and protection, of the way He always brings good to those who trust Him. When I was hiding beneath my grandfather’s desk, I was really hiding in the shadow of the Almighty, secure under His wings.

Fear is corrosive; it eats away at us, bit by bit, day by day. And fear is sneaking in through the news, through the movies we watch, through the forwards in our in-boxes. It invades our minds and highlights worries…and when it’s there, we get so confused and anxious that we forget to seek shelter. We forget that there is a place of peace in the middle of the chaos…we forget that we do have a place to run. We forget that our trust is in a loving Father. He wants to take the anxiety and the fear from our hearts…He wants us to know that the downward spin life seems to be taking does not shake Him. He is still in control. He is still our refuge.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”……..”Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.” Psalm 91: 1-2, 14-16

Anti-Scrooge

Thought I'd share the song that finally kindled the Christmas spirit for me...thanks, Casting Crowns for this awesome version of "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day". Also, I finally heard Faith Hill's "A Baby Changes Everything". Amazing. The lyrics hit home for me. And, last but not least -- my favorite Christmas song performed by David Phelps. This one literally takes my breath away.
Enjoy!

For All of You Introverts Out There

As I am waging a war against a very angry cold and had to make it through a round of immunizations for Kailey today (hate. the. shots.), I don't have much energy left for thinking original thoughts. So it's the perfect time to share someone else's blog, which I happen to greatly enjoy...welcome to Shrinking Violet Promotions. It's a blog about navigating the world of marketing and writing as an introvert...and their current project is compiling an official Introvert's Bill of Rights. Awesome, right? I totally want to join the revolution...dare to be silent! Dare to be alone! Dare to wear iPods at social events! Woo! Fight for your right to...um...not party!

For Our Viewing Pleasure

At the end of a very long day(that isn't over yet), which concludes a very long week(that isn't over yet), I feel like stealing a minute to relax...so let's watch one of the classic moments from one of my all time favorite shows, the Cosby Show. Rudy's baaaaabyyyyyy never fails to make me smile! And, if you're so inclined, please dance and sing along.

Just For Fun...

So far I love the month of March! Those last days of February were truly February-ish - all cold and white and gloomified. But with March came the sun! And sixty to seventy degree temperatures! It makes me happy. Being outside with the boys and inhaling that subtle scent in the air (slight, earthy, promises of budding trees) gets me in that flower-planting frame of mind, which it definitely isn't time for yet. But, all the same, I want to drive to the nearest store, buy new gardening gloves, and pretty up my depressed yard. I truly hope that in Heaven, in one facet or another, we'll still get the essence of the joy the whole winter to spring change brings...or maybe it'll just feel like that all the time, since Heaven is our eternal spring...maybe we'll always feel like jumping around and digging our toes into gold-dusty dirt....

And I found a fun, silly link through all of the quadrillion pregnancy emails I'm getting...Look Who's Prego! Since I'm getting rounder and rounder by the millisecond, I figured I'd give everyone else a chance to see how they'd look if they were pregnant, too....go on. You know you want to try it.

Lastly...this is a bit belated, but everyone should go check out Heather's fun question on her blog...she poses an interesting literary challenge. And I can totally agree with her pick!

Happy Monday, everyone!

For Your Fancy

In the course of researching my current work in progress, there are a few key areas that have captured my imagination.

My favorites, if I had to choose, would be the legends that revolve around a certain section of Chapel Hill. When I attended UNC, my dorm was on the very edge of North campus, across from a wonderful historical district (another side of the dorm had the marvelous Paul Green Theatre, site of my work-study job, and the other had the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery - a most fascinating stretch of history). Anyway, my dorm-mates and I would cross over to go walking/jogging/procrastinating in the historical district on this stretch of residential dream-fodder...stately old houses, friendly old trees, and amazing gardens...but all sort of naturally grown. There is none of the immaculate, matching, obviously methodically planned feel a lot of modern neighborhoods have.

One day we kept following the path at the end of Gimghoul Lane until it went uphill into the forest...which immediately makes you feel as if you've stepped far away from Chapel Hill, NC. Wikipedia says that Glandon Forest is a mystical place inhabited by knights and miscreants...there's an actual cliff - a plethora of trees and flowers - and a castle.

Obviously, this is something you don't stumble across every day of the week. My mind began spinning and I had to know - how does something like this castle fall in the midst of small-town North Carolina?

