#13: Load Up the Bases [101 in 1001]

Load up the bases, fire up the crowd.

Lets clear out the dugout, we're gonna get real loud!

Just throw me a fastball, smoke from the mound.

We're gonna end this thing with just one swing.

I'm gonna knock one out!

I'm gonna knock one out!

Load Up the Bases by Whiskey Falls

　
My earliest TV memories were of Sesame Street, Hee-Haw, and later when we got cable, televised Major League baseball games. My dad and I didn’t have many common interests, but we did have a mutual love/hate relationship with the Atlanta Braves. We watched them go from worst to first, and unfortunately by the time my father died, back to worst again. Dad’s been gone for twelve years and they haven’t made it back to first YET! *sigh*

One of my dreams was to attend a game.  The problem was 1) I don't drive on the interstate, 2) Even if I did, there's no way I'm driving in Atlanta (much less alone), and 3) I don't even know how to buy a proper affordable ticket without ending up with seats just outside the toilet.  I put it on my 101 in 1001 list, not really knowing if it was possible.

I heard a minister say once that there was no Hebrew word for "coincidence"--meaning "A man's heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps (Proverbs 16:9 KJV).  No, I'm not saying that Baseball is the Lord's favorite sport (we all know it's college football).  I simply mean that God does care about the little things.  So I won't say it was a coincidence, but that God lined things up perfectly.  My friend Joni is an avid Braves and San Francisco Giants fan (?).  She happened to mention to me at church that the Braves and Giants were playing each other in Atlanta on Memorial Day--my 44th birthday AND my day off--and she and her family were planning to attend.  I asked her if there was any way possible for me to ride with them, plus I needed help buying a ticket.  "No problem," she said.

No problem?

Wait, where are all the excuses I usually get from my friends when it comes to stuff like this?

There weren't any.

The night before the game and the ride to Atlanta were reminiscent of the sleepless nights and giddy mornings I experience before a 5k race.  Walking from the Blue parking lot to our seats was like walking a 5k.  I didn't care.  I was at Turner Field during it's last season (they're building a new stadium, SunTrust Field). 

The seats were great.  They were in the shade and on the upper deck of the home plate side.  The pre-game festivities were a moving tribute to the military heroes we lost in combat.  The game was fabulous; the Braves actually defeated the Giants 5-3.  (Do the Chop here)  The only downside was the roasted peanuts; the bag I bought must have been old...very old.

I came home tired, but with a smile on my face. Thanks, Joni, for giving me one of the best birthdays ever!

#39: Spirit of the Bull [101 in 1001]

Back in 2013, I blogged about my time with the Jacksonville State University Marching Southerners, my college marching band.  I'll not rehash the sordid details here (that's what the link is for), but I did end the post by saying that I wanted emotional closure.

I think I found it on November 21, 2015.

Like every alumnus, I get a yearly invitation to our reunion.  Each time I'd plan to go, turn chicken (no pun intended), and find a reason not to go.  This time, I felt I was mentally ready and sent in my RSVP without hesitation.

Note:  I said mentally ready.  I wasn't sure I was physically ready.  Now, mind you, this isn't a sit around, drink beer, and reminisce kind of reunion...well, maybe they do that at the Friday night dinner, but I wasn't  around for that (I am on a budget, you know).  No, we're there to play during halftime.  I had to be prepared to play anything from triangle to bass drum.  Well, I WAS lighter than my college weight, so why not?

Parking was an issue when I got there Saturday morning.  There was a price for the closest spaces, plus I found out later if you left and came back, you'd be charged again, plus you may not get your spot back.  So, I did what any cheapskate would do, I parked at the Library for free and walked across campus.  That proved to be a good decision.  As I traversed the Quad and got closer to the sound of the current members warming up, any fear I may have had gave way to absolute giddy excitement. 

Upon arrival at Burgess-Snow Field, I was met by the group from the Grey Drummers--alumni from the percussion  section.  They meet during the year to play.  They welcomed me as an equal and handed me a set of 18 inch cymbals to play.  Hot diggidy, it's on now!

Practice went well.  Halftime went even better.  Not only did we play the Southerners standards, but performed one of my all time favorites, Spirit of the Bull, with the current band.  By the time we were done, I thought my arms were going to fall off, but I was ecstatic.  I can't wait the 2016 reunion.

Why hadn't I done this before?

For starters because I hadn't dealt with my bad memories.  In fact, I had suppressed them for nearly two decades.  Then, there's the whole "I gotta lose X-amount of pounds so I can feel worthy to come back."  You know what?  I wasn't at my goal weight and I didn't care!  If "Mr. Coordinator" who body shamed me was there, I never noticed, and I wasn't looking for him either. I was having too much fun crashing plates.  If he had made his presence known to me, I wouldn't have hesitated to show him genuine fellowship and courtesy. 

