Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Time In a Geritol Bottle

Funny how time can change your whole perspective.  Too little is frustrating...too much, confusing.  But sometimes, in the words of Baby Bear, it's just right!
 
 
As y'all all know, in the past I'm almost always by myself for the better part of the Greatest Show on Dirt.  Not that Cat Daddy didn't want to be there...he did.  It was just his pesky job always got in the way, but this time he was able to stay for the whole time.  Retirement, along with other changes, does bring certain advantages in the form of ticks on the clock.
 
(All photos...except for the crappy ones...are by Give Me Props.)
 
Antique Week...or should I say weeks since we were there for 15 glorious days...was crammed jammed with excitement. Frivolity, food, and fortune met us at every corner. Not ones to waste time, we celebrated and savored every moment.
 
 
Frivolity in that I don't think I've ever laughed so much for such an extended period of time...sometimes so much so I forgot to breathe. I truly believe I have the most comical friends on the planet.
 
 
  Food 'cause I ate so many different things I can now speak two new languages besides Twanglish...Mouthful-ian and More-ese! Happy that I can now say pie in many different flavors AND am justified to add multilingual to my resume!
 
 
And last but not least...fortune.  I don't mean the kind you bring home in a bank bag...although the show was a success.  More like the fortune in memories you bring home in your heart at an exchange rate no Fortune 500 could ever hope to match.
 
 
There's much to share with y'all about the show.  There was a whirlwind of activity from the moment my feet touched down until the last tub was loaded back on the trailer.  So much so in fact, I'm going to have to break it down into several posts.  Expect quite a few to come out of this keyboard over the next couple of weeks.  At my age, I can't wait too long or I forget what I want to say and the he saids/she saids.  I like to think it's a wise woman who keeps her facts straight to avoid any unfortunate incarcerations in the future!
 
 
 
For the time being though...this chubby lady has a man whining crying pleading inquiring about clean underwear. Think it's about time to introduce him to the washer and dryer.
 
 
 
And for the record...I also speak Man-ese fluently!
 

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Promissory Note

 
 
Here it is y'all...just like I pinky sweared!


Now would I go and lie to my little honeys?

XOXO
 

Monday, March 17, 2014

Put Out To Pasture

It's official y'all.
 
All the paperwork has been completed, signed on the dotted line, mailed and the first pension check has been deposited into our bank account.
 
Now the way I got it figured and according to the United States government (and since they think they know it all), that translates to we are now retired!
 
 
Webster defines the word retired something like this:
 
1. Having finished one's active working life.
2. Secluded from society, private, quiet.
3. To go away or apart, to a place of privacy.
 
Huh?
 
Beg pardon, but when exactly does the work finish? We're working harder now than ever before and I don't see no finish line in my horizon any time soon. Truth being self is a tough boss with little time off and as far as privacy goes...are you kidding me? Besides...when have y'all ever known me to be quiet?
 
There is little about us that y'all don't know except the dramas of life we all experience at one time or 'tother...and unexpected retirement. Those subjects I do tend to keep to myself, but only because my mama told me never hang my dirty laundry out on the front porch. God also told me to let sleeping dogs lie and He would handle things for us...and He has. Anytime one gets their first retirement check before the actual confirmation letter shows up proves who really knows it all and is in control.  Once again, let the record show...God is more powerful than even the government.
 
But enough about that. Let's talk about work...whatcha say?
 
The Greatest Show on Dirt is just around the corner...and I mean just that.  It's less than a week before we'll be heading down with the trailer to Zapp Hall.  Our show starts March 28th, but we get there early to unload and set up.
 
In the meantime, we're working like the matched set of mules we are to get things wrapped up here at the Casita de Trash.  Cat Daddy is cramming that trailer full of all the things we have been squirreling away to take to the Mother Ship for the spring show.
 
And speaking of the spring show...Oh Mylanta!
 
There are big doings popping up this time around.
 
