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 |  A JOURNEY THROUGH MY MIND: THE WORDGODDESS' BLOG |
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THIS IS A JOURNAL OF WHAT'S MAKING ME WRITE. WHAT I AM WRITING, AND ALL SORTS OF OTHER SCARY THINGS. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** PLEASE READ AT YOUR PLEASURE, AND PLEASE SIGN MY GUEST-BOOK WHILE YOU'RE HERE. SOME LUCKY VISITORS WILL RECEIVE SOME SPECIAL ATTENTION. "Invalid Item"  by A Guest Visitor ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** NOW, ENJOY. |
| So, here I am at a nearby friend's house checking e-mails. After spending three days getting the family moved, the message to "update you blog" in my inbox every day is trying. But, I must remember why I have it set to remind me in the first place. My blog is my baby and must be cared for as the rest of my babies; fed, nutured, attended to. I suppose some may say I have too many babies. Well, this may be true, but what to do now? Not giving 'em up, that's for sure! So for now my blog will have to be content with what ever attention it can get, much like my real babies, while I get us nice and settled in our new little nest. And I am not going to change the settings for the reminder to post in my blog everyday. Annoying as it may be, sometimes that is what it takes. "bug mom long enough and you'll get what you want" seems to work well at my house  |
Ok, well I am blessed everyday, but today I was rewarded for my efforts here at WDC. I received a beautiful green awardicon displayed here on my blog from the Bards hall contest by . I also received a golden ribbon to grace my group page for WDC MOMs. It is nice to know tha treaders and writers alike are enjoying my work and writing. Hopefully I have the sae success in the land of publications. I wrote my first querry letter today as an assignment in the PDG, and learned quite a bit I have found a new passion to write about in my freelance articles and would like to turn the into a regular column someday. I am also thinking of making a videography/ documentary to go along with my piece. As I put it together in its many forms and conduct interviews and go on tours, it is my goal to reveal the truth about American's eating habits and how they can be changed. An expose' of sorts, mixed with solutions to the problems I will disclose that you probably didn't know were there. The government agencies are bought and paid for by the food industry. This should be enlightening and perhaps even revelutionary for the American family. I will keep samples of the articles here in my blog, along with bibliographies and references. Be sure to check back soon and see how the project is going. I will be sending out surveys and polls to collect information regarding personal opinions on the topics at hand and will use pieces from members ports as supporting documents with permissions. This should be exciting and the beginning of my first serious freelance article/ column. Any and all advise is welcoe and needed. |
| By the number of times our family has moved, one might think that we were enlisted in the military or secret service or something, but the truth is that we're not.. In the past ten years I have moved our family for a multitude of reasons and opportunities. Having started our family in our early twenties, my husband and I were in all actuality just starting our adult lives and sharing them with our newborn daughter. We have since added three more members to our crew, and so our needs, among other things, have changed. We would find ourselves searching for the perfect apartment to raise two small girls in, sign a lease and a year or so later, it was time to expand and add a new room for a little brother. We would try to purchase a home in the country where we would spend quality time with our three little pigs, only to find out that we had been scammed and that we couldn't buy the house after all, and so back to the city we go. This time, we try again to purchase a home from an individual. A small, modest house in our hometown which turned out to be a nightmare from which we ran . We leased a house here and there, compensating for various needs, like schools, communities, and work. We attempted one last time to buy a house from an individual who was offering her home to save it from a foreclosure. She was severely delinquent in payments and we would bring her note current, pay her for the few thousand dollars she had in equity, and assume the payments on the note We handed over $15,000.00 in cash to her and presented her with contracts to sign. All was well and we had started renovations and modifications to update our new home which was stuck in an episode of 'that 70's show". We lived there peacefully for a year when we found out we would be adding one more member to our team. Everything seemed to be progressing nicely untiI I went to pay our property taxes and was told that the deed had never been transferred and that I didn't own the house and that I couldn't pay the taxes. As you can imagine, at 8 months pregnant with a construction crew setting up the new nursery in a house you don't own, I went ballistic. The woman who was suffering so much and needed to sell her house quickly had been lying. She couldn't sell the house to us because it wasn't in her name, it was in her husband's name and he was living in a nursing home and according to her "on his death bed". She had told us that she had a power of attorney and had access to all of their property, well guess what, she didn't. By the time we research all of the logistics and contact our lawyer, she had the property put into a trust and we couldn't touch her. With a baby due any day, we moved, once again. This time just down the street to a house that was for lease. We had our fourth child, our third daughter, that April. The day after Christmas that year we received notice that we would have to move out because the property was to be sold. So, only a year later, we pack everything up, and move to a wonderful home. It was huge. 5 bedrooms, a game room, two living rooms, three bathrooms. It was perfect, and expensive. But we could afford it at the time, we were at the top of our game. We signed a two year lease and found ourselves in our third year and perfectly happy. Until we found the MOLD! Our second daughter had been getting ill and even had to have surgery. A doctor suggested that her