If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed. - John 8:36

I thank God for freeing me from the pain, helping me find equality, and renewing a long stifled joy.

Blow Southerners!

40 Days of Gratitude: Day 27

In looking through some old photos today, I find myself grateful for such wonderful memories.


This picture of Mr. Eddie West, God rest his soul, brings back my early days as a musician.  Mr. Eddie taught me to play on that very bass guitar.  I'll tell you that story sometime.  We named it "Big Woody"--the heaviest bass I've ever seen.  It was like an oak tree with strings, but I built my chops (and back muscles) on that beast. 

1990:  My first (and so far only) trip to the gulf.  The Marching Southerners did an exhibition show in Fort Walton Beach, Florida.  The trip was a whirlwind, but it was beautiful.

My Dad,  ML Maddox.  A good memory if him at Christmas time when we lived in Piedmont.



One of the first--if not THE first afghan I ever crocheted.

2006:  My sister Ida's wedding.  One of the best family celebrations we've ever had.  Plus, I still brag on the fact that Ida made her own wedding dress.

Great memory from my teaching days.  Love my Thunderbabies!

40 Days of Gratitude: Day 25

I subbed at the school again today.  I am thankful for Legos and Duplos:

Whoever invented Lego and Duplo blocks was a genius.  These blocks give imagination a steroid shot!  These blocks make it OK for me to get in the floor to play and imagine with the children.  These blocks also give me good memories of my teaching days--so something to smile about for hours.  Maybe I need to ask Santa for Legos for Christmas...along with socks and underwear.

The Electric Mayhem: The Weekly Hodgepodge [30 Day Photo Blog]

Want to join the party?  Go on over to From This Side of the Pond  for the Hodgepodge questions.

I'm combining the Hodgepodge today and the Photo Blog.  I went into my old photo albums for part of this, so they are pictures I took.

It's still May, right? When were you last in the middle of something that might be described as mayhem?

The mayhem of moving

Moving is mayhem on both ends!  At the apartment, I had to sort through almost 19 years of living in the same place.  I thought I had gotten rid of a bunch of stuff before I even knew I was moving, but when I got into the nooks and crannies, I saw I hadn't made much of a dent.  It's going to be a while before the new place is put together properly.

When did you last feel dismayed?

Depression is a frequent struggle for me.  I guess I would consider being dismayed as the ultimate punch in the gut when something happens to take away any confidence or will to live.  The last time that happened was when my craft business was shut down by forces beyond my control.  When I have turned in the keys to the old place, I will go into more details.  Let's just say that dying was a better alternative than having my passion and hope peed on.

What's a food combination you like, but other people may find strange?

Auntie's "Hot Mess Omelet"

Probably all the things I put in/on my omelet.  I usually put sautéed veggies (peppers, onions, mushrooms, spinach), cheese, avocado, olives, and salsa.  As you can see, it looks a hot mess, but it tastes wonderful.  Yes, I know I scorched the eggs, but I'm used to it.  I'd rather them be scorched than raw and runny.

"It is never too late to be what you might have been." Do you think that's true? Why or why not?

I wholeheartedly agree.  I'm in the midst of that myself.  I'm in my early 40's and still trying to reach my dreams.  You don't know how many times people have tried to discourage me from continuing to improve.  Whether it's my health or my art, there are always haters who don't want to see me succeed.  I have to keep going.  Besides, life begins at 40, so I'm just an infant.

Photo via Google

An inspiration to this concept for me is Ernestine Shepherd.  I mentioned her in my Z entry for the A-Z blog challenge last month.  She is in her mid 70's and at one time was the oldest living competitive body builder.  She didn't get started on her health journey until her 50's.  If she can do it, I can do it.

 

 

US News and World Report listed the best historic destinations in the US as follows-Washington D.C, Philadelphia PA, Williamsburg VA, Charleston SC, Boston MA, Richmond VA, Savannah, GA, Santa Fe NM, Yellowstone, San Antonio TX, San Francisco CA, New Orleans LA, and Charlottesville VA.

Of those listed how many have you seen in person? Which two sites on the list would you most like to see in person?

Our high school's marching band took a trip to Washington DC when I was a senior.  We got to take many tours, but we were also there as a statement to Congress not to close our local military base, Fort McClellan (they closed it anyway--jerks!).  I would love to go back and take all the tours again.  When we went through, it was so rushed and we were so tired from riding on a bus all night.  If I hadn't taken pictures, I wouldn't have remembered any of it. 

Other places I would like to see? San Francisco:  I want to see the Golden Gate Bridge and tour the shops and cultural sites.  San Antonio:  I want to take the river walk, eat the cuisine, and see the jazz bands along the way.  I'm going to make such a great tourist.