The show is always fun, but this one promises all sorts of surprises, special guests, and running amuck, with a dash of mischief and mayhem thrown in for good measure.  For starters, I am shaking like a chihuahua to be first in line for this...
 
 
 
Jo Packham, creator of Where Women Create, Cook, Create Business...aw shoot fire, do it all and then some...is going to be inside Zapp Hall March 29th, from 2-4pm for a special signing of Where Women Cook. As you may or may not know, our own sweet Head Zapper, Cheryl Lehane, was featured in Where Women Create Business not too long ago. Jo is quite the powerhouse in our world and to be selected to appear/shoot the photos in between the pages of her magazines/books is something to be mighty proud of and rightly so. It's the equivalent of an "atta girl" for working one's fanny off.
 
With Jo will be an amazing line-up of creative, beautiful women who also are known for working their buns off.
 
(Get it...Where Women Cook...buns? I crack myself up sometimes!)
 
I don't have the full list of who all will be there signing magazines, but I do know on hand will be Celeste Shaw of Chaps Diner and Bakery, Holly Kuhn of Old Glory, Gina Galvin of Peacock Park and Ki Nassauer of Flea Market Style Magazine among the featured guests.  I promise y'all up and down, I'll be adding to the who's who list as I get the info...pinky swear!
 
https://www.facebook.com/jopackham?fref=ts&ref=br_tf#!/wherewomencook
 
(Celeste's knock-your-socks-off kitchen. Photo courtesy of  Where Women Cook. Did I tell y'all I am beyond the moon in anticipation of meeting Celeste? No? Well then...consider yourselves done told...'cause I am!) 
 
 
SQUIRREL ALERT!
 
I have to stop and mention a coupla of things I know y'all are gonna dig, beginning with a shout out to one of my favorite people in the history of ever...Gina Galvin.  Gina is starting a new venue at the spring shows with The Rendezvous. She and her vendors will be located down the road from Zapp Hall on Hwy. 237.  She's promising fun and laughter, along with great shopping, beginning with her hosting Theresa's blog party the 28th of March at 6pm. Knowing Gina...this ain't no empty promise. I have yet to be around this gorgeous lady without smiling my fool head off!
 
 
Now if that isn't enough to get your motor humming...listen up. Holly and her husband, owners of Old Glory Antiques in Denver, are going to be opening a new shop in Burton, March 25th. Love, love, triple love her take and talent when it comes to a fresh look for purchasing and using antiques in your homes.
 
( I should mention I stole...I mean borrowed all the above photos from their FB pages...including this one from Holly's. Y'all know me and  taking decent photos is NOT in my wheelhouse so I have to resort to thievery!)
 
And if that still isn't enough...tighten up those bra straps...there's more!
 
Amie and Jolie, Junk Gypsies extraordinaires, will have two locations to shop this time.  They'll be at Zapp as well as their JG World Headquarters. On the 28th, the official ribbon cutting will take place at the JGWHQ's and season two of the Junk Gypsies will be filming.
 

One word y'all...whew!
 
 
I don't know about y'all, but I'm all agog with anticipation of this year's spring shows and all the frivolity that is about to commence!
 
My only suggestion to y'all is pack your roller skates. I got me a hunch you're gonna need 'em!
 
 
As for me...I best get back to enjoying my retirement.
 
Translation?
 
Working like the rented Jenny I am...slightly burnt out but still smokin'!
 
 
 
 

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Undercover Tourist

If I've learned anything in 62 years of living, it's that life doesn't come with a road map.  You gotta be ready for unexpected potholes and detours along the way.  Every day is a journey and if we're wise, we keep souvenirs to remember it by.
 
That's what I've been dealing with the past couple of weeks...chug holes big enough to knock my plans clean out of alignment.

Cat Daddy had been planning on retiring the middle of this year (yes...gasp...we are of that age), but out of the blue, the planned date of retirement was changed...oops. As a result, I've been hurriedly preparing all the paperwork needed to start his pension as well as attending to all the details that go along with it.