environment was causing her immune system to become compromised and that we needed to access her living conditions. We searched through the 3700 square foot home looking for leaks and stuff. we found the mold growing in a drainage pipe in the kids bathroom. we contacted the property manager and she contacted the owner. We immediately moved the kids out of their home and into their grandmother's house. We started to fight an unwinnable battle with insurance companies, property managers, and lawyers. We opted for the sanity of our family to quit fighting for them to fix our home and to just leave. It was only weeks before school was to start, we were all devastated to leave our schools. I was on the PTA board at two of my kids schools and now I had to resign. The girls had to quit cheer-leading, and my son really missed his playmates. We were literally homeless for a few weeks. With the pressing issue of time and school, we took the first house we could find that would fit us financially, and physicly. We moved to a smaller town just outside of where we were living. It is a nice community and we love our neighbors. We have been here nearly a year now and it's just starting to feel like home. Well, guess what? This house has a nightmare too. This time the property has been caught up in a huge ponzy scheme with another 200 properties across the state of Texas. Because the property has been siezed by the courts, it has been signed over to a recievership, who's job it is is to access the value and sell the property. So, what does this all really mean for my family? Nothing. All it really means is that we have to pack everything up and find a new home, only a year later. As a child my family never moved. I hated it. I used to dream about living in a new town, a new school, new friends. I wanted change. Well I suppose I have been making up for it as an adult. now I dream of having a house that will stay my family's home for years and years. A place where memories are born and captured. The comfort of familiar surroundings. It is funny how dreams can change so much. |
| You know, I realize that life is full of ups and downs, OK? You have to take the hits to with the misses. Well, I just keep gettin' hit! Only 9 months after a disasterous and emotional emergency move from our families home, it istime to do it again. I received a letter from my property management company informing me that the owner's deceded to sell the property we are residing in. This is all fine and dandy except...The house was involved in on of TExas's biggest ponzy schemes ever! The house is owned by a bank and it is in foreclosure on the rightful owners, who had believed that they had sold it to an investment company. A real mess through and through. So here I go again, house hunting, applying, packing, cleaning, and then the dreadful moving day. The children are upset about the possibility of moving to new schools AGAIN! I just finished unpacking the last of the boxes from the garage just last month, and here I am repacking them. I swear I just can't get a break. It is always one disastaster or another. I wish that I could have a year of nothing. Just a long, boring year with nothing to do. No emergensies, surguries, deaths, moves, injuries, illnesses, just a normal, quiet year. I have had enough drama to last a lifetime. |
| Today I mourn the loss of my paternal grandmother. Only a little over a month after her 88th birthday, she is finally at peace. Although it is never easy to let someone go, it is easier when you know that they were ready. Ready to part with this life and move on to whatever rests before them. Knowing that she has finally been reunited with her hsband of 60 years, and not to mention the countless friends and family who were waitng for her. The past 5 years she spent wishing for this moment, never really living, just existing, waiting and praying for her time to come. Today her prayers were answered and she will no longer have to wait. She will no longer spend every moment in pain and despair. I will miss my grandma, we were so close, but now it is my turn to wait. To wait to see them both again. Until then I will try to live my life the best I can and to be thankful for every moment i had with her. Thankfull that my children, her great grand children, knew her and loved her. This is priceless and I was truly blessed. Rest In Peace Grandma Muriel, I love you and will wait to see you again. |
| Many people take for granted the beauty of dinner time. Not in our house. Dinnertime seems to be a sacred event in our home. The six of us join around our dining room table to a freshly prepared, organic, wholesome meal on a nightly basis. Tonight, lamb chops, brown rice, broccoli and cauliflower, and a perfectly made Greek salad complete with feta. We share stories, tell jokes, discuss politics and the happenings of the world. The children share their days with us, excited about this or that. This is something that we don't take lightly. The Johnstons ALWAYS have dinner together. That is just the rule. Sure, there are occasions when someone is busy and away from home at supper time, but 90% of the time you find all 6 of us plus a guest gathered around our table come 7 o'clock pm. It is our time. Just as depicted in an old Norman Rockwell painting, we gather nightly, not only to eat , and boy do we eat, but to live. To share. Too many families today suffer from the lack of this simple interaction. Unstimulated, families will wither away, break apart. Dinnertime holds a family together, besides, we all have to eat. Imagine, if you will, the nation as one gathered around their dinner tables. Every American family, mother, father, sister, brother, sitting besides each other to share the final meal of the day. The family feast. What makes this even better is when the family is involved in the preparation of the said feast, as well its consumption. When a family pitches in to make a meal happen, it takes on a new flavor, a more appreciated delicacy than say, something you pop in the microwave and ingest while gazing aimlessly into some fictitious life being portrayed on the idiot box. No, that is not dinner time. That is not what Norman had in mind at all. American families are lacking the benefits of the traditional family 'dinner time'. I am talking June friggin' Cleaver, here. This time spent together during a meal is so much more valuable than any "value meal" you can