Emotions Like Waves

This weekend I prepared my “Nest Room” as I’m calling it. I found this sweet sign at Hobby Lobby and knew that it belonged in the room my foster children will be staying in. I hung the sign, repainted a dresser (using sweet white rose knobs I found off Amazon), arranged my furniture, made the bed, and organized the abundance of books, toys, and craft supplies that have been gifted to me by loved ones.

Today I went in to the DCBS office to review and sign off on the 10 page case summary that my R&C worker typed up and submitted after I left. Three things struck me as humorous when reviewing the case summary. 1) She referred to me as having a curvy, rounded figure who was naturally beautiful. Yes, she is my new best friend. 2) She stated that when working I dress professionally, and when home I dress “casually but simply.” She should get major props for so beautifully describing “slob” for my at-home attire. 3) She described my home as “warm and welcoming” and “decorated with an eccentric touch and many handcrafted paintings.” (In truth, her description of my home was so sweet and beautiful I struggled not to tear up.... her perspective is just as I would like to portray my home. Knowing I have been successful warmed my heart!)

Both this weekend while preparing my room and today while reviewing my case summary, I have been overcome with emotions. Emotions that ebb and flow as the waves of the ocean... coming and going constantly. If you follow me on Instagram, you will have seen my post already, but I want to restate something here...

The emotional battle is real. One minute I’m fine, the next completely overwhelmed.

I feel excitement about all the things I’ve been looking forward to... craft making, board games, kid movies, outings, birthday parties, and donut stops before church!

I feel anticipation. It’s as if I’ve been waiting for this for years... I’ve always thought about fostering, and since first calling and inquiring about classes in February the process has felt so long. Five months seems so long at this point!

I feel grief over the life experience that will require a sweet flower to have to come and stay with me for a while. While this is a dream I’m getting to live out it is a time of separation or abandonement, trauma and fear, discouragement and distrust for the small one entering my home. At times I feel guilty for my joy over this journey. I’m constantly reminding myself that I have been put in this position to bring warmth, security, comfort, safety, and joy to others that need it. And it’s okay for me to find delight in that. I grieve the precipitating events/situations and am elated to participate in the healing that follows.

I feel nervous, that I’m not ready or prepared enough to take on this responsibility. I’ve mentioned it before, this is a radical shift for me. I’m fully aware of the blissfully independent, isolative, and (knowingly) lazy life style I’ve been living for the past 6 years. It’s possible that I’m using the term “nervous” when really I mean “fear” of the adjustment period.

I feel confidence and gratitude, considering the ridiculous amount of love and support that I’ve found through this process in my family, friends, and most of all in my coworkers. It was a coworker who first challenged me to consider why I wasn’t fostering at this stage in my life when I had worked so hard to  convince myself I wasn’t ready. It was my CEO and Supervisor who encouraged me to sign up for classes. It was a best friend/co-worker and a very close friend/neighbor who threw me a baby shower several weeks ago. It was an entire group of coworkers that presented me with a $500 gift card to Walmart at said shower. It has been these same coworkers who have showered me with craft supplies, children’s books, hair bows, and toys. I have not had one negative word spoken over me since I voiced my intent to be a foster parent this year. That is incredible to say and most certainly adds to my confidence and sense of security.

Finally, I feel comforted. I find rest and peace in the knowledge that Sweet King Jesus is watching over this whole process and wants to have His way in it. I am not alone. I have a supernatural support. Need some parental advice? I’ll speak to the father of millions. He knows a thing or two about raising kids. Need some encouragement? I’ll speak to the author of my dreams, who wrote these desires on my heart by hand. Need someone to vent to? I’ll call my mom. Just kidding! (Not really, but keep reading anyway.) I’ll speak to the one who knows not only my thoughts, my heart, and my situation... but will be the One most intimately aquainted with the sweet soul I’ll be housing. There is no better resource than this.

There are many emotions being felt here at Shady Corner. And many more to come.

If you are reading this, dear friend, please continue to pray for me. Pray for my ocean of emotions to be calmed. Pray for my mind and heart to be prepared for this first placement. Pray for the child and this difficult transition. Pray for the parents/care-givers, the workers, the judges, the lawyers, and everyone involved. I plan on eventually listing some specifics that can be prayed over, if you are so inclined. But for now I just ask that you pray. That is more than enough.

“Prayer should be our first response, not our last resort.” —Rachel Wojo

Change is Coming...

Disclaimer: I am not a gifted writer. I am more disorganized in thought and speech than ever before, and make no attempt to hide it. That being said, I still want to share my thoughts and experiences and am making a commitment to writing a blog update once per month. So here we go!

I’m 29 and single. I often joke that the only thing I do with my spare time is sit on the couch, eat Doritos, and watch too many episodes of Frasier and the Golden Girls. While I joke about this, it’s also true. I work hard during the day, and veg out even harder when I come home. To be honest, I have some habits that need to change. I stopped going to church a couple years ago. Work was chaotic, busy, draining, and I simply didn’t have the energy to walk through the doorway of my home on the weekends into a public place. I didn’t want to make plans, sit awkwardly through forced chit chat, or hear another person tell me that I needed to quit my job and find a new one. Things have drastically changed since that time in my life, things are a lot better at work and I’m not constantly exhausted. But I haven’t gotten back in church. I know I need to, I know where I will be going, and I know that I need to make it happen. How I spend my time off of work is another habit that drastically needs to change. I need to be more productive and more creative. I should use my time to better myself or others, but I don’t. I rest, and I have claimed that is enough. 

Well, things are about to forcefully change and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Next week I should be approved as a licensed foster parent for the Department of Community Based Services in the state of Kentucky. I will be opening my home to girls between the ages of 5-10, offering a warm and safe place whenever it is needed. I’ve known for a long time that this is something I wanted to do, but I’ve always had too many excuses for why I shouldn’t. 

My job is too consuming. 

I’m single. 

I rent. 

I have student loans I’ll be paying on for eternity. 

The list goes on and on... 

Earlier this year while sitting at lunch with a friend she asked me why I wasn’t already fostering. I listed those well versed excuses and was caught off guard with her challenge of “Well, aren’t these all things you would be self-sacrificing for if you were to start your own family anyways?” It was like a slap in the face. I have always planned on getting married and having kids. That hasn’t happened and may not, but if it were... then yes! I would still start a family despite my job, despite renting, despite my student loan debt, etc. So why not now? That one question opened my eyes to the foolishness of my excuses, and the reality of this: If not now then when? 

The next week I called a social worker and signed up for the next round of training classes. Six weeks of classes, five hours of online trainings, mounds of paperwork, three home studies, and a lot of anticipation later... I’m done! I can be ready to have a kid within a matter of 1-2 weeks. Days, really. 

