The End

I went to my last support group meeting this week. It was so hard to say goodbye to these women, and it has only been a couple of months! It was such a blessing to be involved with this group at this point of my life. I needed to be here at this time to help these women and to be helped by them. I needed to spend this time dwelling on my faith. I needed to think about the love that I have for my children who have come and gone and the love I will have for the ones who are yet to come (this is not an announcement by any means!). I have discovered hidden strengths within my self that maybe would have taken years to surface.

It gave me an opportunity to tell these women my testimony and to share my love for my Heavenly Father on a weekly basis. I love the way women can come together to lift each other up when we feel weak, scared, or overwhelmed. It makes me thankful for the innate qualities of women.

So I remain thankful and in awe of the strength of women.

A Poetic Birthday Blog

I don't know why, but whenever I think about the great love that I have for my husband, I get a little poetic. I was thinking alot about him this week because of his 26th birthday (yes, I realize that he looks a great deal younger!). I took a poetry class in university (needed the English credit) and for some reason, I began reading the anthology again just the other day. That was when I discovered this:

A Red, Red Rose

By: Robert Burns

O my Luve's like a red, red rose,

That's newly sprung in June;

O my Luve's like the melodie

That's sweetly played in tune.-

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

So deep in luve am I;

And I will love thee still, my dear,

Till a'the seas gang dry.-

Till a'the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi' the sun:

O I will love thee still, my dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.-

And fare thee weel, my only Luve,

And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my Luve,

Though it were ten thousand mile!-

Now granted, ol' Robbie was talking about some lovely lass, not my great strapping husband, but the thought is there. I can't believe that another year has passed and he is another year older. Happy birthday my love, here's to an eternity more!

The Power of Imagination

So, I read a scary book last night. It wasn't gory, crude, explicit, or creepy. It was just scary. It was a book that relied on the imagination of the reader to fill in the blanks of the story to make it as creepy as you could handle. Unfortunately for me, my brain fills in way more than I can handle. Probably wasn't my best plan to read it in the middle of the night, but I was up and bored.

While we are on the subject, why is it that it is in the middle of the night that the house decides to "settle?" Or, that the furnace kicks in with frightening irregularity? Or, the person beside you suddenly cries out in a dream? None of these things are good when one is deeply engrossed in a scary book!

I made myself scared. There was no sleeping after that book. Stupid book! Well, not really, but you understand. I blame my parents for giving us too much time to explore and develop an imagination. If they had been like everyone else's parents, we would have had our minds ruined with television until we could think of nothing outside of what was directly told us.

Wait, perhaps I should be thanking them, instead of scolding them. Thanks mom and dad for making it possible for me to nearly wet myself at 3:15 am when the furnace kicked in just as the lady walked into the dark room by herself. It was a great moment, and one that I am very happy had no witnesses.

Viva Las Vegas!

Currently a bunch of my family members are living it up in Vegas, and I have to be honest when I tell you that I am a lovely shade of green about it. I love the idea of Vegas. I don't care about the gambling (obviously), but it is the history that makes me want to be there. I have a confession to make for those who are unaware, I LOVE Elvis. He makes my heart flutter. And more than Graceland, Vegas says Elvis to me.

I am also a huge fan of the Rat Pack, you know, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. They were so awesome. Crooners. I am such a sucker for them.

Anyway, my family is there, and I am stuck here freezing. I am, however, looking forward to a showgirl rubber ducky that my mother is trying to find for me.

And the Winner is....

So I am sure you were all watching religously as the poor befuddled bachelor picked his girl, and then changed his mind. Not entirely sure how I feel about it. It was like he tried Melissa on for size, didn't like the fit, and then decided that Molly might suit him better. Kind of weird.

I laughed through most of the final episode and the after the rose stuff. Probably not nice of me, but I couldn't help it. Melissa sounded so fake. Also, I hate it when people talk about themselves in the third person: "Melissa was who you chose, but now you don't want to fight for Melissa!" Sheesh! Give me a break. Not that I would have behaved much better.

So now it is all over. Thank goodness Top Model starts this week. Bad television is so entertaining.

In other news: work is busy, I have a sinus cold, I found a new cookie recipe that I love, my support group is awesome!, and my parents leave in two days for Vegas (we get their cars!). All in all, not that interesting, but c'est la vie!