A Czech proverb states, "Repetition is the mother of wisdom." You would think after 57 straight weeks of writing a column, I would be finding some of that wisdom. An Arab proverb states, "In repetition there is learning." After over a year of writing columns, I should have learned by now how to quickly write a column with total efficiency and little effort. Nope, I’m as slow now as I was on my first one. There’s another proverb that says, "Repetition teaches the donkey", but we won’t go there.

The last 57 weeks have passed quickly as time seems to do. Our family, as with all families, is constantly changing. Since I started writing my column, all four of my children have moved. Three have become the owners of their own homes. Mandy and Joey lost their home and most of their belongings to the Greensburg tornado. To add extra love and laughter to our life, two grandbabies have been welcomed into our chaos. Michael Ray has been diagnosed with Perthes Disease. I have quit drinking Dr. Pepper after a 20 year addiction to that legal poison, a staggering life-style change for me. I have had to constantly practice self-discipline as I’ve wrestled with procrastination and deadlines.

I’ve had the opportunity to ramble, rant, rave, rationalize and reflect on all sorts of subjects. I’ve had fun writing the columns, but the best part has been the conversations and comments with people on the streets of Medicine Lodge.

People have told me sad stories, funny stories, kid stories and parent stories. Congratulations were offered on the birth of Marie and Evan and encouragement given on Michael Ray’s prognosis. Through the devastating time after the Greensburg tornado, people generously gave me cash, checks and gift cards to financially help Mandy and her family as they tried to get their equilibrium back. I’ve been stopped on the street and had people share the history of their addictions and hints of ways to make it through cravings without giving in.

All of these short exchanges of words have been fantastic and I want to thank you for them. They have helped me realize how similar we all are in feelings and experiences.

Take for example, put a bunch of people, both men and women, in a room and have one person begin talking about the difficulties of raising teenagers. Although each narrator’s rendition may be a little different, every story will fit into the category of, "raising a teenager is like walking down a dark, crooked trail knowing the rocky path is congested with hidden land mines."

Another group that has an abundance of verbal interaction is an assembly of middle-age women. Oh yeah, we can quickly go through the subjects. One of our favorites is the subject of hot flashes and other hated hormonal handicaps. We talk of the ups and downs of motherhood and why being a grandma is a much better way to go. This is the time that women’s minds begin to really open up and they realize that if dreams and goals are ever going to be achieved, it’s time to make the move. Women at middle-age have moved out of the nesting stage where they want to make everything okay with everybody in the whole wide world. We begin expressing our opinions a little more aggressively which may cause this age of woman to encounter surprised reactions from familiar people. We also decide during this stage in our lives that trying to live a healthier life-style is of the utmost importance, not just a vain pursuit with selfish intentions.

I recently had one of those swift exchanges with substitute mail carrier, Norma Ricke. It is visibly evident that she has made some changes in her life. When asked how she did it, her words of wisdom were simple. She explained the changes and choices she made were for her health and to feel better, not for looks. Walking all over town packing a large bag of mail is just a special bonus to keep her focused.

I’m pretty sure men also have specific topics that regularly pop up in their conversations. I would guess sports, electronics and other toys, fast running machines and how to deal with psycho crazy hormonal women are probably a few points of discussion in an all male atmosphere. I just bet most all participants enjoy contributing to those running dialogues.

I wonder how different our conversations are than those of our ancestors. Life goes on, babies are born; their grandparents die. Good things happen and bad things happen. One guarantee is that life will be unfair. We are faced with the political corruptness that erodes our faith in our government. There are numerous instances where harmful medicines, food and drinks are touted by manufacturers as being not only safe but also healthy. The media is packed with stories of money mismanagement, murder and mayhem. Most everyone is faced with economic difficulties as the price of gas, food and other necessities climb at an alarming rate.

Although we may live in a small community, we are as affected by the unstable times as those living in a large city. Employees of National Gypsum are fully aware of the fact as their hours are being drastically cut resulting in a paycheck that doesn’t begin to cover expenses.

Although many of these things are out of our control, we can make the daily choice on whether to make our world a happier place to live. We can begin a positive chain reaction by flashing a smile, giving an encouraging word or performing a random act of kindness. What goes around comes around; what you sow, you will reap.

Also, I want to thank Julia, Seth, Mandy, Joey, Andrea, Ryan, Michael and Jami for their patience and understanding. I know they have experienced a little nervous trepidation over the content of each weekly column. I could write a million columns and never be able to adequately describe the love I have for my children and grandchildren. I’m a lucky woman to have them in my life and I want the time to enjoy each one of them.

Also, I want to thank God for his protecting hand over me and mine. There have been umpteen times in just the past year that His grace has been overwhelmingly evident in our lives.

Also, have an excellent life!

The study of the history of women was rarely a serious pursuit by scholars before 1970. There was no doctoral training available in the country relating to the many women who had an important part in forming the history of our nation.

Now nearly every college offers women’s history courses and most major graduate programs have doctorate degrees available in that field of study.

The major factor that contributed to these changes was the women’s movement in the sixties. Women began to question why those women who had gone before them and had achieved many important accomplishments were left out of the traditional American History writings.

The public celebration of women’s history in America began in this country in 1978 as Women’s History Week in Sonoma County in California . In 1987, Congress expanded the celebration to a month and named March National Women’s History Month.

One day last week was the third anniversary of my mother’s death. I have discovered more things about my mother in the last three years than my first 47.

My mom was 43 when I was born and she died at the age of 90. I never knew until after her death how much experience and information she had stored within her head. Maybe if I had asked the right questions in the right way, we would have had a closer relationship and better communication. The older I get, the regrets seem to grow stronger for the many things I never and will never know about my mother. Hindsight now tells me that many of the things I perceived as weaknesses in that hard to understand woman were really strengths. I was too young to realize the truth and by the time I had matured enough to begin questioning my preconceived thoughts, Mom had lost her hearing and had regressed further into a world unreachable by others.

I had wondered if all women from that generation were similar in their methods of dealing with life. I met Mrs. Cline and she wiped away all thoughts of mom’s personality traits being generational.

When we moved to Medicine Lodge, I wanted to find a job that would allow me to not only be home in the mornings to see the kids off to school but also in the afternoons when they returned home.

I found the perfect job. Beulah Cline had just moved into town from the family ranch located west of Medicine Lodge at Deerhead. Her son, Wes, also moved into town, but went out to work on the ranch most days. I stayed with her from 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. five days a week.

I cleaned her house, fixed her lunch, took care of her yard and spent hours talking with her. Those conversations were much too concentrated and detailed to write down; but I wish I would have taped them. That petite woman was unbelievable. She had raised 3 boys and one girl. At the time, I was in the process of raising 3 girls and one boy.

The differences were incredible. I listened in attentive silence as she talked about her life. She described the duties and responsibilities of a ranch wife and mother in the ‘20’s, ‘30’s and 40’s. Mrs. Cline was a wonderful storyteller. She intertwined her sharp wit and personal opinions with the bare facts which kept every conversation interesting, humorous and informative. She talked about the Depression years and the struggle to keep her kids in clean clothes through the "dirty thirties". She gave details concerning what it took to feed a family of six plus the hired men. The picture she painted was vivid in my mind as my imagination tried to comprehend baking several loaves of bread every other day along with all of the other time-consuming chores. She never failed to make me thankful for being born in the ’50’s instead of earlier in the century. I admired her for her attitude, her mental and physical strength that were ingrained components of her personality and her love for her family.

It would be difficult to be the recipient of a pen and paper with the instructions to write down the 10 most remarkable women you have come in contact with in your lifetime. I know Mom and Mrs. Cline would both be on my list, but I don’t think I could limit the number to 10.

Have you looked around Medicine Lodge? We have a town full of amazing women. You want examples? Ummmkay, how about the women in the American Legion Ladies Auxiliary? These women not only hit the streets every November and hang ribbons downtown to remind all of us of the many veterans and their sacrifices to keep our Country free, but they also sell Buddy Poppies. The proceeds from these flowers go to disabled and needy veterans or the widows and children of veterans.

Have you read in the paper of how many volunteer hours the Women’s Hospital Auxiliary rack up every month?

We would all be gratefully amazed if we were presented with a list of the many ways the Pilots Club has contributed to this community.

Sororities and other clubs invest time and money into providing scholarships and activities for our youth.

If you need to meet some exceptional women, visit The Leisure Center. How about those who deliver Meals on Wheels?

Blood drives do not just happen. Volunteers give hours and hours of their time; donors give their lifesaving blood.

Visit the churches. You will find women involved in activities and like the other clubs and organizations, they work year round to make Medicine Lodge a better place to live.

Okay guys, I am very well aware of the story of Adam and Eve and how Eve’s curiosity, uuhhhh….. disobedience caused trouble for all of us. I am very conscious of the tendency for women to be a bit hormonal and emotional at times. I’m sure some men would even go so far as to call women unreasonable (I hope, for safety’s sake, this is not said to their face). Women are human so each has their own set of weaknesses as well as strengths.

March is the month that the nation celebrates the strengths of women. Whether groaning in agony while in the clutches of a contraction, struggling to balance a career and family or volunteering hours out of their busy day to help others, women are amazing.

Also, take some time to learn about some of the women who have made their marks in history. Read about their courage and strength as they took a stand in their desire to make a difference.

Also, celebrate National Women’s History Month by telling all of the extraordinary women in your life just how awesome you think they are while they are still characters in your present instead of your past.

Also, have you read some of the recent books and information on how poorly women in many other countries are treated? We are blessed to live in the United States of America.

Also, have an excellent week!

A few days later I was shocked at the size of the floater drifting through my field of vision. I was used to having an occasional speck bouncing back and forth like a professionally played ping pong ball, but this one was much larger. After watching this new invader for a while, I realized I was wasting my time staring cross eyed at a gnat. Once more I felt that flow of relief rush through me on having once more side stepped another potential problem.

I’m not delusional. I struggle with opening the lid of the picante sauce; extra exertion leaves me achy; my ears lie to me concerning the exact location of a noise; my eyes project things into my brain that would astound an abstract painter and there are times that my memory can’t remember anything. This isn’t including the wrinkles, lines, bags, sags and other wonderful characteristics of growing older. I’m very aware that I have hit middle-age and it seems to be time to pay the piper for a bunch of the stupid things I’ve done in life.

Recently my grandson, Michael Ray, presented a hard to ignore trait of the aging process. Michael Ray has Perthes Disease. This malady occurs when the blood supply is cut off to the femoral heads which causes the cartilage and bone to disintegrate. After several weeks of physical therapy showing no signs of helping his condition, it was decided that a more intense treatment would be necessary.

Michael Ray was taken into surgery and both of his legs were put in casts held in a V position with one bar built into his cast above his knees and one below his knees. The wheelchair is now his mode of transportation.

I went to Haviland to stay with Michael Ray and his sister Marie the Monday following his trip into surgery. I went early in the morning so Mandy could get to work on time. I was armed with all sorts of "grandmotherly" things. I was looking forward to having Michael Ray and Marie all to myself for a whole day. I did have fun, I laughed a lot, but I had a rude awakening.

The time came for me to move Michael Ray into a room where the door wouldn’t accommodate the wide spread of his legs. Oh my goodness, it took everything I had to move my grandson. I got him to where he needed to be, but it was in a different way than what he was use to being carried. I felt like Superman…..after being exposed to kryptonite.

I have made a lot of changes in my life recently. I have been completely without a Dr. Pepper for seven weeks. I drink at least eight glasses of water a day. I have worked really hard to remember my vitamins every day. I usually manage to eat at least nine fruits and vegetables each day. I walk three to five miles nearly every day thanks to my dog requiring exercise to keep her personality pleasant. I usually sleep at least seven or eight hours a night unless I get involved in a late night telephone conversation, I’m extremely hormonal or my stress level is off the chart. I have been feeling good about these changes and then I find that it is just not enough. Not one of these things I mentioned helps build upper body strength. Now I have started a weight-lifting program. I definitely do not need a spotter yet, but it’s a beginning.

This has made me think about strength as I’ve searched my fitness magazines to find the easiest most effective exercises that work the fastest. I have found that easy and effective goes together like oil and water. As with most anything that is important, strength just doesn’t come easy.

Whether physical, emotional, mental or spiritual strength, my children have motivated and inspired me for the past 28 years. Now I find my grandchildren having an even more intense effect on my life. I want to feel good. I want to be able to keep up with them, well, at least on their slow days. I want to be physically capable of taking care of them.

I have agonized over Michael Ray’s medical condition. I’ve been angry that he has had to go through so many rough things in his short seven years. A tornado and a disease all in one year would be overwhelming for an adult, but even more devastating to a child.

I was watching television and saw a commercial for St. Judes Hospital. It slapped me pretty hard. Michael Ray was not in a hospital fighting for his life. I should be grateful instead of whining.

Julia has had several middle-age patients that had Perthes Disease as a child and it went undiagnosed and untreated. The results are excruciating and debilitating pain from femoral heads being shaped like footballs or even worse. Michael Ray is receiving treatment now while he is young. Although it doesn’t guarantee a problem free middle-age, it will push related problems further down the road. This is yet another reason to be positive concerning the situation instead of concentrating on the negative.

Michael Ray was popping wheelies in his first 24 hours in his wheelchair. He has quickly adjusted. There is pain and times of frustration, but he’s dealing with it.

So when I’m lifting my not very big weights and I’m not really into it, I think of Michael Ray, turn up the music and concentrate on my breathing techniques.

I know that good nutrition, good sleep and good exercise is well...........good, but my real strength comes from God and my family.

Also, Amber Keller, a family friend, put donation jars at several stores before Michael Ray’s surgery. Inflation has hit nearly every area in our lives, but people in this community still generously shared with Michael Ray. The money was used for all of those unexpected expenses one doesn’t know to plan for. A special pillow was needed to make his wheelchair a more comfortable ride as well as other items that helps to make this time a little less challenging. Mandy, well all of us, appreciates your help and your prayers; not only for Michael Ray but also for his caretakers.

Also, Daylight Savings Time has begun; there are patches of green scattered here and there and the birds sure seem a lot happier in the morning. I think we’ve almost made it through another winter.

Also, have an excellent week!

I did my taxes recently. It wasn’t a happy day. After finding out we owed $1,221.00 in taxes, I went to the grocery store and bought milk and a few groceries. As I walked through the front door of our house, the bottom fell out of the sack, the side of the jug split and one gallon of milk gushed out on my floor.

Anybody that has said "don’t cry over spilled milk" has never had to clean up a gallon of milk from their floor shortly after finding out they owe over a thousand dollars to the government. I cried over the milk, the taxes and I threw in a few other stresses in my life for good measure.

Ray and I live a pretty simple life. He works, I work. We both claim married with zero exemptions. We don’t have a lot but if you gave us a couple of thousand dollars we wouldn’t owe anything other than utilities and insurance every month. Our four exemptions have grown up and are now producing their own little exemptions. We don’t have any losses or at least none you can claim on income taxes. Our situation is just pretty cut and dried; we just didn’t have enough taxes taken out through the year.

I’ll admit, I’ve been feeling pretty un-American. I know that it is the responsibility of the citizens of this country to be responsible and pay their taxes. My anger is aimed at the United States government for not being responsible in the way much of the tax money is used.

If there would have been a protest in this area similar to the Boston Tea Party I would have gladly gotten involved in protest of having to pay so many taxes.

Ummmkay, to be logical, we have to pay taxes; a government needs funds to survive and thrive. There has to be money to maintain roads, keep all of the programs going; pay government employees and all of the other expenditures necessary to keep a country functioning smoothly.

What really makes me angry is all of the unnecessary spending. Have you ever read some of that stuff in The Readers Digest? Some of the stuff over the last few years would be kind of funny until you think about where that money is coming from.

Let me share just a teeny tiny few examples with you.

The Pentagon and Central Intelligence Agency poured approximately $11 million in to psychics who they were hoping would provide special insights into foreign terroristic activity. This unsuccessful endeavor was called the "Stargate" program.

The Department of Education spent $34 million to help Americans become better shoppers and homemakers.

There was a study of algae in hot water that only cost $1.8 million.

There was the $3.6 million spent for ‘team building’ exercises for the Postal Service. This money was spent for employee retreats where hundreds of Postal workers played children’s games, sang "We Are Family", wrote Christmas carols, went on treasure hunts, dressed in cat costumes and talked to imaginary wizards, magicians and mad scientists at staff meetings.

Millions of dollars of Social Security checks are mailed to fugitives even though a 1996 law prohibits the payments.

$560,000 was paid to trim weeds at the Montana Sheep Institute.

$440,000 is spent annually to have attendants push buttons on the fully automated Capitol Hill elevators used by Representative and Senators.

This list goes on and on and covers everything from abortions to zoos and involves billions of dollars of wasted monies.

As long as I’m already ranting and raving, please let me add a few things! It is just not fair that individuals and large companies with lots of money can get by with murder....literally. I’m not only referring to drug and food manufacturers but also to the makers of lotions, shampoos and other toiletries.

I just heard on the news recently that they are trying to get it passed that drug companies would not be liable if the drugs they manufactured made an individual sicker or worse yet, dead. There are already laws in place that protect manufacturers of malfunctioning appliances used in medical procedures that cause problems for an unfortunate patient.

Manufacturers of foods use the cheapest, easiest and fastest means in getting their products out to the consumer. Their products are not only lacking in nutrition, most of the additives and preservatives used are known to be harmful to the body and some are even cancer causing agents.

Those that mass produce lotions, sprays and perfumes have to be motivated by greed and must be lacking a conscience. Many of the ingredients of these products are suspected of causing cancer and other illnesses in the human body but are still being included in their poisonous potions.

I think all of this makes me so angry because it makes me feel totally helpless and hopeless. When you feel helpless and hopeless, it can make you psycho-crazy and turn you into a deranged nutcase.

Money, it is all about money. Money and greed and big companies doing what they want and the government not protecting the people from all of these harmful additives, preservatives, chemicals and drugs that are eating away at the health of the American people.

Now you add all of these thoughts on top of listening to all of the political wrangling going on and it makes one just a tiny bit hesitant about our government leaders, past, present and future.

This is just a mild outline of the thoughts going through my mind when I picked up the February 17, 2008 of the Parade magazine. The feature story was about the 10 world’s worst dictators. The short articles on these 10 men read like a horror story. The 10 countries listed in the story are lacking freedom and democracy. Civilians are arrested, tortured and killed for little or no reason. In North Korea three generations of a family can be punished for a crime that a member of their family allegedly committed. In Zimbabwe, inflation has hit 8000% and unemployment has reached 80%. Not only are citizens forced to have abortions in China , the government controls all the media and limits the practice of religion. 99% of all trials in China result in a guilty verdict.

There seemed to be no human rights allowed the citizens of these 10 countries. Many citizens of these countries even lost their right to live even though they had committed no crime.

The story made me think. The information listed on these countries and the dictators running these countries put my previous thoughts into prospective.

I’m still not happy with having to pay in $1221.00 to income tax, but I am happy to be living in a country I can gripe about it without worrying about being punished or killed for complaining.

I think our government should have to be much more accountable to the people for how they spend the money coming from the American citizens.

I don’t mind contributing to the upkeep of America’s roads. I don’t mind paying my part of government programs. (Unless, of course, the people receiving government assistance are having way more fun in life than I am!) I’m okay with adding my share of the oil to keep this country running smoothly. I just hate to think that one penny of mine goes to fund something really, really stupid or goes to people that just don’t deserve it.

I wonder if I could get a grant from the government to study and experiment using different kinds of plastics to make milk jugs out of. My goal would be to find one sturdy enough to withstand being dropped without splitting and releasing the contents in an undesirable location. At my best guestimation, I believe a $2 million grant would cover my start-up costs.

Also, thank you for allowing me to grump and gripe about my little dilemma. I hope your story is much happier.

Also, have an excellent week!

I had already unloaded my cart and I could see the cashier was having a bad enough day without any smart-mouth comments from me, so I tried to relax and checked out the magazines. It worked. I totally forgot about the problem-challenged customer ahead of me and submerged myself into the lives of a group of people that seem to soak up troubles, problems, pregnancies and marriages like a sponge. The sponges are then squeezed out on to the pages of magazines and newspapers throughout the land for people like me to read while stuck in line.

Finally, the lady’s commentary of her cleaning problems dwindled off and she showed signs of finally writing her check. She must have begun to experience some swelling in her ankles because she was shifting from one foot to the other and leaning against the counter. To the relief of the cashier, the talkative customer moved towards the exit of the store.

As I moved into position as her next customer, the cashier had a look on her face that was sheer desperation. I greeted her and asked what product she would recommend to make my cat’s litter box smell like roses. She looked like she was going to cry until I started laughing and then she joined in. Neither of us mentioned her previous customer because sometimes words fail.

On my way home, I was thinking about how glad I am I wasn’t a cashier. I’ve been there and done that for several years and I remember going home after particularly bad days with no faith left in me for the human race.

Then my mind started wandering to the magazines I had looked at while in line and decided I would rather be a cashier than one of the rich and famous in those magazines.

The entertainment industry includes not only movies, television and recording stars, but also the many magazines and newspaper articles, stories and "tell all" books on these larger-than-life "beautiful" people.

As with every thing else, there are two sides to this story also, maybe three or four.

Us, aaahhhh, normal people, seem to have a fascination for reading about the lives and predicaments of the celebrities. As most of us feel that our lives are pretty much the same-old, same-old each day, the stories we read about the famous contain elements of excitement, disaster, romance and mystery. Although there may be some of these stories that make us wish for more of these happenings in our lives, other stories make us glad we are living the simple life.

How many would like to trade places right now with Brittany Spears? A couple of failed marriages, lost both of her children to her ex-husband and information and pictures of a personal matter plastered across the front of all the tabloids in the land.

I could not imagine living a life where there were people outside my door with cameras 24 hours a day. You couldn’t go anywhere without being followed by the paparazzi hoping for a good picture to sell to the magazines.

Everybody has "off" days where you feel like dressing slouchy and not wearing makeup. The photographers would be hiding around the corner to take a picture of you. It would then end up in the magazines with a story that you just broke up with whoever or you were suffering with a serious illness or eating disorder or maybe a pregnancy rumor with a three name guess list for who the father is.

If you were famous, you would have no privacy, people would say things about you that were not true and you would have unflattering pictures taken of you for the whole world to check out. You would never know if someone was being nice to you just because of who you are.

Another side is that many people that find themselves in the position of stardom and wealth make choices that invites public scrutiny. Some stars feel that it is important to keep their names out there and in the media and it doesn’t matter if the news is positive or negative. When their incomes provide them with unlimited funds, their activities can provide the gossip magazines with unlimited copy.

So yes, the grass is usually greener on the other side and the money, houses, vacations and fancy vehicles would be fun, but............

I don’t think I could really enjoy buying a purse for $1,300.00 or a pair of shoes for $700.00 at the same time I was lending my name to a "save the starving children" organization. Extreme excess seems to breed instability and an erratic life-style.

I guess it doesn’t matter whether we are a cashier, farmer, office worker, doctor, lawyer or movie star, there are good things and bad things to deal with in any job.

I would rather be paid $7.00 an hour to cope with a woman consumed with her cleaning complications than make millions and read about my crazy life whether true or not on the pages of a national magazine. Simple is just so much easier to manage.

Also, for anybody with cleaning problems, Heloise has some books that give excellent suggestions for cleaning and organizing. At least one book does include hints on hard water deposits.

Also, have an excellent week living the simple life!

Ray and I were headed home from Hutchinson and the higher I turned the heater, the colder I seemed to get. It was cold that night and I’m just naturally cold blooded so it didn’t register that I was getting sick until my bone marrow turned to ice.

After taking a dose of Nyquil, I headed for bed with my microwaved rice bag and the mistaken idea that I would sleep off those teeth-chattering chills.

Things went downhill from there. If the air coming out of my mouth had gotten any hotter, I would have been breathing fire. I put my "dragon breath" to good use and covered my head letting the heat help warm my shaking extremities.

My body became a toolbox filled with battery powered miniature tools traveling through my bloodstream to every part of my body. Hammers pounded on my eyeballs causing a throbbing that echoed throughout my brain. There were at least 206 mini drills, one for each bone in my body. I’m pretty sure I felt the results of needle nose pliers, vice grips and a few pointy things. I’d say maybe a Phillips head screwdriver or a nail set or maybe the tip of a utility knife. Tiny micro saws ripped through nerves, muscles and tissue in their attempt to cause the most excruciating misery possible. I was just a powerhouse of pain!

I can’t tell you exactly or specifically what happened the following three days, but here are a few of the things I do remember.

I talked to my mom a lot. Now I know that it is only natural to seek comfort from one’s mother when not feeling well but…..my mom died almost three years ago.

My dog and one of my cats seemed to always be there beside me. Yes, they talked to me also, in people talk.

I also ended up as a guest at a native type of celebration. I was scared and hurting and I believe it was a cannibalistic feast where I was to be the meal. I think this one must have come from that carfax.com commercial that has the witch doctor on it. I think I recognize that guy at the feast.

Those three days held many other great adventures. I struggled through a wasteland covered with shards of dead trees and old rusted automobiles while forced to breathe stale parched air that seemed to lack oxygen. I was so tired of walking, but I couldn’t stop until I reached the end. I just couldn’t find the end.

I did drink lots of water. I ate oranges. I wanted to take lots of baths, but when I wobbled into the bathroom and couldn’t figure out which way to turn the faucet for hot or cold, I gave up and went back to bed.

I have no way of knowing how high my fever went as it was the third day before I had the strength to search through the cabinet for my Sponge Bob thermometer. I figured my fever had burned itself out by that time and was surprised to find the thermometer registering 101.9 degrees.

I’ve talked to others who have had pretty much the same thing and everyone seems to agree that it’s the sickest they have been in years. It made me feel a smidgen better to hear that it wasn’t just me that spent a few extremely agonizing days doing battle with an invisible enemy.

It’s not that I want others to be sick; I was just worried that between withdrawing from Dr. Pepper and the many maladies middle-age women experience, I was going to feel like this forever. Talking with Lee Wade put my mind at ease. He had this "thing" also, and he doesn’t drink pop and well, the other mentioned maladies are non-applicable soooooo I knew this "thing" was bad all by itself.