This new chapter is going to change a lot for me. My entire daily life will be shaken. When I wake up, cooking and meal prepping, efficiency at work (to get off at a decent time), coming home and putting more effort into keeping my home tidy (because we all know kids make some fantastic messes), free time, self-care, overall busyness... all of this is going to change. And I can’t wait! I need to be challenged. I need to focus on something outside of work and myself. What better way to do so than to open my home to a kid that needs a warm and safe environment for the time being.

Will it be hard? Obviously. I can’t even tell you how many times I have heard “I could never do that... I would get way too attached.” Or, “Savannah! Are you sure that’s a good idea for you? I don’t think you can handle the goodbyes....” And in some ways, they are right. I WILL get too attached. I probably WONT handle the goodbyes very well. It’s going to be incredibly challenging, difficult, and heart-wrenching. But I’m ready. I’m ready to use my time and my home to better the life of someone else. I’m excited about the opportunity to work with kids outside of the professional role in my workplace. I want to be there for the good and the bad for a kid that needs someone. I want to be the one that healthy and attached relationships are formed with. I want to hold hands, give hugs, and wipe away tears on difficult days. I want to play games, go on fun outings, do craft projects, and watch Moana 100 times a day. I want to argue about how we’ve already had chicken nuggets too many times this week to cook them again. I want to work on Life Books, go to treatment team meetings, work on loving and supporting biological parents in getting their kids back home safely, and see kids reunified with family members. I want this experience, both the good and the bad. 

If you know me at all, you know change is difficult for me. (Difficult, not impossible.) Once, I changed offices at work (same hallway, seven doors down) and had to leave my desk in the old office. I swear, I grieved for three weeks over that old desk. It’s ridiculous, I know. What can I say? I am the way I am. Ha! Don’t worry, I am not disillusioned to how hard this will be for me. The adjustment to a new life in my house, the responsibilities that accompany it, the certain heart-ache that will come with separations and goodbyes are all things I am doing my best to mentally prepare for. But I am ready, I am willing, and I am grateful for this opportunity. It’s happening. And that’s all there is to it.

9 years ago when this blog was first created, I never thought I would be sitting here praying for and writing about the sweet little flowers that are soon to enter my home. Yet here we are.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” - Dr. Seuss

No Strings Attached

I am currently reading the book "Blue Like Jazz" by Donald Miller, and after only 7 chapters in I have cried twice. This little bit of time has been a revealing soul search, let me tell you! Literally.

What he has written about so far has been simple, yet profound (great book review, right!? Amazon top verified reviewer, here I come!). Seriously though, it is bringing an awareness to my hidden (and ignored) insecurities. I didn't even realize until tonight that I have slipped back into the insecurity of believing that Jesus doesn't like me. That He wouldn't like me if He "really met me." (As if He doesn't know me already, *insert eye roll* but you get the point.) I am able to depersonalize it and delude myself into thinking I haven't exposed myself, my true self, to Jesus since He isn't actually here in person. And along with this delusion comes the belief that I would never be His choice. The lie that I'm not chosen. The picture of being lost in a crowd of other "unwanted ones", a root for my struggle with loneliness.

In his book, Miller writes "Self-discipline will never make us feel righteous or clean; accepting God's love will." Ouch. I was writing all this in my journal tonight and decided to look back at my last entry. Of course, it's about earning my righteousness and by being disciplined. I have ALWAYS had the mentality of "I just need discipline to fix my life." I never think of it as a bad thing either, because in it I am acknowledging that the source of all I need is found in God. I just go about it the wrong way and depend on the wrong things. Instead of simply (and I do mean "simply") placing my trust in Him, I make a check list. My confidence comes from incorrectly trusting myself to fulfill my newly written goals - thus earning what I am seeking.

"If I go to church more regularly... I won't be so lost in what I am supposed to be doing with my life."
"If I read my Bible more... I'll be more willing to love."
"If I spend 20 minutes in prayer before work every day... I won't spend the whole day complaining."

All those things are good, and they place me in the position of being closer to God and more attune to to His will... but are they the actual source? No.
My receiving that joy, contentment, wisdom, compassion, etc., has become to me a reward of having perfect discipline. And the mentality that without perfect discipline, I will never be fulfilled.

I don't accept what is freely given.

Are all those things that I mentioned good and godly? Yup. Will they light a fire in me to pursue Him even more, and to build the desire to obey His will? Yes. But do I have to depend on MY efforts, MY work, MY accomplishments to save me from a life of loneliness and emptiness? Never.

Typically though, it is beyond my thinking to imagine receiving those things mentioned without first proving myself worthy, proving myself "like-able" through completing those tasks. I struggle so much with the fear of not being lovable. I fear I can never make another close friend. I fear that I am too "__insert disdainful word here__" to be invited to a gathering. I fear being forgotten. I fear that my best friends will never love me as much as I love them. That I will never be valued by anyone other than my mom and aunt (there is no doubt of their love, they don't allow it.) My best friend recently posted a status on Facebook where, after she commented that she was craving pancakes, her husband made her cinnamon pancakes, freshly made blueberry topping, and homemade whipped cream. I caught myself wondering if someone would ever want to do something like that for me on a regular basis - and found that I can't really picture it. Now, do not get me wrong and take me for being ungrateful. I have wonderful family and friends that do many sweet and generous things for me. My mom loves me more than anyone in the world. But other than receiving the occasional gift and being a temporary house guest in the home of a highly hospitable person, I can't picture someone serving me without the expectation of return. Usually I feel that I give the gifts, I bake the food, I take the time. I can't picture a marriage where we serve each other as equally and willingly. Is this being selfish? Undoubtedly. Don't think I don't recognize this. It is still a place where I struggle in my insecurity of fear of being unlovable, and a left-over choice.

It's the same in my relationship with Jesus. I forget that He gives without a request alongside it. That He wants to give me good things when I have been ugly.

I want to accept God's grace without trying to earn it. I want to be forgiven for my ugly, selfish, dark heart - without forcing myself to feel guilty and ashamed for the necessity of cleansing me, the embarrassment of there being anything wrong in the first place. I want to get rid of condemnation, and accept that I can't be good/kind/loving on my own.
And after I've done that, I want to do those things that I did mention (praying, reading my Bible, etc.) but not because I'm trying to force my contentment or buy my freedom. I want to do it because being in God's presence is where I am comfortable. Because learning his thoughts, and hearing what He has to say is utterly desirable. And I will.

I will be fascinated with Jesus, no strings attached.

Day 16 of my Juice Fast

Well, it's Day 16, and I am over half way through with my Juice fast!

