Workouts can be fun…. But when?

These entries are reposted from my Facebook. Some folks aren’t on my Facebook for whatever reason and still read my blog. I have made a commitment to myself to get out and do more even if I’m alone. My knee replacement is not doing well and I decided to heck with it! I’m not waiting to feel better. I’m going to live this life that I have left hurting or not. I’ve hurt all my life so this is just another day in it. No one gets to leave alive so I’m going down swinging. BUT! I didn’t say I wouldn’t whine along the way. lol    So here are my hiking adventures. 

August 3.        I did it!!!! This has been a goal for me since I had the knee replacement. I’ve asked several people to go with me over the past year and for one reason or another no one accepted the invitation. Last night I decided to throw a wider net and see if anyone else wanted to go. NOPE…. So, off I went, alone. BEST DECISION EVER! I went at my pace. I spent time in the quiet beauty that Lula Lake has to offer. I learned I can get a yearly pass and go anytime without a reservation! That has been another issue that has held me back. I’m looking forward to exploring the other trails. Chronic pain be damned I’m stepping out. I figure I’m going to hurt whether I enjoy the day or not so why not have fun?   (I did get the yearly pass!)

August 10      Today’s hike is brought to you by Durham Mine Trails and MUSHROOMS!   (This entry had multiple photos)

August 17       Today’s hike brought to you by the word STAIRS. Anyone who has ever visited Cloudland Canyon knows about the stairs. I first went to the big falls to the left….yep, some stairs. Over to Hemlock Falls….yep, stairs. Then from Hemlock I went down just past where Stittons Gulch starts. DOWN DOWN DOWN.  I’ve never been past this portion of the trail but knew I didn’t have 5 more miles in me at this point. I had to get back to the car somehow. Lol. From this point I counted the grated stairs up. Not the rocks or wood ties but just the ones with the grates….. 586 stairs later I was at the car. Off to my bff’s to soak in the pool a minute, then home to mow the yard. I’m pretty sure it is at least 7pm right now but the clock says 3p. My body says it is 61 and I’ve lost my mind! Time for somebody to bring me some dinner because the protein bar and Reese cups are gone and I can’t move :) I, at least, showered! LOL

August 24      I’m not BLUFFING when I say it has been a wonderfully exhausting day. I hiked the bluffs that are Sunset Rock, Cravens Trail to the Cravens house and back. The end of April when I was there last, was when this sciatic nerve pain started. I have had mornings that I almost hit the floor when I put my foot down. I’ve been needled, massaged, stretched, exercised and had tons of heat/soak therapy. After seeing the neurologist Tuesday I am scheduled for an MRI. Ya’ll know I can’t do those without drugs so my bff will be taking my drunk self 😜  But today the pain was all knee. I didn’t give up! I did every step. My goal is to trek out to Covenant College. This was hike four in four weeks. I will be missing the next two weekends but back at it afterward. Big Daddy came and got me and we put in 140 mile dinner ride. The weather has been wonderful today and the ride always good:)

August 31  Today I fell for the FALLS. I had planned on taking the next two weeks off from hiking BUT I was too close to this gem to let it go. I went up the mountain on the East Ridge Trail and down the 650 steps!!! My knee was NOT happy and was screaming at me that I was an idiot. My heart rate going up the mountain was laughing and trying to get out of my chest. This wasn’t the longest hike so far but according to my watch it is the hardest. Packed a big punch in a short distance. That and I only rested once. I stopped long enough to take the photos and moved along. I came home, mowed the yard, continued the laundry, soaked, cooked a meal and now I may just die. Next week….the terrain will look MUCH different. 😉.  Be sure and have your volume on for the videos:)

Sept 6        bungeeeeeee day in Florida what a cool alternative to the bluffs, waterfalls and trails…. And the walks on the beach were nice!!