Many times over the years, when things get a little rough, I always wonder what lesson I should be learning. Part of this may come from wanting to be a better person, but most of it is probably because I don’t like difficult times. If there is a lesson to learn, let’s learn it and move on to better times.

This "thing" made me realize just how quickly and easily I can breeze through someone’s account of their illness or injury without slowing down and really listening. It’s not that I don’t care; I hate hearing that people are sick or injured. I am fortunate to enjoy good health most of the time and sometimes I don’t stop to think about what my life would be like if I hurt all of the time. After a few days of feeling totally awful, it made me think of all of the people who are in constant pain and how they can possibly manage to function in life. If this is something I need to be learning, I’m writing it down on a sticky note so I don’t forget. I definitely do not want to have to repeat this lesson.

Also, Daylight Saving Time begins in a short few weeks with spring following shortly after. We can make it!

Also, have an excellent and healthy week!

I started drinking it regularly in 1989. I liked the taste, the caffeine gave me that kick to make it through my day and it was my reward for finishing any unpleasant task I had in front of me.

Starting out, I don’t think I drank it every day. With four small children, money was not plentiful, but I do remember treating myself to a bottle as often as possible.

Over the years, it was my constant "friend". When my feelings were hurt, I had a Dr. Pepper. When I was angry, I had a Dr. Pepper. When I was happy, I had a Dr. Pepper. Getting out of bed in the morning was tolerable because I had a Dr. Pepper waiting for me. I looked forward to my evening Dr. Pepper as a way to wind down after a busy day. I can’t tell you when I became physically addicted, but I have known it for a long time. I have been failing in my New Year resolutions to quit for at least 10 years, if not more.

Cravings attacked me even when I was totally emerged in an activity where I was using both mental and physical. I don’t know when the physical addiction was joined by a psychological one; I just know that I found contentment in having a 20 ounce bottle of Dr. Pepper sitting beside me.

The bottle became an extension of me. Having the bottle in my hands, hearing the hiss when I unscrewed the cap, smelling the tangy smell were all included in my "need" for Dr. Pepper.

I craved the feel of the fizzing liquid as it hit the back of my throat and could tell by the way I felt when the level of Dr. Pepper in my blood dropped. I planned ahead and made sure I had plenty of Dr. Pepper in the house and became agitated if I ran low late in the evening.

Dr. Pepper even became part of my identity. The cashiers at Whites and EZ Mart would remark if I made purchases that did not include Dr. Pepper. When my children would see something with Dr. Pepper on it, they thought of me.

I have been two weeks without that sweet tasting elixir; two weeks of mourning the passing of a friend; two weeks since that ambrosial poison has flowed down my throat to wreak havoc on my body. You may think that poison is too strong of word to use for a soft drink, but actually, it may not be strong enough.

The listed ingredients in Dr. Pepper are carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, caramel color, phosphoric acid, natural and artificial flavors, sodium benzoate and caffeine.

Carbonated water is made by pumping carbon dioxide into water or other liquid. Carbon dioxide is a waste product of cellular and food metabolism and is what our body expels. I’m sure our respiratory systems really appreciate our unnecessary intake of carbon dioxide since it is working so hard to inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide.

Commonly called HFCS, high fructose corn syrup is an interesting ingredient. It is used in food and drinks as a cheap replacement for sugar. Another name that HFCS goes under is crystalline fructose. Due to the concentration of this ingredient; a 20 ounce bottle of Dr. Pepper contains the equivalent of 17 teaspoons of sugar. Included in the medical problems HFCS can cause is an increased risk of osteoporosis, type 2 diabetes, heart disease, obesity and accelerated aging. With having fructose in the name, it sounds just a tiny bit healthy. There is not one thing positive about HFCS except to the manufacturers who are making millions off of this health hazard.

Sorry, but you are no better off drinking diet soft drinks. Aspartame has been linked to insomnia, depression and to some kinds of cancer. Research has also shown that consuming aspartame increases your appetite and cravings for carbohydrates.

Caramel color is obtained by heating sugar until a brown color develops. Caramel coloring has negative genetic effects and is a cancer-causing agent.

Phosphoric acid is as scary as it sounds. It will interfere with the body’s ability to use calcium which will cause the decay of teeth and osteoporosis. It will also neutralize the acid in your stomach which will affect the way your body utilizes nutrients.

Then you have all of the natural and artificial flavors. They surely can’t be as harmful as the ingredients that are specifically listed, but who really knows?

Sodium benzoate is a preservative that is derived from benzoic acid. It occurs naturally in berries, but is used in huge quantities in some soft drinks and foods to prevent mold. Research shows that this preservative causes serious damage to cells and has the ability to switch off vital parts of DNA. This causes problems that are usually connected to aging and alcoholism. The constant consumption of this preservative can lead to cirrhosis of the liver and other degenerative diseases such as Parkinson’s. This totally destroys my superior remark that, "at least my addiction isn’t to whiskey." You may not get a DUI when drinking Dr. Pepper, but you still end up with a diseased liver.

Last but not least is caffeine, my favorite. Information on this drug is contradictory to say the least. Caffeine is said to increase mental function and alertness and lesson muscle pain after vigorous exercise. Other studies have shown that not only does it cause high blood pressure, high cholesterol levels and vitamin and mineral depletion, it also causes anxiety and feelings of aggression.

Did I know about how detrimental Dr. Pepper was to the body all of the years I drank it? Not totally, but I knew it was bad. Is it hard to go through every day without a Dr. Pepper within reach? You bet your worst cravings it is. Do I regret my years and years of Dr. Pepper abuse? I do with all of my being. Will I ever drink Dr. Pepper again? There is a large black skull and crossbones splashed across the Dr. Pepper label that is burned into my brain and I will never drink it again. There is not one petty excuse, my lack of self-control or one of my whiney-baby rationalizations worth losing my eyesight over.

You may think I’m on my soapbox because I’m giving up my addiction of choice, but the facts are the facts and they are not hard to find if you are looking for them.

This column came about from talking to Susan Raleigh, the USD #254 school health nurse, in an Alco checkout line. I was telling her about giving up Dr. Pepper after a visit to the eye doctor. After being asked several times if diabetes ran in my family, I got the idea. I was given much stronger contacts and instructed to get my blood tested. Susan then mentioned that she had made contracts with the students to give up pop for a day. Only a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to honestly sign such a contract.

It is sad that soft drinks have become an issue for elementary age children. We as parents shudder in frustrated anger if we find our children experimenting with tobacco products. Our minds recoil at the thought that our children could ever become drug users. We caution our youth on the disastrous effects of using alcohol. We watch our children drink pop, an addictive liquid that will damage every part of their bodies, without nothing more than a light admonition.

After almost a decade of working for The Gyp Hill Premiere, my desk has become the parking place for several signs. One that I have found humorous and quite true over the years, "If it weren’t for CAFFEINE , I’d have no personality at all!" has lost its zing as I struggle with losing the zip that I thought kept me going. Now I prefer my sign, "Thank You For Not Being Perky".

How much Dr. Pepper is safe? That is your choice. Compare it to other poisons. How much antifreeze are you willing to consume daily? How large of dose of arsenic would be too much to give to your children along with their vitamins? How much cyanide is too much? Dr. Pepper may act slower than the above mentioned poisons, but I guarantee you, soft drinks will damage your body slowly and quietly until the results can no longer be ignored.

Also, have an excellent week!

There are weeks that it is hard to find the time to sit long enough to get a column written. There are weeks that my mind is cluttered with so many personal issues that it is hard to find enough clarity to put a group of words together that make any sense. Then there are those weeks that my mind seems to be a useless part of my body that is just along for the ride. You put all of those kinds of weeks together and it doesn’t leave many easy weeks.

There are some advantages. I can vent about pet peeves. I can brag on my children and grandchildren. I can publicly defend myself instead of wasting my time thinking about all of the things I should have said.

I guess that is kind of what I’m doing this week. After mentioning how much I like Aesop’s Fables last week in my column, I heard a few negative comments on the value these fables are to today’s life.

According to the Greek historian Herodotus, the fables were invented and written by a slave named Aesop who lived in ancient Greece during the 6th century BC. Well over 600 fables have been contributed to being written by Aesop. Most have to do with the imaginary adventures of animals which acted and spoke like humans. Each fable is designed to teach a lesson.

Now I believe that if one is looking for a navigational source to living your life, The Bible is the best source one can turn to for guidance. I would never, never, never suggest any other literary source could exceed the counsel, instructions and advice the "good book" has to offer. One can find not only how to treat your neighbors and conduct your business and financial affairs, but it is also an excellent behavioral management manual.

Aesop’s Fables do not seem to stray far from the direction the Bible takes.

For example, the well known fable, The Ant and the Grasshopper, teaches that one must exert effort and prepare for the future. The ants worked hard all summer to store food for the winter months while the grasshoppers played and danced. When the winter months descended on them with icy fury, the ants were ready while the grasshoppers were without the necessary food to make it through the winter.

Another fable that most people are familiar with is The Lion and the Mouse. A mouse was unfortunate enough to awaken a lion from his nap and was caught in the lion’s large paw. The mouse begged for his life and promised to repay the lion if he would let him go. Although amused to think that the small mouse would ever be able to help him, the lion agreed to let the scared rodent loose. On down the road, the lion was caught in a hunter’s net and the mouse chewed through the ropes to give the lion his freedom. What better example of what goes around comes around. Kindness is never a waste of time.

Yet another famous fable is The Tortoise and the Hare. After being challenged to a race, the slow tortoise won the race by being persistent, consistent and steady. The hare, in his arrogance of being the quicker of the two, lost from being unable to focus on reaching the goal without wavering from the course.

The Jackass and the Mule tells the story of the two animals on a journey with the jackass carrying a heavy load. When the jackass asked the mule for help carrying his load, the mule rejected the jackass’s plea. Eventually the jackass fell down dead and the mule had to carry the entire load. This fable teaches us that in the long run it is a lot better for us to help the jackasses in our life, than deal with the consequences of withholding our help.

How about The Shepherd’s Boy? This is the story of a bored little boy tending the sheep. Wanting a little excitement, he screams "wolf" and when all the village men came out to help him save the sheep, they find there is no wolf. That excitement wore off soon and he cried "wolf" again. Here came all the villagers again and they were a little ticked that he had lied to them again. A few days later a wolf did show up to feast on his sheep and the boy once more hollered "wolf". Tired of being lied to, the people in the village ignored him and you can imagine the consequences. This short story gives you a pretty good idea what happens to liars. After being caught lying, be it a black lie or just a little teeny tiny white lie, people will stop believing any of the words that come out of your mouth.

The Dog and the Shadow tells of a dog crossing a bridge with a piece of meat in his mouth. Looking down into the water he sees a dog with a piece of meat in his mouth that sure looked much larger. He grabbed for the other dog’s meat which resulted in him losing his in the swift current. This is a perfect lesson in being contented with what you have instead of trying to grab something bigger and better than your neighbors.

The list of character building morals that you can retrieve from these fables go on and on. Many of these little stories are not happy feel good comedies, but end in some disastrous tragedy. Warning us about some of the pitfalls of life, some fables caution us about pride and arrogance; hanging out with the wrong crowd; trying to please everybody; self-interest, fair-weather friends; dishonesty; cowardice; counting your chickens before they are hatched and the circumstances to heed when dealing with wealth and fame. Some of the admirable traits other fables encourage are gratitude, forgiveness, unity, love and sharing.

Whether the parables of Jesus or the fables of Aesop, these short stories are loaded with camouflaged wisdom. They provide a gentle, kind and non-judgmental way of giving instruction on what and what not to do in your life. Instead of just reaching out and slapping you upside the head, the fables make you think as they caution you about your wrongdoings and inspire you to do what’s right.

Also, have an excellent week!

Well, time has marched on and the old way of letting your fingers wander through the pages of a book of knowledge has been replaced by the technically advanced method of letting your fingers wander over the keyboard taking you directly to Google.

I google a lot! My mind will be wandering through some foggy maze out in the left field of my imagination and I run head long into a question. I google. When I get bored with whatever else I’m doing on the computer; I google. When I want to do some comparison shopping or just wander the aisles of the cybermarkets, I google.

Biographies have always been one of my favorite choices when given a selection of reading materials. Due to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday being January 15 and observed January 21 this year, his name came up on a random site I was sifting through.

I knew that he was an assassinated civil rights leader and remember phrases from his "I Have a Dream" speech, but that was the extent of my knowledge of this man born in Alabama in 1929.

I settled into my chair and began to read biographical information from several of the different sites.

I learned that although he was named Michael Luther King, Jr. at birth, he changed his name to Martin Luther after Martin Luther, the leader of the great religious revolt of the sixteenth century in Germany. He followed in his grandfather and father’s footsteps by graduating from Morehouse College in 1948 with a B. A. degree. He then attended the Crozer Theological Seminary for three years in Pennsylvania before receiving his doctorate degree in 1955 from the Boston University.

He married Coretta Scott and they became parents of two sons and two daughters. He was a member of the executive committee of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. He became the leader of the first great Negro nonviolent demonstration of contemporary times in the United States. The bus boycott lasted 382 days and caused the Supreme Court of the United States to declare the laws requiring segregation on buses to be unconstitutional. During this time, King was arrested, he suffered abuse and his home was bombed. He emerged from this boycott as a nationally known civil rights leader.

Between 1957 and 1968 he traveled over six million miles and spoke over twenty-five hundred times. He was arrested approximately twenty times and assaulted at least four times. He directed the peaceful march on Washington , D.C. where in front of 250,000 people he delivered his address, "I Have a Dream." He was awarded five honorary degrees and was named Man of the Year by Time magazine in 1963. At the age of thirty-five, Martin Luther King, Jr., was the youngest man to have received the Nobel Peace Prize. After receiving notification of the award, he announced he would turn the prize money of $54,123 over to the furtherance of the civil rights movement.

King was in Memphis, Tennessee on April 4, 1968 where he was planning a protest march in sympathy for striking garbage workers. He was assassinated that evening while standing on the balcony of his motel room.

I was impressed by the dedication and perseverance demonstrated by this man’s actions. I sat in my chair and thought of the horror King’s family suffered through. My interest was captured and I went on to another site.

Unlike reading the encyclopedia, there are many entries relating to the same individual. The next site I went to told a different story.

This site told the story of a man who plagiarized most of his papers in college and much of the writing in his books. Included in the information were suggestions that he was affiliated with the Communists and was being investigated by the FBI. These files have been sealed from the American public until 2027. Other accusations included mismanagement of money, illicit sexual practices and a variety of other misdeeds unbecoming to a Nobel Peace Prize winner.

The Reverend Ralph David Abernathy, a close friend and advisor to King wrote an autobiography in 1989 named And the walls came tumbling down. I googled Abernathy and found that he died shortly after his book was published. Many felt the uproar from his published book hastened his death. In his book he not only told the story of the struggles that he and King endured for the civil rights movement, but also a story that many of the followers of King felt was the confessions of a traitor.

After reading several accounts of the same man with so many discrepancies, I was confused. How could a man fight so hard for freedom for his people and still associate with Communists? How could a family man participate in the reported sexual activities? How could the winner of a Nobel Peace Prize, a leader seeking change in a peaceful manner, engage in violent activities? How could a man who preached God’s love from the pulpit justify his actions that reflected the hate of man?

I don’t have the answers. Google didn’t seem to have the answers either. It did make for an interesting evening of reading and left me with a curiosity of what they will find in those files in 2027.

I did find the night of reading a reminder that even if a man is put on a pedestal, he still isn’t perfect.

So if you get tired of ogling the television on these long cold winter nights, try googling the computer and delve into all of the info that is floating around out there in cyperspace; oh, and you can find all of Aesop’s Fables too.

Also, have an excellent week!

Their daily activities took a lot longer to accomplish and was much less convenient compared to ours today. Automatic washers, dryers, dishwashers, microwaves and all of the other handy kitchen gadgets on the market today allows our everyday duties and responsibilities to be done quickly and with a lot less effort.

With all of these time saving devices available, where is all of that saved time going? Why don’t we have time to spend with our families and friends? Why don’t we have time to slow down to take a few minutes to show kindness to those we come in contact with through the day? Why don’t we have time for those front-porch, neighborhood, bonding, feel-good get-togethers that was once enjoyed and the foundation of most peoples’ social life.

Granted, we have had a few extra things added to our daily itineraries. We now have several favorite TV shows a week that we have to tune in to and of course all of our e-mail that seems impossible to stay up with and texting on the cell phone does take up lots of time.

We rush around in our own busy little worlds with good intentions that never culminate into actions. It doesn’t seem right or wrong, it just seems like life.

Then somebody screeches to a stop and shows you an act of kindness, a kind word or a friendly smile. It makes you think and it certainly makes you appreciative.

A woman took time out of her busy life to stop me in the grocery store the other night and shower me with kind words. It hadn’t been a good day and those words washed off a lot of the day’s dirt. We camped in one of the aisles and talked for a while. I walked out of the grocery store feeling so much better than when I had walked in and it had nothing to do with Dr. Pepper this time.

That encounter got me thinking about kindness and how kindness can change lives.

I remember a neighbor that lived across the street from us when I was growing up. Mrs. Banks was not in good health. Her gnarled body moved painfully slow as she tended to the needs of her beautiful African Violets. Her bent form distorted by a dowager’s hump camouflaged the necessity of her having to view everything at nose length. Only when you noticed how thick her glasses were in front of her small watery eyes did you realize that the woman was almost blind.

As a child, none of that registered with me. She was just Mrs. Banks. She would pay me for bunches of wild asparagus I would pick for her. She paid me for mowing her large lawn when I could barely see over the lawnmower handle. She was my main source of income that allowed me to buy all of those five cent packages of M & M’s, my addiction at the time.

She never talked much. Hindsight tells me it was because talking was probably pretty uncomfortable for her as every movement made by her mouth resulted in the clickity-clack of her ill-fitting dentures. She would point out her newest flowers, request my help in her daily endeavors and remind me when there would be good shows on TV.

This was the 1960s and we did not have a television at our house. She would invite me to her house in the evenings to watch The Beverly Hillbillies, The Andy Griffith Show, Dick Van Dyck Show and specials that she thought I would enjoy. I would sit on a vinyl covered loveseat with the upholstery tacks biting into the backs of my legs and enjoy every black and white show I watched with her.

Along with her other maladies, she also suffered from some sort of lung problem. She would cough and hack and spit into a glass jar she kept by her side. There was no way to avoid watching her discomfort as she had to sit within inches of the screen to be able to make out the characters providing the entertainment. The closeness made it convenient for her to adjust the rabbit ears when the picture became fuzzy or to reach for the TV Guide, press it up to her face and using a magnifying glass, check on the upcoming programs.

None of the sounds and sights mattered to me. What mattered was that she took time for me and seemed to enjoy the time we spent together.

When she took a trip or spent time in the hospital, I took care of her plants. I took my time and watered them exactly the way she showed me. I mixed up the concoctions and carefully measured the amount of nourishment I gave each plant. I made sure I didn’t splash water on the leaves and each time I checked the dirt in exactly the same way she showed me.

Of course I didn’t psychologically analyze it at the time, but her kindness to me motivated me to do my very best in everything I did for her.

Kindness creates a cycle. When kindness is shown to an individual, many times that individual passes it on and it becomes as a stone thrown into the water and the ripples extends long past the time the stone hits bottom.

When we take the time to show kindness to others, the ripple effect will continue its outward flow and result in many acts of kindness.

When we are spending our social interactive time on the computer instead of with our family and friends, googling "random acts of kindness" is worth the time. There is actually a foundation which is committed to spreading kindness. Reading examples of kindness and the results and rewards should be a motivating means of starting our own cycle of kindness.

Also, thanks Teresa and Juanita for your kindness. I really appreciate your time and words.

Also, if anybody out there has had a child or knows of a child with Perthes Disease; I would appreciate hearing from you. Michael Ray will be having surgery soon and both legs will be placed in Petri casts with a bar keeping his legs in a V position. This will take many adjustments including learning how to manage a wheelchair, transportation and hygiene. It would be great to be able to go into the game knowing a few rules. I can be reached at 620-886-3248.

Also, have you talked to Cliff and Gayla McKinney lately?

Also, have an excellent week as you start the new year with some random acts of kindness!

With this being the first full year of being in my fifties, I feel like I’m stepping into another stage of my life. I know that it is usually called middle age, but I think that I’m going to call it the re age.

Please let me explain. After you get a few decades behind you, I believe that you begin to reflect on your life. You reassess your beliefs, your priorities, hopes, goals and dreams. You refocus to find what is most important to you at this stage of your life. You review your life thus far and are relieved when you recognize your positive actions and deeds and you recoil in regret and remorse when your realize all of your screw ups.

When I look at my first decade, I can recall that child but it’s hard for me to reconcile the fact the she is me. That child was pretty tough and strong-willed, but she had her ways to relax and rejuvenate. Her ears would pick up the clanging of harnesses and rumble of wagon wheels when her reclusive neighbor would hitch up his team of horses to head to town. The old man would rein in his horses and sit patiently when he saw the child running towards him. He wouldn’t help the girl onto the wagon and never talked much, but he always had cellophane wrapped caramels to share and occasionally let her hold the reins and guide the horses down the road. She would wait in the wagon and talk to the horses and daydream while he ran his errands in town. It never crossed the little girl’s mind that his was the only wagon and horses on the street or that her neighbor was rather short and round and hygiene- challenged or they were traveling a lot slower than the cars whizzing past them. It was a time that her world was safe and okay and her mind could wander. It was a time of replenishment, restoration and refueling of that child’s resources and a refuge when life became too restricted and repetitious.

I want to reestablish that trait in my present day existence. I want to naturally know when I need a renewal and search for that escape without worrying about what other people are thinking and how fast I have to hurry in my resolution to achieve relaxation.

As I think back on my rebellious years, I wonder if there was anything worth redeeming out of those years. I remember some of the most memorable times were those I was impulsive and reckless. We lived a couple of blocks from a wooded area that I played in while growing up. The area was still intact when Ray and I started hanging out. We would spend hours in the woods with friends climbing the skinny trees. Once at the top, the tree would bend and you could either grab another tree on the way down or just hang on for the ride until you got close enough to the ground to let go. Well, our little paradise was invaded by a sawmill and the trees were chopped down. In their place was a humongous pile of sawdust. We discovered that burying ourselves on a cold winter day in that sawdust kept us warm and toasty as we carried on our teenage conversations. It probably wasn’t very safe, but the bunch of us made some good memories in our sawdust sauna.

I want to recoup that impulsiveness to try new things, and get out of my ruts instead of repressing any feeling of spontaneity and missing out on some remarkable experiences in the name of playing it safe.

My third decade was ten years of rewarding reproduction, nurturing and responsibility. It was reforming to move from a selfish stage into a period of time where there was absolutely no room for selfish behavior. As we welcomed four little people into our lives, our lives revolved around their wants and needs. I was amazed everyday with their looks and their actions. I loved my children so much and each day brought new stories as they tumbled through life.

I want to recapture those feelings of wonder; I want to return to the sensitivity where laughter could render me a helpless mass of giggles just watching a child play. I never want to become so self-centered that I cannot be a nurturing mother and grandmother.

My thirties was a revelation of real life. I was so busy with the job, cooking, cleaning, laundry; and dealing with all of the many relationships, that decade flew by in a blur. My life required 100 percent of me with no reprieve, no recess; no opportunity to recede into a reclusive state of mind. It was a time of dealing with teenagers, hurting over their hurts and trying to control the urge to pinch their little heads off their bodies when they had done something stupid. It was a decade of being resigned to sleepless nights and frustrating days.

If there is anything I got out of that decade, it is that I always want to want to give 100 percent to the important people and things in my life. Realistically, I may not be able to, but I want the "want to" to always be there.

Things slowed down in my fifth decade. I started being a little more reasonable with dealing with myself and stopped expecting so much from me. I spent time recuperating from the previous decade and the relentless demands. I relinquished many of my old ways of thinking and became more open-minded. I experienced a resurgence of old dreams, hobbies and my love of reading.

This rendezvous with reliving my past decades reveals why this time of reminiscing, reviewing, reckoning and recollecting should be called the re age instead of middle age.

Also, have an excellent week and a really refreshing, rejuvenating, restful and rewarding New Year!

You find yourself sitting on the starting line, one quivering foot on the clutch and the other on the accelerator, breathlessly waiting for the signal that the race is on. The awaited signal is flashed and the clutch pops and the accelerator is stomped as the tires squeal in response. Your heartbeat accelerates with the speed as you listen closely to your engine, pushing each gear to its limit before shifting to the next. The smell of burning rubber wafts in the window fueling your adrenaline rush as the trees become a blur in your peripheral vision. The finish line of the quarter mile stretch comes in to view about the same time you know your engine is rapped out at top speed. You allow yourself a 15 second giggle when you realize that the arrogant guy with the hotter car has crossed the finish line a half car length behind you. You put on your "cool" face when you return to the starting line to check out how long of blackie you left on your quick start.

Nope, that’s not the burnout I’m talking about. In fact, the burnout I’m talking about has quite the opposite effect on you.

I’m talking about holiday burnout. You know you are dangerously close when you have to force your resistant body out of bed each morning. When you find yourself with the bah humbug attitude instead of one of joy, excitement and ho ho ho, you probably have already reached the burnout stage.

The holidays add an extra strain to already bulging schedules. Finances can be overwhelming all year long and then the gift buying season rolls around. Tight budgets explode and money management becomes a conglomerated mess that will continue to haunt you in the months to come.

Mixed in with the chaos is the tap dancing to try to please everyone on your Christmas list and the fear that you forgot to add someone’s name. Every waking minute is spent in preparation for the upcoming holiday celebration. Cleaning, shopping, cooking, planning and wrapping gifts leaves you exhausted as you drop in to bed each night.

When you find your life buried in this holiday hustle, it’s time to stop and take a break. Really, think about it. Is everything going to fall apart if you take just a bit of time for yourself? If you will do something to rejuvenate your tired being, you will become much more productive in your quest for the perfect Christmas.