I am continuing to feel great, have loads of energy, lose weight (I'm down 18 pounds), and today I put on a dress that I wore for my graduation ceremony for undergrad school. I looked better in the dress today than I did 2 years ago. 

It blows my mind. In 16 days, I have undone the past 2 years. 

I can hear you asking, "But isn't it awful? Don't you miss chewing!?" And the answer is, "Eh, not really." Do I miss chewing? Not at all. I did eat a cracker while I took communion at church yesterday, and I'm not going to lie - it felt really weird to chew it. And the grape juice tasted like sugar on crack cocaine. But I'm still not hungry, and I still feel great. 

This weekend, I was exhausted and had zero motivation to do anything but see how many movies I could cram into 48 hours. I wanted sleep and rest. At first, I thought to myself, "Well, that's disappointing. I thought this detox would fix this." And then I realized... even though I was exhausted and unmotivated, I felt GREAT being exhausted and unmotivated. Prior to the fast, I would be exhausted, unmotivated, miserable and unhappy. But this weekend I was exhausted, unmotivated, content and felt good. Had I not had a blister the size of a steak you'd see on Diner's Drive-In's and Dive's (If you don't get the reference, my blister was huge, and a steak sounds great), then I would have been fine to go on a 4 mile walk. Prior to the detox, I would have known there was no way I could step a foot off my front porch and you couldn't have paid me in enough steak to take a 5 minute walk, let alone a 4 mile walk. 

Am I still craving food? Yes, but not in the sense you think. 

I'm craving variety. I want food, but I would be happy with healthy and non-processed food. I'm totally diggin' a cauliflower crusted, veggie pizza. Or a salmon patty and a nice kale salad with feta and almond slivers. 

Do I still want that "sunshine burger" from Buckhead Cafe, a deliciously tasty and juicy burger with a sunny-side up egg and a hefty dollop of guacamole, with greasy fries and ranch good enough to bathe in? 

Well, duh. Wouldn't you?

 Am I going to eat it? Every once in a while, yes. This is a juice detox, not the way I am living the rest of my life. I'm detoxing/fasting in order to lose addiction, not my taste buds. I expect to eat "clean" during the work week (because of my very long days at work and my level of business, it is easier for me to not focus on food treats) and then I plan on cooking more on the weekends, using meats, dairy and grains in moderation.

And yes, I still plan on eating out every once in a while. I still plan on eating chicken nacho's from Moe's, or a Reuben sandwich from Home and Market Cafe. Just not all the time, and it will be followed with clean eating and exercise. 

So there's my update. I still work at a psychiatric hospital and am surrounded by psychotic, homicidal, and suicidal patients 12 hours a day. I'm still exhausted on the weekends because of it. I still want food. But I'm still losing weight, still feeling great, and still planning on finishing this out for the full 30 days (you are going to eat your words, Jeremy Wagoner). 

Day 6!

I am proud to say that I have reached Day 6 of my 30 day juice fast!

Sunday, the first day, was probably the most difficult. I felt very weak, nauseous, and light headed. Day 2, I was at work and got a headache around 12:00... which turned into a migraine that night and I was in bed at 7:00 that night. Day 3 was a lot better. I felt really good, even though I had a small headache. And since Day 4 I have been doing GREAT!

I have noticed several exciting things:

1) I'm pretty excited about this one..... I've been waking up wonderfully. Normally, the most difficult time of the day for me is in the mornings. I am my most angry (yes, angry) the first 60 seconds after I wake up. It's been like that for years. I wake up angry, and it fades away after a couple minutes. I'm sluggish, miserable and exhausted. But even just after the first day, I have been waking up easily! I am not alert, and ready for the day after I wake up!

2) I am sleeping wonderfully. I sleep deep, and it feels good.

3) I have so much energy! I am not at all tired during the day. Usually I would tell you my "good" part of the day was between 11:00 - 2:00. However, I now last until around 8:00 before getting tired! Talking about improvement!

4) I'm not hungry. Am I craving? I'm craving bread and cheese, nachos, pizza, biscuits and gravy, and all that non-goodness (whatever, we know it's goodness) like a crazy mad woman. But no, I'm not actually hungry. I drink 64 ounces a day, sometimes more depending on if I get hungry or need to slap a craving in the face with a shot of pineapple juice. I'm also trying to drink 80+ ounces of water along with it. To answer the question that everyone at work has asked me daily, and I know you are wondering yourself, is no. I am not pooping my brains out. So there. That's all I have to say on that note.

5) I walked a mile this evening. And I did it quick, and I was never out of breath, and most importantly my feet and legs never started cramping. I really do believe that my health and physical wellness will change from this point on, so why not be honest. Walking anywhere previously killed me. But not now. Praise the Lord.

6) I'm losing weight. I think I might save this for later, and say how much when the fast is over. Or I might not share at all. I'm not sure yet. The point is, all these other things are more exciting to me. I'm doing this to feel good.

Did I mention how proud I am? I fully expected to quit after day 2. But I haven't. It's been so much easier than I though, I am reaping the rewards so much sooner than I could have ever dreamed of.
When I go into work with my beet, turnip green, apple, lime, and orange juice... I'm proud.
When I still get on Pinterest at night and can look at pictures of bacon without stars bursting in front of my eyes (trust me, that happened the first 3 days)... I'm proud.
When I realize that I'm almost done with my first week... I'm proud. And excited.

Be Filled With Joy... and Juice

Today I bought a new Bible, new journal, and $100 worth of fruits and veggies to begin what I hope will be a 30 day juice fast. Tomorrow I embark on a journey to rejuvinate my spiritual life, refresh my emotional health, and bring me to a new place spiritually. I need more Jesus, less stress, and more health.

Around a month ago, my aunt sent me a DVD called "Hungry for Change." I sighed a little when I recieved it in the mail, knowing it would add to my knowledge of how unhealthy I am living and eating, and that then the guilt would come. Usually, guilt turns into "Well, I might as well eat half this pizza and a whole thing of oreos. I'm fat anyways." But when I watched this DVD, which focuses on "eating clean" and having a plant-based diet, something in my mind changed. Instead of being guilt-ridden and looking for the nearest block of butter, I found myself intrigued by the idea of a diet creating more energy, shedding some pounds, and making me feel good. I know this is basic, and any healthy diet/lifestyle should do this... but the movie focuses on how unhealthy all processed foods are. I pretty much knew this due to the fact that a McDonald's cheeseburger and fries lasted four weeks outside in my backyard (neighbor tossed it in the yard) without changing shape or color. After watching Hungry for Change, I found a Joe Cross's documentary Fat Sick and Nearly Dead. I was immediately hooked. I wanted to do a juice fast.