It so happens that this castle was built in 1924 (legend has the stone was put into place by French artisans) at the wish of the Order of the Gimghoul...a secret society founded in 1889 and made up of UNC's most prominent male students and faculty. The Order was founded on the principles of Arthurian chivalry and knighthood....and most importantly, on the tragic story of Peter Dromgoole.

There's a large, flat rock close to the castle - large enough to comfortable seat a few people - and it's covered with a red stain. I know it's there - I've seen it myself. Where did the stain come from?

It started with a young student from Virginia attending the university in 1833. His name was Peter Dromgoole and in the spring of his freshman year, he fell in love with a beautiful girl named Fanny. They'd meet on the wooded cliff near campus, sitting on 'their' rock and whispering all of those things people newly in love whisper...and everything was going just as planned until Peter noticed a friend of his looking a little too closely at his Fanny. Jealousy and indignation took Peter over as this friend began to make his feelings known...and a duel was planned.

They met at midnight on the cliff, their friends all there to bear witness - but things spun out of control and Peter was killed. They hastily moved his body from the rock where he lay bleeding and buried him in a shallow grave.

Fanny had no idea what had happened - daily she would return to 'their' rock, wondering where the red stain had come from - her heart breaking when Peter failed to meet her.

Legend says that the lovers haunt their rock and their forest...and I wonder if they ever run into the other famous ghost of UNC, an Irish writer named Jack who died in the 1930s of alcoholism and is said to roam down Gimghoul Lane and through the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery looking for company.

So a secret society was founded on the tragedy of young love...and the castle is a tangible memorial to that long ago sorrow...it's enough to keep my imagination spinning!

If you'd like to find out a little bit more for yourself (there are actual public records available on the Order of the Gimghoul, which reveals those first members), click!

When God Colors Outside of the Lines

In the early-ish morning, I was watering my roses and daisies using the water hose (and watering myself in the process. I really need to remember that we need a nozzle that actually completely fits onto the hose.) I was having a pretty good time, actually, enjoying the warm morning and all of my pink and yellow blooms...and I noticed that every time I sent the spray of water soaring in this certain spot by the dogwood tree, a clear rainbow suddenly appeared...just glittering there within the suspended droplets...
I know it's the laws of light and prisms and this and that...but whatever the explanation man has come up with, I prefer to think of rainbows as mysterious, color infused whispered promises of God stretched across the sky...and when they show up in the spray of my average (leaking) water hose, I just have to smile - delighted and dazzled.

Brand Spankin' New Babies

Cat, appropriately, had kittens on Easter Sunday. Three, in fact - two completely white and one gray, just like her. She actually had them on the front porch on her bed in the middle of a family cook-out, so it was a big event. They fit in the palm of my hand and are not doing much besides sleeping and crawling all over each other in their house (also known as the recycling bin).

Normally this would be a fun thing - kittens are so cute. Adorable and cuddly...but. This. Is. Me. And the thought of new kittens? It makes me anxious.

I should start with how we came to have Cat in the first place. It was an accident, from start to finish. (I know that Cat isn't what you'd call an imaginative name for, well, a cat- but things didn't work out when I tried to actually give her a real title. I called her Scarlett [as in O'Hara]for days - a, she has amazing green eyes and b, she proved herself to be beautiful and strong -but Sean heard me call her Scarlett and I was thoroughly scolded. "Mommy, dat is not Scarwett. Her name is Cat. " Of course. Pardon me. Anyway - she has remained Cat. ) I found her underneath our front porch steps about a year and a half ago, barely more than a kitten and with an injury that looked permanent. Her entire back leg was just hanging on and much of her backside was just exposed muscle...she had been through a rough encounter with a car or a dog or something. We decided to feed her and make her comfortable until we found a place to take her...she wasn't scared of us and seemed happy as could be to have attention. And...almost two years later we are still feeding her. She lives on the front porch and follows us around outside like she's a puppy. I am still doing my best to not get attached to her (or, at least, to not acknowledge the fact that I'm attached to her).

Shall I explain? I will - but please don't judge me wholly upon the facts about to be revealed. I do not allow any of it to happen on purpose. I love animals, I really do.

But I'm not allowed to have pets. Let's talk about a little thing my family calls 'the curse'. To be fair, I have to warn you that some of the following facts are sad. And maybe even a bit PG-13. Okay, a few highlights of Christie's Pet History:

It started long ago. Like all children, there came a time when I wanted a pet. My mom has never been a big fan of fur-shedding animals in the house, so we started out with a simple goldfish.