Below is a list of ten suggestions that you can feel free to customize to your own likes and dislikes. Make sure you do something for you everyday and it’ll make it so much easier to do all that stuff for others.

1) Take a walk. No matter how cold it is outside, with enough layers of clothes you’ll be as comfy as you are on a springtime walk. The brisk air will invigorate your body, mind and spirit.

2) Burn a holiday scented candle. When your olfactory nerve smells something yummy, it’ll trick the rest of your body into being happy.

3) Listen to music. Here again is a subject with some scientific backup that proves that music does some jangling of the functions of the brain that relieves stress and causes a feeling of happiness and contentment.

4) Take an hour to sit down in front of the TV and watch Law and Order or whatever your favorite program is. Eat a bowl of hot, nutritious stew and just forget everything you have to do for just a little while.

5) Call an optimistic friend for a catch-up chat.

6) What makes you laugh really hard? Do it everyday! It’ll make taking those deep breaths fun.

7) Take a drive around town, through Sharon or even to Pratt and enjoy the Christmas lights. They are only lit up once a year and they are not just for children.

8) Look around and find someone who looks more stressed than you and invite them out to lunch or send them a funny card or e-mail.

9) Write a letter of appreciation to someone that made a difference in your life in the past year.

10) Spend some time meditating on the real meaning of Christmas and then share your thoughts with those you love. It will help prioritize your frenzied activities.

Now if you just can’t bring yourself to reign it in and you are afraid to break your holiday stride, then rev up your engines, pop your clutch and keep your eyes on the finish line!

I’ve always made yearly resolutions and I have failed every year. You would think that I would give up but nooooooooooo, I can feel myself gearing up to try one more year. Maybe now that I have hit the middle age of 50 I will finally be able to find the self-control and self-discipline somewhere within me to actually be successful this year.

I’m going to be doing things differently this time around. For the last several years, quitting Dr. Pepper has been in the top five personal goals I set for myself. Every year by late January 2, I have searched through my large bag of excuses and found a perfect reason why I deserved a Dr. Pepper and that was that. Actually, that’s the way it’s been with all of my resolutions in the past, well, ever since I started making resolutions. Due to my history, I have decided to make only one resolution this year instead of my usual list of 10 or more.

My New Year’s Resolution for 2008 is to not be a grouchy, grumpy, gripey and grumbley old lady.

I am not wimping out by dropping my list to a single resolution. It may only be one resolution, but it covers a lot of territory. This resolution will require me to make daily self-inspections and be conscientious in renewing my goal for the year one day at a time. I will have to be diligent in self-examination and constant with tweaking the knobs of my behavior. I’ve done a lot of thinking on the subject and I think that if I’m ever going to make some serious changes in my life, I had better get at it.

I’ve been thinking about all the reasons a person loses their feelings, flair, fascination and faith, giving up the fight and becoming forlorn in their life.

I believe that many times pain is a major component when a person becomes an irritable, ill-mannered, impatient and indignant individual. It is really, really hard to be sunshine and smiles when you are in pain. Although pain is not totally avoidable, taking care of one’s health is the number one way to lessen your chances of having physical ailments constantly attacking your body.

I think another explanation for somebody being less than agreeable, abrasive, aggravating and aggressive would be attitude. Once you lose an attitude of gratitude for everyone and everything in your life, your thoughts turn to everything you don’t have and your list of resentments and regrets begin to grow. It is hard to smile and laugh if you are buried in a suffocating pile of bitterness.

Being self-absorbed and selfish would be another shortcut to being a sad, stingy, sullen and snappish person. If we get busy helping others, we are not going to have a whole lot of time to sit around and feel sorry for ourselves.

Allowing your social life to become non-existent is yet another cause for charcters to become critical, cranky, crabby and cantankerous. It has been scientifically proven that people who have a good strong social support system live a happier and healthier life.

I believe people become disgruntled, disagreeable, discontented and dissatisfied as they age if they do not keep their spiritual lives healthy. As we leave the 20s, 30s and 40s behind, we lose the attitude of living forever. We have to start facing our own mortality when we read the obituary page and find many much younger than us listed there.

Other ways to avoid being mad, melancholy, miserable and malcontent is to continue learning. Whether you decide to go back to school, learn how to operate some newfangled technological equipment or help a third grader with their homework, learning will give your mind some much needed aerobic activity.

Ummmkay, see what I mean? This resolution covers every resolution I have ever made and more. I’m just hoping that if I tuck all of my previous New Year’s Resolutions inside one resolution I will have more success in accomplishing my goals. I figure in my struggle to avoid becoming a touchy, testy, tedious and temperamental terror, I will have to make some pretty major changes in my life.

By this time 2008, I will be a happy, healthy, helpful and hormonally-balanced 51 year old woman who doesn’t drink Dr. Pepper. I say that as I prepare to practice being predominantly positive, patient, peaceful and peppy in my goal to be pleasant!

Also, have an excellent week as the holiday season descends upon us in its furious frenzy and fury.

I recently spent a few days with my youngest grandson, Evan Robert Hembree. I tried really hard to be a good mother and did some laundry, a little cleaning and a lot of cooking, but being grandma was topmost in my mind.

After a traumatic entry into the world, every noise Evan makes seems pretty special and reassuring. His constantly changing expressions go from angelic to the pursed lips and frowning concentration of a fighter trained in the martial arts. His early displayed exuberance in dealing with all of the normal functions of the body brings a humorous relief to the hearts of those who had worried and prayed so hard for Evan in the first hours of his life.

Evan is our second baby born into our family this year. Marie was born March 8. I wondered how I would feel about another baby when I was already so tangled around a little girl's finger. I shouldn't even have wasted my time thinking in that direction. Not only are we capable of loving multiple children and grandchildren, our hearts have the flexibility to stretch and wrap and entangle each new baby in an individual hammock of that forever kind of love. It didn’t take long before Evan had me feeling the stretching and expanding of my heart as I fell completely in love with our newest little miracle.

When I look into the faces of my grandchildren, I remember staring in wonder at the faces of my babies as they familiarized themselves with the world. I will never forget the silent promises I made within my mind and my heart when I looked into my children's eyes.

As parents, we want our children to have more and better than we had ourselves. We work hard to buy those little expensive brand name tennis shoes that they will outgrow in two weeks. We want them to have the best in clothes, toys, education and experiences. We hurt when we see our children disappointed for whatever reason and renew our goal to give them the best.

Unfortunately, in our over-zealous method of parenting, we end up instilling an attitude in our children that lacks patience, tolerance or understanding. Our children become spoiled brats that won't settle for anything less than the best and we as parents are exasperated and wonder what went wrong.

The 1900s found each generation striving to make life better for their children than what they had. Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting better for our children, but there definitely needs to be a balance.

I look back on the years that our four were growing up. The mistakes we made as parents are sure a lot easier to see now than they were when we were making them. I remember nights of agonizing over ways to financially provide the extras for four children. It was impossible for us to afford much more than the day-to-day basic needs for our family of six.

If we had been financially capable, I would have been guilty of handing my children everything their little hearts desired. I would have excused the excess by using the philosophy of me wanting to give them more than what I had growing up.

Hindsight tells me that some of the best things we did for our children were the things that we did not do for them. I am so proud of all four of them and what they have achieved, but I think the things we could not give them contributed more to the way they are today than the things we were able to give them.

"What does not kill us will only make us stronger." Many individuals that have experienced very little adversity mixed into their life are weak, without depth of character or the strength to persevere when the going gets tough.

When we focus on giving our children more and better than what we had, we should be more concerned about building their strength to withstand life's chaos, their spiritual stability, their tolerance, patience, compassion and understanding, than what we can financially provide for them.

Although our children are financially capable of giving more material possessions to their children than what they had, I pray God gives them the wisdom to know when to give and when not to. I hope they find that balance that enables their children to grow healthy, strong and unspoiled. The job of spoiling belongs to us grandparents.

Don’t get me wrong, I want the best for my grandchildren. Just the thought of them being in pain or sad or without something they need brings on some pretty intense feelings. I want them to be good people and sometimes good doesn’t come easy.

For now, I am blessed with the cloud-splitting sunshine that nine month old Marie shares with those in her midst. I am challenged by the antics of Michael Ray as he struggles with fitting his school work around physical therapy three times a week. I’m excited about watching Evan’s personality develop and getting to know the newest member of our family. When talking with Marissa, I am always left in awe at her metamorphosis from child to young woman.

Generations will continue coming and going. It is this generation’s responsibility to make sure that the upcoming generation has the strength and character to be a better generation than the one before!

Also, have an excellent week!

On Christmas Eve in 1822, Moore composed a poem, A Visit from St. Nicholas, for his children. Being a dour, straitlaced academician, he refused to have the poem published despite its enthusiastic reception by everyone who read it. Despite his argument that the poem was beneath his dignity, the poem found its way into the mass media when a family member submitted it to an out-of-town newspaper. Although the poem became an overnight sensation, Moore would not acknowledge authorship of it until fifteen years later when he reluctantly included it in a volume of collected works. He referred to the poem as "a mere trifle", but the irony of this story is that Professor Clement Clarke Moore is now remembered for nothing else but this poem. We know the poem as Twas the Night Before Christmas.

Below is my version as I deal with my own personal struggles on how to handle the Christmas season.

Also, have an excellent week and holiday season!

There were no cries echoing through the room, only the hurrying scurrying medical professionals as they worked on his limp little body.

There was some serious praying going on by the occupants of that room. The atmosphere was thick with fear as we listened to the whooshing air and the quiet counts as they performed CPR. Strangling tentacles of fear wrapped tightly around our throats and tightened with each passing second we didn’t hear our baby cry. I will never forget the indescribable grief I felt during that short time before we heard his tiny gasping cries.

Both mama and baby encountered complications and were moved from the birthing clinic to the Wesley Hospital.

No longer than thirty minutes after Andrea was moved across the street to the hospital, friends entered the birthing clinic to see her and Evan and were told there was no patients admitted there by that name and no record of having had one.

Okay, a large city like Wichita has so much more to offer in the way of choices than a smaller town. You could eat out every meal at a different dining establishment and it would be a while before you would eat at the same place twice. You also have a multitude of options when it comes to movies and other entertainment. A large city is a shopper’s dream. If you need the newest and best medical procedures and equipment, the large city is where to be. If you crave anonymity, you will be happier in a city.

I grew up in a small town. Even though we have lived in Waco, Temple and close to Fort Worth, Texas, I feel much more comfortable in a town where most everything is within walking distance. I feel much more relaxed walking down the street than driving twenty miles an hour over speed limit just to keep up with the flow of traffic down Kellogg.

After several days in Wichita this past week, I also found I had some issues with volume. There were too many cars, people and streets. There was too much anxiety, stress and chaos. There were too many pregnant women wanting to deliver before Thanksgiving.

The Wesley Birthing Clinic had sixty women scheduled to be induced in the three days before Thanksgiving. This, of course, did not include the women that were doing their thing naturally.

When a woman is having a baby, she needs some individualized attention, not just a body on an assembly line. Maybe if there hadn’t been complications, things would have been different. The human body is not able to function in top form for extended hours without rest and it was evident that the doctors and staff were being pushed to their limits.

Andrea was fortunate to have a nurse named Sheryl for the majority of her labor and delivery and she was wonderful in every way.

Andrea and Evan are doing much better. Daddy Ryan is holding up quite well in his quest for naps between periods of practicing his diaper changing skills. The proud parents are home in Hutchinson with their new baby; excited about being together as a family and very thankful for their baby boy.

I’m glad to be back in Medicine Lodge where people look people in the eyes. Many people in the large cities seem to forget simple manners such as "please", "thank you" and "excuse me". I’m thankful to live in a town where the entire hand is usually used to wave at others and not just one finger.

Don’t get me wrong, I could make it in the city. After days of worry, lack of sleep, jumpy hormones and other irritants I won’t even go into, I found myself standing in the back of an extremely long line at a restaurant on Thanksgiving Day. A gentleman was so busy worrying about the door being open as more people squeezed into the restaurant; he failed to keep moving up in line. He started yelling at us in the back of the line to shut the door and yep, I yelled back!! This is a bit out of character for me and my kids got a little nervous concerning my actions. I was loud, kind of rude and it didn’t help that after closer scrutiny, the guy turned out to be a priest.

It was great to have Seth and Julia’s house to stay at when we weren’t at the hospital and they were fantastic hosts. I am grateful for those who worked on Evan and got him breathing. I appreciate all those who displayed the caring, compassionate attitude of a person whose job was more than just a paycheck. I am very thankful that Evan is alive and doing well. I am really sorry for yelling at the priest and I am ecstatic to be back in Medicine Lodge.

Also, have an excellent week!

My track record with the drug of my choice, caffeine, keeps me quite aware of my lack of self-control and self-discipline when it comes to addictions.

The drugs that really, really frighten me are prescription drugs. You go to the doctor with a problem, a prescription is given and you head for the pharmacy. You did go to the doctor seeking a solution to the problem you are experiencing so it would seem a little ludicrous not to take what was offered.

I was pretty stressed while Julia was deployed. I was worried about Julia and Julia was worried about me. She used the situation to manipulate me into actually showing up for my annual physical. After being poked, prodded and squeezed, the doctor sat down for a chat. She decided I would be better off on anti-depressants. I was feeling sad, depressed and a little crazy so I agreed. The doctor gave me a prescription and a sample to get me started. Before beginning the little pills, I read the pamphlet enclosed with the small bottle. Oh my goodness, there was not one thing I was going through or feeling that was as bad as the long list of serious and painful complications I might experience if I took those pills. I picked up the pamphlet, pills and packaging and promptly put them in the trash.

I was thinking about my close brush with anti-depressants while watching TV one evening. It seemed that nearly every commercial was about some prescription drug.

Sleep aids were offered for those long restless nights. In trade for that good night’s sleep, you risk fertility complications, memory problems, headaches, dizziness and daytime drowsiness. Other concerns connected to the bedtime buddy are changes in behavior and thinking which include agitation, hallucinations, worsening of depression and even suicidal thoughts.

You know all the commercials I’m talking about. They show a happy person smiling because the prescription pills helped them with their health problem. There is sunshine, music and flowers floating around the atmosphere. The commercial ends with a quickly delivered verbal warning on the risks of liver and heart damage and the possibility of a fatal stroke among the list of potential complications caused by the pill. You would then have to get another prescription to alleviate the conditions the first pill caused. Although legal, you could find yourself in as vicious of a cycle of presciption drugs as those addicted to illegal drugs.

There are all kinds of pills to help with "woman problems", but I would rather suffer through a million hot flashes than take a pill that may up my chance of having breast cancer. Although there are some around me that may disagree, I would rather be moody and grumpy than suffer the results of taking some of those helpful medications.

There are pills for "man problems." After a very romantic commercial, the warnings include complications that require a doctor’s attention should they last longer than four hours. I do not care what the situation may be; the results of prescription drugs can be very, very scary!

Am I against prescription drugs? Absolutely not! Among the zillions of drugs out there; many are life saving medicines.

My grandson, Michael Ray, has just been diagnosed with Perthes Disease. This disease is found only in children. Bone death occurs in the ball of the hip due to an interruption in blood flow. The area becomes intensely inflamed and irritated and walking becomes difficult and painful. The treatment includes physical therapy, sometimes surgery, casts and braces.

If there was a pill that would save him from years of physical therapy and pain and reverse the damage that has been done, I would do everything possible to make sure he had the medication. Even if there were scary side-affects, if the drug did the job, I would be all for it.

I guess the thing that troubles me is that I think we look for the answers to all of our health problems to be solved by swallowing a pill. Even if a change in diet, exercise or lifestyle would eventually eliminate the problem, we would prefer to have a quick fix with a pill regardless of the long-term dangers.

I know that if they came up with a pill that kills the addiction to Dr. Pepper, I would be checking out the fine print. If the risks were no worse than headaches and an upset stomach, I would make a doctor’s appointment.

We are careful to read the fine print on our legal documents to avoid financial problems down the road, but we fill our bodies with a variety of medications without reading the fine print to avoid health problems in our future.

When we hear about substance abuse, we think illegal drugs and alcohol. Nope, substance is matter; anything we put into our bodies that is bad for us is substance abuse. This includes food, prescription drugs, pop, nicotine, yep, all substance abuse. We may not end up in court and/or prison for consuming illegal substances, but we can sure turn our bodies into our own private prison of pain by abusing any substance.

Also, speaking of an excess of food, it’s the Thanksgiving season. We have so many things to be thankful for. After our families, homes and jobs, we can all go into specifics that will make our list a long one. Maybe we should all share our list after we share a blessing and before we share our Thanksgiving meal this year.

Also, have an excellent week and a Happy Thanksgiving!

Some professionals relate music and the rhythm to being in the womb and listening to your mama's heartbeat. They believe that the rhythm is what causes the calming effect.

Sometimes I listen to music for that calming effect, other times I listen for exactly the opposite reaction.

There are days I don't want to be at work nor am I motivated to do anything once I do get there. These are the days I turn on the radio and light a candle. Between the fragrance wafting through the air and hearing some good tunes, my energy level escalates and the day is good.

Ronda and I will hear a song we both like and the radio is turned up and it gets us moving. We are very careful not to get carried away as we sit in front of a large window in downtown Medicine Lodge and we have to protect our dignity and class.

Music is not always positive. I'll be the first to agree that there are songs that are written by writers in drug-induced creative stupors and the words are either impossible to understand or better not understood.

Music can affect the listener in a negative way. There have been many aggressive and violent crimes where a contributing factor has been the words in the perpetrator’s choice of music.

Music is a choice. Your choice will affect your mind and your actions. Words of songs stay with you for forever so you need to remember the input, output theory. What goes in comes out.

One song that has stayed with me and I often think about is In the Year 2525 by Richard Evans and produced by Denny Zager and Richard Evans. This song hit number one on the billboard charts on July 12, 1969. The words have become much more believable over the past 30 years. I think of this song when I hear about some of the new inventions in the name of progress. Although the new machines may save time, they also replace the need for human workers.

We look at progress as making life easier. We have definitely accomplished that. Most people no longer work from sunup to sundown doing manual labor. We sit on our backsides and push buttons. We sit in front of computers to shop, fulfill our social needs and pay our bills. We sit in front of the TV and push the remote control. We push the buttons on our microwave, washer and dryer. We push the buttons on our phones to call the doctor to make an appointment to find out why our wrists are hurting so badly.

The entire time we are pushing buttons, we're snacking on fattening food and hoping to find a product offered over the computer or TV that will guarantee weight loss without exerting ourselves or having to change our lifestyles.

Life has gotten way too easy over the years. This song makes me wonder exactly where we are headed in our accelerated efforts to advance, improve and achieve.

At this rate, I don't think it will take us 10,000 years to do ourselves in! If this thought stresses you out, turn on some music, it'll help you relax!

Also, have an excellent week!

October is over and one more Halloween has passed. I am amazed at how much Halloween has changed over the years. I've not had much of a reason to hang out in the Halloween section of a store for several years, but I happened to be in the same store as Michael Ray when he was shopping for his costume.

When I was a kid, we usually made our own costumes. If we were short on time, we found an old sheet, cut out a couple of eye holes and we were good for the go. Other rather easy looks were achieved with old clothes, beads, stuffing, make-up and a variety of other props that came out of the rag box and our imagination.

When Halloween night rolled around, all sorts of funny looking characters could be found walking the streets with grocery sacks in hand. There were hippies, females dressed as males, males dressed as well- endowed females, cowboys, Indians, princesses, pirates, hobos and other characters only known to the garbed child.

We were more concerned with collecting large amounts of candy than what we looked like. The costumes cost very little money and were either absorbed back from where they came from after the day was over or were thrown away.

Now stores have aisles of scary looking costumes that are going to set parents back $15.00 to $20.00. Many of the costumes include garish masks, blood squirting apparatuses or some other creepy selling point that has children begging their parents for the fear provoking attire. Each costume is a miniature freak show, a competition of who can look the most gruesome and hideous for an evening of fun.

Other costumes are so skimpy and revealing they seem to belong in an "adult only" establishment instead of out on the streets on a cold Halloween night.

We then send our normal looking kids out dressed as psycho freaks while praying that normal looking people that are psycho freaks don't harm them.

The real fun begins as the children eat their way through their sack of treasures and become manic and agitated while riding their sugar high.

Okay, that all sounded pretty negative. Actually, I can remember how exciting Halloweens were while growing up. There was a energizing sensation from being out in the cold dark; meeting up with other bizarre trick-or-treaters; trading information on the best houses to hit and the tantalizing smell of the assorted candy piled together. It was an adrenalin high to go through the loot and separate the candy into piles based on taste and preference and then the sugar high took over!

I think I was 16 the last Halloween I dressed up. It was for a party at church and Ray and I decided to wear one pair of extremely large bib overalls. He took one leg and I took the other. It was great for about five minutes; then it was way too much togetherness. Hopping around all night trying to match my hops to Ray's definitely put a limitation to our activity. Bobbing for apples was almost impossible, games were impossible and we didn't think ahead far enough to plan for the results of too much hot chocolate. Not a real smart choice of costumes.

Also, as we move from the Halloween mode into the Thanksgiving mode, this Country has one more reason to be Thankful. Albert Snyder of York, Pennsylvania sued the Westboro Baptist Church after members from the church demonstrated at the March 2006 funeral of his son, Lance Cpl. Matthew Snyder, who was killed in Iraq. Snyder was awarded $11million in compensatory and punitive damages and emotional distress. No amount of money will cover the distress and pain the Phelps’ family has caused, but the money awarded Snyder does send a message. This church, this family has crossed over the line drawn by the First Amendment which guarantees freedom of speech and religion and the people of this Nation have had enough of their abhorrent behavior.

Also, have an excellent week!

My cousin Bud parked a large pontoon boat in our back yard for a couple of years. The boat was my playground, my escape from reality, my chance to have control of my existence for a short time.

My friend Diane and I would run from side to side and make the boat rock back and forth as we bravely struggled to survive the raging storm out on a vast open sea. We loudly hollered instructions back and forth to each other as we fought to weather out the storm and elude the menacing waves. We had some extremely close calls!

Other times the boat was a stage. We would grab an old broken broomstick or equally suitable microphone and strutt to the railing and we would give it our best. It is a really good thing that our closest neighbors were elderly ladies with hearing problems.

We were pretty amazing! We would belt out our version of the Tammy Wynett song, Stand by Your Man followed closely with another popular song she sung, D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Yeah, we did a little Janis Joplin, some Rod Stewart, we were stars!

Nothing came from those childhood games. I did sing a few off-key lullabies to my children and grandchildren and a large collection of CDs. Thank goodness the closest I have come to fighting an angry sea is a windy walk around the Barber County Lake.

Years later I watched my own four kids in their games of imagination and I can see how their games became a part of their future. There were days they played house and dress up, but their favorite imaginary activity was playing office.

Using junk mail and other "office supplies" we picked up, they stamped, approved and filed their many transactions. They were quite organized and serious about their business activities and worked very well together.

Julia always had a leaning towards the medical field. She preferred the office to be a doctor’s office with her being the doctor or nurse and the others doing the paperwork. Now she’s an Ultrasound Tech performing medical procedures on numerous patients every day, but she doesn’t get to escape the paperwork in real life.

Mandy was really in to the office game. Now she is a secretary at the Greensburg City Office and she is finding out there is more to office work than a never ending river of paperwork. She has found there are many more disgruntled people to deal with in real life than in the fantasy world of her childhood.

Andrea liked being a momma to her babies along with her office work. Years down the road from those imaginary roles she is a caseworker with Big Brothers Big Sisters working with kids and doing lots of paperwork. Very soon she will be doing paperwork at home while on maternity leave with baby boy Hembree.

Michael was a willing participant in the office game and was at least as organized as his sisters if not more so. I see that same organization in his manner of taking care of his real life bills. He is now an operator of a rig with paperwork and daily reports to keep up with.

When our children are playing in that facinating land of imagination, we never know what the effect their pastimes are going to have on their future.

Imagination is not just for children. It has been scientifically proven that when those of us wanting to make positive changes in our lives imagine ourselves accomplishing the change, we will be more successful at reaching our goal.

For example, I am trying to imagine my life without my 20 year Dr. Pepper addiction. I imagine how cool and refreshing it is to drink water. I imagine how healthy it would be for my body to consume eight glasses a day and how to schedule and incorporate that amount into my daily life. Unfortunately, the times I find myself most confident in achieving my goal is when my hand is tightly wrapped around a Dr. Pepper bottle.

Imagination is important, but it takes faith, hope and action to bring the change to reality!

Also, have an excellent week!

Although I am going to keep writing my column, I decided that I wanted more freedom in this age and stage of my life. I’m sad, but at the same time, I’m happy that I’ll be able to spend a lot more time with my family.

I look back over the last year and am amazed at how much I have learned. Not only have I learned a lot, I have a whole new appreciation for our community and residents.

This community is filled with people that give of themselves and their time in making this area a great place to live. The members of the School Boards in Barber County spend hours of their time dealing with the financial matters of the Districts along with the other many decisions facing the school systems. The Mayors of Barber County are faced daily with matters that affect their towns. The City Council Members fit hours of decision making into their busy schedules.

We have three County Commissioners with the responsibility of making decisions for the entire County. Also working for our community is the Medicine Lodge Area Chamber of Commerce and Barber County Development. These organizations work hard to ensure our City and County continues to move forward and prosper.

We are fortunate to have a fire department that strives to maintain their equipment in order to be prepared for any emergency that should arise.

Our Barber County Health Department offers services to the County to assist in the resident’s health issues and well-being. We have the Country Club Wellness Center if we choose to incorporate this facility into building and maintaining a healthy body. The Medicine Lodge Memorial Hospital stays consistent in offering their patients the best health care possible. The community has the assurance that our hospital works hard to be prepared for whatever emergency occurs in this area.

Medicine Lodge has a police chief, Brian Miller, who cares about this community and keeping our town a safe place to live. One of our new officers, Gina Paris, is our first female officer in Medicine Lodge.

We have a Sheriff’s Department that rises to the challenge of patrolling all of Barber County including the many rural areas.