I started adding a juice a day to my diet, without changing my diet. (Hungry for Change talks about adding things in, and as you get used to them then taking certain things out of your regular diet.) I loved it. And I craved a juice fast even more. So after much planning, I have arrived.

Tomorrow I am starting my juice fast. Again, I hope to last 30 days. I plan to post occasionally, with an update on how I'm doing. The following are my reasons for doing the fast.

- I need to end my cravings for bad food. I need to break habits of emotional eating and cycles of craving sweets, grease, and salt.
- I need to lose weight. Simply said, it's holding me back.
- I'm scared I have sleep apnea. I wake up at night with a gasp, and I am never (I repeat, NEVER) rested. The most difficult time of my day, when I am most tired and sluggish, is the first 2 hours after waking up.
- I want more energy. I'm tired all the time.
- I want to be healthy. I want to know that what I am putting in my body is healthy, not harmful. I want to not be filled with chemicals, and processed foods.

I am following the 15 day plan found on rebootwithjoe.com and using the recipes and grocery list provided. I went and purchased 100 dollars of groceries, and spent almost 3 hours prepping for the first 5 days. I washed the fruits and veggies, and portioned them out into gallon ziplock bags, labeling each bag for what day and meal they will be. The plan suggests waking up and immediately drinking a cup of warm water with the juice of half a lemon in it (it is an energizer and kick starts your metabolism). You then are to drink five different juices, each 16 ounce servings. Along with 16 ounces of coconut water, and LOTS of water.

So here I go. Prayers would be appreciated. This ain't goin' to be easy, folks.

Time for Some Goals!

Graduation is just around the corner and with it comes summer! Graduation is 23 days away, but in reality I will be done with my Graduate Assistantship and (hopefully) all of my final papers and projects by April 28th. That day will be my last day of classes, and the date of submission for my last projects and papers. Following that wonderful Saturday, I have no plans, no job as of yet, and will still be waiting to take my licensure exam in order to become a CSW (required in order for me to have a job at any agency/organization).

I predict that I will have one month off, possibly more depending on how long it will take to find a job.

That leaves some time for good summer goals, and whether or not I start my career immediately (oh my goodness... I just said the words "my career") summer goals will continue on!

A good friend of mine, Sarah Shaffer, writes a fantastic blog: Becoming a Proverbs 31 Woman. You should definitely check it out! It's filled with new recipes, a fantastic series on keeping your life organized, home decor ideas, and even some awesome give-aways!

Anyways, the point is that she recently wrote a post about her summer goals... and we all know how much I love a good list. So I thought I would create my own! Another reason that I'm doing this is that being in graduate school has made me feel as if I have had to put a hold on my goal setting. I don't have time for goals. Isn't that sad? For the past year, the only thing I can do is think about the assignment that is due in the next two days and how I have to continue working 50 hours a week while taking 15 hours of graduate classes.

So it's time to set some goals, now that I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel!

 

Savannah's Summer Goals (In No Particular Order)

• Take and pass my licensure exam with a score above a 75% (so that I can switch states if needed)
• Find a job, start my career (there are those words again!)
• Practice my guitar, be able to play one of my favorite songs
• Get involved at NewLife Church again, and become an active Chi Alphian!
• Fulfill my promise of sending handmade goodies to the 5 people who commented on a give-away type status I posted on FB
• Visit my dear friend, Leah Blackketter in Cinci
• Do some painting and crafting (make use of all those Pinterest craft ideas I saved)
• Hang pictures and painting up on my bare and empty living room wall
• Pick one topic related to my field and study up (I think I will start with Trauma Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy... I'm pretty interested in reactions to grief and trauma, especially in adolescents)
• Try new recipes and start organizing my "Sooter Family Cookbook" which has become slightly overwhelming
• Spend more time with Kate and all the wonderful friends I have here in Bowling Green
• Read 15 books, starting with the book "Flashbang" which I have started several times and never finished
• Start journaling again
• Take more pictures, documenting my life and the wonderful friendships I have
• Spend more time in prayer
• Begin reading the Bible in chronological order (which I have never done)
• Study (Kay Arthur style!) 2 books of the Bible
• Go through the entire summer with all laundry being placed on hangers and hung in the closet relatively soon after being washed and dried
• Go on brisk walks very frequently
• Finally, as the purpose of this blog is to keep family living out of state updated on how my life is going and what I have been doing lately (sorry I haven't been doing too well, Grandma), I am going to attempt to post more pictures of things that I love and things that I have been doing.
  
  And there you have it.
  I've set my summer goals.

One of those days....

Approximately 342 days of the year, I have "one of those days".

This type of day means I am sitting at work with a long list (crafts I would like to be doing, books I would like to be reading, and recipes I would like to be cooking) running through my head.

Today is one of those days.

To honor it, here is my list of "If I had my druthers I would be.... "

• At home taking down my Christmas tree, but stringing up more beautiful lights in my apartment.
• Cleaning out my craft closet (organizing is the better word to use, since I know I wouldn't actually throw any craft items away)
• Participating in the National Soup Month by putting potato soup in the crockpot
• Cashing in my free coffee coupon at Starbucks
• Playing James Morrison quietly in the background
• Hanging up the heart garland my friend Kate made for me
• Making a "Take What You Need Sign" for all the people I love (I will post on this later, as it really is a sweet idea)
• Making Gavin's prayer chain, and Kyle's bracelets that they have so very patiently been waiting for (sorry guys)
• Reading Flashbang!
• Writing scriptures on pieces of cardboard to hang on my walls
• Planning spring time decorations
• Browsing through my latest Martha Stewart magazine with a pack of post-its close at hand
• Placing my PRE study guide underneath a magazine so that I can ignore it's calls to study
• Attempting to find a Peter Pan shadow decal for sale on the internet
• Cuddling with Rilla, my sweet kitty
• Planning next weeks recipes/menu
• Watching the Civil Wars cover of "Billie Jean", maybe... eh, twenty-seven times
• Planning a cruise with my friend Lynde
• Sewing handkerchiefs onto my living room couch pillows
• Copying poems, quotes and scriptures into my "Collections" journal
• Journaling

If you check back again with me next week, I'm sure I'll have the same list stuck in my head.
The whole idea of "I want to be at home - taking care of my nest, cooking, and crafting" is not a new idea for me.
Note: While I talk about all the things I want to be doing at home... I am so blessed to have the job(s) that I do. I am getting paid to sit here, blogging and doing homework. I have an internship with people that I absolutely love, get along with really well, and I get to work with teenage boys that are funny, clever and brave.
I have a blessed life.

