Komo Mai Kahale

When hubby and I got married, he made a very profound statement. "It's you and me against the world." It is, too. He and I have been through alot in our 16 years of marriage. 16 years? Wow. I never wanted to get married or have kids, and look at me now. That'll teach me. One thing hubby and I have learned through all of those years is that we have to work on us. If we aren't communcating well, or if we're fighting more lately, it usually means we haven't been spending time on us.

We used to take time after the kids went to bed to get caught up. But when you've been going all day and most of the evening, the ol' brain seems to want sleep more than companionship. Did we ever fix that. We hang out at the chicken pants tree when hubby gets home. That's our special place we go to unwind before we deal with dinner and baths and all the evening chores. It gives me a break from the kids, him a break from working all day, and both of us a chance to regroup and spend some time working on us.

 One of the things we like to do at the annual county fair is go see the animals. The kids have always loved it and some of those little creatures are just cute. We have a special affinity for the chickens. We like the ones that look like they are wearing feathered pants, or, as we like to call them, chicken pants.The palm needs to be trimmed (I know how bad it looks). As you come up the driveway, it looks like it's wearing chicken pants. It is our haven. It hides us from prying eyes (there really aren't any, but still), it's shady and cool, and it's quiet. We can sit and talk and just be. Don't tell anyone, but sometimes when we're out there, we kiss. 

 There's my man sitting at the tree. Wish he was K-I-S-S-I-N-G me right now. Almost done with this.

 And a picture of me at the tree. There you go.

The title of the blog means welcome to my special place. Just don't plan on staying long. This is our chicken pants tree.

Lots to Say

But none of it is really important. It does however clear up some space in the old storage unit.

• Relationships are hard. Some days, I just don't want to work that hard on it. Is that bad? I have a close friend that I think I pissed off one day and I'm not sure she's over it. It was one day, it was a small thing, at least I thought it was. Maybe not. Or maybe I perceive a tension there that really isn't. But it hasn't been the same and I don't like it. Next time I see her, I'm asking her if I'm a moron or is she really mad. If she says I'm a moron and she's mad, I'll know things are going to be ok.
• I am a blog stalker. I like to read what other people are thinking. I have always been a people watcher. This is people watching, but in print. I linked to some blogs from a friend's blog and I got an idea of how the other side lives. I am amazed at what people will put on the internet and not think about the repercussions. I ran across a blog that told in explicit detail how a girl had lost her virginity. Then she linked to a blog about a different girl and how she had lost her virginity. Can nothing be personal anymore? Where did our standards go? I was blown away to hear their descriptions (yeah, you know I read them. How could I be objective when writing this blog if I didn't even know what they contained?) and how cold and impersonal it was. I also felt sorry for them. I was sorry that they went through what they did. I'm sorry it didn't mean more.
• I got my eyes checked today. It's official. I need bifocals. I ordered them today and they should be in soon. I do need to call them and make sure that the lenses are the right ones. There may have been a miscommunication in what I wanted. I have a super strong prescription so my lenses are thick. I don't want that. I did get contacts. I still need to get some reading glasses for when I wear them, but I can pick those up anywhere. 40 is the new 30, right?
• I had a friend tell me that she was not letting her daughter friend me because sometimes my posts aren't appropriate for children. Um, ok?!? I'm not on Facebook to have kids as friends, so I'm ok with that, but it still kinda hurt. A little. I think I might be over it by now. Maybe. Whatever.

That cleared up a little room. I have the feeling I need to get political in my next few posts. That always makes hubby nervous. Makes me giggle.

Where Everybody Knows My Name

There was a time when that meant a bar. Or a men's room. This time I mean the library. Shocking, I know. When we walk in, they call our names in greeting. Lately, I have really been in the mood to read. I rarely buy books. I would spend way too much money if I did. They take up too much room, and the library is the perfect place to keep them. They have all those shelves after all. I don't want a Kindle or Nook or whatever. I like to feel the warmth of a book, not the coolness of an electronic gadget. I do have the Kindle app on my iPod, but that is for desperate measures. You know, like when there isn't a library or store within miles and I have to read something right away.