Medicine Lodge is fortunate to have a City Crew that does a fantastic job with the streets, removing trash, mowing, animal control, zoning matters and the hundreds of other jobs that fall into their huge job description.

Our churches in this town are alive and active in the community. The ministers stay busy with "behind the scenes" things that are either unknown or under-appreciated.

We are a community that joins together and accomplishes great and mighty things. Groups and organizations get going and things get done. A few examples are the new swimming pool, Blood Drives, Junefest, Octoberfest, The Fishing Derby, Relay for Life, Merchant’s Open House, Rachel’s Challenge and Toys for Tots. Another example is when the funeral possession of Army PFC Chad E. Marsh came through town. Adults and children lined Highway 160 in honor and respect for the fallen soldier and his family. Here’s another one, remember when they were talking about closing the USDA Farm Services Office in Medicine Lodge? The people in this community united and the office remained open. I can tell you yet another incredible time that results were achieved. Jean Rhea stepped forward and asked for assistance in keeping her attacker behind bars. This community rallied behind her and he was denied parole.

Although we may have empty buildings in our community, we are not drying up and blowing away. There are many businesses that have been around a long time and we’ve had several added in the past year. We have seen the change in ownership of Taco Tico and Busters in Sun City, and they are both going strong. We have had Sabina’s Treasures added to our list of businesses in Medicine Lodge; which is directly across the street from another new business, Oxley Enterprises, Inc. Tumbleweeds Nursery opened up on Stolp Street and we have a new bed and breakfast out by Isabel with the ideal name of Wildfire Ranch. Teresa Farrar recently opened up Home Star Quilting on Main Street when she decided to pursue her dreams. A drive down scenic Highway 160 will take you to yet another new business, Pat’s Treasures, in the small town of Wilmore.

I have gained a whole new respect for farming and ranching. After hearing stories from my friend Wes Cline for many years, I knew that farming was not something to do if you weren’t tough and committed. It is not just a job; it is a way of life. Over the past year I have learned a lot more thanks to The Barber County Conservation District, the Boyd Family, Ted Alexander and the many questions Charlie Swayze has answered for me. Their everyday commitment is unbelievable as they struggle with Mother Nature 12 months a year.

This community is blessed with the Lincoln Library. They not only have a huge selection of books and other reading materials for the youngest to the oldest, they also provide other programs and services for their patrons free of charge. The beautiful newly remodeled library is set up for both comfort and convenience.

And as far as the youth in our community, they are pretty fantastic. Have you read about them just this past year? We’ve had one play in the Shrine Bowl, we’ve had them take state in running, excel in other sports including rodeo activities, excel in academics, excel in music and they are involved in a variety of clubs and organizations. We have the Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts and several 4-H Clubs that are active in community activities including gathering food for the food bank at the Methodist Church. Add these to the clubs, organizations and activities at school and you have some busy people. They need and deserve our praise for their positive actions as they move in to being our future leaders.

We should also be attentive and appreciative to the people working with our children. The influence and impact our teachers and school administrators have on our children is a big responsibility and they need encouragement to help them through those really bad days.

Big Brothers Big Sisters is another organization that many people in our area are involved in the fund-raising activities in hopes of helping children in need of guidance.

The town has several clubs that raise money for charitable organizations, volunteers at the hospital and supports other worthy causes.

Along with Uschi and Jerry Angle, John, Nick and Joon, the foreign exchange students, have taught me about other countries just by sharing details of their own lives.

Writing about Jim Bertoglio’s exhibit of photographs he shot during WWII and talking with other veterans as they walked through the door has given me a glimpse of the life changing sacrifices these men made for our Country. George Long reminded me of the ultimate sacrifice that so many men and women have made as they gave it all.

I am awed by the efforts of Linda Hartley and the Barber County Veterans Memorial Committee in honoring and recognizing these veterans.

No matter how many "Welcome Home" rides I watch, tears fill my eyes to see the American Legion Riders and Gabriel’s Thunder ride with their flags whipping in the wind. Veterans Day in Medicine Lodge is always a reminder of the courage and sacrifice of so many people that have kept this Country free.

We have Bev McCollum and Ellen Knowles Bisson providing interesting stories and facts from the past and John Nixon providing pictures. Many of these pictures show the Medicine Lodge of yesteryear and we can see how far we’ve come. We were the host town for the Chautauqua Festival and had the exciting experience of watching historical characters come alive. We have Maxine Miller who is in her 90s and still keeping us up on the happenings in Sun City.

We have couples like Carol and Bob Blackwell and Mary and Darrel Rhea in our community that have stuck together for years and not afraid to say "it takes more than love to make it through".

The Leisure Time Center recently celebrated 30 years of progress. The Center offers much needed services to our seniors and is an asset to our community.

We have the Greater Barber County Historical Action Association. After building the Heritage Center, they have filled it with community activities such as weddings, Rachel’s Challenge, meetings, tool shows and Bingo every Thursday evening. The Heritage Center is also the location where the Heritage Center Players provide hilarious entertainment under the directorship of Alan Goering.

Then there is Motorcycle Mary. This woman presents a financial plan that is doable and makes you believe that you can achieve financial success.

Mike and Lori Platt, former residents of Medicine Lodge, live in Turkey. They left home and family to share God’s love and message with the Turkish people.

I had personal doubts of having the tenacity that James Pounds had to finish a 6,000-piece puzzle.

I learned about how much time and effort went in to the Chain Horse Sale, the Demolition Derby and other activities at the Barber County Fair.

Don Gerstner was honored this past year when a dog he owned and trained in the 1960s was inducted into the Kansas Field Trial Hall of Fame.

I have had the opportunity to do stories on four artists. Carol Gerstner, Caroline Norton, Brian Willerton and Connie Watts, all with different techniques, all with superlative talent.

Madie Marshall and Uschi Angle are perfect examples of the resilience of children. Both of these individuals faced difficult and painful circumstances as children and their fighting spirits brought them through and they are both amazing people

The tornado in Greensburg affected us all as people opened up their hearts and pockets to the victims.

I could go on and on, but do you see what I’m saying? We are a lucky people! We don’t have a perfect community, that would take perfect people and we won’t even go there!

Also, I am so happy that it is not only me that forgets important things, like people’s names and events! Brian Poland called me this week and wanted to be publicly apologetic for forgetting to add Aggie Borden’s name when naming those who helped him complete the restoration of the old gas pump standing out on Highway 160 in front of Chieftain Supply. I could detect sincerity, so please forgive him Aggie!

Also, I know of this woman whose husband passed away a short time ago. She has to move in from the country and she has a male 10 year-old black lab. She needs to find a good country home for this gentle and friendly dog. If you live in the country and are interested in adding some unconditional love to your family, please call me here at the paper for more information. The number is 620-886-5654.

Also, have an excellent week!

Feeling a little inpatient with Peter’s lack of speed, a tiny arrogant smirk tickled the corner of Lucy’s mouth. She knew her name was written down in that Book of Life! She had lived her entire life according to the rules.

Peter finally reached her name and Lucy was shocked to see how many Lucy Browns were written down. After determining that he had the right Lucy, Peter opened the huge glowing gates and invited Lucy to enter into the heavenly city.

Lucy didn’t waste any time walking through those gates to check out what Heaven had to offer. She was not disappointed. The trees shimmered and glimmered with multiple colors of greens slightly moving in a slow, gentle breeze. There were flowers of every color crawling across the green carpet of grass and trailing around the trees. The sky was a rich royal illuminating blue, a pleasant brightness without the glare of the sun.

Walking down the smooth streets of gold was a slow process because of people calling out her name, giving her a hug, welcoming her to Heaven. The kids wrapped their chubby arms around her and she delighted in burying her nose in their neck as they threw back their heads in a fit of giggles. The cats rubbed against her ankles before running off to play with the frolicking dogs. The beautiful mansions lined the streets, each one surrounded with a Garden of Eden landscape. Hills flowed upward from the City and Lucy could see beautiful homes tucked into the sprawling woods.

Lucy could faintly hear birds singing and bubbling water as it flowed over the stones in a nearby creek. She was aware of a simple soothing music in surround sound, the dancing notes playing in the breeze.

Lucy found a comfortable looking bench under a tree and sank down into its softness. A pensive look settled on Lucy’s face as she took in the sights and sounds of Heaven.

About that time, along came the Lord. Lucy didn’t need an introduction to know who He was. After asking if it would be alright, He sat beside Lucy and asked why her face was set in such a troubled expression. He asked, "Lucy, don’t you like Heaven?"

Lucy was horrified to think that the Lord would think she didn’t like Heaven and quickly assured him that Heaven was perfect. He asked her what was the matter and she shared her thoughts. "Why did life on Earth have to be so hard? Why wasn’t there more Heaven on Earth instead of so much Hell?"

The Lord looked at Lucy with a questioning gaze and asked, "Why do you think that life on Earth was more Hell than Heaven?" Lucy was ready with her answer. "The people on Earth were not as friendly as they are here. Even the animals are playful and lovable here. The children are so sweet and huggable and so well behaved. People aren’t depressed, tired or in a hurry here. Why couldn’t it be more like this on Earth?"

The Lord slowly and thoughtfully answered Lucy. He reminded Lucy of her years of going to church and teaching children in Sunday School. "How many times did the people extend their hand in friendship to you and you disagreed with some of the things they did and distanced yourself from them? How many times did the children come to you for affection and you dismissed them because you were too busy or they didn’t act the way you wanted them to act? How many times did your animals jump on to your lap and you pushed them quickly to the floor?"

Lucy felt a little defensive with those questions. She said, "Lord, those people were not reading their Bibles and spending time in prayer like I did and you could tell it by the way they acted. The kids were dirty snot-nosed brats and no matter how hard I tried to make them behave, they got on my nerves. My animals caused me a lot of extra work with all of the hair they shed and the damage they did to my furniture. I worked constantly taking care of people and animals and doing what I had to do and nobody seemed to notice or appreciate my effort. If things on Earth would have been more like they are here in Heaven, I wouldn’t have been so depressed all of the time. Even if there had been the beauty that is here, at least that would have helped me through life."

The Lord noticed that Lucy was not comprehending what He was trying to tell her. He decided to become a little more direct.

"Lucy I put people around you that needed your love, and you only criticized and judged them. I put children in your path that needed your special attention and you had no patience. I scattered flowers over the land for your eyes to enjoy and sent rain to refresh the ground, the air and your spirit and you only complained about the inconvenience. I gave you fresh fruits, vegetables and nuts to give your body energy to meet the demands of your day and you chose to eat unhealthy foods. I provided music to soothe your mind and it was either too loud, too fast or too slow. I gave you animals to pet that loved you unconditionally. Taking time with them would have kept your blood pressure down. The purr I gave to cats is the same frequency that strengthens and heals bones. The animals that you pushed away would have contributed to a happy and healthy you. I provided a lake within walking distance from your house where you could have watched the wonders of the changing seasons and you never walked the paths and smelled the breeze rolling off the water. A walk around that lake would have made you feel better physically, mentally and spiritually. Life on Earth is not suppose to be all about the "Thou Shalt Nots", life is suppose to be about living and loving and enjoying all of the gifts I give to the people I love.

The Lord continued, "Along with all the pieces of Heaven I scattered over the Earth, I gave people the freedom of choice on how to live their lives. You had the choice to enjoy the beauty, the children, and the adults you came in contact with. You chose to see the bad in everything around you, instead of the good. You felt you were always alone in doing good, but I was always there to help you if you would have just asked."

Lucy understood. She had been so busy trying to do what was right that she only saw the wrong. Tears dripped off of her chin as the realization dawned on her. The Lord looked upon her understanding and found it good and smiled.

Also, have an excellent week!

I can feel all of them in a half an hour, several times a day. I would prefer to blame it on hormones not mental instability. Maybe the two go hand in hand, but I feel better sticking with hormones as my excuse.

I’m not real comfortable with some of the negative emotions, but one feeling that I really dislike is the feeling of insignificance.

Have you ever sat on a bench in a crowded mall and stared at people. You know the kind of staring I’m talking about. You don’t even pretend you’re not staring. You just sit, eat a snack and stare at the slow rolling human waves as they flow past. Tall, skinny, short, fat, dressed in every style imaginable, a constant stream of individuals all going about their daily lives.

Leaving the mall, you fight traffic from every direction. So many cars, so many people, you feel yourself diminishing in proportion to those around you. Only one grain of sand on a huge beach, a short gust of wind blowing through time, a quiet heart beat in a loud symphony of drums.

Experiencing these moments makes you question the importance of your existence. How can you make a difference when there are so many people in the world, going places, achieving great and mighty things?

A day on the road going to a social function with people I didn’t know very well was what started me thinking in this direction. It didn’t help that I ended up lost on a stretch of road that was almost impossible to become lost on. Frustration with my directionally-challenged mind and fighting the relentless wind on the western Kansas roads did little to settle the fatigued, turbulent thoughts scuffling in my brain.

Those feelings hung on for a couple of days. I went to work one morning and when I turned on my computer, I had received an e-mail from South Korea. Sang-Bok Kim, the father of foreign exchange student, Joon, had e-mailed me. He had read the story of Joon in our paper and had e-mailed a thanks. It was correspondence from a father who loved and missed his son. It made my day!

Later on that day as I was walking Lace around the lake, I met up with a man walking his dog. We had a short conversation and he was encouraging, open, honest and empathetic. I came away from that chat feeling so much better. He gave me the boost to get me through my evening.

These two guys started me thinking about what being significant is all about. They both made a significant difference in my day by taking a little time and putting out a little effort and encouragement.

I’ll probably always be a person where emotions gyrate around me like a hula hoop on 7 year-old hips. I’ll continue to have the ups and downs that everyone experiences in our roller coaster existence. I will never win the Nobel Peace Prize or have my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I’m pretty sure I won’t be breaking any world records or be cajoled to be on the Larry King or Oprah talk shows.

When I turn my focus back to Doris’ world, I realize that nobody can love my family better than I can. I am and will continue to be significant in their lives and I can’t think of too many things more important than that.

As with every other person, it is my choice on how significant I want to be. Being truly significant means reaching out to others with a smile, encouragement and assistance. If you can make a positive difference in someone’s day, you are being significant.

If you are feeling insignificant, look around and find somebody that could use a little help, oh wait, I guess that would include pretty much everybody!

Also, the Octoberfest Committee has made a significant difference in downtown Medicine Lodge. Isn’t it amazing how a few decorations, a lot of effort and some donated time can give downtown a festive fall feeling?

Also, have an excellent week!

When a breeze blows over the water, the reflection becomes twisted and distorted, sometimes to the point of being unrecognizable.

Many times when we reflect on our lives, the reflections are distorted by the winds of life blowing over them. Never is this so evident as when reminiscing with an old friend. Incidents that are so clear to you are nonexistent in their memory. Experiences from the past that are so realistic in their thoughts may be nothing but a faint recollection in your own mind.

Diane and I have found this to be true in many of our conversations. We became friends in third grade. As with most friends, there is something that bonds the two of you together like glue, something that will make you stick together through the good and bad.

Diane and I both had visibly dysfunctional families, lived on the wrong side of the tracks, not a lot of parental supervision and we both had outhouses. Maybe not the most positive foundation to build a friendship on, but we are still friends over 40 years later and we even have indoor plumbing.

Diane lives in Texas and although we don’t see each other much, we stay in contact by phone. We talk once or twice a month, discussing the present, stressing over the future and rehashing the past.

We both bring up childhood memories the other one just can’t quite reach out and grasp, maybe seems a little familiar, but no details.

Of course there is a lot of reminiscing where we both remember the specifics quite well. Many of these memories I won’t share with you for the simple fact I don’t want to incriminate myself and I would rather not share some of these escapades with my children. Once again, "ignorance is bliss."

One "never will forget memory" that Diane and I both remember quite vividly started one dark noisy night when I was twelve years old.

People had started acting strange and talking in whispers when Cousin Bud was in the hospital after being diagnosed with cancer. Several men stood outside our back-door talking with Dad two or three nights in a row while Mom stayed busy in the house looking meaner than a junkyard dog on a short chain.

I tried to eavesdrop and sneak around to find out what was going on, but I just couldn’t understand the secrecy.

One night I was jarred awake by voices, banging and thumps. Flashlight beams slashed through the darkness and disappeared into the beyond. Loud grunts came sporadically from beneath the house interspersed with strained bursts of words. I heard the squeaking of the cellar door as it fell into place before everything got real quiet, except the thumping of my heart.

There were very few things that would make me go into that cellar except a bad storm, an angry mother sending me to get potatoes and curiosity.

I told Diane the next day about the happenings of the night before and we began to make our plans. She spent the night, we waited until everybody had been asleep for a while, then we snuck out into the night.

We lifted the cellar door as quietly as the rusty hinges would allow, started down those rough stairs and switched on our flashlights when we reached the bottom. Everything was the same except for a large barrel pushed into the corner.

We pried the lid off the barrel and were shocked to find boxes of loose change and bags of rolled coins. We had hit the jackpot! We loaded our pockets down with rolls of quarters and up those steps we went, quietly shut that heavy old cellar door and snuck back in the house.

I can’t tell you how much we took that first time around, but to two poor adolescent girls, we had found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Hindsight makes me wonder what the tellers at the bank were thinking when we stepped up to the window and cashed in rolls of late 1800 and early 1900 quarters. They acted like it was an everyday happening.

We ate at restaurants, bought lots of candy and gum, frequented the bakery quite often and shopped our local Duckwalls. When the money ran out, motivated by greed, we gathered our courage and headed down those dark stairs into the creepy cellar.

We were young, living for the day. Evidently we knew what we were doing was wrong as we kept it between us. Evidently we weren’t kids that planned ahead, because our fountain of wealth dried up one night as quickly as it had sprung up.

I can’t remember how many trips down into the cellar we made or how much money we uuuhhhh pilfered, but I do remember how painful it was to have to get use to being poor again.

Diane and I spent a lot of time together as we picked our way through the pitfalls of childhood. Although we had our share of fights, I can’t remember now what they were about.

My mom didn’t want me hanging around with Diane because she thought Diane was sneaky. Diane’s mom didn’t want her hanging out with me for the same reason. It just seemed to make our friendship stronger.

I got better grades in school; she was much better in sports. She was tall and skinny with loooooooooong legs. I was not tall or skinny and had a rough time trying to keep up with her on the track or when there was rustling in the bushes on a dark night.

Gone are the days of running the streets and sneaking out. Most of our shenanigans are buried deep enough in our memories to rarely make it to the surface of our recollections.

We realized then that we needed each other and we still do. We know where we’ve been, we try to keep up with where we are and we are amazed that we have no idea where we want to go.

Our conversations have changed drastically from yesteryear. Now we discuss responsibilities, health problems, husbands, children and grandchildren.

Many years ago, we found comfort knowing we had a friend a short walk away around the corner and down a dusty dirt road. Now we are miles and miles of asphalt apart, but we know that when we need a friend we can let our fingers do the walking and we’re just a phone call away.

Also, when I started writing this column, I had a "pregnant one". Mandy and Joey now have a beautiful little girl almost seven months old. Every time I see Marie is a pleasurably painful experience as I feel myself being slowly wrapped around her pudgy little finger. Now we have another "pregnant one" that will be producing in approximately six weeks. Andrea and Ryan will be having Baby Boy Hembree in the middle of November. I can only hope and pray that when their son is in his twenties and they are reflecting on his life, they will feel as much love and pride as we feel for our children.

Also, have an excellent week!

I am reminded nearly every day of the events and effects of having had a daughter in the military. Although not all negative, they were life changing.

Julia joined the Army Reserves in her last year of high school and began her weekend drills. Although originally planning this adventure with a friend, plans changed and she was on her own. She faced her fears, stretched her limitations and crammed her Army activities into her busy senior year.

The day came shortly after high school graduation for her to leave for boot camp. I walked the lake, miserable and crying, feeling as if a part of me had been ripped away and tossed into the unknown.

I attended her graduation at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri and was amazed at the pride I felt for that young woman in uniform. She stood so confident and straight in formation, but our eyes met and I realized no matter what, she was still my baby.

She finished her basic and came back home and started college. Then came September 11, 2001 and her life changed.

She got the call the night before starting another semester at Wichita State University in January of 2002. She called me crying at 3:00 a.m. to tell me she had to be in formation in Hays by 10:00 a.m. After a short period where both of us had hysterics, she headed home. We packed bags, did laundry and broke the speed limit, but she was where she was suppose to be at the time she was suppose to be there.

I said good-bye and I thought my heart was going to break. It was hard to see through the sleet falling outside and my tears falling inside. Feeling like it couldn’t get any worse, I finished off a Dr. Pepper and tossed the bottle over on to the passenger floorboard. There lay Julia’s purse containing her money, identification and other papers needed for her deployment.

I finished my drive to Medicine Lodge in a fresh fit of tears. I didn’t think I could even make it back to Hays in a car because of the icy roads. Ronda felt sorry for me in all of my emotional ramblings and offered to drive me back to Hays that night in her Suburban.

I delivered Julia’s purse to her, had to say good-bye again and you can ask Ronda, I spent the night crying.

Julia ended up in Qatar and thanks to e-mail and occasional calls, we made it through.

It was so fantastic to see her again when she arrived back in the States.

She decided she would return to Wichita to college when the new semester began. Four months later, the night before her semester was to begin, she got a call again.

This time she went to Iraq. Things were ugly, soldiers were dying, and there was nothing I could do but pray.

She was able to come home after six months for a couple of weeks and talk about bittersweet. I loved seeing her, but spent the whole two weeks dreading the trip back to the airport for her return to Iraq.

She came home with her own set of memories and events that will affect her for the rest of her life, but she came home.

Every time I hear that another soldier has been killed, I become nauseated thinking of what a mother, a father, a family is going through. Every time I hear of another unit deploying, I think about the agony of separation that so many people are experiencing.

Every time I see a soldier’s obituary, I’m engulfed by sadness that the soldier was not able to live out their natural life.

Every soldier that does come home will have to deal with the mental, physical and emotional results that serving their country will leave them with.

After experiencing the raw feelings of having a deployed child, my thoughts are totally different as I listen to veteran’s stories and I always wonder how a person can endure so much.

The time Julia spent out of the United States was some of the hardest months our family has experienced. Holidays without her were difficult and lacking in the usual exuberance.

Although sleep was a welcomed break from thinking and worrying, I always dreaded "the dream". In my dream I would be walking home from work and when I turned the corner, there was a military vehicle in front of my house and there were uniformed officers standing at my door.

During these stressful months, Julia’s Battle Buddy’s mother, Melanie and I developed a tight friendship. Spending hours on the phone, we would hash and rehash news until it didn’t make much sense at all. We talked for hours, expressing fears, ranting and raving, sometimes crying. After our children became more than battle buddies, we began planning their lives and the number of children they should have. We are still working with them in that area.

Among some of our more brilliant ideas, we made photo albums of our children’s baby pictures. Some were funny, some a little revealing, but of course all were adorable. She sent her photo album to Julia and I sent mine to Seth. Julia was not real appreciative of having her baby pictures shared with her fellow soldiers. She has always been a little touchy about her size as an infant.

Julia’s military absences have made our family closer, more affectionate and more aware of how important family is.

Julia’s military experience has made her a stronger woman who has been through extremely difficult circumstances. She has forged friendships with people she served with that will last a lifetime. Her Army Battle Buddy has become her forever battle buddy and a perfect match for her in every way. She loved being a soldier, but decided not to mix the military with marriage. Selfishly, that decision made me happy.

When a soldier is serving our Country, it affects each member of their family. My granddaughter, Marissa, is 14 years old and her brother, Eric, is a Marine stationed overseas. She wrote the following poem as an outlet in dealing with her brother’s deployment.

I am Strong and Brave

by Marissa Thompson

I am strong and brave

I wonder how much pain I can take

I hear twenty-one guns

I see the fight

I want to fight along side my brother

I am strong and brave

I pretend I am a Marine

I feel as though I am there

I touch his dog tags

I worry he won’t come back

I cry because he is gone

I am strong and brave

I understand he loves his family

I say he shouldn’t go

I dream he comes home

I try to keep strong

I hope he comes back alright

I am strong and brave.

Also, "Keep ‘em Flying: Everyday Life in a WWII Fighter Squadron" an exhibit of pictures taken by Jim Bertoglio when stationed in Foggia, Italy, is on display at The Exploration Place in Wichita. The exhibit will be on display there through December. It will then move on to the next scheduled location. This exhibit gives the viewer a visual account of the daily operations of the famed "Hat in the Ring" squadron. This exhibit is a visual recording of history and a reminder to us of what others before us have sacrificed for our freedom.

Also, last Friday was POW/MIA Day in the United States. The official statistics state that 1,787 Americans are still unaccounted for from the Vietnam War, more than 8,100 are missing from the Korean War, more than 78,000 from World War II, 126 from the Cold War, and one soldier is classified as Missing-Captured from the Gulf War. There have been so many lives lost, so much pain, loneliness and so much sacrifice that has gone in to keeping our nation free.

Also, have an excellent week!

I’ve thought a lot about how that would be and the more I think about it, the worse it gets. It would be like being born again when you are an adult with no past experiences to base your living on.

Your past experiences may not make you 100% of what you are today, but your history affects everything you think, feel, do and say.

Thinking about this subject, I started thinking about some of my memories of the past that I know affect the way I am today.

I had heard about several residents of Greensburg who had cellars, but chose not to go to the cellars due to their condition. I understand why one would make that choice.

To reach our cellar when I was a child, we had to go outside and around the house. We always waited until the weather was really bad before going to the cellar. My adrenaline always spiked pretty high during these trips to the dreaded storm cellar from having to fight my way through pelting rain and roaring winds followed by the all-family tug of war with nature to get the cellar door open. Most of the time, I was much more willing to ride out the temper tantrum Mother Nature was having by crawling under my bed than to descend down those uneven cement covered rock stairs.

There were 11 steps to reach the bottom of that musty hole. I would start counting from the top, as there was no electricity to light the way. I would try to walk down the steps without touching either side, but if needed for balance, I would use only one finger against the wall. There were cobwebs hanging from the low ceiling, corners and off the potato bin.