Sept 14       Today’s hike is brought to you by the word COVENANT. As I walked across the state (line), the word and different meanings of covenant was what I pondered. With the crazy happenings, people, places and things this week, I of course, thought of Charlie Kirk and thought about his covenant with God. A covenant is a profound relationship of mutual promises, commitments and oaths according to AI. Covenants are not pinky promises but a deep and abiding commitment. I believe Charlie’s covenant with God was real. Just as I believe any Christian’s covenant with God is real. Thankfully, it is between that person and God and is a personal relationship. Like a marriage covenant, no one else comes between the two or the promises are broken. I believe Charlie had a covenant with Erika that was witnessed the day they married. They held tight to that and considered it sacred as far as I know. Again, promises between entities. As sacred and formal as covenants are, unfortunately, there are times they have been broken. I am an example of that as well. I haven’t always been what I promised God I would be. I also ended marriages. I am thankful for restitution and grace above all. My covenant with God can only dissipate if I choose to walk away. I’m not going anywhere other than down another dusty trail. Can you see where this trail headed today? I made it to Covenant College! (Btw one can see Covenant Transport on the hike)  The hike wasn’t bad at all and I was saved by a Rhino:) THANKS BIG DADDY! My apprehension was making it to the college and not being able to make it back to my car, since a little over four miles have been my standard hike. I didn’t know about the severity of the trail so Ryan met me at the college. Off we went on the motorcycle for a 155 mile run and some lunch. FYI the trail was moderate and I could have easily made it back. The hard part would have been the climb back up to sunset rock where I had parked. I’m becoming quite the afficianado on hiking trails. lol Next weekend……not sure where I will be heading. Any suggestions? Until then, think of the word covenant. What does it mean to you? Do you have one with a spouse? Do you have one with God?

Blaze, inferno, wildfire, energize, rekindle, reenergize

I’ve been thinking about the word “fire”. The definition of fire is: a phenomenon of combustion, manifested in light, flame and heat. The slang definition is something that is exciting, outstanding or gaining popularity quickly. Metaphorically, fire is used to express several of our most basic concepts: life and death, power and the lack of control, and several of our more intense and active emotions. 

I have decided, I am fire. I’ve laughed about being “sparkle, pixie dust, glitter, A LOT” and I have been trying to see myself as others do and the word fire keeps popping in my brain. Looking at these definitions I see myself in each one. LIGHT, EXCITING, POWER AND LACK OF CONTROL, INTENSE EMOTIONS. 

I understand some people like to stand close to the flame. It warms them. It represents light for them. Some are afraid to stand too close to the fire as the flame will burn. It can mesmerize and draw one in and before one knows it, they have fallen and burned. Playing with fire can be exciting and fun for a while. Eventually, it will need to be stoked or it will burn itself out. Fire can only do what it is supposed to do when fed the appropriate things. I feel as if this is very apropos when looking at myself and my life. I am fire. 

The way the flames flicker haphazardly licking the air in no semblance of order. Yet, it is doing what it is supposed to do. It is acting the way it was designed by The Creator. The fireworks that happen when the chef sprinkles salt on the flames could be seen as a perfect pairing for excitement. Yet, salt on its own is sharp. It is a seasoning and not a bad thing to the fire. It is just something that doesn’t last. I am fire.

Many people are afraid of fire. The damage fire can leave behind is undeniable. It is evident when a fire has swept through. It leaves its mark. One knows without a doubt fire has been there. The smolder, the ash, the smell, all tell tale signs. A fire must be totally extinguished or a smoldering flame can come back to life when least expected. Once it is totally extinguished it can no longer give warmth, give light, give excitement. One must decide if they will need that fire before killing it and sometimes it is quenched just as it is realized doing so was a mistake. I am fire. 

A campfire can be soothing to those around. It can represent life. I can also represent death. Fire is an oxymoron. It can cause an infatuation. An arsonist can be obsessed with it. There is a zest to be near it. An intenseness that one can feel when lost in it. Excitement that is indescribable can be felt from within. Bonfires are often used during parties for this reason. I am fire. 

