I've been tagged at the same time by Sallie & Graziella, and I guess I'll be cool and actually play. The tags are a little different but similar, so I just combined them into one.
My six word memoir: More blessed than I ever deserve.
I am so excited to be finding my life after liver transplant. I have a wonderful husband and the freedom to work or not.
Seven unusual things about me:
1. I'm an undercover geek. Learning morse code and watching Star Trek was the only way to bond with my dad. Henceforth that's the kind of men I've always attracted. I speak their language, and I'm always set with cool technology.
2. I get upset with wastefulness. If it can be composted or recycled, it shouldn't be thrown away.
3. I'm a cat whisperer. Really. I can prove it by showing you that my cats do tricks.
4. I honestly want to move to Oklahoma to live. Although, I do love my mountains here.
5. I have no patience for stupidity, unless you're under 13. For some reason, I have infinite patience for children.
6. I'm an only child, and I love it. But I also am glad to finally have a brother and sister through my husband.
7. I don't know how to ride a bike.
And a goal: To become completely self-sustaining, so I don't need to worry about stupid food shortages and all the other crap this world is coming to.
I really don't have anyone to tag, unless Justin will actually be cool and play.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Choosing a President
More than any other year I remember, people are excited and informed about the presidential race. It seems a whole lot of people want to be our next Commander-in-Chief, and they are all very different with different ideas.
Now I know different people think differently about things like money, health care, Iraq, etc. And while I might have my own opinion, I do respect other people's opinions . . . if they're based on the issues at hand. I find it fascinating the statistics of how people voted in each state's primary. Older people like this person, women like this person, rich people like this person, and on and on. While I realize that who you are colors your opinion, do you vote for someone like yourself?
For instance, some women vote for Hillary Clinton, just because she's a woman. Or, some black voters favor Barak Obama. We could even stretch this and say that many conservative Christians favor Mike Huckabee or Mormons favor Mitt Romney. This is where I really get lost because when I look at who I want to be a major force in this country, I don't look at their race, gender, etc. I do look at values, which is why I say voting for a Christian isn't necessarily bad in itself. However, I also look for experience, for good character & integrity, for someone with good ideas, common sense and balance. A good president should be diplomatic and level headed. He or she should definitely have a good understanding of the issues at hand, of economics, the Constitution, and of the citizens he is governing.
Can a woman be a good president? Sure, but I'm not going to vote for someone just because she's a woman. Does our president have to fit the stereotypical rich, white male. I hope not. But why vote for someone that's black or vote against someone that's Morman just because of their race or religion. That's plain silly. And it's really against what we believe as Americans.
So, please vote. Vote in the primary as well as the general election. And vote for the issues you think are important. Running for President of the United States is not the same as running for your highschool senior class president. It's not a popularity contest. It's about things that really matter.
Now I know different people think differently about things like money, health care, Iraq, etc. And while I might have my own opinion, I do respect other people's opinions . . . if they're based on the issues at hand. I find it fascinating the statistics of how people voted in each state's primary. Older people like this person, women like this person, rich people like this person, and on and on. While I realize that who you are colors your opinion, do you vote for someone like yourself?
For instance, some women vote for Hillary Clinton, just because she's a woman. Or, some black voters favor Barak Obama. We could even stretch this and say that many conservative Christians favor Mike Huckabee or Mormons favor Mitt Romney. This is where I really get lost because when I look at who I want to be a major force in this country, I don't look at their race, gender, etc. I do look at values, which is why I say voting for a Christian isn't necessarily bad in itself. However, I also look for experience, for good character & integrity, for someone with good ideas, common sense and balance. A good president should be diplomatic and level headed. He or she should definitely have a good understanding of the issues at hand, of economics, the Constitution, and of the citizens he is governing.
Can a woman be a good president? Sure, but I'm not going to vote for someone just because she's a woman. Does our president have to fit the stereotypical rich, white male. I hope not. But why vote for someone that's black or vote against someone that's Morman just because of their race or religion. That's plain silly. And it's really against what we believe as Americans.