In the middle of this chaos, came the startling revelation I'm an almost, but not quite, senior citizen.

When did this happen?

More importantly...how did it happen?

In reflection came another revelation. I suddenly realized my life could be told by the changing of my underwear.

I began life in a diaper and if I'm blessed to live long enough, I'm sure I'll leave this world wearing the same attire.

I progressed to training pants and I'm proud to say I passed with flying colors! 'Course, the older I get and with each little sneeze or giggle, I wonder just how well trained I am. From there it was just a hop, skip and jump to ruffles on my tiny tookus!

SQUIRREL ALERT!
I just have to ask why the term "training bra"? Training pants I get, but training bra? Just what the heck are the girls (BTW...I call my girls Mary Kate and Ashley in case y'all were wondering.) in training for...sit, speak, sit up? If it's shake...they'll learn that quick enough on their own. And don't even let me get started on "foundation garments" or we're likely to be here for days! 

By the time I started school, I was ready for my first set of Days of the Week panties. I'm sure a lot of y'all remember those, but do you also remember wearing Saturday on Monday or vicey versey 'cause mom hadn't done the laundry yet?

SQUIRREL ALERT II!
Why do we say "a pair of panties"? Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't we just wear 'em one at a time? Kinda like a pair of pants, you know? One at a time...although with the abundance of cold weather we've been having here at the North Texas Pole,  I'm tempted to throw on a couple of more pairs for added warmth.

I loved those panties...especially Sunday. They began my love affair with underthings. Nowadays kids are walking billboards, sporting Doc McStuffins or Spiderman on their little tushes. And grown ups aren't any better. We really should get paid for running around with Juicy emblazoned across our rumps!

And then came the '60's.

Peace, love and goodbye Playtex, hello Vassarette.

Young women everywhere...you can thank my generation for mini skirts, hip-huggers and hot pants...'cause with 'em came the need for bikini underwear and the invention of pantyhose.

Be gone granny panties and garter belts!

With the disco years, came the worry of panty lines showing through our tight britches and wrap dresses.  Thus began my years of going commando. What can I say? I was a child of the sixties and had no filters...and obviously no shame either!

The honeymoon years of my marriage included matching lingerie, but that didn't last long before I entered the maternity years.

For both my pregnancies, I paraded around in Cat Daddy's underwear...except when I went to the OB/GYN.  He didn't need to know my dirty little secret. My ever expanding belly itched like mad and I didn't own a single pair of cotton undies, so off to C.D.'s underwear drawer and on with his Fruit of the Looms. I'd love to be able to tell y'all I returned those back to his drawer after the kids were born, but sadly I did not. It was a while before ol' Deb could fit back into her Lily of France frilly skivvies, resulting in her fancy underwear consisting of control tops and panty girdles.

During the child rearing years, I was buying more Underoos and less lace. Sadly, my cotton britches came three to a pack, hanging on a rack at Sears. Temporarily gone were the lovely tables, heaped high and overflowing with silky drawers, trimmed in soft lace. No little satin rosebuds to distinguish the front from the back, only the annoying size tag scratching my hind end.  But all that changed in the '80's with the opening of a Victoria's Secret at our local mall.  It was as if the clouds opened up and a rainbow of knickers appeared!

Victoria and I became fast friends for the next umpteen years.  When the new catalog arrived in the mail, I felt like that kid back in 1959 and the Sears Christmas catalog was in the mailbox. Cat Daddy and I would go to war over who got to look at it first...although looking back...I now question his interest and/or motives!  All I say to that is five minutes ladies...just five minutes!

SQUIRREL ALERT III
One thing you'll never catch me wearing, even if all my undies are dirty, is a thong. I happen to think those things are just plain evil. A thong had to be designed by a man 'cause women have spent the better part of their days trying to keep their drawers from crawling into places said drawers got no place crawling into. Ain't no way this chubby lady is going to buy something designed to hone into...or saw in half...her nether-nether land.