May is National Physical Fitness and Sports Month. If you had to participate in a single fitness activity for the next half hour, which activity would you choose?

From the National Museum of
American History

Well, bicycling, of course.  All this moving has kept me off the walking track and the bike trail as much as I would like to be.  I'm ready to get back on it more consistently.  There's going to be a lot of walks, runs, and bike rides the rest of this month.

What did you like best about the city, town, or neighborhood where you grew up?

I've written about "JackVegas" before.  There wasn't much to like about it as a kid.  As an adult, the new Community Center and the Chief Ladiga Trail are on the top of my list.

Insert your own random thought here.

1990 Jacksonville High School Golden Eagle Band in Washington DC.
I'm in the back somewhere...I am short, you know.

Y is for YMCA [A-Z Blog Challenge]

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Y

YMCA

Pulling into the parking lot, I see the nice cars lined up in the spaces; some with the little stick figure family decals (which I think are tacky simply because they are of no use to me).  Many of the vehicles even sport a bicycle rack (oh hoity toity).  I gaze at the well manicured grounds, smell the fresh paint, and hear the music coming from inside.  I think, “Oh Lord, what am I doing here?  I don’t belong here.”  Hesitantly, I step through the front door.  I’m greeted in the foyer by faces; some smiling, some looking like they’ve been sucking on a sour pickle for 14 years.  “Sigh.  I haven’t even said good morning, and the analysis has started already.”  Timidly, I go into the crowded main room.  Those familiar with the routine are exchanging pleasantries, giving a quick smile and nod my way.  A few more “pickles” are puckering up and nodding my way as if to say “What is SHE doing here?!  This is OUR place!  Who does she think she is?!”  I try to ignore their stares.  With shaking hands I hang up my jacket, pop in my headphones, and step onto the treadmill.  And so, the fight begins.

I’ve often heard it said that a church is the most judgmental place on earth.  Unfortunately, that is true in some cases.  However, I believe that the gym is an even more judgmental place. - Excerpt from my post "Mind Your Business." 

This superior attitude had been the majority of my experiences with working out in public.  I'd been to a couple of gyms that offered free trials before I signed on the dotted line.  They were all too intimidating and made me feel like I didn't belong.  Sorry, but I guess fitness clubs are for people to stand around and talk about how fit they already are, not to actually get fit  This was in the days before JackVegas built our new Community Center and before Planet Fitness and their "no gymtimidation" commercials.  That is, until I encountered the local YMCA.

 

When I was about 10 years old, my Girl Scout troop (shout out to troop 149 Cottaquilla Council) had a lock-in at the Calhoun County YMCA.  I know I was just a kid running around playing and eating junk food, but something about how nice people were stood out to me.  Years later, I decided to try a membership there.  They were great.  The Y is how all gyms should be:

• They had instructors who showed the proper way equipment should be used and would not move on to the next apparatus until they were sure you understood what you were doing..  No guesswork or injuries.
• They had fitness classes for every level with certified fitness instructors.  (There wasn't any Zumba back then, thank the Lord.)
• Anyone not there to workout was asked to leave.  I remember being in a cardio kickboxing class when a group of women came in, sat on the back row, and proceeded to watch, point, and laugh at us instead of participating with us.  The instructor promptly stopped the music and told them to either join in or leave.  They left.  No lunks, no spectators, no BS.  Thank you very much!
• There were no "club levels."  In other words, you weren't asked to get off of a piece of equipment because you weren't in a particular workout group or socioeconomic class.  Been there, done that, you can keep it.

I worked out there for a good long while and had a great time.  It was the first place where I actually looked forward to working out and had fun in the process.  Financial difficulties were the only reason I gave up my membership. 

 

I visited the Y this past month for a running clinic and orthotics demonstration.  There was more of the same cheerful and accepting attitude.  There will always be a special place in my heart for the Y.

 

 





 

 

For more information on the A-Z Blog Challenge, go to:

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

P is for P.A.R.D. [A-Z Blog Challenge]

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P.A.R.D. 

 

Jacksonville Community Center / Parks & Recreations Department

 

When I was a kid, JackVegas' Parks and Recreations Department (PARD) was a little ramshackle building where the rich kids went to sign up for baseball and softball every summer.  My side of town had its own dilapidated Rec Center where hoodlums and perverts hung out to harass us or beat us up.  As the years went on, I got tired of being harassed and beaten up, so I stopped going to "our" center.  Since my parents weren't rich and I wasn't good enough to play softball anyway, I never went to the "official" Rec Center. 

After we all grew up, the buildings became uninhabitable, and my town finally figured out that legal segregation ended in 1964, a "one for all" Community Center and Parks and Recreations Department was built.  When news of the build reached my ears, I was very doubtful that it would be a place I would actually be welcome.