buy. Children crave the closeness and attention that comes from sharing a meal. There are precious values to be learned at the dinner table. It goes beyond the obvious, "please" and "thank you's". Children can learn eating habits, manners, conversational skills, patience, time management, home economics, nutrition and health habits and many others. In this busy world of cyber this and that, it is so easy for time become your ball and chain. We are tempted by fast options for a busy schedule. This is part of the problem. American's must return to the dinner table. They must make time to eat together on a regular basis. And if you can throw in eating a healthy home cooked meal where each family member pitches in, then more power to ya! By sharing a meal, I refer to the process by which that meal becomes a reality. The shopping, the deciding 'what' to eat, the preparing, the cooking, the setting of the table, the serving, the cleaning, the whole kit and caboodle. There are plenty of opportunities to pitch in and give a hand when it come to dinnertime. Not that every night is perfect, oh no. There are nights when I wish I could run away. Someone is fighting with someone else, someone took the last of something, someone looked at someone the wrong way. Emotions are high when people are around food, their guards go up. They become defensive and are up-set easily. But finding that balance between chaos and tranquility can be found at the dinner table. Especially if the food is good. If everyone is busy eating and moaning sounds of approval, they will be less likely to misinterpret a look from their siblings as combative. This isn't just an important part of American culture, It is an important part of Human nature. |
| Do you ever get the feeling that your life is like carnival ride that never stops for you to get off? Well obviously I do, right? Time just keeps moving and the world just keeps turning and everyone just keeps doin' the same. Well, sometimes I just wish I could jump off, break free, not permanently, but just for a minute. Long enough to catch my breath and stop spinning. Just long enough to catch up with my place in life again. 'back on track" might seem too cliche', but it fits. Then I realize that life's ride never stops. There are no breaks. You ride till you die, and that's when it ends. It seems as though the ride does get faster the longer you are on it. When we are young, the ride is slow and easy and fun. As we get older though, the ride picks up speed and makes sudden turns and quick drops. Never really being able to see what's coming next, the ride keeps you guessing. There are moments of calm stretches of track, and those are nice. Taking in the passing scenery like when you were a kid. But these are often short-lived and are quickly interrupted by a gut wrenching down-ward spiral into a dark tunnel. Flashes of white light pass before your eyes like a film projector at the movies end. You hold your breath and pray to god you will make it out alive. You hold on, waiting for the next calm stretch. At moments like that you may wish the ride would end. You may even try to stop it. But you remember you're not alone on this ride. There are other's riding with you. They are relying on you to hod their hands when they get scared. And the will get scared. You hang on and keep riding. Trying to catch a glimpse of the world as it passes by. Staring far into the horizon for something exciting to see. This is an amazing ride with many different routes and tracks. No one knows how long their ride will last or who will be riding with them. You just know that you have to ride it until it ends. |
Here lately, I have been experimenting with my darker side in writing. Inspired by my husband, a gothic horror writer, I have surprised myself at just how dark I can be. When I began writing here, we had a discussion about castles. I asked him to describe the castle in his imagination, which he did with horrific detail, complete with fire and brimstone. His castle was dark, old, decrepit. I could smell the dank, sour odor and hear the enormous chain pulling up the drawbridge. He did a great job getting me to see his castle, but I remember being so shocked. That is not what my castle looks like. My castle is bright and it looks lavender in color against the sunlight. It is perched high on a green rolling hill with flags waving in the morning air. White towers with windows overlook the moat surrounding the grounds. The sound of trumpeting music fills the air. The difference in castles is staggering. His being so dark, mine being so not. As I sat to write a dark poem, I thought about his castle, the dark walls scantly lit by dying candle light. I put myself in his castle as I thought of what creepy thing to write about. Blood chilling thoughts quickly conjured up in my head, images of helplessness and despair. This was out of character for me and certainly out of my pink castle where my unicorn was waiting for me. I enjoyed my visit to his gloomy castle, and composed several good winning pieces while I was there, but I miss my happy castle. My palace on the hill where my dreams come true and love lasts forever. This is where I belong. I will visit my husband's evil castle again when the time is right. Just as soon as I need another spooky idea or frightening character, but until then, my castle is my home. |
| Too tired to write. too tired tonight. Can't write tonight. Too tired to write. |
| Ashley had her post op visit with her surgeon this afternoon. She is doing wonderfully well. The pathology reports came back and Ashley does not have any form of cancer, it's not even a tumor. The official title is "xanthogranuloma". Which is by definition: a tumor or nodule of granulation tissue containing lipid deposits. An infiltration of retroperitoneal tissue by lipid macrophages, usually occurring in women Apparently it is extremely rare for these to occur on the spine. Only one reported case can be found on-line. They are usually small yellowish pimples on the skn. So, the good news is that there is no cancer! The weird thing is that we don't know if it will come back. She will be under a close eye for a while until we have some more concrete answers. Not such a bad deal....{/dont} |
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But I am contented with my job. I love it there so I'm ok. 
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