Fire can be good or bad depending on how it is used. Using it in a malicious way can have a far reaching consequence. Yet, using it in a responsible way can change your world. If used appropriately one can reap numerous rewards. It has to be respected. It has to be fed. It has to be appreciated for what it is. It can be intense but worth the intensity. It can be powerful when  left alone or when harnessed. I AM FIRE!

Observations from Guam

     If you are an animal lover, Guam is a tough place to visit. The island is overrun with dogs they call boonies. These animals are wild and are derived from the dogs that have been left by their owners who for whatever reason didn’t take them when they left the island. These boonies are everywhere. Sadly, the shelters can’t handle and they all need to be spayed or neutered. If I were a rich woman I would gather as many of these precious babies as I could each day and have them fixed and fed. Imagine a dog in the rainy season and the hot summer season searching for food and shelter their entire lives. It is totally heartbreaking.

    Many of us would love to live on a tropical island but the prices! MY WORD! Thankfully, my family lives on base and can shop there on the base. Off base is expensive. Base also doesn’t have everything all the time so you learn to live frugally for sure. My daughter is a pro at this, as we all know the military doesn’t pay premium dollar for sure. She has been pinching for years so this is already a way of life for them. Two big kiwi at the off base store were $17.99 and strawberries $12.99 for 18 berries! Insane for sure. My food mommy brain was working overtime trying to figure out how the locals were able to feed their families at all. 

       A small two bedroom, one bath house for sale, $465,000! I would have to squeeze four families in for that price. But the problem would be where everyone would stand because it would be wall to wall people. No sitting allowed and definitely no furniture. A lot of the houses looked very poor and I understand why. No one could afford to have shelter AND eat. It was one or the other on that choice scale.

    Everyone, and I mean, EVERYONE was so nice. Not just Taylor’s friends but everyone on the island. The cashier at Kmart, waiters and waitresses, vendors at the market, all were friendly and accommodating. Haifa Adai is how you are greeted routinely. Everyone smiles and are without a doubt on “island time”. Laid back, Jimmy Buffet style….lol. I was greeted with hugs from so many people. Many could learn lessons and incorporate this into daily living. There were absolutely ZERO political signs nor talk there. It was as if I had stepped into heaven for sure. 

    Think of the Ross at Hamilton Place. Multiply that footprint by five and that is the size of the smallest Ross there. (There are three) Deals like crazy and more crowded than a first of the month weekend at Walmart. The checkout line continuously moves but is at least 1/4 mile long. I am NOT exaggerating. It was intimidating. No less than 20 registers running and with every cashier a smile! I felt like I was in a time warp. 

    Each gas station we passed, gas was $5.09. Not a single variation regardless of the location on the island. We discussed where you decide to get gas as you don’t frequent the “lowest” priced station. They stay within their village and support their local store. Ahhhh, the lessons we could learn. 

    Our Mexican food here in the south is more Tex-Mex. Guam’s is more Spanish. It’s all good to me so no complaints there for sure. The chips aren’t put on the table like they are here. They are more of a side dish on your plate. They are also thicker and heartier than chips here. I did see one downfall….PEPSI! Thankfully, carbonated drinks are no longer a problem for me.

    There is no such thing as personal space. Me, being a single female, I always try to be aware of my surroundings and listen for my inner voice. I was quite uncomfortable a few times and my anxiety would start to get me. Taylor explained that the majority of those not respecting space were Japanese and they are so closed in and packed tight over there they don’t understand the concept of personal space. There is little crime there. They keep their hands to themselves and don’t take things that don’t belong to them. Again, more lessons. 

    The Asian population has that wonderfully, beautiful porcelain skin because they stay completely covered head to toe at the beach. We coined a new term…..sweggins…These are leggings they swim in. Not to mention the long sleeve shirt, light jacket, and hat with a brim wide enough to cover their shoulders. They were all together as families there too. They didn’t helicopter over their children either. Taylor said it isn’t unusual for them to just walk off and if the kids don’t follow they just don’t. I watched this first hand at the market. It was crazy to watch. We are so suspect of everyone here and they are so community oriented. They don’t worry about people hurting them or their kids. 