I can't even remember exactly when or exactly who told me about the center's indoor walking track, but somehow I was convinced to take my 250+ pound fanny upstairs and walk.  At first, walking a mile was difficult, but eventually, I walked more and more miles, being encouraged by the staff all the way.  Last year, not only did I take a "Couch to 5k" running clinic, but I also started using the rest of the fitness facilities (long live the elliptical machine).  I've also made several friends and found accountability partners there.  Instead of feeling out of place, I feel like family, especially when the staff actually misses me when I'm not there.

If I ever meet my fitness goals and go on to become a certified fitness trainer, I hope to be able to give back to the community by being an instructor at the Center.  Y'all better watch out for Auntie the Trainer!





 

For more information on the A-Z Blog Challenge, go to:

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

Five Minute Friday: "Paint"

Thanks to Lisa-Jo Baker at Five Minute Friday for the prompts.

 

GO!

I learned to paint in the late 90's.  A sweet lady named Margaret owned a paint shop on our city square where she gave inexpensive painting classes.  She taught me to paint with watercolors, acrylics, and oils.  I like all three, but my favorite medium to work with is acrylics.  The colors are bold and beautiful like oil paints.  However, unlike oil paints, it doesn't take days and days for them to dry. 

Mrs. Margaret awakened in me a talent I didn't even know I had.  Like music, it took a kind and patient teacher to bring it out. 

Painting transports me to another world.  Whether its the woods, a snowy mountain, or at a lighthouse in Hawaii, painting had taken me further than I've ever physically travelled.  I long for a day when I can visit beautiful places and create paintings that remind me of the good times I had.

TIME'S UP!

My latest painting

H is for Homer Smith [A-Z Blog Challenge]

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Homer Smith

 

Mr. Homer Smith

I joined my county's community band in the fall of 2012.  The first time I attended practice, I got the pleasant surprise of being greeted by my high school band director, Homer Smith.  I hadn't seen him since I graduated from Jacksonville High School more than 20 years ago (has it been THAT long?  Have mercy!). His presence made me smile, but it also made me remember...

 

I started taking percussion lessons in 10th grade (I was 15).  I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and neither did Mr. Smith.  I was afraid he would be like many of my other teachers who had used my appearance and obvious vision difficulties as a means to embarrass me.  Other than enlarging copies of my music, no further mention was made.  I never heard the words you can't do that in his class, nor later on the marching field.   I'm sure that my first attempts at drumming made Mr. Smith question his career choice and I'm probably the reason his hair greyed so early, but his patient instruction and constant encouragement made me hungry to learn more and more about music.

 

My first marching season

I won't go into deep details about the initial difficulties I had my first marching season, but I will say that Mr. Smith could have easily put me in a quiet little corner and never allowed me to march at all, but he didn't.  You see, as far as we've been able to figure, I am the first female to every march snare drum at our high school.  Let's just say the alpha males didn't relish the thought of a girl being in "their" drumline.  Even now, playing snare seems to be a "dudes only" club in most high schools and colleges.  Fortunately, my high school alma mater isn't one of them.

 

Playing in the Community Band

In recovery, as well as in certain types of therapy/counseling, behavior redirection is a technique used for behavior modification.   One redirects a negative behavior by substituting it with a positive one.  Until I started drumming, I had no outlet for creativity--nothing I could pour myself into.  Even though I had made a decision for Christ a year earlier, I was still very bitter and full of anger.  Playing drums was very therapeutic for me.  Without knowing it, Mr. Smith's investment in me kept me in school until graduation.  He also gave me something to live for and look forward to.  What do I mean?  No matter how the kids treated me, no matter what was going on with me at home, no matter whether the other teachers wanted me around or not, last period was where I could strap on my drum and bang out all my frustrations and stresses of the day--turning a negative into a positive.  Plus, Friday always came.  For two football seasons, I may have been a freak, a nerd, and Shamu the Killer Whale during the week, but on Friday nights, I was one of the cool kids on the field and no one could take it away from me.  And you know what?  Because of the community band, THEY STILL CAN'T.  Thanks, Mr. Smith for being a hero!

 

For more information on the A-Z Blog Challenge, go to:

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

My Recovery Story: An Audio Blog

Tonight, I shared my story with the Jacksonville, Alabama Celebrate Recovery.  I would like to share with you: 

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/29899706/CR%20Testimony%202014.mp3

It may take a few minutes to load, so please be patient.  I hope it blesses you. 