"two birthdays, a grill, and some non-exclusiveness"

Oh the days of being in Murray, when a birthday meant lots of food, lots of people and the chance to write a goofy email.
For some reason, as I was searching my gmail account for a friend's address, this email came up.
I wrote it to invite people to a birthday party, and re-reading it made me giggle. 


Reason number 7,945 that I miss Murray.... I don't get a chance to write emails like this.

"Dear friends.
For some odd reason I was put in charge of sending out the invite email for the big shindig Danni and Susan are having tomorrow night for Danni and Kaylee's birthday. I guess you could call it a birthday bash. I believe, however, that a "bash" is violent and a "shindig" sounds like it originated from the 70's. So let's go with shindig.
Anyways, let me tell you several things.
1) Grill is provided, and so is the meat.
2) We need sides. Lots of them. And not the kind found under your arm, the kind that comes in a bowl or casserole dish that is edible.
3) Drinks, chips, and some desserts are also acceptable.
4) I am not an elephant, therefore I don't remember everyone's email address. So.. if someone's email is not in here, PLEASE invite them. Mk. Thanks.
5) I need to know if you are coming, and if you are bringing something (please do) and what it is.

Danni's NEW apartment is 1411 Hillwood. You drive past WalMart (it's on your left), take the second road to your right after you pass the hotel on your right -- NorthWood. Turn left on Hillwood. It's the only 2 story duplex on the road, it's on your left and it's 1411.

It starts at 6:30, tomorrow night.
Email me back (although I prefer carrier pigeon. they're cuter.)

All my appreciation,
Lady of the Lake of Shining Waters.


P.S. This is not formal ladies and gents, we prefer that you do not show in formal attire. A.K.A. Tuxedos and evening gowns.

I Turned on the Radio

I never listen to the Radio. Why? Because christain radio stations tend to play the same 15 songs for 10 years in a row. Like this one below. But today I turned on the radio. And it was a good thing. Because I needed to hear this song. Especially the parts underlined.


"I Need You To Love Me"
Barlow Girl



Why, why are You still here with me
Didn't You see what I've done?
In my shame I want to run and hide myself
But it's here I see the truth
I don't deserve You



But I need You to love me, and I
I won't keep my heart from You this time
And I'll stop this pretending that I can
Somehow deserve what I already have
I need You to love me



I, I have wasted so much time
Pushing You away from me
I just never saw how You could cherish me
'Cause You're a God who has all things
And still You want me



Your love makes me forget what I have been
Your love makes me see who I really am
Your love makes me forget what I have been




God's grace is a gift that I'll never stop gawking at.

I Think I Hate Halloween....

Last night, I was laying in bed after browsing over Facebook's newsfeed. It was filled with Snow Whites, goblins, cowboys and naughty chefs. And so I started thinking about how much I dislike Halloween.

I hate the darkness of Halloween... that it's a holiday where dimmed lights, cobwebs, skeletons and motion-detecting horror scream machines are on everyone's Wal-Mart list.

I hate the arguments about whether Halloween is pure evil, set apart to sacrifice children that satanists raise just for this day or whether it's just a day to dress up in the latest Disney princess outfit. (The child sacrifice reference was the title and blurb of an article someone posted on Facebook.)

I hate that American's spend an average of $50's on candy the week of Halloween.

I hate violent costumes. Why is it acceptable to society to dress as a dead bride, with a knife sticking out of your head and blood on your face? If I were to walk around as a rape victim, would you laugh and point and rush to have your picture taken with me?

I hate that the morning news topic on TV is inappropriate outfits for 5 year olds.... that are sold in retailers around the country.

I hate that cleavage is a part of most Halloween costumes, and it doesn't matter how old or young you are... if you've got boobs, show 'em. Mother of __*insert number*__ kids? That's ok, your kids aren't at the wild drunken party to see your immodesty.

I highly dislike Halloween. And I just realized it yesterday.

The Effects of Cold Medicine...

Normally I am pleased when someone goes out of their way to help me.
Normally I think to myself "Wow. How kind was that? Jesus, please bless them today." or "I'm so glad they knew how to help me... because I sure didn't."

But not today.

Here's the story.

I pull up to the parking garage and wait for the gate to lift. It doesn't.
"Oh!", I think to myself, "it's one of the days where they randomly require you to wave your permit in front of a sensor in order to lift the gate."
I open my car door (since my car was not close enough to the sensor) and step out.
I'm immediately jerked back in my seat because I left my seat belt on.
"Please, God. Please don't let anyone have seen that."
Turning around, of course there is a car behind me -- and the girl obviously saw me.
Realizing that my cold medicine is probably the reason for my slightly non-responsive brain, I focus on getting my WKU I.D. out of my wallet and swipe it across the sensor.
Nothing.
I then spend the next 2 minutes trying to get the sensor to read my ID.

I swipe up.
I swipe down.
I swipe across.
I press it against the sensor.
I tap it against the sensor.
I turn my card around, I turn my card upside down....
Nothing.

Finally, the girl in the car behind me (since there is now a long line of cars watching my sniffly, tired, pale and confused self unsuccessfully wave my ID around like a fool) gets out and runs up to my car window and says "use this" and swipes her PARKING PERMIT.
(Clearly the sign said permit... and I'm trying to swipe my ID like I just returned a book from the library.)

Of course, when the gate lifts and I pull into a parking spot, the girl parks next to me.
I choose to hide in my car while talking on the phone to my mother rather than explain to permit-girl why my brain seems a little foggy today.

Considering my opening statement, I grudgingly say that I am still glad she helped me out.
But only because if she hadn't I would have had to get out of my car and wave all the other cars into the other lane, until there was enough room for me to back out and leave in shame.

So here's a half-hearted thank you to permit-girl.

This will have to suffice

I will continue writing blogs. Funny blogs, newsy blogs, inspiring blogs... those kinds of blogs.
As for now.... I'm going back to the always trust-worthy list.

So here is my list for today.

1. I started my internship this week at Group Effort, a boy's group home. I will write about my initial reaction later.

2. I now know that I am 100% sure that I want to be a foster parent.

3. I went to bed at 8:15 last night.... but I was ready to go to bed at 5:15.

4. I'm overwhelmed with homework. The kind of overwhelmed where you have to grab a towel to wipe off the snot and tears that just pooled on the face of your cell phone, that kind of overwhelmed. I have so much reading.... and one of the books that I have to write a paper on is way beyond me. It's intellectual vocabularly is about 10 notches above mine. I despise this book.

5. I'm going to Murray in two weeks... and I'm relieved. I need to see Jennifer, Amanda, Andrew, Mr. Mark Randall, Kathleen.... all of those good people who lift me up and cheer me on in life.

