"...Peanut butter sandwiches," says the Count. Cookie loves cook-ies!
Who do you love?
I love my husband, my children, my little boy doggie, my friends, family members ... the list goes on. I've always loved people, always loved to help, always was able to put myself into their moccasins.
Jesus Christ said, "Love your neighbor as yourself."
I don't think enough people do that - love themselves. If you don't love yourself, it is hard to have genuine love for others. I have to take care of me, so I can help those I care about.
Yesterday I said was a really good day. Today was even better! I was wide-eyed wired last night after having caffeine a little too late. I was so awake that I didn't go to bed until sometime after 4:00am. Yikes, right? I got up at a reasonable time; no not noon. I was out of bed by 9:30 this morning. Things didn't quite work out for the first part of the morning as I'd hoped, but I put the time to good use. I filled three decent sized boxes with books! No long are my book shelves double lined. What an accomplishment! I also weeded through some clothes I no longer wear for various reasons (size, style, age) and put those into another box that had nick-knacks in it
and pretty much filled that box too. We got it all loaded into the back of my vehicle along with a daybed frame taking up space in the garage. We hauled it all off to Goodwill where I'm sure those things will find a second life.
I spent a pleasant evening out tonight after a totally wonderful artist's date day that included working out, a pho lunch, a mani/pedi, a lovely massage (Chinese, which is quite different from other massages I've had) and a night out at a local bar where I had a wonderful T-bone steak dinner. Yum!
The music was great and varied. Everything from Frank Sinatra's New York, New York! to Bon Jovi's Dead or Alive to Billy Joel's Uptown Girl and the Eagle's How Long. Variety is so the spice of life. That got me thinking about creativity. There are some folks who feel they just are not creative. I'd like to tell you that if you are one of them, you've been told lies. Everyone, absolutely EVERYONE has some sort of creativity. Many people mistakenly believe they have no creativity when in fact their creativity is an OTHER kind of creativity.
The young man curled up in the hay and slept. Cows lowed, horses neighed. He was a long way from his Churchville,Virginia home. He and a handful of others had made the stable their bivouac. They traded guard duty, keeping an eye out for any sign of enemy ingress. At a mere eighteen years of age, James traded in his college life to join the military.
Now, here in Philippi, restful sleep was a thing of the past, with his senses still on alert for any sound that might be out of the ordinary. After rest, James resumed his turn at the guard post. He was hyper-aware. The enemy could attack at any time. And they did.
Today is D's last day. I got a phone call before I left this morning letting me know and asking me to pick up some pie. I know D enjoys banana and I wanted to get a banana cream pie but was told those pies were still in the frozen state. I got a sugar-free apple and a strawberry rhubarb pie instead.
D is a bigger than life, funny, super intelligent man. He wears chivalry like skin. For a while, in the beginning when he came to QA row he intimidated me. Not in a scary sort of way, but rather the sun was so bright wherever he went. D is outrageous good fun to be around. His sense of humor gets us all going. D is also a compassionate biker and frequently participates in charity rides.
Since the lay-off there have been days where it is just plain ol' difficult to get out of bed. I know it's the depression talking and working to get a hold of me so I fight it with all the energy I can muster. It is the basement level of the mood elevator.
It's sort of hard for me to admit to myself that I was a victim of abuse. I see it now but I didn't then. All I saw was anger so intense and unwarranted that I feebly tried and often failed to quell it. The bulk of the anger for a long, long time was taken out on our family dog. Gus was a beautiful bull boxer and had a sweet disposition. Until the abuser showed up. Then he became skittish and withdrawn.
It angered the abuser that Gus was afraid. The abuser, though, had taught Gus the fear and his fear was well founded. We got Gus around 1999 I'd guess. Not too long after my return to my home state. He was a cute little thing and had the adorable dark eyes that we associate with so many dogs. He was good and loving and he adored P.