One side of the cellar consisted of a raised wooden platform where the potatoes were stored after digging them out of the garden. The potatoes were spread out and covered with a layer of lime. The suffocating vapor from the lime mingled with the damp stale air that seemed to intensify the smell of the rodents you could hear digging themselves deeper into the boxes stored in the corner. Shelves of canned vegetables lined another wall, many covered with more than one year of dust. I will always remember that smell and how it permeated my entire body for days after spending time in our safe place.

I can remember spending summers following my brother and his friends through the trees and the creeks whether they liked it or not. I bet my brother hated me. If they did anything wrong, they always blamed it on me, so it gave them a reason to tolerate me.

The woods and river had a different smell each season. Spring brought the new shoots and leaves springing from the moist earth warmed by a gentle sun. Summer enveloped your senses with the spicy sage smell of drying grasses and fragrant evergreens baked by a relentlessly ruthless sun. Fall brought the best smells of all. Cool, moist, foggy, weather that soaked the fallen leaves and produced a crisp breathable air cleansed from the summer dust. Winter smelled of fireplaces mingled with the smells of home cooking as they drifted from the residential sections. Then the cycle would start all over again.

The Neosho River ran through our town and we had an "old dam". The water rushed over the ledge during the rainy seasons, and settled in to a slow trickle by mid summer. People in hip boots fished at the base of this wall and children played in the streams fed by the basin. The woods on both sides were thick and made wonderful playgrounds for "Hide and Go Seek", "Cowboy and Indians" and a variety of tags. I loved running these woods, cooling off in the water before rushing back into the woods for yet another game. One day I was lying in the sun on a large fallen tree when a man with a blanket under his arm came out of the woods and asked me if I wanted to make a quarter. I was young, but I got "that feeling" and I ran with it, literally. I could have outrun a jack rabbit that day as I raced the couple miles to my house.

I loved going to the fair. I never rode the rides much, didn’t have the money to play the games, but the smells and sounds were free. The smells of cooking hamburgers, swirling through pink mists of cotton candy and diluting the cigarette smoke into a festive haze that every moth in the county would come to enjoy. The air was filled with laughter and squeals of delight in the background as the carnival barkers cajoled those within range to try their game. Being a spectator of the event seemed even more exciting than being a participant.

I was fifteen when my friend Diane and my brother and I drove the five miles out to the John Redmond Dam to watch the airplanes. It was a Sunday afternoon and to celebrate the opening of a small airport, they were giving plane rides. We had no plans on taking a ride, we just wanted to watch the planes take off and land.

The area was empty except for one plane and the pilot and he generously offered to let us fly the round trip to Emporia to gas up for the same price as a short plane ride. What a deal! My brother came up with enough money to cover us and we were off and going. It was great until we came close to Emporia and things started smelling a little funny. The pilot started acting a little funny and then things got very unfunny. The plane started filling up with smoke and fumes and the pilot started giving us instructions on what to do when we hit the ground.

I remember looking out the window as we descended on a golf course on a man with a golf bag over his shoulder. The bag was beating against him as he was running, but he never dropped that bag. He had on plaid shorts.

My dad was in the last stages of cancer at the time and it was the first time the thought had ever crossed my mind that I could beat him to the grave.

All of these are memories that had an impact on my life. I may go years without thinking much about them, but a smell, a song or an event will stir them and make them seem nearly as real as when they happened.

Being in Greensburg the night of the tornado and again several days later reminded me of the smells of my childhood cellar and made me agitated and nauseated.

When I walk the lake, I am reminded of the smells and freedom of my youth and how much I enjoyed the freedom of being in the woods. When running into a cobweb, I can’t help but do my cobweb dance. Definitely not something you share with others and still keep your dignity. The man with the blanket probably contributes to my habit of carrying a cell phone and pepper spray.

I still enjoy being a spectator at large gatherings of people, still like the smells and enjoy hearing the laughter.

I have never been up in another plane, enough said.

We all have memories that are a part of who we are today. If we had no memory of our memories, we wouldn’t know who we are. We would be a stranger to ourselves.

Also, do you think one of the secrets of a good life means making more good memories than bad memories? I do know that many good memories have a lot of effort involved in them!

Also, have you met the foreign exchange students? You might just want to!

Also, have an excellent week!

That government has not perished from the earth, but I doubt Mr. Lincoln would be real pleased with some of the directions the government has taken in the past 144 years since that speech.

The government has posed taxes on the people for just about anything and everything. Of course you do have the choice of not paying these taxes with the results being a stay in a house funded by other people’s taxes. The security is great but some of the other amenities may not be real comfortable.

This same government, knowing the American people are working long hours to pay those taxes, is concerned there is way too much time in between National Holidays such as Labor Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Knowing that people need relaxation, enjoyment and celebration, they have generously provided us with other reasons to celebrate that many of us overlook.

As long as we have to pay our taxes, we just as well get into the American spirit and celebrate some of these lesser-known activities.

To get you in the mood for some serious September celebrating, I would like to share with you some reasons to celebrate.

Being concerned for the safety of Americans, the government has declared September as National Preparedness Month. All of us should try to shake the "it won’t happen to me" attitude and make plans with every member of the family in what to do should a disaster occur. Although we may have no control over disasters, a little preparation and knowledge would help cut down on the chaos surrounding a disaster and may bring a little peace of mind.

No matter whether a toddler or an octogenarian, we are aging. September is Healthy Aging Month. Maybe this would be a good time to pick up a good habit to make the aging process a little more graceful. A consistent form of exercise, daily vitamins, a plan to add fruits and veggies to your diet, or if nothing else, maybe a new wrinkle cream.

So as to not leave you totally high and dry without ideas to go on, the government has dedicated September to other health issues.

For example, it is also Eye Health & Safety Month and Sports and Home Eye Safety Month. How long has it been since you’ve seen your eye care professional? If that doesn’t seem to be a problem you need to address, then how long has it been since you’ve had your cholesterol checked? Yes, it is Cholesterol Education Month. A high cholesterol reading can be a symptom of a much serious illness sooooooo see, the government cares.

One cannot be healthy without putting the right things into your body and the government knows this. To encourage the people of America to eat right, September is Apple Month, Rice Month, Ethnic Foods Month, Chicken Month, Mushroom Month, Organic Harvest Month, Honey Month and just to cover all bases, Food Education Safety Month.

What better time to try out some new foods with your family. Apples have always been considered an excellent snack and more and more data has been collected that shows that although "an apple a day keeps the doctor away", two apples may actually help you to remember your doctor’s name and other things that seem to pass through the brain without stopping.

Rice, especially brown rice, is considered a healthy addition to your diet and a variety of meals can be prepared using it as the base. Add some chicken, make it an ethnic meal. Many countries have rice for nearly every meal with far less obesity, heart problems and cancer than we have in America.

Food safety is definitely something to consider when adding mushrooms to your diet. It is definitely better to stick to those coming from a can or the vegetable section than to those found in the great outdoors. It is also safer to enjoy honey from a jar then persuading bees to share their personal stash.

To make all of these foods easier on the budget, September is Coupon Month. When you are watching television letting a yummy new organic rice and chicken recipe in a mushroom laden honey sauce settle, clip some coupons to make that trip to the store not quite as expensive. If you run across a coupon for a golden toilet seat or a Persian rug, please pass these on to the Pentagon in hopes of lowering taxes that go to furnishing our government buildings.

Health and nutrition are not the only areas the government is concerned that we pay attention to and celebrate. The government cares for our youth. September is Baby Safety Month, Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, Children’s Good Manners Month, Little League Month, Reye’s Syndrome Awareness Month, School Success Month and Sickle Cell Month.

Maybe since school is just beginning, establishing routines for homework, television watching, and other activities in September would encourage success in school in the upcoming school year.

What about adults? The government loves us also and cares that we become all that we can be. September is Marriage Health Month, Women of Achievement Month, Self Awareness Month and Self Improvement Month.

This would be the perfect time to pay attention to your marriage, work on your dreams or at least figure out who you are.

The government as a whole encourages people to stay off drugs and alcohol by declaring September National Alcohol & Drug Abuse Recovery Month. I’ll refrain from listing a few members of our government that may need to spend this month doing some marriage, self awareness and improvement and recovery in their own very public lives.

Evidently the government does want people to have a little fashion sense. September is Fall Hat Month. Use it as an excuse to wear that funky hat that also saves your face from some of those damaging hot September sun rays.

The government is also interested in our celebration of music. September is Jazz Month and Southern Gospel Music Month. If neither has been your choice of tunes to listen to, try some out in the month of September, just to celebrate.

To satisfy the "call of the wild", September is also Tiger Month.

The government does not want a bunch of unread, illiterate citizens, so September is Library Card Sign-Up Month. If you have not checked out all of the changes that have occurred over the past few months at the Lincoln Library, now is the time. Take the family, check out what the library has to offer and enjoy the best sellers for free.

Now I’m sure you are all in a festive party mood and are just having a rough time deciding on where to begin. It doesn’t matter, just start some place and do it now before September slips away, because October will bring all sorts of new things the government has provided for us to celebrate.

Did I mention that September is also Be Kind to Editors & Writers Month? I’ll have to bring that one to the attention of those in this office. I pay my taxes, just as well get some kindness out of it!!

Also, remember to celebrate kindness everyday. When I stop being busy and count my blessings, I am so thankful for the many acts of kindness my children show to me and each other. Their calls, faxes and being there for each other and us for the good and bad things in life never ceases to amaze me. After playing in the park with our grandchildren the other day, we came home to empty sinks and clean dishes. Now that is kindness! Thank you Jami, I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise!

Also, have an excellent week celebrating!

I hate to miss my daily walk at the lake with my dog, but there just doesn’t seem much will take care of the stress and encourage a good night’s sleep as well as a long luxurious bath.

After talking with a friend about how great a bath can be, I decided that it was important enough to dedicate a column to. I know that it sounds like one of those woman things, but a good long bath will not only cleanse the body, but will remove several layers of build-up from the spirit and soul. My idea of stress relief follows:

Ode to Indoor Plumbing

The Bath

To really enjoy baths, there are a few rules

The first one being is to have the right tools

Although it’s important to have bubbles galore

The perfect bath includes so much more

The shampoo needs to have a really good smell

The 30-minute hair condition needs to work exceptionally well

Then the tools get technical when it comes to your skin

You have to figure out what kind of outer layer you’re in

Are you oily and shiny and need products to dry

Or are you dry and flaky and need moisturizers to try

Or do you have both oily and dry going on

There are products for this when you shop Avon

Clean out those pores with a cleansing scrub

Slather on a mask and lay back in your tub

Let your mind drift in the flickering candlelight

Nothing is wrong, deep breaths, everything’s right

After your blood pressure and stress level is down just a bit

Then it’s time to grab that exfoliating mitt

Dribble some bath oil on the rough places to soothe

Followed by grainy cleanser to make your entire body smooth

Whether you choose Elizabeth Arden or Oil of Olay

Each one is different and it’s so fun to play

The smells and the textures makes bath time a pleasure

Sephora and Bare Escentuals to add to your treasure

Time to use the razor you shopped for with care

Surely there’s an easier way to get rid of that hair

There is soft music playing so it’s not quite so quiet

Moments you think about starting a diet

After so much chaos, it’s good to be alone

No questions, no answers, no telephone

Unless you’re going to be on the phone with a friend

These are baths that take a long time to end

Baths must end or you’ll be wrinkled like a prune

Knowing that you’ll be taking another one soon

Perfect for the times you’re feeling a little bit blah

Having your own at-home personal spa

A shower to rinse off the conditioners and mask

That in itself is a wonderful task

Bath time is over, such sweet sorrow

Can’t wait to indulge in another one tomorrow.

Also, along with kindness comes appreciation. We owe our appreciation to those who worked long hours in preparing for the "Rachel’s Challenge" program. Included in this appreciation is the South Central Community Foundation for the grant which made it possible for our community to experience "Rachel’s Challenge". Not to be forgotten is Rachel’s family who chose to share Rachel and her ethics with the world and making her vision a reality.

Also, have an excellent week!

Although we had no running water in the house, we were fortunate enough to only have a short distance to carry it. As a very young child, we had a pump which made it pretty inconvenient for a small child to get a drink. Necessity built muscles and made even a child mindful that you always collected extra water for the next person using the pump.

Each time you wanted water, you had to pour some water in to the pump to prime it. Then the handle had to be worked up and down smoothly and quickly and you would be rewarded for your efforts with a stream of cool water.

The well ran dry and we ended up with city water being piped to the same location with a hydrant replacing the pump.

Water had to be carried for drinking water, laundry, dishes, cooking and bathing. When you have to carry buckets of water to provide for the needs of a household, it becomes a natural conservation method.

We had a bucket in the house with a dipper. Everybody used the dipper. You would have thought everyone would have constantly been sick, but I think it just built up our immunity to germs.

There was also a basin of water sitting by the bucket. We all washed our hands in this water. Nope, it wasn’t changed after every washing. I wouldn’t even guess how many hands were washed in that basin before the water was changed. It probably had something to do with not being able to see the bottom of the basin.

A bucket of water for the dishes was put on the stove to heat. Two pans were used, one for washing and one for rinsing, no matter how many dishes needed to be washed. When you had finished washing the dishes, you carried the water to the back door, kicked the screen door open with your foot and tossed that water as far as you could. It was imperative that you tossed it passed the porch especially in the winter time. It only took one time of stepping out the back door and falling on your backside because of frozen dish water to realize the reasoning behind that rule.

Wash day was not an easy day. We washed on our back porch. We had the rinse tub that had to be filled with water. It probably held at least twice as much water as a regular automatic washer holds. We did this after the water had been hauled in and poured in to big pots and heated on a stove on our porch for the wash tub.

This stove was a gas stove and probably was one of the first ever made by the looks of it. You turned the ivory handle and stood back as far as you could while sticking a match to the burner. After singeing eyelashes, bangs and arm hair, I had a healthy respect for that iron menace.

After filling the wash tube with the hot water, the fun began. The clothes were washed whites first, colors and then darks all in the same water.

There were accessories that helped us through wash day. One was the scrub board. Ours had a wooden frame with an opaque rough glass surface that we could scrub those grass stains out with. Another accessory was the clothes stick. Worn smooth from years of laundry days, this stick was used to push the clothes into the hot water and rearrange them once there.

At least the washer was electric and agitated the clothes and for that I was thankful. We had many wash days when the washer was broke and we did the agitation by hand using the clothes stick. This was a total body workout.

After the wash tub had agitated the clothes for a while, the wringer was turned towards the rinse tub and each article of clothing was run through the wringer into the rinse tub. The clothes stick came in handy when you were fishing the clothes out of the hot water. Most of the time this part wasn’t real bad unless you got your hair caught or some of the heavier clothes tangled up in the wringer. Things could get a little tense until you stopped the ringer and released the tension.

Once the clothes were swished around in the rinse water a bit, they were run through the ringer again into a basket and taken out and hung on the line. This was not a bad job in good weather, but the job lost some joy when the clothes froze as quickly as they were placed on the line and would slap you upside the face.

Then there was bathtime. Over the years when I hear people joke about taking a Saturday night bath whether they needed it or not, I’ve had a hard time in seeing the humor in it. Saturday night baths were real life for me for most of my childhood.

The routine didn’t vary much from summer to winter. The tin bathtub was always taken into the dining room. I have no idea why unless that is where the stove was and much warmer in the winter. The water was heated, poured in and Saturday night bath time began. The unspoken rule was that parents went first and then the kids one by one from the oldest to the youngest. Yep, you guessed it, all in the same water. I so hated being the baby of the family.

Sooooooooo, of course there was not a bathroom. I’ll try to be tactful about this.

The outhouse was the daytime destination for those in need. For a time our outhouse was just down a short path not far from the house. It was also fairly close to the road so the city made Dad move the outhouse further to the back of our property and a lot further from the house.

Our outhouse was a two-seater. One for adults, the other one smaller to accommodate children. The interior was dark, damp and there were no air fresheners present. The light during the day was provided by the sunshine casting dusty beams of light through the cracks. The lighting at night was by candle or flashlight. Reading material was not necessary as taking care of business and getting out as quickly as possible was top priority. If extra time in the little building was necessary, there were things to do.

There were weird shaped mushrooms in the corner to admire. There were computer unrelated web designs in every corner and each one different. Insects marched across the walls to a background of buzzing flies. There was a lot of activity going on in that little house.

At night, the White Owl was used. Maybe that was the brand name, but that was what we called our chamber pot. I learned two things from the chamber pot. I learned to limit my liquids in the evening and I learned that when you had the distasteful task of emptying that pot, you did so without sloshing.

As I got older, I learned by watching the other kids that I was just not as clean as they seemed to be. I found ways to step up my personal hygiene including washing my hair under the hydrant in the morning and walking to school with frozen hair.

I didn’t know anything different, so it wasn’t that bad. I do now and it would be difficult to ever return to that way of living. I love baths. There are times my mind returns to yesteryear when rinsing dishes under running water. I can’t even imagine finding time to do laundry in that antiquated way.

I definitely do not miss that outhouse. Even though we moved to a different house on the same block with indoor plumbing when I was 12, the outhouse stayed.

When I began dating Ray, I couldn’t understand why he found the outhouse so interesting, actually I still don’t understand.

I do understand how much more difficult life is without indoor plumbing and am grateful for the luxuries indoor plumbing allows.

Next time you get a little annoyed by somebody flushing the toilet in the middle of the night, think how much more annoying the sound would be if it was the chamber pot being kicked over!

Yeah, indoor plumbing is a good thing!

Also, water seems to be a theme in this issue of the paper. Water is important. Without water our vegetation would die, our crops would die, we would die. Water should not be taken for granted and those planning ahead should be appreciated.

Also, have an excellent week!!!

The lyrics and music of "Games People Play" were written and performed by Joe South and were included on his debut album in 1968.

A short time later, the song could be found in music books. As a young teenager, my friend Diane and I would sit at the piano and I would play it over and over and we would sing it over and over. I think we were pretty sure we were next in line to be discovered! In actuality, I can’t understand how Mom handled it without losing her patience and running us out of the house, because we were horrible and way off Pitch.

Now I can see how much truth is in that song, although at the time, I didn’t have a Clue. They were just words of a popular song played on the radio.

There are good games and bad games. As our children get to the age of being able to stand alone, we teach them the good game of Ring Around the Rosie. This game is always good for a laugh for everyone involved as the toddler’s balance is not yet fully developed.

Shortly after these toddlers become part of a classroom setting, they learn about the popularity game. This is a bad game. The unpopular kids seem to have a permanently attached Cootie that keeps them from ever becoming a popular kid. Teachers can testify of the wounded Hearts caused by a clique War.

As individuals Hopscotch through the grades, many students stay within their groups. After reaching high school, if these students have not set some goals instead of the Trivial Pursuit of entertainment, the games really begin.

Not only is the popularity game still going strong, this is where real Trouble begins. Males notice females and females notice males and the hormones create a Twister of emotions.

Parents feel like they are losing their Marbles through this stage where their teens are playing Cat and Mouse with the opposite sex.

As the high school years end and college, working and serious relationships begin, life is not just a Wheel of Fortune. Life is a series of choices and living with the consequences of those choices. If you make good choices, life can be a Hi Ho! Cherry-O experience. If you make bad choices, your life becomes one bad thing after another, just like falling Dominoes.

Unfortunately, relationships can become one of the largest game boards where a multiple of games are played out simultaneously. The rules become blurred, the players become confused at the Speed the guidelines change and frustration, irritation and aggravation set in. The relationship becomes a dance of Charades interspersed with an occasional Sorry. Those in relationships begin to feel being an Old Maid and doing life Solitaire would be the smartest way to live. Taboo games played in many couple’s lives include excessive possessiveness, control, jealousy, selfishness and criticism. These games have the distinction of all players being losers, nobody wins.

Neither one will ever give in

Also in adulthood, the game of "keeping up with the Jones" seems to be another endeavor we chose to inflict on ourselves.

Millions play the Red Light/Green Light frenzy of Rush Hour traffic so as to buy more things they have to work longer hours to pay for so they never have time to enjoy them. In the struggle to climb the Chutes and Ladders of success, we may find ourselves examining our Scruples, our morals and our chosen way of life. It is each individual’s choice on whether they Spit on Your Neighbor or choose the sweet way of life in Candy Land. Players in the game of success should be aware of the Hungry Hungry Hippos that will eat away at your moral fiber and eventually devour your conscience, all in the name of getting ahead.

The workplace is another area of competitions and showdowns. Subtle undercurrents of power and control will undermine the stability a business is built on and cause a Pool of discontent. There becomes a constant Tug-a-War between the employees and management as they pass around accusations, implications and allegations as children in a game of Tag.

My mind cannot comprehend the games played by our government and court systems throughout America. I get rid of the thoughts as quickly as a Hot Potato as they are a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing and I don’t understand their games.

If you Connect Four of the following thoughts and include them in every game you play, you will win Hands Down.

1. Shoot straight. Don’t play Hide-and-Go-Seek.

2. Always remember the Golden Rule. Don’t sink somebody’s Battleship if you don’t want your own Battleship sunk.

3. Play Leap Frog over the insignificant details that won’t make a bit of difference in 24 hours.

4. Life is way too short to be busy all of the time. Enjoy your family and friends and have as much fun as a Barrel of Monkeys.

Life is an Operation. We can choose Truth or Dare to deal with the dire consequences of dishonesty.

We are the ones studying the Chess board of our lives and mapping out the next move and what we are willing to sacrifice to get there.

Don’t Follow the Leader, be the leader. Don’t leave your decisions to Rock, Scissors, Paper. Keep the past and future in mind when making present decisions.

It doesn’t matter what Simon Says. It’s your game.

Also, I was really impressed when I read the testimonials from teachers and principals concerning the effect Rachel’s Challenge had on the students in their schools and the community. Rachel lost her life, but due to the way her family decided to play out the game, Rachel’s codes and ethics have sparked a chain reaction in many communities across the Nation.

Also, have an excellent week!

I have had comments from several different people concerning my tendency towards the "ignorance is bliss", glass half- full, Pollyanna, rose-colored glasses slant on my writing.

I do seem to have the propensity to naturally lean in this direction because I’m uncomfortable when tilting in the other direction. I hate hurting feelings to a fault, would rather adjust than fight over many situations and I deal with uncomfortable conditions by visiting the state of denial. I only visit the state, I don’t live there all of the time.

I am fully aware that cute little babies make huge messes in their diapers, cause sleep deprivation, go through the "terrible two" stage for years only to settle in to a long teenage stage that depletes funds, causes more sleep deprivation and rivers of tears.

I experience every day the disadvantages of owning animals. I scoop poo, walk the lake when I don’t want to and cater to their needs when I’m half asleep.

I know that without proper and consistent maintenance, houses, cars and relationships fall apart. There are times all three can deteriorate so badly they can not be fixed.

I have had my share of sleepless nights because of being too hot, too cold, worried over some family dysfunction, hungry or totally overwhelmed.

I understand the feelings and consequences of betraying and being betrayed. I know how badly I feel when my actions hurt others. I would rather be disappointed than disappoint, as it doesn’t feel as bad. In hindsight, there were many times I have been too sensitive and other times not sensitive enough.

I have lost most everything in a fire, twice. As hard as you try to be thankful for lives spared, material possessions are missed.

There are people living in storm-ravaged areas that have abused and misused not only the assistance of the government, but also the generosity of people.

There is so much pain and hurt in this world. Turn on the TV, pick up the big city newspaper, have a talk with your friends. There is unimaginable tragedy everywhere.

I know what it is like to have good days and bad days. I know what it’s like to have bad things happen and have good things happen. I do know when the bad starts outweighing the good, it is easy to lose hope and become depressed. Drastic action needs to be taken when you have feelings of envy when looking at the obit boxes downtown.

Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people.

Fear of the future, the unknown, can immobilize you and keep you from taking steps to make life better.

Advice is a lot easier to give than to take or put into practice.

Having a dream die leaves a hollow cavity that nothing seems to fill.

Love without actions and effort is only a four-letter word.

There are givers and there are takers. My opinion is that most takers never feel real bad about taking as long as it makes their life easier. Most givers eventually get tired of giving and grow a little bitter and resentful.

I realize that keeping a viable spiritual life is a struggle. God doesn’t deal in deadlines so your spiritual life gets pushed down the priority list by all of the other have-to-do-everyday things.

I’ve seen people I love in so much pain and couldn’t and can’t do anything about it.

I believe there is no reason to waste time trying to communicate with a person that will not talk back, won’t stop talking long enough to listen or is under the influence of drugs or alcohol.

There are at least two sides to every story, each being partially factual.

There will always be personality conflicts and a battle between the sexes.

It makes me feel ill to think there are children being emotionally and physically abused everyday even in Medicine Lodge. It makes me angry there so many of our elderly, after living a full, giving life, are being neglected and mistreated.

I become furious when hearing about a person on parole committing a heinous crime or any other senseless crime committed against the innocent.

I believe there are a few great politicians. I recognize there are many good politicians as long as you use good loosely. Most of the actions of many of the politicians are greedy, dishonest and selfish. They appear to be conscienceless, despicable scumbags that put absolutely no value on the lives of the "little" people.

If you have many years behind you, you’ll have your own list of disappointments, regrets, tragic moments, pet peeves and issues that make you extremely angry. Dwelling on these feelings and events will only drive you coo coo, so why do it? If you concentrate on looking for the bad in people, places and things, you will find the bad. This also works in reverse, if you’re looking for the good................

Excuse me a minute while I exchange these smoky gray glasses for my pretty pink glasses. Yes, that’s much better.

Also, thanks to Steve Bryan for that explosive shot of adrenaline. Actually Steve, I forgave you and stopped trying to think of a way to get even after you shared your philosophy with me. "A person can make a choice between getting better or getting bitter."

Also, I have double the pleasure and double the fun because I have double Jans in my life. I’m doubly thankful for having the privilege to know both of you.

Also, have an excellent week!

I have no idea who wrote this, I just know I really, really like it. I went online to try to find the author, all I found is the quote using basically the same words, rearranged in several different ways.

