Today I was a cheerleader and photographer for a group of people I work with (along with two other wonderful ladies Jo Ellen and Aleica).  Our team (AKA The Mud Hens) ran a really tough 5 K (3.2  miles) race called the Rugged Maniac.  The race was held at the Virginia MotorSport Park in Petersburg, VA.  They had to climb over barriers, crawl through tunnels, run through a tire jungle, run through the woods, slosh through mud, climb rope walls, slide down a 50’ high water slide and more.  There were about 20 obstacles they had to tackle.  No one got hurt, and everyone made it through the entire race!  The Rugged Maniac supports the Fisher House Foundation.  The Fisher House Foundation provides a temporary home on military bases and VA medical centers for the families of sick or injured men and women so they can be near family during their treatment.

Click here to see all the pictures

Congratulations to all my ST buddies that ran the race!  You were all amazing!

The farm house lay dark and quiet.  Farm life dictates your hours, and that mean getting up at sunrise, and usually going to bed soon after the moon rises in the night sky.  Tonight was no different, except Farmer Joe was away at a tractor convention, and his wife was alone in the big old drafty house.  Light snoring was coming from their bedroom. 

 Out in the barn, the three tailless mice were preparing for an attack.  Ralph tapped his little white cane and felt for the mouse trap.  Once he found it with his little brown fuzzy paw, he picked it up and gingerly walked towards the barn door.  Bob located the rat poison and put that in his little mouse backpack .  The biggest mouse Ben was already armed with the butcher knife that had actually cut off the three rodent’s tails years ago.  It was old, but it was still very sharp.

 The signal was given and they headed towards the tranquil farm house.  The only sound that could be heard was a far off owl hooting, the crickets and frogs, and the tap, tap, tap of the tree little canes.  Ben led the way into the house and up the wooden stairs.  Once at the top, they had to act quickly.  Ralph set the mouse trap at the foot of the stairs and then called softly “Kitty kitty kitty.”  There was a thump as cat paws hit the rug in the bedroom, and the cat appeared by the cracked bedroom door.  The three mice positioned themselves behind the trap and waited for the cat to approach.  She came ever so slowly, but as soon as she touched Ralph’s cane he squeaked “Now!”  and they lifted the trap and it caught the cat by the nose.  There was a loud howl and the cat went barreling down the hall shaking her head fiercely from side to side trying to get her nose out of the trap. 

 The farmer’s wife appeared at the door wide eyed.  She was wearing an old tattered housecoat with little blue flowers spattered all around.  Her hair encircled her head and almost looked like a gray halo.  Of course the mice couldn’t see any of this, because of their blindness.  Ben yelled “Charge!”

 The saddest part of this story is they never got their revenge on this woman, because they also couldn’t see the Winchester 12 gage she was aiming right at them.  You never saw such a sight in your life as three blown apart mice…

I woke with the start, hearing a loud crash come from downstairs. I envisioned a bat; its waxy wings flapping between the teeth of either Molly Bolt or Wing Nut, our two cats.  They have so far brought me two such live and luscious gifts.  I reluctantly crept downstairs, my feet padding quietly as not to wake anyone else in the house.  There was an overturned plant at the bottom of the stairs, and what appeared to be crushed colored eggs. The cats must have gotten into the Easter baskets I had put together for my husband and two children.  I turned on the light and spied both cats sitting side by side and looking up towards our fish tank.  My eyes naturally followed up to where their eyes were looking.  There, on top of our tank sat a rather large white rabbit, hunched forward on his back legs, and holding a huge colorful basket.  His nose twitched furiously and he looked really nervous.  Leave it to my cats to corner the Easter Bunny. 

 “Oh, my” I stammered.  “Are you who I think you are?”  I stepped closer to him and looked him over for cat bites.

 “Madam, could you please remove the two felines, if you please.”

 “Oh, sorry.”  I picked up both cats and place them on the basement stairs and closed the door.  I returned to the rabbit, and helped him down.

 “Thank you so much for your assistance.”  His voice was gentlemanly, but he had a slight lisp.  He stood up on his hind legs, still clutching his basket.  “I best be off, I have 34,763 stops left to make tonight.”  He began walking towards the door, but stumbled, spilling several chocolate eggs and marshmallow chicks on the carpet.  I scurried over to him and helped him stabilize a bit.  “I believe I have been injured.” he professed.  “I don’t think I can complete my task tonight.  This is a serious matter madam.  I will have no alternative but to contact my attorney in the morning.”  He limped towards the door, and grabbed for the knob.  “I hope you have good insurance madam.”

 “Well, Millennium Insurance is my carrier.  Please, what can I do to help you?  I really am sorry.”  I wiped a tear from my eye.  “We can’t just leave all of those baskets unfilled.”

 He cleared his throat, and rubbed his chin with his soft white paw.  “If you call my cousin Harvey.  He is a rather large invisible rabbit, and he knows the route.  If the two of you could finish up before day break, I’ll forget suing you for everything you own.”