6. My apartment is a mess. "Why?" you ask. Well. I get up. Get ready. Travel 30 minutes to work. Work from 8 - 4:30. Travel 30 minutes home. Take a 45 minute dinner break. Study. Fall into bed (typically as a weepy snotty mess). Get back up. Do you see a time scheduled for cleaning in there? No. Neither did I.

7. I have a planner again. The relief I feel is unimaginable. I can plan and schedule my day. I can write to-do lists, grocery lists, homework lists and movies-to-buy lists... and they will all stay in one book, in one place. I feel rich. And organized. (Thank you, my dear auntie!)

8. I am going to write a short blog about how much I miss people smelling good. (Not that anyone smells bad... it's just that no one wears perfume/cologne around here... and that is a tragedy. Everyone should smell good.)

9. I have a new friend named Danny. He went to culinary school but he refuses to bake for anyone. Supposedly it is my turn to bring a snack to work. He states that he is a "fat man that likes to keep his fat, so no bringin' dang carrot sticks. Shew. bring sumpin' GOOD."

10. I am blessed and highly favored.

Goodnight, people.

The Things You Learn in Grad School....

So here is what I could write about in my blog today:

• All the different kinds of yummy things I could make using pumpkin as an ingredient

• A list of my house plants, their names, and which one I really don't care for but feel pressured to keep

• My confusion to why so many people think that my aversion to cotton balls is so "abnormal"

• Our first official Chi Alpha meeting of the semester, and the awesome things that Amy taught. Topic: Born to Demonstrate

• My annoyance with my glasses and the poor eyesight I have when I wear them; which causes me to tilt my head back and squint at the computer, which I am currently doing. I need to make an appointment. Pronto.

• My delight over my GA position, and the "assignment" that I have been given - which basically means I get to do homework all semester.

• A list of reasons explaining why I think ear wax is completely unnecessary

Although these blog topics are all VERY interesting, I feel compelled to write an excerpt from the textbook that I am currently reading.
The book is the Practice of Social Work, written by Charles H. Zastrow (who does a very fine job since I actually enjoy this textbook. Surprise, surprise!).
The chapter is titled "Counseling from the Client's Perspective" and the topic is "Conceptualize the Problem".
Since this is the type of textbook that tries to engage the bored and caffeine-filled graduate student, there are occasionally exercises provided where a scenario is given (based on the current topic) and you have a space to write out what you would do in that situation.
It's like an uninteresting creative workbook.
I just came across Exercise 5.6: Exploring a Socially Unacceptable Topic with Tact... and it just became interesting.
I'm so glad I read this, as I *ahem* tend to skip over the exercises.... I think of it as a waste of pen ink and that I'm doing my part in saving the environment.

Here is what Exercise 5.6 says.

"You are a social worker at a social service agency."
(Wow! Aren't they genius!? How did they know that I was reading this and that it wasn't an Art History major or something like that? OK. Sorry. Moving on.)

"You are a social worker at a social service agency. You have a client who rather frequently expels intestinal gas. You and the other staff at the agency find such behavior to be obnoxious. The person has been unemployed for the past three months, and in the past 14 years (the client is age 34), he has frequently been fired from janitorial jobs. You wonder if his frequent expulsion of intestinal gas may be a factor in causing his spotty work history. Write the words you would use in having him look at whether his obnoxious habit is a reason for his being discharged from jobs and a reason he has difficulty in now being hired."

....

....

Needless to say, this is one exercise I plan on filling out. 

 I will be a GREAT social worker.

A Poem for Amanda

I have a best friend who is sweet as can be,
She’s sassy, she’s spunky – she’s stronger than me!

Her freckles are lovely, set off by red hair.
But saying you like them will earn you a glare.

Her eyes clearly are hazel, do not call them brown!
She might sigh, huff and puff and then fake a frown.

She knows how to paint, to draw and to sew.
She is quite the accomplished, that anyone would know.

She’s there when I need her, she’ll drive all the way,
She knows how to listen and just what to say.

Conversing with her, the topics always are deep.
She’s one of the few that keeps making me think.

Amanda, dear Amanda, my sweet pal and bud –
Until you move here with me… my tears will make mud.

A Few Ode-to-WKU Letters...

A beautiful campus, located on top of the only hill in Bowling Green, KY.

Our school mascot. Supposedly, red blobs represent a "hill-topper."

Just saying "hilltoppers" did not prepare me for the breath-taking (literally) campus.

Dear WKU, School of "the Hill-Toppers",
   I know that you think that your steep hills and practically vertical stair cases are "good for my health" but in actuality I prefer life, not death.
     Sincerely,
       I'm Completely Out of Breath

Dear WKU,
   I know that as a student of your University I am considered a "hill-topper"; however, the truth of the matter is... I don't "top" hills. Heck, I can't even skip-to-my-lou.
     Sincerely,
      I Despise Walking On Up Campus

**Slight Dramatization**

 

Dear Subway on Campus,
   When I ask for extra napkins, I would appreciate it if you pretended NOT to know they were for mopping up my sweating face. It's your fault you are located at the top of the hill. Not mine.
     Sincerely,
Next Time I'll Pack My Own Lunch and Napkins

Dear Subway on Campus,
   Why didn't you tell me that you aren't the only Subway on campus, and that there was one closer to my office building??
     Sincerely,
       Slightly Peeved and Still Out of Breath

Dear Young and Slightly Vain Students,
    I know how inviting the grassy knoll in the middle of campus is, but it is not actually for you to lay sunbathing on.
     Sincerely,
I've Never Seen That Many Bikinis On Campus Before

Dear Lost Freshman,
    Please. When you are standing in between classrooms 110 and 109 -- don't ask me if I can help you find room 107 with a confused look on your face.
    Sincerely,
     Guess Who Is Unobservant?

A New 'First Day'

Today is the first "official" day of classes on the campus of Western Kentucky University, but it's not the same "first day of class" as it has been for the past 4 years.

I didn't go to prayer at 7:14 AM in the Curris Center at Murray State University. Instead, I prayed in my apartment. Instead of pacing in front of the same 4 potted plants that I have for years... I paced the three inches that the cord on my hair-straightner allowed me.

Breakfast was not in the T-room with all of my wonderful friends. Heck, I didn't even eat this morning -- I forgot (until now).

Parking was actually easier, and closer to my location (thanks to the gigantic parking structure in front of the Academic Complex building), and I was completely grateful for my $90 parking permit.

I'm not sitting at a desk that my thighs don't fit under in Sparks Hall (but don't get me wrong, I love that desk!) I'm sitting at a big-girl (that I am) desk with homework spread in front of me and nothing to work on besides that.

I'm not dirty-dishwater-blonde... I'm a red head.