    If you don’t know what Calamansi juice is or Taro look it up. These are my two new favorite things. Calamansi juice is soooooo good. I’ve always been picky about food and drink and I promised myself I would try anything my kids suggested. My kids know what disgusts me on that front so I trusted them. I would be a Calamansi drunk I’m afraid and would gain ten tons eating taro pancakes. I thought the pancakes were blueberry but knew they tasted different than blueberries. I’m glad I was wrong. They were better than blueberry and I say that apprehensively because ya’ll know I love me some blues.  

    Many of my photos were from beach days. The most awesome thing about those days was each beach was different. Different sand, different color water, different atmosphere, I have some great sand, awesome sea glass and beautiful shells I brought back….illegally, but here I am calling myself out. I was telling my daughter that as beautiful as the water was ,it reminded me of Key West but different. If ever anyone visits the Keys I’m sure they had the same reaction as I. The first statement I made to my mama was “I know where they got the term ‘sea foam green’”. In Guam it is “sea foam blue”. It is where the color palette changes from just barely not green and barely not blue but amazingly beautiful. 

    We also have a National Park there at Guam. That was news to me but probably not to the my history buffs. I really was glad to get to tour the War in The Pacific National Park. I learned about the history of the war there and how those men fought hard to ensure the Chamorro people continued to thrive. Had they been left under Japanese rule at that time, it would have been a culture sadly lost. Thankfully, history has evolved and Japan is now an ally. Knowing the USA is there in the region working together with the Chamorros they can rest assured their culture will remain. 

    I understand why my daughter never wants to leave. I wouldn’t want to leave either. The trip is brutal on the body and I’m thankful I was physically able. Emotionally, well, that’s always a question in my world. LOL Twenty hours is a long span and crossing every time zone is daunting but I would do it again next week if I could. I am more appreciative of FaceTime every day and don’t know how long distance mamas did it before technology. Those were some strong women! 

    If ever the opportunity arises to visit Guam, jump at the chance. If you need a travel agent to help you along the way, my daughter is the go to girl! Palau is the next Micronesian region I would like to visit as I hear it is even more beautiful. I don’t think that possible and I may never see it but there is a goal. Actually, let’s look at going to Japan, Philippines, Australia, Bali, Indonesia, Europe……. The possibilities are endless!

Surgiversary 14 December 27, 2024

 It’s here! Surgiversary FOURTEEN. This blog was started 14 years ago when I tired of answering the same questions over and over and then over again. This is a check in with info and numbers. There is no fun, crazy weird stories today. Just the info to keep me accountable and forthcoming as that’s how this blog started. So much has changed in those 14 years in the world of bariatrics but many things are the same. 

The taste of protein has definitely changed. I think I have PTSD from those early days of stringy, gross Isopure protein drinks. People have played around and developed so many good recipes that I would have never thought I would be entertaining a smoothie with that stuff. If you are looking for an excellent quick one, try this: Premiere vanilla, one tbsp cheesecake pudding (they say sugar free lol I don’t) and 1/2 c frozen blueberries……DELICIOUS!!!

I am what my bariatric nurse friend calls a success story. I don’t feel very successful most days. But as of late I’m feeling great. Here are the stats as I look back over the 14 years. My highest weight was 214#. Yes my 5’3” self was over 200#. There are pictures here to prove it and it wasn’t pretty for sure. My goal was to be able to play in the floor with my grandchildren and I’ve been able to do that until the last few years when the bones have decided they weren’t going to cooperate. My personal goal was to be in a single digit size. I made it past that to a 00 in American Eagle jeans and got down to 108#.  I quickly bounced back and I stayed in that single digit until 2 years ago. The first pair of size 10 jeans I bought I told myself it was a comfort thing for the motorcycle, and it was, until it wasn’t. 