 Harvey and I did a bang up job.  We did not miss a single Easter basket.  We returned home just as the rooster woke.  We reported to the Easter Bunny that we delivered every single chocolate egg, stuffed bunnies and jelly bean!  You might say old Harvey and I saved Easter!  The Easter Bunny didn’t see it that way.  As he hobbled out the door, he grumbled back to me “Next year those two killer cats better not bother me, or I will not be back again.” 

 I was planning on putting them in the basement next year, along with Christmas eve, and any time the tooth fairy was scheduled for a pick up!

There were two children howling in my ear, the TV was chattering and right at that moment my husband sarcastically asked me where I had filed his tennis shoes.  Slowly I turned to him and as if he could see the swords coming from my eyes, his upper lip on the right side curled up just a touch.  That was his signal that he knew he had gone too far.  Before I could throw another sword in anyone else’s direction my clever husband said, “Who wants to go to McDonald’s?”

 In stereo, “We do!” was heard from the shortest members of the family.  I remained silent, stashing my steely weapons away for future use.  My three loving family members headed for the door. My youngest turned to me and in an inquisitive voice he said “Mom?  Aren’t you coming too?”  I just smile, blew my sweet crew a kiss and shut the door as quickly as possible, and at the last minute locked the deadbolt.  I heard my husband yell through the door, “Ah, honey, I think we are also going to go to a movie.”

 Alone at last, I heard a very strange sound.  It was familiar, but not one I had heard since I was young, vibrant and single.  My eyes lit up as I recognized this stillness as the sound of silence.  Elated by the realization that I was all by myself for at least three hours, my arms flew up in the air and I twirled around.  Making a snap decision, I stepped over the pile of laundry, avoided the overflowing sink of dishes and grabbed an entire bottle of wine, a crystal glass and the great book I was reading.  I painted my toenails and gave myself a French manicure.  I headed for my special place.  I draped my favorite quilt (hand stitched by my great Grandmother) over the porch-swing and spent the entire afternoon there, the sound of silence hovering around me, the wine humming in my head.

 Four hours later, my book and wine finished I said goodbye to blissful silence.  I slowly walked to the door hearing first the sound of the bell, then the sound of laughter.  I stood before the door and mentally tucked my calming memory away as my children yell “Mom!  Let us in!  Let us in!”

 With an insightful and knowing smile, I did just that.

Stars:  Just like any good play or movie, you may need a cast of thousands.  The stars are always willing to play the part.  They each have their own history and stories and have captured the interest of all; from philosopher to small child.  The moon and the sun, they have been around a lot longer than some of the stars, but they are all committed to do their part and regardless of their age, they glimmer and glow for as long as they can.  Although some stars have sadly died, there are new stars and even stars we have not seen.

The fact that each and every star is a luminous sphere of plasma being held together by gravity is pretty amazing.  One big fact is the mac daddy of stars is the sun and since it is the closes to earth, that is why the sun does so many nice things for us!

This is true; I know because it happened to me.  You can look me straight in the eyes, they will not flicker, or show any falsehoods.  It happened.

I was seventeen, depressed, and lonely.  When I felt like that, I would walk down by the creek with my dog.  She was great company; she listened, and never ever gave me any bad advice.  On this cold March day, I had found myself down by the creek.  I came to my favorite spot where I sat.

I listened for answers from the trickling creek, and the rustling of the leaves, but none seem to come.  Miss Boo sat next to me, but soon grew tired of just sitting.  She took off sniffing and trampling through the woods.  I was going over for probably the tenth or eleventh time about how my life sucked, and how I was destine to lead not only a boring life, but a life without meaning; when I heard Miss Boo barking furiously.  Curiosity got the best of me and I headed towards her barking.  She was near a circle of trees to the north of the water.  Back and forth she was pacing around a rather large old oak.  As I approached her something came crashing down.  It happened so quickly, all I saw was a green blur.  It was a tiny little man about as tall as Miss Boo.  He put his fists up as Miss Boo began to sniff him.  I ran over to my dog, grabbed her by the collar and leashed her.  His fists then faced me.  “Are you all right?” is all I could think to say.  He put his fists down and began brushing off his dirty green pants.

He glared at me with such hatred, I was taken aback.  I felt as if I was speaking to an alien in a really bad science fiction film.

“I mean you no harm sir.”  Came blurting out of my mouth.

“For the love of blarney,” he retorted “I’ll give you one wish and that’s it.  Now spill it sister, I’m late for dinner, and the Mrs. got Irish stew on the stove.  What do you want?”

I thought quickly, trying not to let the insanity of the moment draw my mind a blank.

“OK.” I quickly stated “I would like to be a famous writer someday; maybe I could write about meeting you and have it published”

Well, dear reader, it must be true because you are reading my story!

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!