So, please vote. Vote in the primary as well as the general election. And vote for the issues you think are important. Running for President of the United States is not the same as running for your highschool senior class president. It's not a popularity contest. It's about things that really matter.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Goodbye Old Friend
Usually people remember their first car with love. It was the car that made them independant, even if it wasn't very dependable. It shared a lot of growing up years and memories good and bad.
Although my Jimmy wasn't my first car, it was really the car that transitioned me into adulthood with all the memories that come. It was my Jimmy that took me back and forth to Oklahoma more times than I can count. It drove me crazy with its quirks and yet without them I wouldn't have met the man that is now my mate. My Jimmy carried tons of teaching materials, camping stuff, wedding presents, and Christmas trees. It threatened to die more often than not, yet it suffered the flattening of Frito Lay and still took me to school, student teaching, graduation, work, my wedding, my honeymoon, 4 homes, and all those places that come inbetween.
My Jimmy was my friend, and yet there comes a time when all friends must move on. Though it is sad, it is that time. Hopefully it will bring it's new college friend many hours of service and memories.
Goodbye old friend. I will never forget...
Although my Jimmy wasn't my first car, it was really the car that transitioned me into adulthood with all the memories that come. It was my Jimmy that took me back and forth to Oklahoma more times than I can count. It drove me crazy with its quirks and yet without them I wouldn't have met the man that is now my mate. My Jimmy carried tons of teaching materials, camping stuff, wedding presents, and Christmas trees. It threatened to die more often than not, yet it suffered the flattening of Frito Lay and still took me to school, student teaching, graduation, work, my wedding, my honeymoon, 4 homes, and all those places that come inbetween.
My Jimmy was my friend, and yet there comes a time when all friends must move on. Though it is sad, it is that time. Hopefully it will bring it's new college friend many hours of service and memories.
Goodbye old friend. I will never forget...
Friday, April 27, 2007
In the Words of Chiquita, the Alpha Cat
I have been begging Mommy to give me an opportunity to tell my story. So finally, here it is...
Once upon a time, there was a happy kitty family. There was a Mommy to snuggle with, a Daddy to feed us early in the morning, a little fur brother to play with, and a beautiful alpha kitty who did what she pleased. The house was quiet with lots of windows to watch the birdies & bunnies and lots of comfy beds big and small.
Then one day, a stranger came to the house. She brought the biggest, meanest looking creature I've ever seen. Then she left! Mommy said that this scary creature was called a greyhound dog. She said his name was Timber, and he would be staying with us for a while. She also told us to not be scared and that we should introduce ourselves and make him feel welcome.
Welcome? In my home? I don't think so! So, I did the only thing I could do. I hissed that my name was Chiquita, and that I was the alpha in this house. He and his big teeth and eyes better not even look at me. Then I ran under the bed to sulk.
That was the day that my home sweet home became a prison. While Timber got to go outside many times a day to play, I was forced to watch the birdies from behind the window. While she coaxed him to eat, I was locked in the laundy room. When he clumsily runs to close and I tell him so, she tells me to behave myself. Even Shadow has turned traitor. He must have forgotten that he is a cat because he even enjoys playing outside with Timber in his pen.
As I count the days of tribulation, I realize he's not as scary as I thought. But he's no cat and he should have no place in my home. Mommy says it's not forever. She says he's really nice, and we could be friends. Puh! That will never happen.
Someday this too shall pass. I will once again be free to roam as a carefree kitty, presiding over my queendom with dignity and pride. For now I will plot new ways to make Timber's life as miserable as mine.
Once upon a time, there was a happy kitty family. There was a Mommy to snuggle with, a Daddy to feed us early in the morning, a little fur brother to play with, and a beautiful alpha kitty who did what she pleased. The house was quiet with lots of windows to watch the birdies & bunnies and lots of comfy beds big and small.
Then one day, a stranger came to the house. She brought the biggest, meanest looking creature I've ever seen. Then she left! Mommy said that this scary creature was called a greyhound dog. She said his name was Timber, and he would be staying with us for a while. She also told us to not be scared and that we should introduce ourselves and make him feel welcome.