I didn't wake up with 4 roommates in my house. One still sleeping, one eating cereal and doing her quiet time at the breakfast table, one leaning against the counter while she eats her breakfast, and the other thumping around upstairs. It was just me, and my cats (all outside, homeless, lonely ones) David and Calypso meowing outside my door for their morning chow.

I'm not carrying a backpack with all the books I could possibly need for homework and classes (in order to stay on campus without leaving), rather I'm carrying a highly fashionable and completely unlike me Vera Bradley bag with enough homework to complete 2 class assignments (which is oddly heavier than my back pack in Murray would be).

Today, Katie Gagel is not on Gmail to gab to about the latest happenings, my new red hair, the fact that I really want to fly, or that I'm still waiting for my Toms to come in the mail. Instead, she is most likely getting ready for bed... as it is around 10 PM Buson-Korea-time.

On the first day of classes... my classes aren't actually starting. Blackboard is up and running, giving me plenty to do, pages to write, and dozens of chapters to attempt to absorb; however, face-to-face classes don't start until September 10th. Shockingly enough, I will only meet a total of 6 times for each class. Yes, they are 4 hour classes... but six meetings seems so few compared to MWF and TR classes.

Tonight is the night that everyone in XA meets in the Red Zone? or Fresh Foods? (I can't remember) for dinner and meeting new people. We are not meeting in Winslop.

When I ran into a professor in the social work department today, I did not say "Dr. Chakradhar!! It's so good to see you again! How was your summer!? Have you made your rag rug yet?" Instead, I say "Hi. I'm Savannah, the new GA. You met me at orientation but I have no idea what your name is, can you remind me?" This awkward introduction is followed by an even more awkward handshake... I firmly grip is hand and shake it, then release and pull back too quickly. This causes the professor, who is still gripping my hand, to jerk forward. I guess this point should have said "today, awkward situations still happen to me."

Today I'm the lost-and-need-a-campus-map, befuddled and new person who can't answer any questions that come on the phone because I don't know any answers.

Yes, all of these things are new and different.... But a couple things remain the same.

Jesus still has His hand on my back, pushing forward to talk to the new student who came in the office to drop off papers, telling her how much I like her Bieber glasses.

When I realize that, while today is such a different "first day" than what I have had for the past four years, it's just as great, exciting and filled with new opportunities... He nods His head and smiles (I'm sure of it).

When I begin to feel stressed, panicked and overwhelmed with my schedule, He gently reminds me He is in control as He changes my schedule, my internship, and gives me a job where I can do homework.

When I feel lonely, He surrounds me and tells me something sweet.

When I find a picture of bird silhouette on a background of old lace and pressed flowers... I still squeal with delight and show the person closest to me.

It's a new day, with a big change. But it's the same me, the same source of joy, and I am still blessed and surrounded by good things.

It's worth it. Watch it.

Lamo. I know.

I know it's lame. But I can't help it.
1. I'm addicted to lists... so if I see one that I could fill out, I turn to my blog.
2. I don't have too much time to sit and write a creative post about life, Jesus, or wooden spatulas.
3. I don't remember to sit and write a creative post.
4. I read my Aunt's blog daily. It's two minutes of sliding down in my chair so my back is all slouchy and comfy, wishing that I lived in Duluth and that I had the cleverness, wit, beauty, wisdom and poetic writing rythm that my lovely Aunt does.

So I know, it's lame... but all of my (two and a half) posts that I have written lately (in the past year) are mostly responses to my Aunt's blog. Oh well. Here'goes.
Here is my list of ABC's.

Age: 22. Thankfully, this is the year that I remember this. For some odd reason it was impossible to remember, last year, that I was 21.

Bed Size: Twin. But I'm pretty sure I could stretch out on a California king all by myself. I'll need that someday (soon) when I have a job and a Golden, Malamute and Akita sharing it with me. *leap of excitement*

Chore You Hate: Folding laundry. I don't do it. I try, I make promises, I write in my journal, I pray... and nothing. It doesn't happen. I hate it. So instead, it sits in a heap on my floor. Which is fine. Someday I'll have a closet, and I'll be hanging everything up. Underwear, bra's, my Sunday best, pajamas, scarves, everything. Nothing will be in a drawer.
Pah! Silly!! Drawers are for scrapbooking material and dog toys.

Dogs: Future dogs: Golden Retriever, Malamute and Akita. Throw in a good loyal mutt too.

Essential Start of Your Day: An extra hour of sleep.

Favorite Color: Turquoise, Grey-blue, Mossy Green, Browns... Pretty much anything you would find in the life of a wood elf.

Gold or Silver: Either. But I like tarnished, old, antique metals. If it's too bright -- Yuck.


Height: 5’10″, unfortunately... since I seem to be taller than 99% of guys I know. According to the all-trustworthy Wikipidia, the average height of males aged 20-29 in America is 5'10''. It's a lie. It's all a lie.


Instruments You Play(ed): Psaltry, Penny Whistle, Mountain Dulcimer.

Job Title: Unpaid, temporary full-time social work intern.


Kids: I'm simply a babysitter. I currently sit on Isaiah (2), Mark Andrew (2) and Siler (3).


Live: Murray, KY. Soon to be Duluth. Yes, I know, it's cold.... but trust me.... when the word "Duluth" is not only chosen for you by some random "findyourspot.com" website but is THEN sung in Veggie Tale songs... you know it's a sign from God.   *wink, wink*

Mom’s Name: Christine Mary, Marmie, Momsy, Mutha, Mimsy, Mom, Moo Moo. (totally kidding about the Mom part).

Nicknames: Scooter, Snoop dogg, Scoot, Van, Savvy, Vannah, Sav, and Flowing Grasslands. (Flowing Grasslands is a new one. Thanks Chad!)

Overnight Hospital Stays: Nope.

Pet Peeve: When people chew with your mouth open. Yes, it's understandable if I can hear you crunching on carrots, but I should not be able to hear pudding slopping around in your mouth.    
OH! And noise at night. That's annoying.

Quote From a Movie: (after being seasick) "Carrots!? Why is it always carrots?? I didn't even eat carrots!!" - Milo, Disney's Atlantis

Right or Left handed: Right. But a new years resolution since the time I was, eh... 10? was to right with both hands.


Siblings:  Mr. Eric Townley and my adopted sister, Ms. Jennifer Lofland. She's the runt of the family.


Time You Wake Up: 7:00. Prayer meeting starts at 7:14. Needless to say... sometimes I wear yesterdays makeup.

Underwear: I'm a strong believer.

Veggie You Dislike: Beets. Cooked carrots. Peas.


What Makes You Run Late: A Martha Stewart Magazine. Or Youtube videos.