I think most everybody has or had one of those people in their lives that made a difference in a big way. That individual doesn’t have to have wings hanging out of the sleeves of their shirt or walk on water. They just have to care enough to supply something missing in someone’s life.

I had a person in my life until I was 12 years old who was the world to me. I would have never admitted this when my mother was alive as she hated him. Mom wasn’t one to hate many people and when she didn’t like somebody very much, she would just get real quiet and moody. We knew without her having to say a word. Mom disliked this guy so much she couldn’t keep quiet about him. One of my first memories was of Mom ranting and raving about him. I rebelled and I defied, but when it came to him, even at a young age I knew to hide how I really felt or Mom would have somehow put an end to it all.

His name was Edward Everett Hale. His father and my father’s father were brothers. Most everyone in town called him Bud; I called him Cousin Bud.

Cousin Bud owned a gas station with a tire store in back. He also had a store next door to the station that had a little bit of everything in it from tools to dishes.

He was only four years younger than my dad, but oh so different. My mom hated him because he drank, smoked and ran around with women who had uuuummmmmmmm questionable reputations. He had been married when he was much younger so being a divorced man didn’t set real well with her either. I think maybe she could have overlooked or at least had hidden her dislike a little better if he had not had naked women on the hub cabs of his black El Camino. I could tell when Cousin Bud was coming in the driveway because that was the only time Mom would start snarling and mumbling and talking about naked women.

He was the most exciting person I knew. Being a nosy, I mean curious child, I had eavesdropped enough to know that Cousin Bud did not have a lily-white past. He had been quite active in the prohibition days and had made a fortune running moonshine. I guess he had done some other rather naughty things and had got in trouble with the law. Rather than to become law abiding, he had joined up with some other gentlemen that made their own laws and took care of their own problems. Even though he had settled down into a somewhat ordinary life, Mom would forbid Dad to go around Cousin Bud when his friends, always dressed in black, would come to town.

I didn’t care about any of that stuff. When I was four and five years old, I would pick flowers, wild asparagus or strawberries and take to him. He paid me by teaching me how good grape pop and peanuts were together. No matter who was around, he would always talk to me. He made me feel like I was somebody special.

Dad always felt that giving gifts was an unnecessary expense. We never had birthday gifts and Christmas was oranges, peanuts in the shell and pecans. One Christmas really stands out in my memory. It was getting close to bedtime on a Christmas Eve when there was a knock on the back door. Dad went to answer the door and returned with some cardboard boxes. After making a couple trips, Dad started tearing the boxes open with his pocketknife. The first one held candy, long wavy strips of Christmas candy. The second box held a mixer for Mom, the next one some tools for Dad, the third an electric train set for my brother and then my tears began. There was only one box left and it was the biggest one so I knew it couldn’t be for me. Dad tore it open and there was a doll. I was a tomboy through and through, but I could still appreciate dolls especially when they were so big and beautiful.

This doll had beautiful hair, the fanciest dress I had ever seen and a button that said, "I Can Really Walk." I cannot tell you how I felt the moment I realized that doll was mine. I walked for hours pulling that hard plastic doll around with clunking legs that moved in rhythm with my own.

There were other times he would show up on my birthday with the most off-the-wall gifts and they were always perfect. Once he gave me a push scooter, wide and boxy not like the slim line versions they have now. Another time he gave me a humongous box of pop beads of every color. I played with those beads for hours until my fingers were sore and calloused.

As I got a little older, he would let me pump gas and clean windshields using a stool he kept there just for me. He taught me to like his bull snake he kept in the station to keep the mice down and would include me when pulling pranks on some of the guys.

He never got mad at me and he would always take time to talk with me about things he felt were important. We had a real long talk when he found me looking into a little key chain viewer that had a picture of a woman minus her clothes. He talked about adults and men and women and growing up and understanding someday and all I could think was how they got that big of picture into that small of keychain.

Hanging out at the station also revealed a man who would give a guy a set of tires for just about nothing because "he was down on his luck." When people were passing through town and ran out of gas, the police would call Cousin Bud. He’d fill their car up with gas, give them some money, the kids some candy and pop and wish them luck.

Although Cousin Bud had some rental houses, he owned a building downtown and lived up above it. One night the building caught fire. I was probably nine or ten at the time and I went with Dad to the fire. Cousin Bud was standing at a window tossing boxes, tins, bottles and bags of money out of the window. They were hitting the ground and rolling and blowing all over. I remember seeing flames behind him and I have no idea how he got out, but I wasn’t scared because I knew Cousin Bud could do anything.

Not too long after that, Cousin Bud got sick. I heard the word cancer and I wasn’t old enough to realize the seriousness of that word. The station and store closed and he spent some time in the hospital.

When he came home, he lived in a teeny, tiny travel trailer and I would sneak over to see him. He’d be lying in bed, smoking cigarettes and drinking whisky, and we would talk. We talked about guns, God, old coins and my childish ramblings. He asked me questions about my life and told me how smart I was and how I could do anything. Every time I complained about my mom, he always said I would understand when I had children. I never heard him judge or criticize anybody. I saw him sad, but never angry. I listened closely, but there were so many things I was just too young to understand.

I was twelve and I never thought he would die. He did. I went to his funeral and saw him in his coffin and I felt so alone I wanted to crawl in with him. I wouldn’t go to school for several days until finally the school called about my absence. I went back to school and the teacher was mad. She said, "He was only your cousin, not even a close relative." She just didn’t know he was my world.

I’m not condoning bad habits, as I sit here drinking a Dr. Pepper, but he made me realize that just because a person smokes, drinks or hangs out with the wrong crowd, it doesn’t mean they are a bad person. He did teach me that caring for people enough to take time to supply something missing in their life makes you a very special person.

Those strange conversations have never left my memory. Sometimes I Google Bud Hale of Coffey County to look at his gun collection that was donated to the Coffey County Museum. I enjoy remembering him and am grateful I was so fortunate to have that smoking, drinking, skirt-chasing man in my young life. I wish I could tell Cousin Bud "thank you and I do kind of understand."

Also, there are some weeks I have the opportunity to talk with a variety of people on a variety of subjects. I have so enjoyed the week talking to Teresa, the Gerstners and James Pounds. Every person is a story with multiple chapters. The problem comes with trying to reduce the information down to fit in the newspaper.

Also, don’t forget about all of the activities at the Barber County Fair this weekend!

Also, August 5 is the last day to sign up for the fishing derby. Take your son, your daughter, your grandson or granddaughter and make an unforgettable memory.

Also, thanks Brenda for a perfect reminder that we are all aging and we just as well have a sense of humor about the whole thing!

Also, have an excellent week.

The only couple that had a period of time in an ideal world was Adam and Eve and they messed that up. They didn’t have the struggles we do. They didn’t have to worry about providing food for the table, finances, keeping up with the Jones or problems with in-laws. I guess they just didn’t have enough to keep them busy and out of trouble and you know the results of their actions. God kicked them out of Paradise!

Then real life began. I can imagine Eve grumping at Adam. "I’ve been taking care of kids all day and trying to fix food for this family and all you do is just sit there. You don’t even pick up your own fig leaves. Are you listening to me?" Adam is leaned up against a tree and without looking up he says, "move out of the way woman, I want to finish watching this squirrel fight before I go down to the river and watch the beavers finish their dam".

She couldn’t threaten to go home to her mother and there were no lawyers yet, so divorce was out of the question. I bet she regretted disobeying God many times before her time on earth was done.

Things are different now and way more complicated. There are a variety of options for a relationship in trouble, but it takes effort to incorporate them into your life.

I heard for years that marriage is a 50/50 partnership and that made sense to me. Then somewhere I heard that marriage had to be 100% from both parties and that made me rethink the 50/50 philosophy. I’m in agreement with the 100% way of thinking.

Let’s just pretend that life is ideal for a short time. If both people involved in a relationship had the intention of doing everything possible to make their partners happy, both people would be happy. Everything would be balanced and neither would feel like they were doing all of the giving. How simple that sounds!

Here again is my philosophy, but the following actions sure couldn’t hurt a relationship and they might actually help.

Participants in a relationship have to make a DECISION that they are in the relationship for the long haul and be willing to do whatever it takes to make it work.

Participants should be willing to INITIATE actions that will strengthen their relationship instead of waiting for their significant other to do so.

Participants should put an effort into having FUN together. Good times make a relationship stronger and create good memories to see you through the bad times.

Participants should both practice FORGIVENESS in their relationship. Nobody is perfect and if we want forgiven for our mess ups, we better be willing to forgive our significant others. Both parties should be willing to use the three little words of "I am sorry". Sometimes those three little words go a lot further than "I love you".

Participants should INCLUDE God in their relationship. Although having God in your relationship through the good times may not seem important, knowing God through the bad times may be the only way to get through. Having someone in control who has the power to change the water into wine, feed a bunch of people with very little food and heal the sick is not an inconvenience.

Participants should be willing to COMMUNICATE with their significant other no matter what the situation. Most misunderstandings are because of a lack of communication and most ugly fights start with a small misunderstanding.

Participants should be willing to love their significant other UNCONDITIONALLY. Attaching stipulations to your love will tangle things up so badly that the love can’t flow freely and that is not good.

Participants should be willing to LAUGH together. Sharing a laugh with your significant other can help pave a road that is filled with potholes.

Participants should be willing to TRUST their significant other with their dreams, fears, goals and disappointments.

Maybe it would be easier to remember all of this if we put it in an acronym. Ummmmkay, it would be: DIFFICULT. I believe anyone in a relationship can remember this one!

Also, if you saw a white limo cruising the square a week or so ago, it was me with my family. My children rented the limo for a couple of hours for my birthday after they threw me a party. Thanks for everything guys. You all are wonderful!

Also, don’t forget to visit the Barber County Fair. The rodeo is on Friday, July 27 and Saturday, July 28, the Pake McEntire show on Friday, August 3 and the Demolition Derby on Saturday, August 4. Don’t forget to include a trip through the buildings to admire the animals, the food and the crafts. Sometimes the simple things in life are the most enjoyable.

Also, have an excellent week!

I realize that you 20 and 30 year olds are thinking, nooooooooo way am I going to let those things happen to me. I’ve been there and made up my mind I was never going to be like my mother. Now I make the same expressions and noises, have many of the same actions and I find myself saying things I heard coming out of her mouth. Soooo, sorry guys, but you only have two options, grow old or die!

You 60 and 70 year olds are thinking that I have no idea of what lies ahead. I have been told recently by several people that when you are 50 you are in your prime. I find that just a little scary and a little exciting. I do want to remind those of you who are a little ahead of me in life that I live by "ignorance is bliss" in several areas in my life. This is one of those areas.

My own philosophy here, but I think of it all as age erosion. You guys that farm and ranch know what I mean. If you see something everyday, you just don’t notice the subtle deterioration. Then bammmm, it is bad enough that all at once you go, "wow when did all of that happen?" It seems like the same thing happens with aging. One morning you look in the mirror and become stunned with all of the lines, wrinkles, crows feet, age spots, bags and sags and it is wake up time! Uuuhuh, yep, it is happening to you. Middle age has arrived.

Other things seem to creep up on you without written warning. Your arms shrink up so you can’t hold reading material far enough away from your eyes to read. Doors don’t seem to swing as easy on their hinges as they once did. The lids on jars are tighter or just plain stuck. People start talking softer around you and as much as you would like to think it may be from respect for their elders, it may have something to do with how well you hear.

After decades of knowing about Newton’s Law of Gravity, thinking how it may affect you, except to recognize that what goes up must come down, takes on a whole new perspective during middle-age. Things you don’t think of being up are going down. Firm may apply to fruit and handshakes but isn’t included in your self-analysis when looking in the mirror.

I believe in fighting the whole process as much as possible. Seldomly do I ever leave Walmart without some product in my cart that has something to do with anti-aging. Yes, these products do make my skin look younger. Within a week I’m back at Walmart in the section frequented by adolescents needing to clear up their blemishes. I get glances from the young ones that scream, either that women is shopping for somebody else or she’s delusional. Those young girls have no idea what is hidden in my cracks and crevices!

There were many advantages of youth that I let pass me by. Hindsight tells me it is a little late for those opportunities, but I better latch on to the ones available now. Soooooo, I have sent in my AARP enrollment form. If I can get some discounts because of my age, bring them on!

They say that the years bring wisdom. I’ve been examining my life and actions and I had better get serious about getting smarter. You’ve heard the saying, "too dumb to come in out of the rain"? I’ve walked in the rain a lot more in my forties than I ever did in my twenties. I love the smell and the freshness and it’s one of my favorite things to do. I know Dr. Pepper is bad for me, but I don’t stop. Well, I could go on and on and confession is good for the soul, but I’m sure you get the idea.

There are some ways I have matured. I love a lot stronger than I did when I was younger. I really really like boring. I am much more compassionate and not as judgmental. I appreciate people and what they do much more the older I get.

I realize that each day is a gift, not something promised and taken for granted. As with any gift, it is up to us to do with as we wish. There are just more consequences attached to this gift than most.

The aches and pains come more frequently and are as irritating as a fly that buzzes around your head and no matter how many times you swat at it, it just comes back. Hormones bounce around like they have their own tiny trampolines and are on some kind of exercise frenzy. Weird things happen to your body without your permission. Nobody ever accuses you of being "sharp as a tack" anymore. I have gotten smart enough to realize these things are not as important as children and grandchildren and friends and memories.

I cannot explain how I feel when I see my children find success and happiness in what they are doing. My heart melts when Marie smiles at me. I marvel at how Marissa is growing into a strong young woman not only in height, but in attitude and ideas. I hold my breath and my heart skips a beat when watching Michael Ray confidently step up to bat in his T-ball games. It is with excitement and anticipation that I look forward to November to the day I can hold my new grandson. These are the things that are important and I thank God that He has blessed me in such a fantastic way by allowing me to live to enjoy my family.

Will I stop wasting money on the bottles magically filled with the "fountain of youth?" Will I stop wasting time gazing at the boxes holding the many options I have in hair colors? Will I stop buying magazines that promise the perfect total-body workout? Will I stop buying cool make-up or cute shirts?

Nope, if boys don’t have to give up their toys, girls don’t have to stop playing dress-up even if they are in their "prime".

Also, thanks guys for the beautiful flowers and balloons. I couldn’t ask for better kids.

Also, sorry Kevin and Ronda, at my age I need my rest!

Also, have an excellent week!

Now this is the way I feel most of the time, but……… I hate vandalism and destruction. I can’t stand for people, young and old, to be mistreated. I want to go toe to toe with people who are cruel to their animals. When I see things like this, then I get angry.

I remember when all of the signs describing the vegetation and trees were destroyed at the lake. The posts were pulled out of the ground and the signs were bent and broken. I was angry. The vigilante rose up inside of me and I was ready and willing to spend some nights in the trees in my camouflage and war paint and give the vandals an opportunity to experience running in wet pants. Of course I didn’t carry out my plan except in my mind.

Recently I had a round with some extreme anger. A reporter from The Hutchinson News called me and wanted Mandy’s telephone number. She explained to me that she wanted to do a story on the children from Greensburg and the effects the tornado had on them. She said that she had talked to a child psychologist who had given her suggestions for parents to make the trauma a little more manageable. It sounded like a good thing and I gave her Mandy’s number.

She interviewed Mandy over the phone and a couple of days later a photographer showed up at her house and took pictures of Michael Ray for several hours. We were excited for the story to come out in the paper. I was going to add it to the papers I have been saving for Michael Ray and Marie so they will realize when they get older just what they survived.

The story came out on Monday, June 28 and it was an awful story.

She didn’t get Michael Ray’s name right and it all went downhill from there. I knew I would have the tendency to be a little partial and bias in the matter so I had Kevin and Ronda read it. They agreed with me and Ronda went even further. She said that if she had not known Mandy, she would have thought that she was a terrible mother and would have felt sorry for Michael Ray for having a mother like her.

The story focused on the anger Michael Ray is experiencing. Mandy witnessed him hitting their dog, Harley, and made an appointment that day for Michael Ray to receive counseling.

I know the story made Mandy sound like about the worse mother around. The story had nothing positive to say about Michael Ray. The story was bad enough, but after the photographer had taken hours of pictures of Michael Ray playing and interacting with the family, they chose to print a horrible picture.

This picture showed a woman with her hands thrown out behind her back while her son is trying to hug her. He’s looking up at her with this anguish on his face and it just about breaks your heart. The cut line started out with "Michael Ray tries to hug his mother….". The actual cut line should have read, "Michael Ray is begging his mother to go play with a friend and she is telling him not until after the photographer leaves."

Oh my goodness, I was ready to drive to Hutchinson right then. Instead I wrote a letter to the editor and it was way too long. I had to work hard to reduce my anger down to 500 words.

I have watched Mandy struggle with the aftereffects of the tornado. I have watched her and Joey’s frustrations in having to make so many decisions and adjustments. They have been through so much negative and for this reporter to write such an awful story and use a horrible picture, oh yeah, I was angry. Actually, I’m still angry. She hurt my daughter and it made no more sense than the destroyed signs at the lake.

I know I am not the only person to feel anger at senseless destruction and stupid actions. I had to go to the library the other morning and the librarians were angry. Some individuals had done some damage around the library the night before and they were not happy librarians. Most everybody knows Rosalee and Jan. They are extremely helpful, nice, kind and gentle women. I believe the vandals would have maybe seen a little different side to these women if the ladies had caught them in the act.

I walked back to the office thinking about the vandalism in town and how it could be curtailed and my mind wandered to Jan and Rosalee dressed up in camo, darkened faces, waiting in the shadows for a showdown with the guilty parties. It is a frightening thought to think the citizens of Medicine Lodge would feel threatened enough to resort to vigilante actions to protect their property.

What can a person do with their anger when it’s there, doesn’t seem to be leaving and keeps popping up in all the wrong places?

I went to the experts, google.com, to find some tips on anger management. I was relieved to find that anger is a normal emotion, but you do have to learn how to control your reactions.

Anger is not always bad. The instinctive, natural way to express anger is to respond aggressively. Anger is a survival technique that may have been a little more necessary in the caveman days, but is still needed for 2007. Anger can help to change situations that need to be changed.

There are steps we can take to reduce our level of anger. Breathing deep from our diaphragm instead of our chest will relax us and lower our heart rate and blood pressure. Doing relaxation exercises can make a person feel calmer and more in control of their emotions. Other methods to use are humor and visualization to dilute volatile feelings. Finding something, anything to laugh about or visualizing a relaxing experience from your imagination or memory may calm your raging actions and reactions.

See, I wasn’t too far off. Imagining grabbing a vandal’s leg on a dark cloudy night with an owl hooting in the distance right when they are getting ready to destroy something somebody had worked hard for is visualization. Listening to their fear-induced screech when I yell in my deepest voice, "all of you grab him, and don’t use your guns unless you have to" is humor. Laughing would make me breathe hard from my diaphragm which would cause me to do a few relaxing stretches.

If you do see three people skulking about in the dark in camo, faces painted and carrying large squirt guns filled with purple staining kool-aid, it is not Jan, Rosalee or I. We are scheduled to be out of town that night taking anger management classes, uummmm, in Hutchinson.

Also, if you walk the Barber County Lake or in any way are fortunate enough to be able to enjoy the beauty of the lush vegetation, wind induced waves and peace and solitude it offers, you have to appreciate the city employees. These guys keep everything looking so good. They replaced some boards on the wooden footbridge and added rock to a low place which has made walking the lake so much easier. Thank you all very very much!

Also, have an excellent week!

Power was exhibited the night of the Greensburg tornado. Two hundred mile per hour winds stripped the bark off of trees, removed houses from their foundation, rolled up asphalt and destroyed everything in its path.

Fear is also a power that has the ability to stop people from doing things they really want to do and many times interferes with achieving happiness.

Parents begin instilling healthy fear in their children at a young age. We teach our children to stay out of streets, the definition of "hot", not to take candy from strangers, avoid strange animals and not to put anything including body parts in an electrical receptacle. Having healthy fear of dangerous situations will go a long ways in keeping us safe in an unsafe world.

Sometimes for some reason or other, people develop fears of unusual things or situations which the average person does not feel are threatening.

For instance, we’ve all heard of arachnophobia, an extreme fear of spiders and claustrophobia, the fear of confined spaces. Following is a short list of phobias that I found interesting. Could it be that we all might have a little touch of some of these phobias in our lives?

Achluophobia is the fear of darkness.

Acrophobia is the fear of heights.

Agateophobia is the fear of insanity.

Agliophobia is the fear of pain.

Arsonphobia is the fear of fire.

Astraphobia is the fear of thunder and lightning.

Ataxophobia is the fear of disorder or untidiness.

Atelophobia is the fear of imperfection.

Atychipobia is the fear of failure.

Autophobia is the fear of being alone.

Catagelophobia is the fear of being ridiculed.

Decidophobia is the fear of making decisions.

Dentophobia is the fear of dentists.

Entomophobia is the fear of insects.

Gerontophobia is the fear of growing old.

Glossophobia is the fear of speaking in public.

Iatrophobia is the fear of going to the doctor.

Ophidiophobia is the fear of snakes.

Phobophobia is the fear of phobias.

These are only a few of the hundreds of phobias that are listed. Most people can understand how the above phobias can affect a individual’s way of life especially if they are taken to extremes..

Other phobias include everything from fear of the moon and stars, colors, sleep, birds, flowers, the Pope, paper, meteors, numbers, rabies, lawsuits, otters and peanut butter sticking to the top of your mouth. How awful to suffer from Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia. This is a phobia of long words. How would you ever bring yourself to tell others about your illness?

I apologize to those with Metrophobia, a fear or hatred of poetry for my following thoughts on fear.

A huge dark mass moving at a slow pace

Always present, always waiting in the background

To surround your body, your mind, your face

A surprise attack without any sound.

Common sense tries to convince you of what is real

The tightening of your throat, the thumping in your veins

Your brain is struggling with what you feel

Your body is shrinking from all of your pains.

You can’t reason the darkness away

You have tried so many times and lost

The darkness turns the sunshine to gray

All alone in your misery you’re tossed

Fear ties you up in unbreakable chains

Powerful enough to destroy your dreams

It’ll leave you limp as your energy it drains

Overtaking your hopes, goals and schemes

You can’t stop fighting, you can’t let fear win

Hold up your head high and walk with a strut

When you feel that dark fear rise up from within

Gather up all of your strength and kick its butt.

Also, have an excellent week!.

I stopped at the spillway and was watching the water cascade over the sides and listening to the roar as it hit the debris at the bottom of the large cement enclosures.

I noticed a school of minnows swimming across the current from one side of the spillway to the other staying close to the edge of the rushing water. Several minnows swam a little too close and received a wild ride to the bottom of the cavern. I have no idea of the results of their trip, but it couldn’t have been real pleasant at the speed that water was moving.

I stood and watched while Lace did some swimming and I wondered why the minnows would choose to swim so close to a dangerous area. Not having any idea of a minnow’s thought process, I substituted my own.

Minny, the matriarch of the school looked at Finnigan, called the Fin Miester from past shady escapades, and thoroughly criticized those minnows that were pulled over the side by the current. Her conversation probably went something like this. "I can’t believe that Slimey got so close to the edge that he went over. Where was the minnow that was supposed to be watching him? I think Gabby was taking care of him today. She was probably off talking and not paying attention to what Slimey was doing. I saw Flash get too close to the edge, but he wasn’t my responsibility so I didn’t say anything and now he’s gone forever. Happy was supposed to be watching him, but oh no, she was too busy having a good time to be responsible. Squirmy went over too, but I knew he would never make it far in life with his attitude and disrespect for every other living thing in this lake. Finnigan, are you listening to me? I believe I am the only minnow in this school that has more than an ounce of common sense in her head." Finnigan, not wanting Minnie to know that he had challenged many of the fish that went over the side that day on how close they could get to the edge before being sucked into the current, readily agreed with everything she said. Of course, Minny didn’t mention that when Slick was in her care, he played a dangerous game with a rather large carp and met his demise or that the day she was taking care of Mac, he was caught turtle knocking and was sent down river for several years for the offense.

The whole minnow thing started me thinking about nature. I don’t mean the trees, plants, flowers and grass, I mean the things that we just naturally do.

Take for example, my dog Lace is part Lab and part Border Collie. Show her a body of water and she’s ready to swim from one side to the other. She grabs a stick and with a challenge in her eyes, she wants to know just how far I can throw it. These things are okay, but there are others that I find rather distasteful.

She loves to hunt for gophers and moles. She comes to a dead stop, pounces on a mole hill, goes into a digging frenzy and there is one less mole in the world. She’ll run to catch up with me with her tail high and the dead mole hanging from her smile and she is so proud. All I can do is make a retching noise, divert my eyes and hope I don’t meet up with another walker. Having a big dog run up to you with a dead mole in her mouth does not add to the serenity of an evening walk.

Then there is the nature of humans. I don’t understand human nature anymore than I understand fish and dog nature. I do think animals have a much simpler and purer nature than we do.

Actually, if we want to go back to the beginning with Adam and Eve, it doesn’t give us much hope for the nature of man. They lived in a perfect place, didn’t have to worry about a job or what clothes to wear or the price of gas and they still messed up pretty bad.

The pointing of fingers and laying the blame on someone else all started in paradise.

Now we are a long, long ways from paradise. We live in a world where many of our leaders are greedy, power hungry, lying jerks lacking consciences when making decisions that affect the mass population.

We can concentrate on the political corruption that is so rampant in our government, but how will that affect our nature? I don’t know, but I would guess that we would become like them. We would become distrusting, fearful, angry, ugly people. Life is too short to allow ourselves to be caught up in that powerful current. I know that we need to be alert to what is going on around us. We need to vote because it is a right that if we don’t use it, we will lose it. We need to spend time in finding out about the person we are voting for so we can make a wise decision.

Most of all, we need to check on our nature. Is it a caring, giving, nurturing nature or are we angry, defensive and intolerant of others? Do we take responsibility for our own actions or do we tend to point a finger and place the blame on someone else?

Do we ourselves walk on the edge and then criticize those caught up in the current refusing to throw them a lifeline? Are we too busy in our own lives that we have tunnel vision and can’t see others around us that need our help, our attention, our time?