24 hours. Fish, meet toilet bowl.

Now, I know what you're thinking. A fish is a fish. Fish die pretty easily. True enough.

Let's go on.The next animal we took in was a beautiful rabbit - black and white with the cutest tail. It had belonged to my friend Kristen, who had an array of animals at her place - rabbits, horses, dogs, etc., etc. I took it home and my dad made a wonderful home for it in the back yard - a large cage with plenty of room for Scamper.

One afternoon, I skipped to Scamper's cage to deliver dinner and water...it took a minute to register that part of the cage has been broken. When I looked inside, Scamper's head was lying oddly near her food dish...and the rest of her body was on the other side of the cage. She was decapitated. I have never run so fast in my life as I did that day...I think I screamed all the way back into our house.

So. Next. Cat. Ferocious dog next door. End of cat.

Another rabbit. We had to give this one away when we moved...my uncle took him and sadly informed us months later that he had been acting strangely and had some sort of tumor. He'd have to be put to sleep.

I'll fast forward to high school.My boyfriend gave me a kitten. She was gray and teeny...I named her Belle and let her sleep on my pillow. She arrived potty-trained (um, why can't we receive children that way?) and I loved having her around...however, my mother didn't appreciate kitten claws in her furniture. She was given the boot to the fenced in back yard.

I didn't take it well, and neither did she. She whined at the back door constantly, and I was all upset thinking about how confused and lonely she must have felt. So I decided to give her up.

What happened next was no one's fault...it was just one of those things that happen.To the absolute horror of those kind people who took her in, she 007'ed into the clothes dryer during a round of laundry. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

Since I've moved out of the house, my family has tried the dog thing...they have come to sad ends, as well.

So those fragments of my history should prove why I'm shocked that Cat is still around and why I'm so nervous about these babies. I really need to find a shelter that will take them after they're weaned...perhaps some nice folks can adopt them.

I'm trying to enjoy them while I'm here, but I'm sort of reminding myself of how I acted when the boys were newborns...sort of constantly peeking in to make sure that they're still okay. I know that I'll eventually have to get over this scared of pets thing...the boys both adore animals, especially dogs. And I know they'll want one of their own, some day.

Maybe I'm being silly. If I really tried to analyze it, I might say that it's a symptom of a deeper sort of worry about death and separation in general...so with that thought, I guess I have to look at this thing like everything else.

This world we live in is a temporary state of being...no one can predict tomorrow. We have to live the day we have now...we have to love and give of ourselves while we can...in spite of the possible heart aches. Hmmm. This life thing is risky business, isn't it?

So I'm guardian to three new Easter-ish kittens. And maybe I'll just go ahead and like them.

Yummylicious

There is nothing quite like devouring a bowl of strawberries...with cool whip, with chocolate, with a light sprinkle of sugar...if people had official fruits and trees and flowers and such, like states, the strawberry would be my official fruit. (And while we're on the fruit thing, you should click http://humaninspired.blogspot.com/2007/04/would-you-like-to-sample-our-avocado.html to learn a little fruit trivia fresh from California...)

I have officially taught Christian the joy in this deliciousness. He ate so many strawberries for dessert tonight that I think his fingertips and his chin may be permanently dyed red. Literally, strawberry after strawberry after strawberry...going "mmmmm" the entire time. (I think I may have heard a mumbled version of "delicioso" in there, too. Thanks, Dora the Explorer.) So I have handed down the strawberry obsession.

At times like these, I feel that I am fulfilling my duty as his guide in this big ol' world.

Mid-Morning Conversation

You need a little back story to understand this chat between Carrie and I...

A, Neil chopped down a tree in our back yard earlier this week. (with an ax and a garden hose. long story.)
B, I was contemplating a weekend trip to see my parents and
C, this week has also brought an exorbitant amount of ants into my house. I called our pest control place that does our bi-monthly spraying and told them I needed immediate assistance. He went underneath the house and reported that he had never seen so many ants in his entire working career. There were 10, maybe 15, colonies just scurrying around like they're paying the mortgage on the place.
D, we were a bit bored (the pre-lunch lull). Ok. We weren't all that bored. This is just normal behavior for the two of us. If we're nuts, at least we're the same kind of nuts. (But we prefer the politically correct term of 'quirky'.)