X-Rays You Have Had: Fingers, Ankles (each one several times), Knees, Teeth, Dorsal Fin.
     I'm sorry folks. I am in a really sarcastic and stupid mood. Sigh.

Yummy Food You Make: Creamy chicken enchiladas. Panini's. Vegetable Tempura.

Zoo Animal You Like Best: Bats and sting rays... all though, I really don't like the zoo. I haven't gone since I was probably 12... but still. I'd rather see animals on Discovery Channel being tracked through the jungle, rather than through iron bars.

I love how that ended on a really serious note.

Goodbye.

They were all one in a million...

In a recent post on my Aunt's blog she wrote about all of her grandparents, sharing a word she associated with each of them. I thought this was a wonderful idea, so instead of posting a lengthy reply on her blog, I am writing my response here.

First of all, before I begin, it is important for you to know two things: 1) My chosen words will most likely be associated with my favorite memory of them.... 2) I have a lot of grandparents.

Grandpa Sooter: Bread. Every time that I have visited my grandpa, he immediately took me to the store to buy two things -- sweet sticky cereal, such as cookie crisps (which were not allowed at home) and bread to feed the seagulls with. If I went and spent a week with him, it was highly possible that we went every other day to go feed the seagulls. We would take our loaf of bread, drive down to the beach and spend the day running from the waves, building sandcastles, lecturing him about where to or not to throw his cigar butts, and throwing bits of junky bread to hungry, greedy, and overly obnoxious seagulls. I always tried to feed the little runt of a seagull, maybe the one that had an injured foot or seemed to be missing a feather, and he always made an effort to toss a piece of bread to the top-dog of the flock (which always was a very proud and beautiful bird). It was always my favorite day spent with him...

Grandma Dorothy: Beautiful. Now my grandma is possibly the fairest of them all, without a doubt, but what I am referring to is the perfume Beautiful, by Estee Lauder. Where I am working now, there is a woman that comes in every Monday and Friday (to take part in Wii bowling) who wears this same perfume. Every time I speak to her, I tear up and sigh with longing to hop on a plane to California to see my beautiful grandma. The reason I associate this to her is not just because its the perfume she has always worn, but because every time that I have gone to visit her I have returned with something doused in that smell. If I remember correctly, the last time I was with my grandma, I returned home with a gorgeously fluffy and ridiculously soft bathrobe... I still have it and I can still smell her perfume. It's this perfume that always starts the memories of total laughter, playing the game Trouble at the dining room table, and counting pennies. These are the best memories a girl could have. I could write a book with them.

Grandpa Carlos: Refrigerator. This is the funniest memory that I have of any of my grandparents.... I remember going up to Grandma Bertha in the late afternoon and asking for a snack or a  cookie from one of the six sitting around the kitchen. As a good grandma should, she always shooed me out of the kitchen all the while "tsk"ing and "hmph"ing saying that I was going to ruin my dinner if I ate something now.... So I would go out to Grandpa Carlos' shop. Sitting a little bit away from the house was the ultimate man cave, complete with radio, tools, wood, dirt, and a refrigerator. From what I can remember, Grandma never set foot in his shed. She didn't care about tools and typically left him to fix such and stuff and create this and that in his beloved tool shed. Anyways, I would go out to his shed, tell him that I was hungry... What do you think he did? He opened up his refrigerator and let me pick out a snack. You would be shocked and amazed (some even horrified) at the display of eats he had. He had everything from cupcakes and cookies to Popsicles, ice cream and fudge. He had pudding and jello, soda and juice, Gatorade and yogurt. Everything a hungry (and disobedient) child could desire. So I would hop over grab a soda pop and maybe a Popsicle, and head over to my chair next to him. I would eat my Popsicle, and sigh in satisfaction when it didn't matter that I dripped my grape Popsicle on the wood-shavings covered floor. It was a child's dream place, and I'd give anything to go back to that.

Grandma Bertha: Now this one is hard.... I think of Grandma Bertha and I think of love, warmth, letters, hugs, cooking, and so much more. I honestly don't think that I can pick just one word, so let's go with two. Spiders and Homework. It makes me shake my head and chuckle out loud as I sit here getting ready to tell you of my mischievous behavior as a kid at my grandma's house. We all know that I really enjoy a good practical joke... and, unfortunately for Grandma, it all started at her house. Every morning while she was making Mexican chorizo and eggs in a skillet I would sneak into her room and place a plastic spider under the messed up covers on her bed. And everyone morning, she would go in to make her bed, find the gummy fake spider, and start yelling. She would find me peering around the door frame, squealing with laughter, and start chiding me half in English and half in Spanish. She would point her finger at me, and say "Do you want your Grandma to die of a heart attack? Do you want that blood on your hands??" and proceed to tell me how badly I had scared her. Now.... I don't know if I really did scare her or not, but it certainly was rewarding to have her scream like that. Which is why I continued to put spiders in her bed every day I spent with her, until my parents and I moved from California to Tennessee.
The second word, homework, will be a short story. Basically, when I would bring all of my homework (remember, I was home schooled) to my Grandma's house on the days that my Mom would work, I would take my homework sheets and stuff them under furniture. Spelling worksheets, social studies.... they all went under the kitchen hutch or her bedroom dresser. They were never found until after we moved to Tennessee. How convenient for me!

Grandpa Harold: Unfortunately, I don't have very many memories of my Grandpa Harold... although I have been taught and told so many wonderful things about him from my mom. I know that he was sweet, kind, gentle and an absolutely wonderful father, husband and grandpa. If I had to pick a word(s) to describe him, or to associate to him it would have to be something along the lines of Easter Egg. I remember one Easter, me and all the other cousins lounging in the living room while the moms, aunts and grandma were in the kitchen. I remember that Grandpa pulled me over to him, sat me on his knee and whispered to me the location of the prize Easter egg. This specific Easter egg had a $10 bill in it... and I distinctly remember my cousin Benjamin being adamant that he would be the first to find the golden egg. Obviously he wasn't, and I was.

Grandma Connie: Generosity, to the extreme. Again, I don't have many memories of my mother's side of the family... so I don't have as many memories of her mother and father as I do my other grandparents. Grandma Connie died soon after we had moved from California, and I have a hard time recalling too many memories of her. But I do know that I loved her, loved spending time in her house filled with rabbit decorations, and loved going "out on the town" with her. I remember her being sweet and loving, always hugging me and kissing me on the forehead... and I remember her always giving her time, her things (which little girls love, especially old perfume bottles), and taking me shopping for a special treat. Trips out with Grandma were always sweet, and made me feel like a grown-up. We would always go to a very special little local cafe, and browse around some local boutiques. She was even the one to buy me my first and only barbie doll.... and the first to start loving a driveway lined with flowers.