I absolutely have not one problem with being in a size 10 as long as I feel comfortable within my own skin. I was fine. I was rocking those 10s and even have some cute Crown and Ivy stuff that I adore. Then, I looked at my face and I could see I was addicted once again to something that I could not control. SWEET TEA! Coca Cola had me 14 years ago and now the sugar monster had me again. I knew it was only a matter or time. I spoke with my doc and off the tea I came. My A1C was creeping back up so it wasn’t just about the weight. I had been sitting between 148-154# for the last three years. I never wanted to be over 150# but it has always been a numbers game with me. My brain is wired with numbers being more important than anything. It is not anything I can fix so I just go with it. I could look like the most beautiful woman in the world, with the healthiest of lab work, and be on the front page of a fitness magazine but if the number on the scale doesn’t satisfy me then my world is upside down. Being in my brain is exhausting but everyone knows that already. Finally the 153# and the A1C number got me. 

August began another shot at losing. I dropped the sweet tea cold turkey and with the new knee starting working out more regularly. I set a goal to be 125# by my birthday. The first ten fell off. My body knew what it needed to do. I’ve had nothing to drink with the exception of water until the stomach bug hit last week. I’ve had two Sprite with one being last night. 

That stomach bug was an absolute nightmare and it dropped me past my goal for myself. I was perfectly content to be at 127# even though it wasn’t reaching the goal but 5# was lost that weekend alone. I do not ever recommend anyone try that. Well, maybe one or two people deserve it but I digress. I actually saw 122# on the scale and looked in the mirror. TOO MUCH! Anorexic I’m not, but again being 5’3”  means a little goes a long way. I dropped to a size 4 knowing that it is too small, but I’m going to try and rock that for a little bit. So, if you see me…. I know! You don’t have to say anything. I’m clocking in at 124# yesterday so it’s ok. 

So, stats at the fourteen year mark   Highest weight 214#, lowest weight 108#    Maintained 135-140# for several years then up to 148-154# for last four   Current weight 124# with goal weight to stay 125-130# and a size 6-8. Now, I have to work on my peach. I’ve slacked in the workout area since Thanksgiving so when that begins again next week I know those scales will start to trend back up. I need the peach popping and the mommy jelly belly to go away. Maybe the next update will include a photo on fitness mag! BAHAHAHA we all know better! I’m crazy but I ain’t that. 

There you have it. The more than you ever wanted to know but keep Tammie accountable yearly check in. Keep a watch, you never know what kind of BS I might come out with next. I’m sure there is a tale in the making here and I always like to share a laugh or two. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my readers and naysayers :) I love you all!

Happy 14th Surgiversary December 27th!!!!!

 HOME

Been thinking today about home. There are many different meanings to the word “home”. The old saying “home is where the heart is”, in the Book of Ruth she talks about “where you lodge I will lodge” these things could be home. To some home is a house. I was musing to myself about these things and began to think about all the places I’ve called home over the years. 

Since selling mom and dad’s house I’ve missed going “home”. Marshall Drive was home even though I’ve made my own home elsewhere. I was the only child that was born in Dalton, therefore the only one that truly knew no other place where mom and dad existed. Sixty two years they lived there. Sixty two Christmases. While they were in the assisted living then the nursing home we still made sure they made it home for the holidays. The last Christmas was not to be for mom as she wasn’t able. She passed in January but we were all there with her in December. Home came to her. 

I think of that house and how so many friends passed through those doors. Some of those friends like Brian and Annie it could be daily they came through. Of course, I was the same at their house too. I remember Fran and Melanie being a staple for those first years and even that last Christmas there was Melanie just as always. The comfort of friends is a bond like no other. While the blood might not be biological the blood sister bond is still a commitment we evidently took seriously. 

When moving away from home it seems a good choice to find a place that has a touch of home so you can wet your feet in the world with a little safety. I found this in my sister’s living room. Belvedere, SC was the first stop in the home away from home journey. I know I didn’t stay long there but it was long enough to have some fun and bonding time with my nephew. He always wanted to know if I was in my “partment”. It wasn’t long before I needed the freedom to find my way and that step included my first “real” apartment. 