The tent was placed in a circle of trees adjacent to the rest of the carnival.  Making it appears as if it was remote and secluded.  It was made of thick red canvass.  It’s tattered clothe walls had a earthy smell, with a touch of mildew.  There were two large flaps beckoning for someone to walk in.  So as I stood there waiting for my kids to come back to me with sticky hands and wild eyes, I went in.

Inside the tent was a round wooden table with three large candles.  The flickering light reflected into the eyes of grey haired, blue eyed women.  A gypsy no doubt went through my mind.  I was wondering where the crystal ball was when she spoke to me.

“Please come in; sit down” she said it that gypsy accent.

I obeyed and timidly asked her “Ah, how much does it cost?”

“$5 if you please.”  The gypsy slowly extended her jeweled hand.  Each finger was encased in a silver ring.  Her bracelets jingled and clanked loudly.

I handed her my money and confessed “I have never had my fortune read.  I am kind of intrigued”

She smiled at me and without saying a word, she took my hands.  I felt warmth and what I thought at the time was electricity.  “Oh.” she murmured softly.  “Hmmm.”  She turned my hand over, palms down.  She looked me in the eyes and began speaking “Sometimes you are flying high, life going your way, but tomorrow you might be low.  One day to the next you do not know.  It must come from within, not from anyone else – only you can turn it around – you must look to yourself.  These words may be vague, but I see you know what I am saying.  You want to succeed, no sense in delaying.”  She took my hand again, and I felt something in the atmosphere of that tent.  “My words may sound like a riddle, but you feel what I am saying to you.  I sense you want to succeed at something, and you are holding yourself back – no one else.  You must believe in yourself.”  She handed me a smooth shiny blue rock.  “Take this with you; you will know what to do with it when the time comes.”

As I was about to asked her what I would do with this rock, my children came bursting in. “Mom!  We have been looking everywhere for you!  Come on, Dad is waiting in the truck.  Come on!”

As I left the tent, I looked back at the gypsy.  She said again “You will know.”

I think I might have an affliction.  It happens a lot and so that is why I believe I own this burden, this monkey on my back.  I think this is my cross to bear, and this level of suffering compels me to write this article.

I think it started when I moved out and was on my own and no longer lived with my mother. It was a long time ago and it has always bothered me.  It was always in the back of my mind, making me wonder and even worry a little.  This hardship seems to come and go.  When I have a lot of energy and put on my domesticated cape I don’t seem to notice it as much.  When it is gloomy outside and the sun snubs its nose at my windows, then I don’t notice at all.  At night, it doesn’t seem to be a problem unless I turn on a lot of lights making it super bright in the room I may be occupying.  Then, I will detect it.  When the birds are singing and the sun is shining and sun beams dance around, that is when the threat will flare up.  It will stand out swirl around and accost my eyes. It starts out small and may be hard to see, but if I try to ignore it, it grows in numbers and begins building up everywhere.

My problem is dust.  I attract this stuff on every surface and in every room of my house!  I look around and I see dust bunnies, frog hair, cussywop, woofinpoofs, house moss, fluff, dust kitties, dust fairies, flakes, earth particles and serious ghost manure!  I think I must have the dust sonar turned on somewhere and I can’t flip the switch to OFF! The domestic tumble weeds form in every corner and under the kitchen table.  If I walk by too quickly, they may rise up to remind me they are there.  I have tried hard to remove this dirty collection, but it just keeps coming back.  It is one of those things that could drive a woman mad!  Is this a joke?  Why do I have to engage in this cycle of lunacy?  I gather my weapons to eliminate it once and for all.  I grab the can of pledge and a micro fiber clothe and attack.  I will go from room to room and remove it all.  I will examine my dresser and the top of the mantle above the fireplace and it will all be gone.  With a sore back and dirty hands I will retire my dust clothes and Orange Glow bottle and settle down to admire my clean and dust free environment.  I might close my eyes and rest after a long day of battling this aggravating nuisance but what I find when I open my eyes is that it is still there, floating in the air and preparing to land right back on my picture frames and French county shelves.  I don’t know how to stop it from coming back.  It is like the Star Trek episode about the Tribbles.  Just as the Tribbles were mortal enemies of the Klingon Empire, dust bunnies are my archenemy and I would do anything to eliminate their existence!  But there is no stopping dust and grime.   I open a window or a door and it floats in ignoring the rule “No filth allowed”.  I need help!  I need furless animals rather than fluffy cats and dogs.  I need cleaner family members and possibly a compulsive cleanaholic who could take over this chore for me.  I don’t want to think about the possibility that I will be fighting this battle until I die.  Even then, I will more than likely become dust and travel in the air landing on someone else’s coffee table or windowsill.  <Sigh>

1.  My new iPad
2. Our new living room furniture
3. My craft room
4. Living Social, Groupon and Dealfind
5. Beading classes at Beads on Parade
6. Getting a pedicure
7. Time alone
8. The Launguage of Flowers
9. Journaling
10. WordPress & blogging