I have found this button on the library website called "knowledge portal." Do you know what that is? It's a list of the new books and DVDs the library has added in the last few months. I get in so much trouble with that stupid thing. I sat last night on the computer and requested and requested. I started at the back this time. I started at page 1 last time and only got through about the first 10 pages. There are over 50 pages. By the time I got done last night, I had requested 20+ books. Some of them have huge waiting lists and I will probably not see my turn because of the move. But those I can request from our new library. Hopefully.

I have added 30 minute reading blocks to our school day so I can read. I scratch out a few minutes here and a few minutes there. I have read some really good books. I have started some really good books. Here are a few that have really stuck with me. Or at least made some kind of impression on me.

I have made no secret of the fact that I am having "church" issues. I don't agree with some of the decisions, hubby and I  have stepped off all the committees we were on and have been ostracized for it by some, we are paying people to help us become a church. Really? Sounds like your everyday family to me. We even stopped going for awhile. We needed to regroup so to speak. All of this plus the holiday wonkies really gave my faith a pummeling. I needed ro regroup. To do that, I read, or tried to read, a couple of different books. I read Jesus Freaks by DC Talk. Amazing to read about the power of God's love and the love that people have for Jesus. How can you not be touched? Some of the stories were a little hard to read. Cruelty is never easy to read about. But the depth of their faith was just astounding to me. It helped me retrace my path and firm up my desire to have a better, closer relationship with Jesus.

The other book I tried to read to help me was So You Don't Want to Go to Church? I started it but I couldn't get into it. That just means that right now is not the time. It is still on my list. I still want to read it. I'm just not ready yet. I'll get there one day.

Another book I read for book club is called The Help by Kathryn Sockett. It is about colored help in 1950's Jackson, Mississippi. That was a good book. It makes me leary of chocolate pie. The dynamics of the characters, the dynamics of the time and place all came together nicely. One of our book club members was raised like the book described. I missed book club and would have liked to hear her speak about it. It was funny, scary, and thrilling. It was a great book.

I just got done with Salting Roses. It was about a woman who finds out on her 25th birthday that she was kidnapped as a baby and is the heiress to a $650 million estate. Can you imagine? I can't. To make it worse, she finds out that the people that raised her are hiding secrets of their own. She was mad. I'd be mad, too. And the book that I am really waiting on is Still Missing by Chevy Stevens. It's about a real estate agent that is kidnapped from an open house and held captive for a year in an isolated cabin in the woods. It's told through her therapy sessions. It's fiction. I am working my way to some non-fiction. I just need to find something that interests me that's non-fictiony.

We're still schooling, and packing, and cleaning. But sometimes you just need to take a break and go far, far away. Speaking of which, there is a budding romance between a horse trainer and the sister of a blind man I need to attend to. It's also a great day to work on my tan. I think I'll combine them and read while I work on my tan.

Keepin' It Real

Every now and then I need to have a pity party. I throw the best parties!! Love to see people happy and smiling and having fun. Imagine what a spectacular event my pity parties are. One of my blogs I follow had a blog titled the same so I stole it. It's my party and I can plagarize if I want to. Here's my list:

• I am so worried about the move. I am worried that hubby will get an email that says we aren't going. I would be crushed. I want to go home for lots of reasons. But if this were all I had to worry about...
• I am not superwoman. Watching yet another debate about who has it worse, working moms that never get to spend time with their kids or stay at home moms that aren't living up to their potential. Get over it, everybody. The grass is greener wherever you want it to be greener. Nobody wins, end of story.
• Tired of being broke all the time, all the time, all the time. Then I say, "Oh, yeah, remember you just went to dinner last night. You probably shouldn't have done that." Then I say, "But we haven't eaten out in three weeks. I needed a break from the kitchen." Fought that fight before. Done fighting it. Change my ways or not. You never know with me.
• Stressed about a weekend long meeting at church. Isn't that pathetic? It's youth weekend with the company that has come to help us be a church. I asked hubby if he was coming. He quickly threw his hands up in a defensive motion and backed away slowly muttering something like, "I'd rather hear about the carnage than see it...". Well, shit.
• I get mad when people hijack my Facebook posts to sell their products. Send that person a private message, but get off my posts. You have your own page. 
• I hate whiners. You can do something about it or shut the hell up. Now that I've said that, I'm all done whining. 

Thanks for listening. It feels better to get that off my chest.