That was where I learned how to cook on a grill, learn that palmetto bugs are not roaches (I still think they are), learned what pot smells like since the neighbors loved that stuff and I learned I didn’t like Washington Road living during Masters week. I learned that South Carolina Highway Patrolmen would rather I be in South Carolina where they could stop by and see me ;) 

Next stop, back to Belvedere and the most fun apartment ever. The revolving door of friends began. My first Christmas tree and where I truly learned I could do it all. I bought a little red car and burned those streets up much to the chagrin of one said highway patrolman that liked to pull me over. To this day I think he would still believe I was a speed demon. Right Robbie? Here I learned that people really do throw pasta against the wall to see if it is ready. I learned there is such a thing as reversed prejudice. I learned med students aren’t always the smartest, and I learned home sickness is a real and true thing. No amount of love from a sister or boyfriend can keep you from your mama when you are that sick. 

Home……ahhhhh Marshall Drive but the lesson learned there this time is two women who have had their own home have a hard time living together. The little kitchen there just became a cracker box size and poor Daddy just had to hold on. Apartment hunting became a priority. 

Townhome in Dalton while driving to Children’s Hospital in Chattanooga was the move of choice. I finally got to bring my cat home with me here. My boy settled right in and was happy I wasn’t leaving him and staying gone any more. My daddy left cinnamon hearts and notes on my stairs. I never had an issue that wasn’t handled because Daddy was right around the corner, then came a man. The townhouse showed me my first washer and dryer purchase which until 3 years ago I still had! Thirty five years, one set of dog agits and one belt later it was finally time to move up. Yes, I am the one that replaced those parts. That townhouse didn’t feel like home but a stepping stone. The stairs there saw many, many tears as my heart got shattered many times. That poor cat was drowned by those tears but he stayed right with me. Those tears included many red flags and lessons I should have learned but for some reason this place was where I learned to ignore the obvious. 

I bought my first house in East Ridge. I never thought as a single woman I would ever be able to purchase a home but I did. Marriage and children followed in what I call “the little house”. That little house held us for 15 years. It was home. I refinished the hardwoods by hand on my knees through a divorce. I raised my babies alone there. The sound of them running across the floor heater in the middle of the night to get to me is a sound I will always remember. I helped build a deck and had some great parties in that little house. I had the best neighbors a girl could ask for and learned that we all can have different ideas and lifestyles and still love hard and strong. Life long friendships were made in that little house. My children learned about sacrifice. They learned how to be strong in the face of heartache. I learned I was stronger than I ever thought possible and I could do anything I put my mind to if I just didn’t give up. It was while living in this house that I heard my daddy say “I love you” for the first time. 

Georgia schools were where my children really needed to be and East Ridge was a place we needed to put in our rear view mirror. Ringgold had “the big house”. This house was twice the size of the little house and I felt like I was home the minute I walked in. I was now closer to mom and dad. I could get to them in the same time it took me to get to work. The middle was the perfect place. Mom had grown up in Catoosa County and it immediately felt as we belonged. The kids didn’t miss a beat and made friends quickly and easily. Hunter found his funny side and Taylor found her first tribe. Love bloomed and bombed but the three musketeers were a force against the world. I learned how fiercely a mother could love. I learned patience was not a virtue that I owned. I lost myself in this house but just before I moved I found me again. Seventeen years is a long time to become a hermit within yourself. Hiding in plain sight is sometimes the best place to hide but a very lonely place. I learned that being an empty nester isn’t all bad when you see how successful your children are becoming. 

Plans change as quickly as an election and sometimes we have to drop back and punt. Moving back home wasn’t a choice I wanted to make but I knew it was the right decision. I would never give a single second back of being back at home because I was closer to mom and dad. I could be there in less than five minutes and sometimes I needed to be. I lost my grand pup in this house and forever miss her and Lexi. I learned to be the daughter I was raised to be by taking care of my parents. I spent time with them that I otherwise would not have had the time to spend. I had quit my second job and freed up time. It was the first time alone in 30 years. No spouse, no children, no animals. I was my only responsibility. Who knew that was going to be this hard?! I learned that sixty two years of stuff isn’t needed stuff. I learned that if you have photos of people you need to ALWAYS write on the back. I learned that even if it is a trinket you’ve always known you don’t have to keep it because you can always keep the memory.