Well y'all...that brings us to the 21st Century and the next chapter in my life. I don't save my unmentionables for special occasions 'cause let's face it...at my age, getting up in the morning is special enough. I love pretty underwear and will wear it until the day I have to slip on my first pair of Depends.  When that day comes, as I know it will, I pray I still have enough wits about me to hot glue a satin rose on 'em. Otherwise, how will I know which side goes in front...and in life as in intimates...that's an all important detail.


 
 

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Carpe Diem and Deja Vu All Over Again!

Even though Punxsutawney Phil (not to be confused with Buckeye Chuck) saw his shadow up in Pennsylvania this morning, down here at the North Texas Pole, it is one gloomy day. Wind, rain, gray skies and the possibility of icy conditions are all in the forecast...or so says Evan, my friendly neighborhood weatherman. And just so you know, when it comes to prognostication, he's generally a heap more reliable than some fat rodent sipping on a fountain of youth elixir.
 
Being housebound, I suppose I could take this opportunity to write a new blog post.  Yes I could and should, but in all honesty, I'd much rather eat the refrigerator. That's the bad thing about cold weather...makes me hungry as a horse. So-o-o, if it pleases you...'cause it sure pleases the heck outta me...and to celebrate the Year of the Horse, I'll be putting on the feed bag while serving y'all up a reheated post from 2012.
 
Why you ask?
 
A. It's one of my all time favorites.
B. Yes...I'm just that lazy.
And...
C. Everything and everybody deserves a new day for second chances and new beginnings.
 
(You Tube)
 
 

February 3, 2012...6:00 a.m.

Fall outta bed and make my way into office. Power up the computer and stumble into kitchen to make coffee.

While waiting on said coffee to perk, click on TV to double check if the earth is still spinning and what Evan is predicting weatherwise so I can dress accordingly...socks or bare feet.

Stumble back into kitchen to administer the first of 3 cups of coffee, then head on back to the office for just a few minutes of computer time.


February 3, 2012...8:30 a.m.

Try to get up from office chair, but find my butt and legs have gone numb. Scribble a note to remind me to google this later and find out what might be causing this. I sure hope it ain't the beginning of old age.

Hmmm...find myself wondering on how earth I got that second cup of coffee in my hand...and if  it is somehow tied to the whole numb-butt phenom.

Start household chores by picking up Cat Daddy's dirty socks from where they hit the floor. Smiling to myself at this...just one of his lovely daily reminders of how much he needs me...I throw them at the laundry basket. Score!

Fill sink with hot sudsy water to cram soak dirty dishes from the night before then it's off to make the bed.

Do a multi-task walk through picking up crap while straightening at the same time. Place vacuum cleaner in the middle of the room in case I decide the floors need a swipe.

Start to kitchen to wash dishes, but remember I need to check e-mails first.
 

February 3, 2012...10:00 a.m.

Stiffly, get out of office chair and run some hot water into the sinkful of dirty dishes that somehow got cold.

Put on rubber gloves and haz-mat suit to clean bathroom. Clean the three sides of the bathtub that show, wipe off the toothpaste splatters from the faucets (gleam says clean) and disinfect the toilet seat for that oh-so-fresh feeling.

Look at vacuum cleaner sitting in the middle of the floor and think to myself...is it really that dirty?

Fix a little breakfast of Pop Tarts and sit down at desk to eat while checking out new blog posts. I can't afford to lose any time on trivial activities...like adding another dirty dish to the overflowing sinkful I got on stand-by so I dine on a paper towel.



February 3, 2012...11:30 a.m.

Struggle outta office chair and limp into kitchen to find drops for watery eyes. Funny...I don't remember Evan mentioning in his morning forecast a heavy pollen count. Numb butt, loss of memory, watery eyes...must remember to look this up on WebMD.

Add more hot water and Dawn to sink, but make the executive decision to go ahead, bite the bullet, and wash them to avoid a monster water bill next month.

Look at vacuum cleaner for the third time and have a light bulb moment... floors are clean enough.