Love,

Auntie

Auntie vs. the Bicycle: Round 4

I've been trying some new things with my cycling workouts.  I mentioned in an earlier post about trying a very good online spinning workout.  I even tried a ride at the Henry Farm trail with my friends Carmine and Susan.  Stupid me thought is was just another paved offshoot of the Ladiga Trail.  It's not; it's a mountain bike trail full of hills, rocks, and trees with their accompanying tree stumps.  After losing my water bottle, nearly hitting a tree (more than once), almost breaking the handlebars off the bike, and falling more distance than I was riding, I decided to put this on the "not again" list.  Carmine kept encouraging me, saying it was because of my bike (in the process I finished warping my back tire--a fact I didn't notice until months later).  I keep telling him that he could put me on the most expensive high-end mountain bike and I would still suck at the trail.  Susan kept telling him to get me off the trail before he killed me.  Oh well, the fun with my friends was worth the failure.

If you've been keeping up with my previous cycling/spinning adventures, you'll remember in Round 3, my friend Tamara and I started riding the Ladiga Trail whenever her schedule allowed.  Therein is the problem.  Tamara is a very busy wife and mom who home-schools her son, and travels frequently with her husband's job.  Because she was the one with the bike hitch (and later a bike I could borrow that didn't have a wobbly back wheel from aforementioned trip to Henry Farm), my rides have been at the mercy of her availability.

Anyone who knows me well recognizes that I do not like being too dependent on other people.  I don't want to be too clingy or inadvertently use people like I did in my 20's.  Fear of that happening again made me really antsy to find a bike hitch that fits my car and a bike without a warped wheel.  In my search for a hitch, the guy from one of our local bike shops said he might have one that fit a Honda Accord...for around $150!  This is the same guy who tried to sell me a $55 stationary trainer for over $300.  No thank you.  I found one online, but was hesitant to order it due to ever-tightening budget constraints.  So I just prayed about it and waited.

Cut to this weekend at the annual Honduras Medical Missions Trip yard/rummage sale fundraiser at my church.  Friday, I went by and looked around for a bargain.  I saw a treadmill, but the price was little more than I could spend.  One of the guys from CR told me to come back on Saturday because everything would be half price.  Sounded good to me.  I went back Saturday...and the treadmill was GONE!  Oh well.  So, I looked around for something else.  I found a bicycle that looked to be in pretty good shape.  The tires were flat, but they were also brand new (they still had the little rubber nubs on the sides).  It was only a few dollars, so I took a chance.  In the process of arranging for someone to bring the bike to my place, one of the guys told me that there was a universal bike carrier for sale.  WHAT?!  So I bought it and the guys attached it to the trunk of my car.  It fit just fine.  Well ain't that God at work?

After a little tweaking to the bike (switching out the 'naner seat that felt like my taint was slamming against a plank, with the seat from "wobbly," and raising the handlebars so I don't have steer with my knees) I hooked her up and planned for a Sunday evening ride.

It was so freeing to go out to the trail without having to wait on anyone and without them having to wait for me to catch up with them.  For safety, I check in and out with my friends through social media or texts.  I have several local friends who would rescue me (or bail me out of jail if I had to jack up someone for bothering me on trail).  I rode a leisurely 4.5 miles to try it out and it was glorious.  I also snapped a few pictures and saw some nice stopping spots what will be gorgeous once the spring blooms pop out.  I can't wait to get out there again, but right now, it's raining.

Auntie 4;  Bicycle 0

Auntie vs. the Bicycle: Round 3

The first outdoor ride.

As you will recall in round two, I finally found a way to ride my bicycle indoors.  Indoor training is fine, but the awesome fall we had here in Alabama, plus the warm days that are always sprinkled within a Southern winter made me long to find a way to get out on the Chief Ladiga Trail. (As you learned in round one, biking on the fair streets of JackVegas is OUT.)  I searched for a bike hitch but the closest I could find fit a Honda Civic, but not a Honda Accord.  WTC?  As I continue the search, I must remind myself that a bike hitch is still much cheaper than a pickup truck.

Enter, stage right, my friend Tamara.  She and a few of us from Sav-A-Life were taking a walk together when a conversation about bicycling commenced.  Our other friend --I'll not throw Mikki under the bus by mentioning her name :) -- said she was afraid of the tushy pain of bike riding (wuss weenie).  Well, Tamara said she had no such qualms, plus she had a pickup truck WITH a bike hitch.  Hallalujah!  So, we set up a time to get together and ride.

Park in Weaver

I honestly don't remember how far we biked the first time, but I was immediately hooked and was hungry for more.  Finally, something GOOD to be addicted to.  I do remember that I kept asking Tamara if she was being nice by biking more slowly to help me keep up with her--I believe my exact words were "Are you messing with me?"  She said no, but I didn't believe her until we were headed back and I took off like a shot and left her in the dust--thus her nickname for me; Rabbit.  I didn't mean to, but it was so exhilarating seeing all my indoor training turn into real road miles.  Just as a side note:  in all of my indoor training I had no way of knowing how far I was riding, just how long.  A bike computer/odometer is on my wish list.