Here you go. A peek into our chat-life...


Carrie: another reason to retreat - invading ant army!

me: i'm sort of scared to leave the front, though...if i'm not here killing as I go, will they flourish and claim my house as their kingdom? Sort of like a conquistador?
Napoleon-ish?
Hitler-like?

Carrie: I don't know - I would say Hitler-like. Alexander-like.
Taking over the known world.

me: b/c at this point, i'm pretty sure they have it all mapped out. strategic in their little ant tents with little ant lanterns.

little ant spears and arrows

Carrie: little ant swords

me: little ant grenades
little ant cannonballs

Carrie: (I had that at the end of my sentence and took it off!)
little ant trojan horses

me: little ant flame throwers

Carrie: little ant shields!

me: little ant suits of armor

Carrie: little ant chainmail
(great minds...)

me: :)
little ant kamikaze planes

Carrie: I seriously think they are waging a war down there just like this, with little ant generals and all.
They use roly-polies as beasts of war.
they're pre-armored!

me: The war started because when the tree fell in the back yard, they took it as the Apocalypse -- they hid out in the nearest bomb shelter they could find and now they're having it out to take control of the post-apocalyptic world...
holy cow. little ant Hummers.

Carrie: olil!
made by, who else? Assembly lines of spiders.
They have the multiple arm thing going on.

me: ha! totally can see it...and they're biding their time, secretly waiting until the ants annihilate themselves so that they can take over...faulty wiring and such in the Hummers, you know?
And the ladybugs are like the elves, innocent and running away to find a peaceful paradise...using their soulful powers to save the grasshoppers and fireflies.

Carrie: oh, of course. Ladybugs abhor conflict.

me: of course. not like the regular beetles, who are eagerly drafted. can you imagine fighting a stinkbug?

Carrie: ew. no.
the beetle armies probably use smokebomb mushrooms as weapons.

me: makes perfect sense...
and they recruit mosquitoes to fly over the smoke and pour blood over the enemy, as to further confuse and disgust them.

Carrie: EW.

me: mosquitoes do it just for the fun of it. they're cold hearted, cruel sorts. they don't care which side wins, as long as they can distribute ugliness.

Carrie: I so believe that. That's one of Josh's questions to ask God. Why do they exist?

me: I think when Lucifer fell from Heaven and was spying on the newly created earth, he talked the mosquito into turning his abilities for evil...snakes are very convincing. they probably have a deal. snake won't eat mosquito if mosquito will annoy the heck out of humanity...originally, they were probably supposed to suck up juice from honeysuckles and gently distribute it among the squirrels.


And then we parted ways for lunch...and I spent the rest of the afternoon outside with Sean and Christian- pretending to have superpowers, looking for bugs in the grass, and playing a strange combination of football and tag.
It's official.
I've turned into an 8 year old boy.

Spring! Spring! Spring!

Spring is officially in gear!!! This time of the year is bursting with fresh scents, bright colors, and an overall feeling of hopeful happiness. I thought I'd celebrate by throwing a little e.e. cummings celebration, complete with decorations. e.e. is one of my favorite poets and God is my favorite visual artist...so it's a perfect way for me to start the season. From me to you - a blogged bouquet.

O sweet spontaneous

O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the doting
fingers of
prurient philosophies pinched
and poked
thee
has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy
beauty how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy
knees squeezing and
buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
but
true
to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover
thou answerest
them only with
spring



in time of daffodils
in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me

i carry your heart with me

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)

i am a little church
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)



i thank you God for most this amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
wich is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Recap of My Brain

It's Tuesday at exactly 7:57 pm, and I am unreasonably tired. I usually don't feel like this until, oh - at least 8:14.
So here's what I'm doing.
On the ipod, I'm alternating between Switchfoot, Natasha Bedingfield, and Avalon's album of hymn remixes...and I'm listening obsessively to the podcasts from the Kindlings Muse, hosted by Dick Staub...
In addition to the usual Gilmore Girls and 24, I'm tivo-ing Gray's Anatomy, Brothers and Sisters, Veronica Mars, and Heroes. One day I will catch up.
I just finished reading A Song I Knew By Heart, by Bret Lott. His writing is breathtaking - it is literally so beautiful that it makes me cry. So I'm now reading Jewel, another of his novels. I'm working my way through Isaiah, as well, which is a book so threaded with rich language that it takes a while to soak it in. Nothing will ever be so amazing as the language of the King James Bible.
I'm working on several different writing projects - my novel, as always, and a short story for Faith in Fiction and Relief Journal's Daily Sacrament contest...both groups are in my links and worth taking a look at if you have interest in faith and the arts.
What else? Chocolate cake baking, finger painting, tower building, and in about two seconds - bath giving.
Goodnight, Moon.
(Yeah. Right. Like that's actually happening in the next four hours. I guess it's the hope that counts.)