My tummy is rumbling, reminding me it's almost lunch time...and I'm still in my pajamas.

February 3, 2012...12:15 p.m.

Nuke a burrito (on a paper towel, natch!) for lunch, grab a coke outta the fridge, and using my time management skills, make a quick stop at the computer to visit Facebook.

February 3, 2012...1:30 p.m.

Decide to put on street clothes...just in case Cat Daddy comes home early...and give my hair a lick and a promise.

House smells a bit stale, but can't find my new fig scent candles to light. Searching for them is eating up my precious time, so instead, throw a load of whites in the laundry, being sure to add fabric softener.  Ain't nothing like a little Gain to add a nice clean scent to a home.


February 3, 2012...2:00 p.m.

Doing all that laundry has me too pooped to pop. Grab a snack sized Butterfinger and plop down at computer to re-charge for the next round of household chores.

While waiting for energy level to return to normal, get busy doing some real work...reorganizing my Pinterest boards.

February 3, 2012...3:30 p.m.

Jump outta my office chair and purt near trip myself. Manage to hobble into kitchen to run some water and Pine Sol into sink, having recently discovered it gives the house that "just cleaned" smell...without actually having to clean it.

Clean the glass storm door and hope I don't have any birds crashing into it...again.

February 3, 2012...4:00 p.m.

Realize I haven't done a post on my blog in over a 2 weeks. Start post, but have to hit "Save" as Cat Daddy's truck pulls into drive.

Hurriedly shut down all tabs, lurch into the kitchen to throw water on my face to resemble beads of sweat, and notice my britches are on inside out.

Throw wet towels in dryer and almost hang myself trying to get the last wash cloth outta the washer.


February 3, 2012...4:30 p.m.

Greet Cat Daddy with a weary, but loving smile from my day's exhausting work, sit and listen to his re-telling of his day...and try not to yawn.

Watch jealously as Cat Daddy sits in my chair at the computer to check out auctions and estate sales.

Start dinner while discreetly shooting him the stank eye.

Go ahead and put away vacuum cleaner for another day. He never even noticed it sitting there.

February 3, 2012...5:00 p.m.

Take a much needed sit-a-spell to watch In The Heat Of The Night reruns while supper simmers.

Fold semi-dry towels as Mr. Tibbs solves the crime du jour.

February 3, 2012...6:00 p.m.

Sit down at separate TV trays with Cat Daddy and dine in the romantic flicker of The Big Bang Theory reruns. Laugh together at the same hilarious lines...over and over and over.

Make plans with Cat Daddy for the coming weekend to work around the house. Make silent note to self...that'll be the day.

February 3, 2012...7:30 p.m.

Wait patiently as C.D. takes his bath before he heads to bed.

Listen for heavy snoring and sneak into office for just a short visit to blogs.

February 3, 2012...11:59 p.m.

Check the time and ponder where the time went, all the while thinking...didn't I just do all this yesterday...and the day before...and the day before that?

Glancing down at the screen, to my surprise, I notice the date on Yahoo shows February 2nd...wha-a-a?

Jump to my feet with the realization...

I'm trapped in Groundhog Day!

Help! I've fallen into a time warp and can't get out.

Change my date and time stamp if necessary...pull my plug...put me in a DeLorean...whatever it takes! Otherwise y'all...I'm trapped in this loop until further notice.

Looking back at this old post, I just realized I'm not as lazy as I first thought!
We've sold every item in these photos. Now that's what I call making hay while the sun shines!

~Hold her head up Pa...she's goin' to the barn.~

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Wednesday's Whine List

Everyone has their morning routine and I'm willing to bet a doughnut to a dollar, many of us in the business of junketeering share a similar one.
 
I roll out of bed around 5ish every morning, power up the ol' computer, stumble into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, then proceed to watch the weather while waiting for my eye opener to brew.
 
Once both are eyes are fully functional, I sit down to check the comings and goings of my world,  beginning with looking for new blog posts and ending with a check on Pinterest.  Somewhere in the middle of all this activity, I'll throw a load of laundry at the washer, fix me a bowl of oatmeal and maybe/maybe not get dressed.
 