Early in November, Tamara's husband, Scot, their son, Jonathan, and their two crazy dogs, Bear and Lexy joined our bike team and we upped our degree of difficulty.  I was kind of scared that failure was coming because I felt like my other rides were adrenaline infused and the excitement drove the distance; not strength or fitness level.  However, that was not the case.  A few times we rode to the park in Weaver and back (about 10.5 miles).  We did an 11 mile ride heading north towards Piedmont, which passes by Germania Springs Park in Jacksonville.  I swear that ride is uphill both ways--and there wasn't even any snow!  The topper was riding from our community center--our normal starting point--all the way to the Alabama end of the trail in Anniston (12 miles round trip). To ride all that way made me feel accomplished, like a real athlete.  Now, when I climbed off the bike I was an athlete with a sore butt doing the Fred Sanford walk, but still an athlete.

Now that Scottish winter has set in here in 'Bama (Alba Gu Brath, y'all), I will have to be content with my one woman, '80's music spinning parties with an occasional outdoor trek.  I can't wait for spring!  Who knows?  When I can finally get a bike hitch (or a pickup truck) and more training, I may ride the length of the entire trail (about 33 miles).  Just be prepared to come get me; that will probably be a one way trip.

Auntie: 3, Bicycle: 0  HAZZAH!

Cue the music after I get off the bike.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?: The Weekly Hodgepodge.

Shout out to From This Side of the Pond for the Hodgepodge questions.

Describe a typical Sunday from your childhood.

A typical Sunday morning in my teen years consisted of getting up, eating breakfast, and going to Church.  After church, I headed home and settled down my room in front of the radio to hear Casey Casem's "America's Top 40" radio broadcast.  I loved 80's music (still do), and couldn't wait to hear little tidbits about the artists and songs.  Sunday evenings were spent at evening church service, then home to do any unfinished homework, eat dinner, watch a little TV (If Mom and Dad were watching something I wanted to watch--I didn't have my own TV) read, or listen to music, then off to bed.

How comfortable are you with uncertainty? Explain.

It depends on the type of uncertainty.  I understand that I can't know everything or plan for the unplanned, but I don't like having a future that is so up in the air and interdependent on so many external factors.  I'd like to be more of a captain of my own destiny.  I can trust God with my future-- I'm just not sure I can trust me with it.

What have you accomplished recently that might be described as crafty, as in 'arts and crafts' crafty?  If crafty doesn't work for you, how about handy? Or both?

I'm a crafter, so I've always got something brewing.  I recently finished crocheting a doll dress (pictured here) and a painting of cherries and pansies in pitchers (I forgot to photograph it before I donated it).  I've got several other projects going, so if I don't get in too big of a hurry, I'll have pictures to post later.

Have you ever worked in a 'food place'? What did you take away from the experience?

I worked at the now defunct Hardees in Piedmont, Alabama one summer in 1993 or 1994.  I learned (1) I hope I never have to do it again--it's a food addict's nightmare (it's like an alcoholic working at the liquor store) (B) I don't know what I hate more, dealing with the drive through window, or dealing with rednecks in the drive through window (I did mention this was Piedmont right?), and (3) I learned that I was never so ready for fall classes to start my entire post secondary education.

Cold turkey, talk turkey, what a turkey...in recent days, which turkey phrase or idiom best applies to you and why? Click on the word turkey if you need to read more about the meaning behind each phrase.

Neither, really.   And, no, not Wild Turkey either.  **grin**

If you could have any one guest join your Thanksgiving dinner table, who would it be?

Evangeline Pate, my best friend from high school who took me to church and introduced me to Christ.  I haven't seen or heard from her since she moved away when I was 15.  I owe her so much for not only being a great friend and loving me into the Kingdom of God, but she's also one of the reasons I wanted to learn to play drums and march in the band.  I wish I could find her, but have had no success.  If she's married, I do not know what her married name is. 

What is one thing you must accomplish today?

There's nothing I must accomplish today.  There are lots of things I would like to accomplish.  Hmmm...it's not really a must, but I would like to do well in Choir practice.

Insert your own random thought here.

You know me, when I can't think of something to say, I share a video.  BTW--song #3 is my favorite.  :) 

Blog Challenge Day 29: Toy Story

Blog challenge is from Can I Get Another Bottle of Whine

 

Day 29:  What were your three favorite toys/games as a child?

• My first bicycle.
• The Somersault Dog:  I think I was about five when I got this toy.  You wound it up and it would bark as it walked and sat down.  Then, all of a sudden, it would stop barking and do a back flip.  That was the funniest thing.  I wonder if they still make those?
• The baby doll.  I only received one baby doll as a child that I remember.  I was five or six and I found out the hard way that just because a doll has black hair and brown skin, you can't do her hair like a little back girl.  The minute hair grease touched that doll's head, it was never right again.  By the time I finally threw that doll away when I was bout 30 years old, her hair was, of course, ruined, she had one eye that wouldn't close when you laid her down, and she wouldn't wet anymore when you fed her water from her bottle.  She was a hot mess!