Hey, I don’t know any of the answers or solutions. I struggle daily with my hormone controlled, unbalanced, co-dependent influenced, maladjusted nature. I was just asking.

Also, things have been pretty hectic lately in my work life and personal life. I get so busy just doing that sometimes I let a lot of things slide by without being as appreciative of them as I should. For instance, the encouragement you all give me. As I near deadline each week and ask myself a multitude of times why I thought I could ever do this job, someone takes the time to offer some encouraging words and I think, ummmkay, one more week!

Also, thanks for the Dr. Pepper Jim. Things were crazy and it would have been a while before I could have made the trip to IGA. You gave my caffeine-starved brain its break for the day.

Also, have an excellent week!

We choose to be nice or nasty. We choose to eat healthy foods or unhealthy foods. We choose what clothes to wear, what to buy, what to do and who to do it with. There are big choices, little choices, those that take excruciating examination and those choices made with little thought involved.

We make the choice to do things "good enough to get by" or "go that extra mile." Sometimes we do things "good enough to get by" because of too many things to do and not enough time to do them.

In Matthew, Chapter Five, the Bible instructs us that if someone asks for our shirt, we should give him our coat also. If someone asks us to go one mile with him, we should go two.

Now technically, I have a closet full of shirts I don’t wear and a tote full of coats that I would love to share. I like to walk so I wouldn’t mind doing an extra mile. I have my bases covered with that commandment.

In actuality, I know Jesus was telling us to put some effort into life, to move out of our comfort zone and go for the goal.

When I think about someone going the extra mile, I think of a lady that lives in Burlington, Kansas. Her name is Gloria Castle. I can’t tell you exactly how it all started. I know she went to the same church as Mom did. Mom never did drive and had stopped walking to take care of her business as she had done for many years. Gloria started getting her groceries, taking her to church, taking her to the doctor and running other errands for her.

Gloria went through a cockroach infestation in Mom’s apartment, a period of time that Mom was sure that demons had caused the street lights around her apartment to go out and a constant battle with the unsanitary conditions of Mom’s refrigerator.

When we moved to Medicine Lodge in 1991, I tried to get Mom to move here also. In my mind, it would be a perfect setup. She could live in her own apartment, eat her meals with us, have a garden at our house and enjoy her grandchildren.

She refused and when she refused to do something, that was the end of the discussion. Many times her soft brown eyes reflected a gentle soul, but when her eyes became hard and sharp, they matched the words that came from her mouth.

Gloria was the recipient of those words many times when she tried to help Mom with her finances. Mom lived on a small social security check and most of it went to help "poor government agencies" or other causes that filled her mail box each day. She would send most of her money to these organizations without leaving herself food money for the month.

Mom wasn’t much over a hundred pounds, but she was pretty scary sometimes, but Gloria kept on.

When I visited Mom and felt overwhelmed with the situation, Gloria was my sounding board. Taking Mom to church always made memories. Because she couldn’t hear, she didn’t think others could hear her rather loud bodily noises or her "whispers" in the middle of prayers or right when the pastor was making a point. I was always embarrassed, but exchanging looks with Gloria made it a whole lot better and just a tiny bit funny.

There were times Gloria got tired of dealing with her and wanted to quit. The thing is, she never did. She not only went the extra mile with Mom, she went the full 100,000 miles.

I will never forget what Gloria did for my Mom. I will never forget the example she showed me on what going the extra mile is all about. She always said it was a "God thing" and something she was suppose to do, but I still wonder if I could ever walk the road that she walked with my mother.

Sometimes we get so busy in life that we don’t notice those around us giving more than they have to give. The fact is, we are fortunate to live in a community of giving people.

A walk through the schools will give you a good look at giving. You will see teachers not only teaching students, but interacting with them in conversation and smiles.

A trip to the hospital will give you a look at a group of people not only doing their jobs by taking care of patients physically, but also offering encouragement and smiles.

How about the farmers in this area that joined together to help farmers in storm stricken areas.

Do we stop to appreciate all of our volunteers who work at the hospital, drive people to doctor appointments or treatments out of town, drive the transportation van and deliver meals on wheels?

We have many people that work many unpaid hours that keeps the framework strong that Medicine Lodge is built on. All of these people are going the extra mile and should be appreciated for their effort.

Mandy called me the other night and told me about volunteers from a Methodist Church in Overland Park going to Greensburg to help with the cleanup. The remains of their house had been bulldozed down, but the basement was filled up and the property needed to be cleaned up. These volunteers not only went in and cleaned out the basement after building stairs, they raked the yard. Although it is heartbreaking to see your house gone, these volunteers saved Joey and Mandy hours and hours of work. Mandy is so grateful for not having to deal with not only the physical, but the emotional misery of cleaning up the debris that once was her home. This group of volunteers went the extra mile.

We all get tired, we all get busy, but we all probably need to occasionally reprioritize our lives to give ourselves a little more time to walk that extra mile.

Also, speaking of walking, there was a bunch of walking done at the track at Krug Field during the Relay for Life. The weather was great, conversation was good, activities were fun, but watching the Survivor’s Lap was absolutely awesome. I watched that group of people in their purple shirts carrying balloons and the tears were there. The strength and courage winning over pain and fear represented in those walkers that evening goes beyond description.

Also, I hope you were fortunate enough to be able to enjoy the Chautauqua event held in Medicine Lodge this past weekend. There were a lot of people that "went the extra mile" to make that event possible.

Also, have an excellent week!

I was going back through some old newspapers the other day and I got to feeling a little nostalgic. There was a picture of Andrea cleaning up after the Hoisington tornado. It made me think about having the kids all back under the same roof. There were some really rough times, financially hard times, but just seeing and talking to the kids everyday made them good times.

Then I came to our coverage of September 11, 2001. I thought about everything that had happened since that time and was immediately grateful for not being able to see into the future. How could anyone ever be happy with having knowledge of the future hanging around their neck like an albatross?

There are definitely times that foreseeing the future would come in handy. Think how low the divorce rate would fall if after the first date with somebody, we could see what kind of companion that person would be. In fact if that was possible, there probably wouldn’t be many marriages and the population would drop drastically.

Seeing into the future would take the guess work out of buying a used car. We would know how many good miles are left on the vehicle and whether it would still be running when the last payment had been paid.

We wouldn’t have to suffer through the dressing room horrors as we would know whether clothes would fit when taken from the racks.

Decision making would be a snap, we could avoid the things we’re going to have an allergic reaction to, buy the perfect gift every time and we wouldn’t have to pay for caller ID on our telephones. The list goes on and on.

What if we could see the future, but not be able to do anything about changing the events?

How would people ever be able to thrive and survive knowing they were going to go through a tornado, a fire or some other major catastrophe in the future? Even to a lesser degree, some of the day to day happenings would be pretty overwhelming if we knew they were coming at us and there was nothing we could do about it.

I’ve whined a lot lately. You know the whines I’m talking about. "I’m tired and I’m getting old and I’m upset with…., and I have too much to do and on and on and on.

Things were put in perspective one afternoon last week. I called Mandy to pass on a message. She said someone had just called her and told her that Michael Sorg had been killed in a car wreck. My world fell apart. I called Michael and couldn’t get him on his cell phone. I called the guys he works with and they didn’t answer either. Kevin called several law enforcement agencies to see whether a fatality accident had occurred in their county.

It was close to a half an hour before I found out there had been a mistake and the wrong information given. It was one of the longest half an hours in my life. My mind was racing, my heart breaking and all I could do was cry. Even after I found out that Michael was okay, I was so tired and emotionally exhausted my productivity for the day came to a screeching halt.

I hurt for Mandy and Joey and what they have lost. I find it incomprehensible when I think about all of the Greensburg residents and their experiences, but where there is breath, there is still hope. Somehow, someway, things will work out. I realize that death is part of life, but the separation from people you love is something that is never easy no matter what the situation.

My son is still alive and I am so very grateful. I cannot describe what that half an hour was like, but it made me hurt for the multitude of parents that hear their child has died. I can’t imagine what they go through and I don’t want to find out.

When God was making us, He thought of everything. He gave us the gifts of sight, hearing, touching, communicating and many others that we take for granted. One of these gifts is to not be able to foresee the future.

In Matthew, chapter 6, verse 30 in The New King James Version, Jesus says, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."

I think about these words a lot when I start stressing over the future and they are so true. Tomorrow always brings a new set of troubles and usually different from today’s problems. I prefer looking at life through rose colored glasses. I stand firm on the statement that "ignorance is bliss" and I like it that way.

I feel only pity for the psycho psychics that have their predictions plastered on the covers of the tabloids. Although I know we all must plan for the future, I don’t want to know the details. There is a saying, "Dream as if you’ll live forever, live like there is no tomorrow." How different our lives would be if we would do just that. Arguments would lose their significance, hate would lose its power, and love would become our more dominant emotion.

I know I’ll keep whining, I do it so well, but I’ll never forget the half an hour spent wondering if my son had died. It made an impact on me and made me realize just how blessed I am.

Also, take your kids, join your friends and head to Krug Field for the Relay for Life fund-raiser for the American Cancer Society on June 8 at 7:00 p.m. There will be good food and good fun while spending good times with good friends and a chance to get in some good walking time and all for a good cause.

Also, don’t forget to put the Chautauqua event on you list of fun things to do with the family. It will be an exciting and enjoyable experience for every age without having to spend a lot of money on gas to get there.

Also, Happy Birthday Andrea!

Also, have an excellent week!

We’ve went from the "empty-nest syndrome" with three cats, a gecko and a dog to a daughter, a six year old boy, a 2½ month old girl with colic and sometimes her daddy. Also included in our population explosion is a mother cat and her kitten.

This mama cat is a calico cat with the name of Callie. She had surgery May 3 and went through a tornado May 4 and she is not a happy contented cat. She struggles to control her kitten and keep her safe. As a mother, I sympathize with that difficult task, but like some people, she’s miserable and she has decided every other animal in our house is going to be miserable also.

Usually my mornings are pretty quiet. There is the sound of running water as I start my bath, an occasional hiss as I open my Dr. Pepper bottle and if I need a little motivation for the day, I turn on some quiet music. I feed my animals while my bath water is running. We have a routine that works quite well for us. We all know our parts and when the alarm screams out "action", we all take our places.

Now my mornings are considerably less quiet. When the alarm flips our switch for the day, the dog and cats don’t race to the kitchen as if being late would cause them to lose their place in the chow line, they cautiously slink. Creeping down the stairs, eyes wild, tails twitching, ready to bolt, they ready themselves to face Callie one more day for one more meal.

After Callie has her breakfast, it is time for her baby’s bath. While I sit in my bath, I listen to Callie as she talks to her kitten. The tones are different and you can distinguish between, "where are you, get over here right now" and "you are the prettiest and smartest little kitten in the world." Interspersed with her yowls are the rebellious noises of the kitten when firmly disciplined by mama for being so rowdy.

They communicate with one another and although there is no way to interpret their conversation, it isn’t difficult to see and hear the love in that mother and child relationship. The problem is, the other animals are just not feeling that love!

Other new morning noises include Michael Ray struggling on his subconscious battlefield. His verbal ramblings are not of a child in a restful sleep. I pray that soon he will be settled again and his nighttime wars will be won.

Marie wakes up for her breakfast bottle. She seems to like a little conversation with her meals as she coos softly to her mama and daddy and receives gentle replies in return.

It amazes me to watch how early communication begins in life. Communication is vital to healthy relationships. Without communication, life goes wrong.

My mom was never much of a talker. We talked very little besides the day to day necessary talk. I was unforgiving towards her for years because she didn’t protect me, she didn’t keep me clean, she didn’t teach me about life and her lack of communication made me feel unwanted.

I didn’t understand at the time and had to go through some rough times in my own life before realizing that she handled life and me in the best way she could. I would have understood a lot sooner if she would have just talked to me.

By the time I realized the extent of her limitations, she had lost her hearing. Communicating had to be done by way of a dry-erase board. I tried to talk to her about important things, but if she didn’t want to talk about the subject I wrote about, she just looked away. I quickly realized that the one doing the writing is going to be the one losing the argument. By the time I would get something written, she’d be off in a different direction and what I had just written was of no use. The visit left me frustrated with writer’s cramps.

I visited mom as often as I could. In the last couple of years she even told me that she loved me a few times. I’m not for sure in what capacity, whether as a daughter, someone who brought her things, or maybe just someone who took care of her, but by this time, it didn’t matter.

I was finally able to see mom as a woman who tried, who was tired, someone who was badly hurt emotionally from a very young age and never knew any other way.

I sat beside her as she died and held her hand. I prayed that God would help her understand as I told her that it was okay to die, I was okay and I loved her.

Thanks to mom, I tell my kids nearly every time I talk to them that I love them. Knowing they love me gives me strength and happiness that gets me through some pretty lousy days.

Thanks to mom, I want my conversation with my children to flow freely. I know I’ve made mistakes in motherhood and I’m sorry, but I tried. I want them to know how much I love them. I want them to understand the way I feel about things and why. I want to understand how they feel about things and why because if we ever get to a point where they have to use a dry-erase board to communicate with me, they will be in trouble.

It’s been over three weeks since that devastating EF5 tornado hit Kiowa County, Kansas. It’s been over three weeks since our "empty nest syndrome" got interrupted. They will soon be moving on with their lives and leaving our house. I’m going to miss them. Michael Ray and his constant questions, his "I love yous" and his mischievous manner are reasons to laugh. Marie and her toothless smiles melt my heart every time. The piles and piles of laundry and dishes, uuhhhh, well there will be maybe a few things I won’t miss!

Also, thank you for being so good to Mandy and her family. The encouragement and support from the community will be the good memories that come from the May 4 nightmare.

Also, have an excellent week!

Mental illnesses are medical conditions that disrupt a person’s thinking, feelings, mood, ability to relate to others, and daily functioning. These mental illnesses are conditions that often result in a diminished capacity for coping with the ordinary demands of life.

Among the many mental disorders are Anger Issues, Anxiety Disorders, Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Chemical Abuse, Dementias, Dissociative Disorders, Eating Disorders, Major Depression, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Schizo-affective Disorder, Schizophrenia, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Suicidal Tendencies and Tourette’s Syndrome.

If you are fortunate enough to not suffer from any of these disorders, reading about the symptoms of these illnesses will bring on a touch of paranoia and a case of hypercondriacism. We all have times that we may wonder about our sanity and if that is not the case with you, you may be delusional.

How do we know if we are suffering from one of these mental illnesses and not just reacting to the day to day stresses that sometimes become overwhelming?

If your way of thinking and your actions are affecting your relationships, your job and the way you live, get help.

Getting help is not a sign of weakness. Getting help is a sign of strength, of wanting more out of life, living not just existing.

One of the many serious results of mental illness is the harm that is caused to others by the person with the mental disorder. Due to the disorder, the person may abuse the people they love. Whether this abuse is physical or emotional, the damaging results will last a lifetime unless everyone involved gets some kind of counseling.

This brings up other questions. When a person does something wrong, should the action be blamed on some mental disorder? This seems like it would take all responsibility away from that person and give them a license to act in any manner they wish.

Actually, I do believe that chemicals and hormones cause you to say and do things you wouldn’t normally say and do.

Ask most men who have ever been in a relationship with a woman about his thoughts on PMS. They are going to agree with me when I say hormones are mighty and can turn nice into nasty!

I have absolutely no idea how anybody can differentiate between the actions of "bad guys" and "good guys with mental disorders that act like bad guys".

I think it all comes down to being held responsible and accountable for our actions. We need to be aware of how far the results of our actions may reach.

For example, there was an employee in a top position at Friends University that was fired recently due to authorities charging him in an internet sex sting. Allegedly he went to Olathe intending to have sex with someone he thought was a 15-year-old girl.

We hear things like this all of the time on the news. Open up a big city newspaper and you will get your fill of ugly things going on. We become almost immune to the disturbing happenings in our world. It may bother you for a few minutes, but then it passes on through and allows room for something even more unthinkable.

The former employee of Friends University is Wayne R. Morgan, Jr. I always heard him referred to as Dr. Morgan. He was Julia’s Chemistry I teacher at Hutchinson Junior College and one of her favorite people on that campus. She had problems with Chemistry and he would help her before class and after class. He encouraged her in her life and there was not one bad thing she could say about him.

Julia’s friend and roommate at the time, Jennifer Poindexter was his aide. They were both comfortable around him. Julia spoke of how well he seemed to relate to the college age youth.

What happened? Does he have a mental disorder that caused him to behave in this manner? Should he be held accountable for his actions even though he had lived an exemplary life up to this time? How many people besides his family and his friends has he hurt through his actions? Will Julia lose faith in her "inner pervert meter?"

Not only should we be held responsible for our actions, we should also be held responsible for getting help if we are having problems coping with the ordinary demands of life. I truly believe that statement, but at the same time I see a lot of gray areas, it just isn’t black and white.

What makes me so wishy washy? Yes, a question I can answer! I could be the poster child for co-dependency, I’ve dealt with an 18 year addiction to Dr. Pepper and I’m constantly fighting a hostile battle with my hormones.

This makes me fully aware of how hard it is to kick an addiction and how difficult it is at certain times to control my mouth and actions. It reminds me of the Bible verse about being more concerned with removing the board from my own eye instead of worrying about removing the splinter from my neighbor’s eye.

It is difficult for people to be accountable and take responsibility for their actions when we live in a world of excuses, but absolutely nobody has the right to hurt another person physically or emotionally no matter what (unless in self-defense).

We can blame our actions on our parents, our genetics, our friends, a lack of sleep, an illness, an addiction or any other number of things, but the only one who is totally responsible is the one we see when we look in the mirror.

Also, I noticed in a news release that came through on the fax the other day that Greensburg has received so many donations, there are no longer places to store them. Now what does that tell you about the people of Kansas and groups and individuals scattered all over the United States? It tells us that even though we may be a nation with a lot of mental health disorders, we’re also a nation that gives when there is a need.

Also, have an excellent week!

During the darkest moments in peoples lives some of the best memories shine through. The survivors of the Greensburg tornado will have stories that will be passed down from generation to generation. These stories will tell of the panic in the minutes before the tornado, the terror experienced through the tornado and the overwhelming devastation of the town after the tornado.

These accounts will also include stories of the special things that were found during the cleanup. There will be weird stories of things that happened during the tornado that seems totally impossible. There will be stories of all of the mini miracles that gave hope to those in a hopeless situation. There will be stories of people who stepped up to the plate when needed and each and every one of these people are heroes.

Immediately after the tornado had passed, neighbors were checking on neighbors not their property loss. Their excitement ran high when hearing friends were safe and the tears flowed easily when they heard of friends and neighbors that were missing.

The staff at the hospital quietly and efficiently handled their patients, the injured, uninjured and those in shock. They brought as much calm as possible into the chaotic scene. With the help of those volunteering, they stayed at the hospital until each person had been moved to a safe place.

Law Enforcement Officers prompted by dedicated dispatchers came together from surrounding counties to work as one group with one mission. Firemen and rescue workers hit the streets searching the wreckage for victims of the brutal storm. EMTs were called when one was found that needed medical assistance and transport.

One of the men going from house to house doing a body check found Mandy and Joey’s mother cat and kitten in a closet. He put the cats in an animal crate with food, water and their toys so they would be okay until the animal rescue workers came through. Joey’s mother talked with a man that had taken refuge at the hospital from the rain as she was recovering files. Into the conversation, she realized she was talking to the man that had seen to the safety of the mother cat and kitten and was able to thank him. Going that extra mile is what makes a hero.

Giving a smile, a word of encouragement, a helping hand to those in need. These things, these people, these workers will be part of the stories told by the survivors.

Our family has been amazed at the many friends and strangers that have reached out to help Mandy and Joey and the children. They have dressed the children and included toys. They have brought adult clothes and food. They have been given checks and cash to cover their present needs and gift cards that have been tucked away for the time they make a decision on where to go and what to do. More importantly, encouragement and comfort has been given when it was much needed.

I believe people can make it through just about anything as long as they know they are not in it by themselves.

Yes, there were bad things that happened through this disaster. There was some looting, people were caught and people will pay. Life seems to ensure that what goes around does come around and it works both ways, bad for bad, good for good. There has been so much good.

People all over the country are doing what they can to reach out to the people in Greensburg and tell them, we’re behind you, we’ll help you, what do you need?

Mother Nature waged a war on Greensburg and although it seems Greensburg lost, the story isn’t over. Mother Nature may be mighty, but the strength found in the spirits of men and women can and will overcome and continue even stronger than before.

As cleanup of the destruction and the reconstruction of Greensburg commences, the strength of the residents is apparent for all to see.

Also, I want to thank everyone for the help you have given to Mandy and Joey and the kids. It has been incredible how different people have provided different things and they all go together to provide everything needed from underwear to make-up.

Also, oooppps, I made a mistake in the airport story last week. Just a minor one in the amount of approximately five million dollars. I stated that the estimated cost of the airport was 3.8 million dollars. Nope, it is $8,136,875.00. $3,831,250.00 is the estimated cost of the first phase. Thanks for bringing that small matter to my attention.

Also, this community may not be perfect, but it is filled with wonderful, caring and giving people. We are all so fortunate to live in a town that people follow their hearts in times of need.

Also, have an excellent week!

From May 7, 2007

I grew up poor. My dad was born in 1906 and my mom in 1914. They both came from extremely poor and dysfunctional families. Their beginnings included sod houses with dirt floors, very little food and definitely no emotional support in their growing up years. Their mentality was only of survival, not getting ahead or enjoying life.

They met through a newspaper ad and married shortly after they met. They quickly became parents to a son with cerebral palsy. Another son was born 5 years later and I followed 5 years later to their surprise.

My dad was a carpenter and my mom was a housewife. Dad did excellent work and never had a lack of work, but many times he would take things in trade instead of money. These things filled up our garage, shed, barn, granary, chicken house and a couple of other out buildings sitting around in a dilapidated condition.

We had what they called a truck patch. We raised about every kind of vegetable around and mom canned them and stored them in our cold, musty, spider webbed covered cellar. We had raspberries, strawberries, boysenberries, peaches, apricots and apples. These were also canned and the excess was sold to the public from our front porch.

Without running water in the house, no air conditioning and using a pot belly stove for heat in the winter, utilities were cheap.

Girls didn’t seem to want to hang out at my house. They seemed to have problems coping with our outhouse. I know they weren’t use to dealing with catalogs in that manner, but it did give you something to look at. There were a few spiders that probably spooked them and although there were a lot of cracks in the outhouse, there were only a few holes big enough to see in or out.

The boys that hung out with my brother loved the outhouse. I didn’t realize it at the time, but they probably liked not being told to lift the nonexisting lid.

I decided that girls were just "babies" and "sissies" and the boys were a lot more fun to hang out with. I could hold my own in games of Horse with the basketball and was good at throwing darts at trees. I was awesome at finding the right stick to use to fling mud balls. Now I realize the guys let me win when it came to throwing mud balls at the neighbor’s houses. It was the dirty, barefoot girl in the long dresses that always got in trouble with the cops instead of the snickering boys that challenged her.

I was tough when fighting and learned not to cry. I knew how to pretend that other kids teasing me didn’t bother me. I did okay as a poor kid except for the animals.

Every Easter we bought at least 100 chicks. We raised them for the eggs and the roosters became Sunday dinner. I wasn’t very old before my mom taught me the fine art of ringing a chicken’s neck. As I got older, I had to use an ax on a blood stained tree stump used especially for the purpose of ending another chicken’s life. I cried and hated my parents every time I had to kill Red, Rusty, Limpy, Big Boy and the rest of them.

I would refuse to eat the wonderful smelling meal and spent the meal sulking over a dry bologna sandwich. It just didn’t register with me at that age that the bologna had some animal parts included also.

One cow we had was my baby. We got it when it was small. I don’t know if it was a male or female, but I named it Brownie. I spent a lot of time with Brownie and took care of the cow when it had the scours. After a year or so, Brownie disappeared. I just couldn’t believe that they weren’t looking for my cow. I cried for days from missing Brownie. It never crossed my mind that the disappearance of Brownie coincided with having more meat with our meals.

Then there were a couple of pigs. Whitey and Belt were their names and due to my lack of creativity in naming my animals, you can imagine what they looked like. Same story, small animals that I loved and eventually they ran off also.

Later in a conversation, I realized that they hadn’t ran off, I had eaten them. It seemed so unfair to me that my animals had to die.

Maybe this is the reason I cry over road kill. No…., it’s probably just my hormones.

I started reminiscing about Brownie while walking the lake and smelling cow poo. I guess people my age just do that, I mean the reminiscing. I started thinking about every time there is an upside in a situation, there is usually a downside. Every time there is a winner, there is a loser.

After being at the meeting concerning building a new airport, the owners and workers of the land where the proposed airport would be located seemed to be feeling like the "sacrificial cows". They were feeling like the losers in the matter. They did not want to "take one for the team."

Is there an answer, a solution to situations like this or is it all just part of life?

I don’t know, but I know that all of us are faced every day with situations like this to some degree. Whether in our jobs, our relationships or sports, life is just not a win-win situation.

I do know that if we remember the BIG C’s, we will get a lot further down the road with a lot less hurt feelings and a lot more positive results.

Communication, compromise and cooperation will make any volatile situation a little less threatening. Interject a little caring and compassion and just maybe every one can come out feeling somewhat like a winner.

I doubt if I could have used the BIG C’s to save Brownie or the rest of my childhood animals as it was all about surviving at the time and I was too young to understand. I wish I would have understood a little more then. The three c’s I used at that time were childish, crabby and cranky. Hindsight tells me they have never worked for me over the years, but there are times they just come so much easier than communication, compromise and cooperation.

Also, speaking of winning and losing, we had our Easter egg hunt. We had 651 eggs containing $416.50. Michael found the most eggs, Mandy found the most money. Julia did not win this year, but she didn’t lose either. Everyone left happy with some good memories, different strategies for next year and gas money in their pockets.

Also, get out and enjoy meeting the many visitors that will be coming to our town this weekend. Whether with the bikers or those taking the Barber County Spring Wildflower Tour sponsored by the Barber County Conservation Office, it’s always fun to meet people and make new friends.