In My Head...

I dreamed on Saturday night that I was in Disney World with my entire family....today I'm wishing I were in Paris, walking around in this museum....

Ode to Coffee (or love song for a bean)

You are the reason I can get up every morning. I hear babies stirring and though I want to bury my head under the covers and go back to sleep, I remember you will be there and so I get up, care for my children, and reward myself with time for you.


You, o precious java, have been there for me countless times through the years - by my side as I've crammed for exams, a muse when creativity fails, a sweet member in my circle of friends. Everywhere I've gone, there you have gone with me. On walks by the river, on roadtrips through mountains, in my office, in malls, in homes - your presence I can depend on. Thanks for the memories, enchanting joe( and for all the pet names you put up with).


You let me dress you up however I please - in the curve of a purple mug, in a tiny china cup, and you don't even complain when all I can offer you is plain styrofoam. And you never, ever care about how I look.


Your love is steady, and yet never boring or stale. You romance me with intriguing changes - a shot of mocha here, a dollop of caramel there...you allure me with your complex personality of bitter and sweet.


There are those who say you are too much for me - that you're wrong for me in so many ways. They blame you for stunting my growth as a person, they say you'll discolor my teeth and speed up my heart with your wild dose of caffeine. But, baby, true love is supposed to make your heart race. Those naysayers are simply jealous of the purity of our feelings and I refuse to give in to their pedantic propaganda.


I accept you with your flaws, as you accept mine. Even when I've been unfaithful to you - indulging in the fleeting temptations of tea or soda or milk - you've stayed true to me. Despite your timeless popularity in society, you remain humble and available and I know you always will. When I meet with you - morning, night, or during those impromptu rendevous we sometimes have in the middle of the day - I know I'm in for delight, whether you're feeling hot or cold, bold or mild. You offer exactly what I need.


Dearest mud....I'm grateful that you're a part of my life. There's simply no replacement for you. I look forward to growing old with you by my side. Love, Dawn

Just a Theory

SUN-

WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU?? It has been dreary for several days now...and I'm in need of VITAMIN E, SKY CONTROLLER PEOPLE!!!!

Seriously, it has GOT to be a conspiracy. See if this makes sense to you...scientists have come up with a way to create rain by seeding clouds...so they can probably do all sorts of weatherish things.

Say the economy needs a little shot of adrenaline...give a state a week of gloomy weather and watch the coffee sales soar! See people crowded at the movies! Pay-Per-View marathons will pepper the suburbs! Malls will have no empty parking spots because bad weather is depressing if it lasts for more than a day and people who are depressed have no choice but to resort to SHOPPING.

I'm sure of it. We are being manipulated by the very sky under which we live.

One of Many

Another issue.
Hypochondria.
All I can think is that this headache is a sure prophesy of an aneurysm.
Aneurysms freak me out. There was a substitute teacher at my high school who taught math one day and had an aneurysm that night. Here today, gone tomorrow. Literally.
That is the nature of aneurysms.
And that is why they freak me out.

Unbalanced

Did you ever have a dream that keeps you off-kilter all day?
I awoke this morning from my dream with the worst knot in the pit of my stomach. I am a strange dreamer. Sometimes my dreams are very real and weird and frightening. Like this one.
This was my dream.
It was night. Raining. I was with the babies and my mom, hiding from these demon/angel beings...they eventually found me and informed me that everything would be destroyed if I didn't do...something. I never really clarified what I had to do with the whole saving the world thing. But I remember looking outside and there were these huge rising pools of water and I accepted my fate. I remember going with these beings and watching my mom get smaller and smaller in the distance as we traveled away. And I was just screaming names of my family, one by one, for her to tell them that I loved them...and to take care of my babies...and then I was in this hospital on an elevator, and I got out on the 42nd floor. There was a group of kids, reading stories. Because there was nothing else to do. And the water came through under the door...(it was green, which I assume comes from a Smallville marathon I had yesterday...kryptonite water???) and somehow I went through another door and into the nursery where all of these babies were...and I felt so helpless and scared, watching these innocent creatures and not understanding why they were in such danger.
And then I woke up.
The most horrible part was knowing that I wouldn't be reunited with my kids. And not knowing if they were safe. I could actually cry right now remembering that feeling.
I've dreamed this flooded world nightmare before. I can probably attribute them to the subject of my novel. It's about Noah's flood, and so I've envisioned the world destroyed in detail and written it down. It's constantly in my head. And then Katrina...images I'm sure have been cut into all of our minds.
So then I get to work and hear about a new hurricane that has strengthened to a category 4 and is heading towards Texas.