Blog Challenge Day 24: Workin' It.

Blog challenge is from Can I Get Another Bottle of Whine

 

Day 24:  Describe your first job.

It was the summer of 1988 when I was 16.  I was a helper at the old Jacksonville Senior Citizen's Center (now a parking lot on the square).  During activity time my job was to assist the participants.  This mostly amounted to being asked, "Hey, girl, come'ere and play Uno with us!"  That was the easy fun part of the job.  In the afternoons, I helped clean up the activity area and the dining hall.  The only part of the job I didn't look forward to was riding along to help deliver meals on wheels.  Most everyone was nice, but we had a "cat lady" to deliver to--her house was "hoarders" nasty because she let the dozens of cats just go potty wherever they wanted (no litter boxes that I could see), plus she dipped snuff (yep, spit cups on display), plus, she didn't have any air conditioning, but kept her windows closed.  Now look, I've been a preschool teacher and cleaned a LOT of dirty bottoms, watched MANY kids eat boogers or hurl, and mopped up GALLONS of pee, puke, poop, and other solids liquids and gasses, but this was the only job that actually made me gag!  Now that's saying something.

I left the job at the end of the summer when band camp started.  I'm so glad that my first job experience was a positive one.  All of the great people I spent time with have all passed on and I miss them.  It was such a great summer.

Auntie vs. the Bicycle: Round 2

As you will recall in round one, I was blessed with a bicycle, but had a little trouble trying to ride it outdoors.  If you don't recall, feel free to click the link and read it right quick.  Even with all the issues with my first attempts at riding, I really enjoyed it and wanted to find an alternative.  So, I got on the internet and did a few searches.

I found out that I could get a stationary trainer to ride the bike indoors.  Hmm, sounds like a plan.  I can ride inside all I want and when the occasion arises, it's easy to detach the bike so I can ride outside.  There's a bicycle shop close by, so I stopped by there to ask about a trainer.  They had one...for almost $300!  And that didn't even include the $30 stabilizing block to level the front tire (what fool is going to ride without one?).  Back to the 'net I go.

Well, Amazon.com to the rescue.  I found a stationary trainer WITH the stabilizing block for less than 1/4 the price of the other one (including shipping, thank you).  Now, I am very persnickety when it comes to ordering anything unfamiliar online.  Even if the price looks good, I scour the reviews for any potential problems.  Other than the reviewers saying it was noisy, there weren't any apparent problems with it.  So, I ordered one. 

While I waited for the box to arrive, I looked up some websites about spinning and cycling and got some great information.  By the time it arrived, I was pee-in-my-pants excited (I'm already thinking one woman 80's disco spinning party).  I opened the box, took out the contents, and looked at the instructions, and looked at the instructions, and looked at the instructions.  The pictures on the instructions were black and white, blurry, and absolutely no help.  The written instructions weren't much better.  I knew I was in trouble when saw that they had spelled tire with a "Y" (tyre?).  Luckily there were video instructions for this very trainer on YouTube.  Ah, now it makes perfect sense...until it got to the part about replacing the quick release skewer with the skewer the trainer came with.  Rut-roh!  When I figured out what a quick release skewer was, I also found out that not all bikes have them, including mine.  Double rut-roh.  That little tidbit was nowhere near in the product description or the reviews.

Fortunately, there is another bike shop even nearer by.  I muscled as much of the bike into my trunk as possible, put the trainer in the front seat, and headed off (praying that the cops wouldn't find my Honda "pickup truck" a hazard).  I told the guy at the shop that I needed a back tire with a skewer.  Instead of just putting on a new tire and charging me who knows how much, he tried out the bike on the trainer as it was.  Turns out that the coupling on the trainer fits the bolts on the bike's back wheel just fine without any modifications.  Since I didn't have to buy anything, I tried to give the shop owner some money for his troubles; he would only take half of what I gave him.  Classy.


So, I packed part and parcel back into my makeshift pickup and headed home to set up for my first ride.  My intention was to only go for a 15 minute ride.  Well, let's just say after the song "Born to Be Wild" got me started, and "Crank it Up" started the sweat machine, I forgot about the time and rode for 30 minutes, changing gears at different times to see how they felt. 

When I got off the bike, I felt great...all but my derriere.  Anyone who says that cycling or spinning is a low impact aerobic activity never did it with a trunk without enough junk, if you know what I mean.  :)

I've been on several rides, and can't wait to do more.  I've got to get my playlist ready for the 80's disco spinning party!