Welcome? In my home? I don't think so! So, I did the only thing I could do. I hissed that my name was Chiquita, and that I was the alpha in this house. He and his big teeth and eyes better not even look at me. Then I ran under the bed to sulk.
That was the day that my home sweet home became a prison. While Timber got to go outside many times a day to play, I was forced to watch the birdies from behind the window. While she coaxed him to eat, I was locked in the laundy room. When he clumsily runs to close and I tell him so, she tells me to behave myself. Even Shadow has turned traitor. He must have forgotten that he is a cat because he even enjoys playing outside with Timber in his pen.
As I count the days of tribulation, I realize he's not as scary as I thought. But he's no cat and he should have no place in my home. Mommy says it's not forever. She says he's really nice, and we could be friends. Puh! That will never happen.
Someday this too shall pass. I will once again be free to roam as a carefree kitty, presiding over my queendom with dignity and pride. For now I will plot new ways to make Timber's life as miserable as mine.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
The Comeback of the Whooping Crane
When I was little I loved things like Easter Egg hunts, scavenger hunts, and anything else that involved finding treasure. Now, I find treasure through geocaching. It might seem easy, but it's not just following your GPS to the right coordinates. Geocaching is a treasure hunting game of the grandest kind involving searching all kinds of odd places until one finally finds the "treasure chest" under a rock, in a tree hole, among a pile of leaves or any other good hiding place. Then, if you're really lucky, you might find really cool treasure to swap with something of your own.
Last Saturday, our treasure hunting elevated to a much grander scale. We went to the Hiawasee Wildlife Refuge to see the Sandhill Cranes during a geocaching jaunt. It was a beautiful day, and the cranes were making great music for quite a few birdwatchers. I was disappointed that there were too many people to be stealthy treasure seekers, and then a nice birdwatcher showed me a much better treasure. His scope was on a beautiful Whooping Crane, a grand white bird, much taller than the rest of the smaller brown Sandhills, who was calmly preening among the excitement around him.
Why is this bird such a treasure to find, you ask? Well, in 1941 there were only 15 Whooping Cranes left. This small flock, who nest in Canada and winter in Texas, barely escaped extinction. Although many efforts have been made to save it, there are still only about 200.
Enter a bunch of white robed scientists with bird puppets and ultralights, stage right . . . I mean, east. These scientists have created a way to breed the birds in captivity and then teach them a new migration route, nesting in Wisconsin and wintering in Florida. This eastern migratory route hadn't been used by Whooping Cranes in over a century. Now thanks to these efforts by ultralight fliers in bird suits, they are making quite a comeback, slowly, but surely.
So, to see a Whooping Crane here in Tennessee, stopping over on his migration back home . . . that's a wonder to behold. It's a treasure that has been saved.
Last Saturday, our treasure hunting elevated to a much grander scale. We went to the Hiawasee Wildlife Refuge to see the Sandhill Cranes during a geocaching jaunt. It was a beautiful day, and the cranes were making great music for quite a few birdwatchers. I was disappointed that there were too many people to be stealthy treasure seekers, and then a nice birdwatcher showed me a much better treasure. His scope was on a beautiful Whooping Crane, a grand white bird, much taller than the rest of the smaller brown Sandhills, who was calmly preening among the excitement around him.
Why is this bird such a treasure to find, you ask? Well, in 1941 there were only 15 Whooping Cranes left. This small flock, who nest in Canada and winter in Texas, barely escaped extinction. Although many efforts have been made to save it, there are still only about 200.
Enter a bunch of white robed scientists with bird puppets and ultralights, stage right . . . I mean, east. These scientists have created a way to breed the birds in captivity and then teach them a new migration route, nesting in Wisconsin and wintering in Florida. This eastern migratory route hadn't been used by Whooping Cranes in over a century. Now thanks to these efforts by ultralight fliers in bird suits, they are making quite a comeback, slowly, but surely.
So, to see a Whooping Crane here in Tennessee, stopping over on his migration back home . . . that's a wonder to behold. It's a treasure that has been saved.
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