Q&A

So Kerri sent this survey thing to me a few millenia ago and I saved it for a rainy day...always intending to fill it out and send it back. I never got around to it until now, and it'll let you all in on Dawn-World a little more...

1. IF YOU COULD BUILD A SECOND HOUSE ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD IT BE?
Sunset Beach in NC...and a third on a hillside in Ireland...and a fourth in NYC. (top floor, glassed in penthouse)
2. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING?
Pajamas. I don't like my clothes since I had little Christian. My behind is bigger, my hips are wider...and my favorite jeans just don't fit the same. So I love pj's. They're forgiving.
3. THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT?
The Emancipation of Mimi (Mariah Carey) and 3 Doors Down
4. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
Every day at 5:11 (I don't know how Christian got this timer) and then for good between six and seven. Oh, sleep, how I miss thee...
5. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE KITCHEN APPLIANCE?
My coffee maker. Out of absolute need. I mean, did you see what time I wake up? I love that coffee maker so much it'll probably have a stocking on the mantle this year at Christmas.
6. IF YOU COULD PLAY AN INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
The piano. I love the feel of the keys...and the way its voice can just express so much feeling. Also acoustic guitar. Because you can carry it around. And get people to throw coins in a hat while you play.
7. FAVORITE COLOR?
Purple, in all its lovely shades.
8. WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SPORTS CAR OR SUV?
A sports car, baby. Shiny and fast.
9. DO YOU BELIEVE IN AFTERLIFE?
Yes. I believe in Heaven and in Hell. I'm glad that they are there- that God is there-, because afterlife means that this life is only a chapter in my story. If death was the end of it all, then life itself would have no purpose. It only makes sense that there is more than this, a bigger view, rhyme and reason and meaning to the span of history and future on this planet.
10. FAVORITE CHILDREN'S BOOK?
The Little Prince
11. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON?
All Four. Snow and Christmas and sweaters and cozy evenings in Winter, the freshness and color of Spring, flip-flops and warm twilights and swimming in Summer, the crispness and leaves of Autumn...
12. IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPER POWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
No question about it. Reading minds.
13. IF YOU HAVE A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT?
I am terrified of needles, so no go on the tattoo. The only way a needle will ever come close to me (voluntarily) is if it contains an epidural and I am pushing a human child out of my body.
14. CAN YOU JUGGLE?
Yeah, right. I count myself as coordinated if I make it through the day without bruising myself.
15. NAME ONE PERSON FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO.
My elementary school best friend.
16. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE DAY?
Saturday. I feel less guilty if I relax.
17. WHAT'S IN THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR?
A huge double stroller made by Jeep. A couple of toys, a T-Shirt, a hat. An empty grocery bag.
18. WHICH DO YOU PREFER SUSHI OR HAMBURGER?
Hamburger.
19. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER?
Rose. They're simple. Classic.
20. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MEAL?
Breakfast. Coffee, fresh fruit, pastry...
21. DO YOU PREFER DOGS OR CATS?
Cats
22. WHAT IS MORE IMPORTANT GOOD LOOKS OR A SENSE OF HUMOR?
Sense of humor- but thank God I found the combo in Zachary.
23. WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT IN LIFE SO FAR?
My babies...hopefully I will get them to adulthood without needing therapy.

There you go. More than you ever asked or wanted to know.

Gear of Intrigue

So I'm preparing to park at work upon returning from lunch (while still eating a jr. bacon from Wendy's) and accidentally put my car into neutral. And then I realize I've never done that before. Not on purpose, anyways. In what circumstance, apart from towing, would a person use the neutral gear? Let me know. Maybe it's useful and I am driving around, ignoring the coolest part of my car. You never know.

And for now, that's all I have to say.