Auntie: 2,  Bicycle: 0

 

Auntie vs. the Bicycle: Round 1

I still remember my first bicycle.  It was a purple/maroon color with a white seat and training wheels.  It was the best Christmas EVAR (O.K. I was six years old at the time, cut me some slack).  I thought at first that I would never get the hang of riding well enough to get Daddy to take off the training wheels (stabilizers for my UK friends).  I'd ride, and fall, and ride, and crash, and ride, and scrape my knee/elbow/face/back etc... all without too much ceremony.  Frustrated wasn't the word for it; mad enough to cry was more like it, but I did eventually get the hang of it and wore the training wheels slap out.  One problem:  though the wheels were so worn that they didn't even touch the ground anymore, Daddy still wouldn't remove them.  So, one day while my dad was gone, his best friend took mine and his son's training wheels off.  Sneaky, I know, but I got what I wanted without getting into trouble with my parents.

Ever since I learned to zoom on two wheels, I've always enjoyed bicycling.  No matter what size I was, I could always at least ride around the block or up the street a piece.  As much as I like riding, I've only owned three bikes in my lifetime:  the first one I just described, a blue one I got when I was ten, and a green mountain bike I got my senior year of college (I sold it the minute  I got a car).  The bike my dad found in the trash that didn't have any back brakes, that I nearly broke my neck on the few times I rode it does not count!

Thanks to a blessing from friends, I now have bike #4, which happens to be a purple/maroon color.  Coincidence?  I THINK NOT! (da-dum!).  I also have a helmet that fits (a blessing in itself since I have a big head and thick hair), a water bottle and holder, and a whistle (in lieu of a bike horn).  I've had the bike for couple of weeks, but scheduling and weather have kept me from riding.  But today, I was ready.

My plan was to put the bike in the trunk of my car, bungee the trunk down, and take the bike to the Ladiga Trail, ride a while, and drive it all back home.  Perfect plan...until I tried to put the bike in the trunk.  Now granted, I'm not good at physics and spatial relations are difficult for me.  However, since my bass guitar won't fit in the trunk of my Honda Accord, why the Sam Hill did I think a bicycle would fit?  (Lord, help!). 

So, on to Plan B, which was to ride the bike down Gardner Drive in Jacksonville to Church Avenue and back (about 2 miles).  I would consider the ride a success, but I need a different plan.  This plan has several problems:

Problem 1:  I got hallway through the ride and realized I'd forgotten my helmet!  WTC?!  Never again.

Problem 2:  Because I wasn't on the trail, but on a public road, I didn't feel safe (even before I realized I didn't have my helmet).  I white knuckled it the whole ride.  My hands still hurt.  I'm going to have to save up for a bike hitch for my car (or a pickup truck), so I can take the bike on the trail to get more proficient at this.  I wish we had bike lanes on our roads like they have in California.  I know, don't EVEN say it.  :) 

Problem 3:  The ride down was great because the road slightly declines.  So that means that the ride back was on a slight incline.  I did make it all the way back to the old Eastwood School (about a block from where I live) before I had to get off the bike and walk it the rest of the way.  I need more practice at balancing myself and gaining better stability on the bike (where are those bloody stabilizers, gov'ner?).  I also need practice on how and when to change gears on the bike.  I was going to try to gear up the bike to better handle the incline, but couldn't remember how and I didn't dare look down and take my focus off the road.

All in all, a good first attempt.

Auntie: 1  Bicycle:  0

When Auntie First Got Her Groove: 30-Day Blog Challenge, Day 14

A picture you love.  [Blog Challenge:  Day 14]

 

This picture was taken in the fall of 1988 when I was a Junior in high school.  It was my first season of marching band.  You would think that a picture I love wouldn't be one taken during a time when I was very unhealthy and, quite frankly, I looked a hot mess.  As you can see, I'm practically stuffed into that hot as hades, butt ugly uniform, I have a Jherri Curl, and I'm wearing one of the ugliest pairs of glasses I've ever owned.  So, why do I like this picture?

 

It's not how I looked that mattered; it's what this time in my life meant to me.  Then is when my lifelong love of being a musician started.  Then is when I finally looked forward to going to school every day.  Then is when I found my niche--I had something special that no amount of bullying (even from the rest of the drumline) could take way.  Then is when I found my little corner of happiness.  No matter how the rest of my day at school went, I just had to make it to sixth period so I could strap on my snare drum and be somebody.  Then is when the "cool" kids could say anything about me they wanted and it didn't phase me.  After all, every Friday I WAS a cool kid:  I was at every football game, sat in the best seats in the stadium, and hit the field at halftime for the whole crowd to see.  The other kids couldn't do what I did.  Ha ha!  Take that, beauty queens!  Beauty is fleeting, but drumline is forever!

 

{I'm linking up with So, Funny Story http://ktslifeisfunny.blogspot.com for this 30 day  blog challenge.}