Also, have an excellent week!

The most difficult part of each and every thing I do is working up the motivation to get them done. Many of the day to day activities come with their own motivational rewards.

For example, if I don’t scoop the litter boxes, the house smells like cat poo, thus I always scoop the litter boxes. If I don’t pay the bills, I’m looking at late charges or even worse, 3:00 a.m. awakenings from a deep sleep with thudding heart because I forgot to pay a bill. If I don’t do the dishes, there are no clean dishes when I go into an eating frenzy. It is the same with the laundry; you can’t have a good day wearing yesterday’s clothes. If the house gets gross, you can be sure you will have drop-in company. I crave that motivational reward, that feeling of accomplishment when the job is done.

Dealing with people is also something we have to do everyday. Interacting with others take a lot more thought than our many mundane tasks we do everyday. I think everyone would have to admit that sometimes it gets a little tedious when dealing with those around you. We may all need a motivational reminder at times to keep us on the right path. It doesn’t matter what color we are. It doesn’t matter what religion we are. The same behavior is encouraged by and for everyone.

Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man’s sense of values and his objectivity. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."

Confucianism teaches, "Seek to be in harmony with all your neighbors; live in amity with your brethren."

A Cherokee Prayer includes "Oh Great Spirit, grant that I may never find fault with my neighbor until I have walked the trail of life in his moccasins."

The Golden Rule according to Hinduism is, "This is the sum of all true righteousness…Treat others, as thou wouldst thyself be treated. Do nothing to thy neighbor, which hereafter Thou wouldst not have thy neighbor do to thee."

The Golden Rule according to Judaism is, "What is hurtful to yourself do not to your fellow man. That is the whole of the Torah and the remainder is but commentary."

The Golden Rule according to Buddhism is, "Hurt not others with that which pains yourself."

The Golden Rule according to Christianity is, "Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets."

It is good to have these quotes in our head and our hearts as insulation for those times that we are confronted by rude, snobby, inconsiderate, angry people that bring out the worst in us.

Islam teaches, "Follow that which is revealed thee, and persevere with patience until God shall judge; for He is the best judge."

Judaism’s version is, "Judge not thy neighbor till thou are in his place."

Hinduism instructs, "A man obtains a proper rule of action by looking on his neighbor as himself."

Christianity coaches us to, "Judge not, and ye shall not be judged; condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven."

Whether you are driving, answering the phone, working the service desk, being a cashier or the many other areas of dealing with people, these are motivational words of wisdom that will help us keep our words and actions under control.

This wisdom would lessen road rage. Homicides would become few and far between. Domestic and child abuse would become a rarity instead of daily news.

Maybe we would be a little more understanding about the "hard to deal with" people if we would stop to consider that they may be in pain, recently lost a loved one, fighting one of life’s battles or just having a completely lousy day.

Maybe if we would instill these words of wisdom into our children from the time they are babies, bullies would become extinct.

The possibilities are limitless concerning the results of this wisdom being practiced by the whole human race. Would 33 people still be alive at Virginia Tech if Cho Seung-Hui would have been treated according to The Golden Rule by his peer group while growing up?

I personally believe and try really hard to practice the above love and forgiveness thing, but there are times and there are people that I would prefer to deal with in the Old Testament way instead. "And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe, gripe for gripe. (You can find these words in Exodus 21:23-25 except the gripe for gripe part which I added for my own satisfaction.)

I thank God for grace and mercy, but.... He did give us words to govern our lives by. Basically it comes down to not doing anything to anybody you wouldn’t want done to you and don’t criticize or judge people because there’s a gigantic chance that it will come back and bite your gluteus maximus.

Also, have an excellent week!

There are several areas in my life that would fit in to this description. The one that I’ve been stressing over recently is pictures. Oh, you may think that pictures cannot be that big of deal, but mine are out of control.

I have boxes of pictures of all of my children. I have the fat, naked baby pictures. I have the pictures of each of their birthdays. There are boxes of Christmas pictures, Easter pictures, graduation pictures and just because pictures. Now I’m starting boxes of grandchildren’s pictures.

I have not dated them nor put them in albums. I have failed in maintaining their visual memories.

I should have had this job when the kids were teenagers. I could have blackmailed them with those pictures. "If you don’t do your homework, your fat naked baby pictures are going in the paper." "If you come in late, I’m pasting the picture of your bare backside running through the mud on page 2 for the whole town to see." Maybe I can use it as a threat to my grandchildren.

Each year the prom rolls around I think of pictures. Having had four children go through high school, I have pictures. If you take four kids times all of the dances, times four years, take away a few times that a couple of them didn’t go, you have a lot of pictures.

Every parent enjoys having pictures of their kids cleaned up for an evening going to a school function with their friends. These pictures add up. There are the girls with their male friends, their female friends, their "I’m sure this is the one" guys. Unfortunately or in some cases, fortunately, things didn’t work out.

All of my children are with different significant others and I’m left with hundreds of dollars worth of pictures that are only forgotten memories stored in boxes.

Actually, I ended up with a couple of pictures out of the years that I find priceless. One is when all three girls were in high school and went to the prom. The picture shows three beautiful sisters standing together with smiles on their faces. The picture shows none of the stress, frustration and "sisterly love" experienced getting ready for that prom.

The other picture is of my son Michael and his friend Robert Hauser. Some place in their teenage minds they came up with the idea to ditch the women for their Senior Prom and go together portraying the characters in the movie, Dumb and Dumber.

Once the idea came to them, they were off and running. They went to Wichita and rented blue and orange tuxedos and then spray painted hats and shoes to match. They watched the movie 26 times to get the words and actions of the characters down. They looked good and were in fine form that prom night. Michael was chosen Prom King that evening and the pictures tell the story of how much fun those two seniors had.

Now I’m left with the goal of organizing the contents of the many boxes into memory books and albums to be given to their rightful owners. I stare at some of the pictures and wonder what I was thinking when I chose to record some very unflattering poses in various stages of undress. Was I just thinking about how cute my kids were, or was there blackmail lurking in the back of my mind even then?

Also, I want to thank the Ringers for an enjoyable afternoon in their company. Their natural hospitality will be yet another reason for their guests to make return visits to the Wildfire Ranch.

Also, I have the forms for parents to pick up and do a little bragging on their children. Let us know what they have done, where they are at and what they have accomplished. Medicine Lodge has a lot of people out there in the world that we can be proud to call ours.

Also, have an excellent week!

When I was growing up, I remember my mom starting sentences with, "I have a half of mind to………" Looking back, I don’t think she ever finished that sentence with something that she actually intended to do.

Unfortunately, I would have to say, "I have a half of mind to do today." The problem is the other half of my mind seems to be the half that contains memory, focus and most of the other things I need to make it through my day.

I use sticky notes, lists and an appointment book to compensate, but I really miss the half of my mind that has left me to muddle through each day.

I was reading through The Wichita Eagle the other day and noticed an article about the aging brain having a lot going for it. I had been just skimming the articles, but that one caught my attention and I read every word.

It said that imaging research showed that our brain may actually work better as we get older. At this point the article still had my attention, but doubt started creeping in.

The article stated that scientists have believed for years humans developed all of the brain cells they would ever have by the time they were three or four years old. Now the scientists have discovered that people grow new brain cells as they grow older. The older brain has the capability of functioning better than a younger one because both sides of the brain begin to work together when we hit middle age.

At this point, my brain is feeling a little inferior and insecure, but I read on.

The article explained that the brain has 100 billion neurons which can produce hundreds or thousands of dendrites that conduct impulses to other cells. This means the brain has the capacity for more than one trillion cell-to-cell connections with the capacity increasing with the amount we use our brains.

I knew there was a catch. It all comes down to "use it or lose it" which fits in the same category as abdominals and triceps.

Okay, if this is all true, why can’t I remember to take my vitamins two days in a row? Why can’t I remember people’s names when I’ve known them for years? Why do I have to make midnight trips to the post office to mail bills when the envelopes are sitting in plain sight for several days? Why can’t I remember important events in my children’s lives without having to post sticky notes all over the house? Why do my plants have to look sick before they get watered? Tell me why if my brain is supposed to be functioning so much better at middle-age.

The upside of this problem is that my apologizing skills have gotten much better. I have to apologize for forgetting things at work. I have to apologize to my children for forgetting things that are important. I have to apologize for forgetting names which brings me to my point.

I was in Hutchinson the other day sitting in a waiting room and someone said hello to me. After several questions and comments, I wanted to beat myself soundly about the head. I knew him. I knew his wife. I just couldn’t get it from my brain and out of my mouth. It totally drove me crazy.

Half way back to Medicine Lodge, it came straight out of my mouth just as free flowing as a waterfall.

I want to apologize to Glenn Newdigger and his wife Carrie, for my brain fog. Glenn was our Barber County Extension Agent a few years ago and I had even walked the lake with Carrie.

Since due to scientific research I can’t place the blame on my aging brain, I’ll use my backup reasons. My favorite, of course, is hormones. It is scientifically proven that memory and focus are affected by hormones. There has been a tidbit of stress in my life lately which could have contributed to the blankness. Wait, I know exactly what it was. I was consumed with anxiety of my upcoming annual mammogram which was only hours away. Now that is capable of "squeezing" any name right straight out of your head!

Now that the fog has lifted, it was good to see you Glenn and Carrie and I hope you are doing well and I promise that if I ever meet up with you guys in Hutchinson or anywhere else, I will greet you by name!!

Also, please do not only read the letter from Jean Rhea, but write the parole board and let them know that we don’t want a person that is capable of doing what he did to Jean on the streets in our state.

Also, my thanks to Motorcycle Mary. She made an uncomfortable subject enjoyable, informative and attainable. She should be mandatory for every young person starting out in life.

Also, have an excellent week!

Feel free to set the above words to your own mental music and use it anytime it seems to fit.

Because of my age and stage, I like to blame those times on hormones. If I’m happy, it’s because my hormones are happy. If I’m unhappy, I feel that it is my duty to warn those around me that my "unhappy hormones" are on a warpath.

Honestly, I know there are as many reasons as there are people in this world for those times you feel out of sorts.

One culprit is an unhealthy diet. If you don’t give your body what it needs to function properly, your brain is going to be one of the first parts of your body to start complaining and making you act weird.

Another reason is a sedentary life-style that never gives your "happy endorphins" a chance to kick in and express themselves.

Other reasons include relationships, health problems, the weather, the job, lack of sleep or several of these combined.

I think that as we get older, we become more affected by failed expectations.

For example, let’s compare a 50 year old to a 20 year old and see the difference. No I’m not talking about the results of gravity or any other physical characteristics.

I’m talking about the way the 20 year old is ready to take on life. They are willing to gamble when making decisions. Their expectations are that everything is going to turn out great no matter what.

A 50 year old has been there and done that and can tell the story about expectations and reality not mixing real well.

I wonder if there is more we can do to teach our children how to deal with failed expectations. How can we teach them to step back and regroup and take another road to get to their destination instead of wandering around lost and angry for the rest of their lives?

I have thought about this area a lot lately as my children are all in their twenties and dealing with all of the problems that early adulthood brings. I’ve not taught very well by example up to this point, but it’s never too late to try to do better.

I think it would make a major difference if we would become Accountable in Communicating our Expectations at an early age. We will call this the ACE method. This method should be used in every relationship, job, conversation and any other area that you have expectations in. Most of us could sit down and write out a long list of expectations that have fallen short. If we would take that list and honestly examine the differences that better communication would have made might prevent future failures.

We need to practice on effectively communicating our expectations to mates. How many women would admit to being mad at their men because the men didn’t help with the housework? When it doesn’t happen, women get really mad. The men are dumbfounded because they have no idea why their woman is psycho. A lot of this could be avoided if the woman would just communicate their expectations to the man. Then if the man doesn’t try to compromise in that area and the woman gets mad, he’ll at least know why!

This method should also be used with children. Children have to know what is expected of them and reminded of the consequences of not living up to reasonable expectations. Their goal is to push limits and boundaries, not to try to fit themselves into anyone’s expectations.

Accountability for communicating your expectations is also very important in your job. Remember that song, "Take This Job and Shove It"? I would bet that the writer of that song did not practice communicating effectively with his boss.

If you do not practice ACE, you will develop Resentments In Progress. We will call this result RIP.

Becoming resentful in any area of your life will make you angry, bitter and unhappy. Resentment will eat you alive. You will find yourself using all of your emotional energy in thinking of ways to get even instead of just enjoying being alive.

If we try to incorporate ACE into our daily lives maybe it will reduce the number of RIPs and then we can sing a little 60’s ditty.

Also, I walk the Barber County Lake nearly every evening whether it is hot, cold, raining, snowing, blowing or perfect. Last Thursday night was cold with snow and sleet in the air. Steam was rolling off of the lake and disappearing over the freshly graded roads and recently mowed grass. It was awesome. Watching the beauty of the seasons as they change makes me happy. Seeing trash, vandalism and destruction makes me angry. No matter the weather, I always finish my walk feeling better than when I began. The Lake is an asset to Medicine Lodge and one that needs to be well taken care of. Kudos to the City workers. They consistently maintain the Lake and keep it a beautiful place for everyone to enjoy.

Also, thanks to the National Gypsum Company for an evening of good food, music and great conversation.

Also, have an excellent week!

Along with the arrival of spring is Easter. I start getting ready for our Easter egg hunt several weeks early because it is quite time consuming. I put a few hundred dollars worth of silver, gold and paper money in several hundred eggs and our children and their significant others lose their inhibitions and adult behavior in the quest for the most money and eggs.

We began this "serious" Easter egg hunt ten years ago with several things in mind. All of the kids were struggling with college or other expenses related to moving into adulthood. It was a way to help them out while having a good time with the family. They were also spreading out in all directions and were getting increasingly busy in their lives. This is a good thing because that is what we raise our children to do, but sometimes it is so fantastic to just get them all together and enjoy the chaos.

You will find that putting a bunch of money into a bunch of eggs will be an incentive to bring your children home. No matter how much money is in those eggs, the entertainment value of watching your grown children fighting over plastic eggs is worth every penny.

There are highlights of every Easter egg hunt that we continue to laugh about through the years. Not that Mandy means to, but she has been the main character in many of those highlights. Raymond videos each hunt and we are all quite content to watch the videos over and over, laughing just as hard no matter how many times we have seen it.

There are those whom seem to be a little "luckier" than others and each year the salt is rubbed into the wound and the fight is on.

Julie seems to have had a problem over the years in accumulating the most eggs or the most money. She’s pretty excited about this year’s hunt as one sister just had a baby and the other one is pregnant. I’m curious about how she plans on dealing with all of the male hunters and their caveman tactics. Last Easter was Jami’s first hunt with the family and I could tell she felt a little overwhelmed. I’m betting she will show a lot more aggression this year.

They have all moved away from the years of a steady diet of ramen noodles and scraping pennies to get by. Now it’s the thrill of the hunt, the fun of being together, something to look forward to, a family tradition.

We all have a right to our opinions and finding what works for us. This is something that works for our family. Is that all that Easter means to us? Do we not know the real meaning of Easter? No and yes.

You may find it surprising after my description of our family tradition that when I hear the word Easter, the first thought that pops into my mind is the resurrection of Jesus.

I went to church as a child and learned many of the stories in the Bible from Adam and Eve through to the hard to understand Revelation and I believed.

As a teenager, I knew way too much about life to believe the stories in the Bible. I definitely knew that if any of that ever happened so long ago, it had nothing to do with me and my life. I refused to deal with anything I could not see, feel or hear.

Then real life crept in and became overwhelming. There were the bills, the kids and all of the rest of life’s problems. Realization hit me that I was pretty naive about life and I had better find some sort of floatation device to cling to or I was going to drown.

I found my faith. I found God was there to hold my head above water and if I did start to drown, it was because I let go of Him.

I can’t walk on water, definitely no halo, I do and say things that are wrong every single day of the year, my church attendance has dropped off to almost nothing, but I do know Jesus.

I thank Him for my family, for the warmth of the sun, for help to do better in my life, for being so good to me.

I pray for my children and the trauma and drama going on around me. I pray hard during bad storms and fire sirens. I pray that God will help the family of each and every soldier when I hear that another one has died. Who better to help them than one who understands and has been there?

He’s in my heart, in my head and I know I would do a whole lot worse if He wasn’t there. I know that there is a Heaven and a Hell and without Jesus, without the Easter Story of His death on the cross and His resurrection from the grave, Hell would be my destination.

I was having a heated discussion concerning this issue one day with a guy and he was good. I just couldn’t keep up. He was basically saying there was no God. He recognized Jesus walked the earth, but only as a prophet. He could have made a dog believe he was a cat. I wanted out of the discussion and told him that everybody was going to die so I figured that it was an event we needed to do some serious pre-planning for. If I was wrong, oh well. If he was wrong, he was going to be in big trouble. The discussion was over.

I was taught the Easter Story when I was child. My children were taught the Easter Story when they were young. I hope and pray they teach their children the Easter Story.

Without the Easter Story there would be no grace and mercy and without grace and mercy, we would all be in serious trouble.

The Easter story is a story to celebrate and be thankful for every day of the year. I’m also thankful for the opportunity to have all of our family home for a weekend of fun and togetherness.

Isn’t spring such a great time of the year?

Also, please don’t forget to vote!

Also, time to start getting things together for the city wide clean up on April 16 through 20. It is so much better to put a little time and thought into what’s going out to the curb than rushing things out when you hear the trash truck coming.

Also, have an excellent week!

Spring is officially here. Trees are turning green, flowers are blooming, birds are singing, the winds are warmer and I have swallowed my first bug at the Barber County Lake.

Swallowing a bug sounds gross, well it is gross, but it comes with the warmer seasons. It’s not so bad if you control your mind and hope that the bug you just swallowed is an undiscovered cure for various illnesses and is actually good for you. That may sound silly but if you have a bug in your throat and it’s going to be easier to get it down than to bring it up, it’s best to have your mind on something silly and just swallow.

This fits into the sayings of, "you have to take the good with the bad" and "you have to take the bitter with the sweet".

Most everything that is positive in life has some negatives.

Take for instance, owning a house. When something breaks down, you have to fix it. You can’t just call the landlord and expect it to be fixed within hours. Along with the repairs, there are the taxes, lawn maintenance and a variety of other chores to maintain the condition of your home.

Owning a car includes payments, repairs, insurance and tags.

Having friends will drive you crazy when they don’t take your wise advice when you tell them exactly what they need to do to make their life perfect.

Parenthood has a multitude of negatives that any parent you talk to on the street can share. If a parent sings a song of bliss, they have some denial issues going on.

Your job can be stressful not only during your working hours, but may follow you home and haunt you while you are off the clock.

A relationship with your significant other can be bewildering and frustrating when your mate will not do what you feel is the right thing to do.

Pets disrupt your life. They shed and if they have claws, they can change the appearance of your furniture.

When we hit the big time, our year is marked by the due date to pay our income taxes followed shortly by our property taxes. Some place in there is when our tags are due on our vehicles while preparing for the second half of our property taxes right before you get hit by the deluge of holiday shopping.

If you concentrate on all of these negatives, life becomes pretty depressing and totally out of control.

Then again, we can thank God for our homes when we look at the rows of homeless people lined up seeking shelter from the sweltering heat or the freezing cold. Have you ever seen the expressions on the faces of a family as they watch their home burn? It is hard to comprehend the despair of people on the film clips on TV that are searching through the rubble of their homes after a hurricane or tornado for something familiar, something to salvage.

We can be grateful for our vehicles when we decide a road trip is needed to clear our minds of the day to day stress or we decide we need to experience the atmosphere of a mall. We take our vehicles for granted until we turn the key and nothing happens. I have been in this situation many times and I must confess that I have done some of my best praying at these times.

It doesn’t take much loneliness before we appreciate and value our friends. One of the best things in the whole world is having a friend who understands you and accepts you just the way you are. Having somebody you can talk to about things that are painful, embarrassing or just plain stupid is a humongous asset in life.

Watching our children become caring, responsible adults fills us with love and pride and make all of the rough times pretty much worth it. Watching our children become parents and knowing payback time is near is an enjoyable experience. It is a double blessing as we get to enjoy our grandchildren at the same time.

Hearing stories about layoffs that put hundreds of people out of work should make a person feel so blessed to have a job to go to.

Seeing the agonizing grief of the man or woman who just lost their mate can make the shortcomings of the one you share your life with look pretty insignificant.

A pet loves you no matter what you look like, whether you’ve gained a few pounds or you’re just having a grumpy day. Pets show us by example what unconditional love is all about.

It has to do with "seeing the glass half empty or half full". It is how we focus on each area in our life and how we decide to view it that will make the difference.

I’ll take the bugs (preferably not in my mouth) and the scary storms of spring just to feel the sun, the balmy breezes and the enjoyment of spending more time outside. The smell of spring cannot be captured in a bottled fragrance. It cannot be described, only experienced. It is an exciting time of rebirth, of hope, of good things to come. (Which by the way, we have another "pregnant one" that is starting on her journey into parenthood. Andrea and Ryan will begin experiencing those joys come November.)

When Julia was in Iraq and was going through some rough times, I felt helpless not knowing how to encourage or comfort her. The best thing I could think of to say to her (besides all of the other things a mother says to her daughter) was to tell her to find at least one thing of pleasure each day and concentrate on that.

Sometimes it takes a lot of effort, but happiness is worth the work.

Also, put voting down on your "to do" list for April 3.

Also, DeGeer is spelled with a BIG "G" not a little "g" like we had in the paper last week. Charlie feels the big "G" is what separates him from the little guys. All of this time I thought it was his personality.

Also, have an excellent week!

The "pregnant one" is no longer pregnant. Mandy and Joey became parents and Michael Ray became brother of Marie Raelene Tuttle on March 8, 2007. She weighed 7 pounds and 12 ounces and was 19 inches long.

It was a long day. She went in to labor about 2:30 in the morning and Marie was delivered at 7:14 in the evening.

I know what you guys are thinking. You are going to stop reading this if I start to get real graphic with the details. You can go out and shoot and kill animals and birds and gut them out and chop them up without any problems at all. You can cut things off the male cows and granted, you can provide a meal of calf fries, but I’m sorry, that is gross.

Once a good labor and delivery story gets going, you guys get fidgety and you start looking for the closest exit. You think estrogen is hard to understand!

Okay, I’m not going in to details as I would like to keep a good relationship with my daughter, but the result of that day is a beautiful baby girl.

I spent several days with them and it is amazing how quickly you can fall in love with a tiny human being. It is so easy to sit and hold a baby and enjoy their smell, their exaggerated stretches and the expressions that come and go so quickly on their face.

Holding Marie brought back all of the times of holding my newborn babies and the engulfing feelings of love that overwhelm the senses. That maternal thing crept in and made me long for those days of holding my own baby and made me wish I could turn back the time.

Then, bammmm, the first tidal wave of reality hit me. Babies come with a huge price tag connected to their little bodies. Not just financially, which in itself can be staggering, but in every other way.

Loving your child is all about responsibility, dependability and being consistent through the child’s life.

The responsibility in raising a child is incredible. The decisions for another life are yours to make. You are responsible for their physical health, dental health, mental health, emotional health and spiritual health. At the same time, you must be concerned about those areas in your life so you can teach by example.

The baby depends on the parents from their first cry to do what is best for them. This will change the parent’s entire life. The child will have an issue with trust without parents they can depend upon.

One of the hardest things to do is to be consistent. No matter how rough your day is, the child needs routine, loving discipline and a scheduled bedtime.

Smack, the next wave of real life came flooding in when I started thinking about how many loads of laundry one child can create. It is unbelievable how big of mess one child can make if left unattended for more than ten seconds. Keeping your house baby proof to avoid accidents and poisonings is a must with a baby in the house.

Whack, another wave hit as I remember the days and nights without sleep because of a sick or fussy baby. There were days the majority of my nutritional intake came from eating the leftovers from the children’s plates on the way to the sink. My only chance I had to have time alone was an occasional quick trip to the bathroom. Most of the time this alone time lasted no longer than a couple of minutes as the children banged on the door needing my direct attention immediately.

Thump, the next wave finished it off. Years and years of being the bad guy and saying "no" more times than there are stars in the sky is not an easy role to step in to. The many sleepless nights spent worrying over situations and seeking the right decision. Struggling to stay one step ahead to find out years later you were several steps behind nearly the whole time.

Would I trade in my hot flashes for the nausea of pregnancy? No (that was loud with emphasis on the "n" and the "o")!

I am proud of Mandy. The doctor didn’t think she could deliver the baby and she did a fantastic job. I am proud of Joey. He got the education that all first time daddies in the delivery room gets and came through with flying colors. I am proud of the rest of my children, driving after a long day of work to be there for their sister.

I won’t brag about myself. I have a terrible habit of getting "funny" when I am really stressed out and I was stressed. Funny is good when you are in an appropriate place at the appropriate time, but a labor room is neither. Watching my child in so much pain and not being able to do anything to lessen that pain was almost unbearable. At the same time, I would never trade the emotional roller coaster ride of the labor and delivery of Michael Ray and Marie for any amount of money in the world. Being fortunate enough to be able to watch them take their first breath, hear their first cries and seeing their red tiny bodies for the first time is an awe-inspiring experience, an up close eyewitness account of an amazing miracle.

Much of the day was a blur of sessions of breathing with Mandy and talking to the rest of my children as they gathered at the hospital forming a nervous cheering section. Interspersed with checking on Grandpa and Michael Ray hoping they would stay out of trouble as they rode every elevator in the hospital several times and keeping track of Mandy’s progress, we were all relieved when she finally made it to a 10.

For some reason I can’t explain and evidently can’t control, I delivered several one liners before I loudly commented that about the only way most women ever become a "ten" is to have a baby. I laughed, but Mandy didn’t seem to find a bit of humor in it.

Estrogen is just so hard to understand sometimes!

Also, the forms are in the office to fill out on your child and their accomplishments. Give me a call if you can’t get by the office during the open hours and I’ll get one to you.

Also, spring begins this week, our reward for making it through another winter!

Also, have an excellent week!