After mom passed it was time to move along and vacate the premises. I longed to be back in Catoosa. I miss Ringgold. I miss what I had there. I miss my house. I miss portions of my old life. But alas, the election debacle was still rearing its ugly head and not a good time to buy anything. I did however, stay in Georgia. Walker county is definitely not a place someone moves that wants to save any money. The taxes and water alone will put a person in the poor house quickly. I feel this house is also a stepping stone. I don’t know where I will be stepping next but for now I am open for many lessons. I have made many new friends although for the first time very few of them are in my neighborhood. Neighbors aren’t like we used to be. It is that or now that I’m the old lady with no children it changes people’s perspective. Whatever the lessons are that I am to learn from this homestead I am open. Being open has been in the conversations lately. Be open to adventure. Be open to new experiences. Be open to meeting new people and be open to different people that you ordinarily wouldn’t hang with. 

Home may be where the heart is for some. Home for me has been about learning and growing. Each home has held a special place in my heart with many fantastic memories. When I close my eyes and see each home, I see it filled with people I love. Some may have been for a season or just during that home time. Others have become forever friends that have gone from home to home with me. When you think of home what is it to you? If you are lucky you have the potential of sixty two years in one place. For those of us who move and grow we may not have the luxury of time spent in one place but whilst we are in that place we make the most of it. 

I’m Miss Congeniality 1982

      Was just re reading my previous blog and giggling to myself. The theme of new friends and squirrels continues through the summer.

      I went camping this weekend with some friends meeting even MORE people and I laughed and giggled so much I am home with a sore throat. I was an hour and a half away when I realized I had left my cooler….not an end all thing and I would have just left it for next time but my hearing aids were in the top of it. I had placed them there to keep them from getting too hot in the car. I had gotten the number of a new friend and guess who was still at the campground!? She and her husband were so great. I started back toward them and they started home which was close to my direction of travel. I got my cooler and one more hug. 

     The running joke this weekend was “I’m Miss Congeniality 1982!” It was one of those continuing things that always elicited a pose and walk toward the judges. I’ve been remembering the fun times of the past that I had packed away and shared some funny, crazy things that have encompassed me life. 

     Another one of those “had to be there moments” began when i got the giggles. Those of you who have been around when those begin know that there is no way to stop them and they do get worse before it gets better. They are infectious and eventually hurt my chest. Imagine someone trying to get your attention to face them, knowing you will never hear them if you don’t. I’m already getting “the look” like “we’ve been calling your name forever”. I always meet this with the confused look which started the giggles. Now imagine, 8 folks looking at you with that look, me with the giggles, a few of them intoxicated and me seeing them holding squirrels. This added to the 4 in my head riding tricycles, 7 of them shooting fireworks and 2 wearing cat ears and they want me to pay attention???!!! Really?? Anyone else’s squirrels have that much fun?

     Now, granted, I’ve been pretty put out feeling like I’m not healing fast enough. Logically, I know I am on point but I’m not a logical person when it comes to the things limit me. I was going along like gangbusters it seemed but then it seems like it went to a snail’s pace. Tomorrow is my last scheduled PT and I am no where near a place I feel like I should stop going. I need those cheerleaders. I need those pushes. I need the encouragement. 

     To take the time out of my healing schedule to go on the bike with Ryan and then camping with my friends really helped the rehab blues. I had the best visit with my massage therapist today who encouraged me in so many ways. I have so many people in my corner. I feel so blessed to know them all. 

     While we all trip up sometimes and I am no exception, it is important to keep on going. Sunday, I made a blanket statement about “straighten my crown” and walking on. Those are the things we all should do. When something doesn’t go as planned, or someone says something that just hits wrong we all should square up our shoulders, straighten that crown and know that Miss Congeniality 1982 said in her blog to walk on with head held high. 

 

 You Can’t Make Old Friends…..but new ones can bring joy.

I’ve gone on and on about how wonderful my circle of friends are many times. I know I’ve said it so many times many of you are sick of hearing it or, admit it, you’re jealous. My facebook is full of little friend snippets.

I was wearing my SURVIVOR shirt last week when riding the motorcycle. It was from a women’s conference where one of the speaker’s had a book there called Beyond Betrayal. It was about friendship betrayal and it resonated so loudly for me. When Ryan asked me what I had survived I told him “friend betrayal” and I was on the other side of that nonsense thank goodness.

One week later what happens? I’m hanging at the pool with some “newer” (less than 5 years) friends this weekend and I receive a text from the betrayer!!!!! I haven’t heard from her but one time in the last year!! Imagine my shock. From this friend, I learned more about addiction than I ever wanted to know. I learned more about heartache than anyone should have to learn. I learned that it doesn’t matter how much you will someone to be better and do better it just won’t happen because YOU want it. They have to want to do better and be better. Words mean so little when the actions behind them speak louder. 

The words that were spewed at me over the years tore at my heart but were always followed by an apology or explanation of  the “disease”. Remember the sticks and stones rhyme? I found where my mom had written about sticks and stones…. To paraphrase  “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will suck the life right from me and the joy from my heart. Please break my bones” How this changed my outlook when I found it. Mom “got it”. If anything I’ve learned from the words that have been hurled at me over the last 20 years it has been this “says more about you than it does about me”. This became my motto.

Your words may hurt me, but quickly I realize hurt people, hurt people. It is about them, not me. When someone intentionally is trying to hurt me, I have learned I can write them off and never look back. It has taken almost 15 years but yesterday, I finally was able to wipe that slate clean of that last little bit of hurt that I was holding. When the flag of true colors flew high one more time, I took a deep breath, looked at the pool where I was sitting, I listened to the voices of my friends that had impressed my weekend and realized, I may not be able to make OLD friends but I can make new ones with the potential of longevity. 

I will admit I flashed PISSED! I was hurt, mad, and looking for a smart ass answer. But as soon as it flashed, a calmness took over and a rational “I’m not allowing this” attitude took over. I responded appropriately, put my phone down and continued with my wonderful weekend in the sun. 

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers’ “You can’t Make Old Friends” comes on while riding the motorcycle and I will inevitably pat Ryan or he pats me and I just harmonizes to the tops of my lungs. It means so much to me that he is one of those old friends. I have made so many new friends through him and the motorcycle. I have friends like Melanie Millican Chapman that I have had since I was 2 years old. She is never farther than a text or phone call away and I for her. If you know me, you know my BFF is my ride or die and my second appendage. We go a pretty good way back….25 years Kim?? I adore my old friends. I can NEVER and would never WANT to try and replace my old friends. But, watch out world…new things are coming….these times they are a changin’. 

Even though my hearing impairment has closed my world A LOT, I learned this weekend there ARE people willing to get to know me for me. People willing to take the time and turn to speak where I can see and read their lips. Not only were friends of friends on motorcycles learning me now there are others! Slowly, I may try to open my world back up. It had been a sad and lonely existence at times, when the hearing world started shutting me out. I realize it started within my own home. The person in my home wasn’t accommodating. I began to think others would be the same. I started seeing the world with glasses that were smudged. I took those sticks and stones to heart. I believed what I was feeling from the words spoken or the lack thereof. I was believing in those actions that were shown and thinking the whole world was going to be like this. I’ve been hearing impaired the last 25 years. Why has it taken this long? 

My last blog seemed to be along these lines. I believed all this “enlightenment” was supposed to have happened in my 40s. Guess I’ve been a little busy instead of being cultured…..ok…I’m not yogurt. Did yall see that squirrel?