What can I say? I'm a simple person by nature and unless there's something spectacular on my horizon...like the upcoming Fredericksburg Trade Days we'll be doing this weekend...I don't veer far from this routine.
 
I allow myself so much time for these frivolous diversions and can't afford to waste a second.  After all, there are only so many hours in a day I can p&*@ off without running the risk of getting caught behind doing unnecessary things.
 
I had began to notice Pinterest was throwing photos up for possible additions to my boards.  Not a lot mind you, but enough to catch my attention.  That is until this morning.
 
Ohmylanta!
 
There they were, at least 30...possibly more, I lost count...Related Pin suggestions on my feed! And if that wasn't bad enough, I was asked to give a thumbs up or down as feedback for each and every one of them. To add insult to injury, the only way to get this clutter off my feed?  I had to thumbs down each and every one of them!
 
Grrr!
 
How dare you Pinterest presume to know what I do or do not like based on what I've titled my boards.  Just because I have one titled Pinkadelphia doesn't mean I want to pin a pair of pink Toms. Obviously you don't have a clue or you wouldn't be showing me Crap. Yeah you heard me right. I said Crap with a capital C!  For every twenty you suggest to me, I may like one.  That's right...ONE!
 
I have no intention of ever digging my own swimming pool or making a quilt out of rubber bands, nor do I think I'll be  preparing and freezing enough meals to carry me into the next millennium!  Seriously? Like I could even afford to buy that many groceries at one time.  Besides...even though you think I do, I'm not sure I like lentils...unless they taste like chicken.
 
Pinterest, my advice to you?
 
Get offa my boards and outta my face!
 
I know what I like and unless you're willing to actually look at what I've pinned instead of making random suggestions, quit wasting my time.
 
Like I said earlier, I've only got so many hours in a day and I don't want to spend them deleting crummy ideas when my time is better spent stealing searching out brilliant ones.
 
Pinterest...you of all people should know that...since you obviously think you know it all.

If you really want to suggest something to me...make it a cheese to serve with whines.

Do and I promise up and down, I'll pin it...Pinkadelphia pinky swear.
 
 
 
 
 

Monday, January 13, 2014

Do You Know Who You Are? I'm Batman.

When I wrote this post in November, I was struggling with many things...one being me and who I am versus who I want to be.
 
Packing for spelunking into the cavernous recesses of one's psyche can be tough.
 
I had no idea what I might dig up or possibly unearth while sifting through my memory. For those of y'all entertaining the idea of striking out on your own  journey, here's a short list of things to throw into your backpack before going down the rabbit hole.
 
  1. Don't bother with a flashlight, pack candles instead. Batteries have a tendency to wear out from long periods of use and only throw light at the spot you point them...revealing little except what you would like to see. To excavate properly, you've got to be willing to see the whole cavern and for that you need to take along the truth. It shines like nothing else on earth and lights up the darkest corners. Unless you really want to lug a huge spotlight in your pack, slip in the truth. Believe it or not, it does lighten the load you're carrying, but even then, be prepared to fall into a lot of dark holes. It's part of the adventure. If and when the darkness surrounds you,  light a candle and pray. Let the flicker give you hope as you struggle on your way back to the top.
  2. Same goes for a map. Trust me...I looked before strapping on my boots and found the map for life is written as we live it. Rather than fooling around and wasting time trying to fold your map to look like everyone else...and the frustration that inevitably comes with creating new wrinkles...I highly recommend packing your Bible for guidance. The paths are well laid out, but it's still up to you whether to jig or jag.
  3. Pack Big Chief tablets and #2 pencils. You're going to be charting a lot of bumpy roads, missteps and detours along the way. Accept you're gonna run into a lot of wrong turns made along the way. The past can't be changed, but it can be rerouted. Just be sure to take along a passel of erasers.  You're gonna need them for redirecting your path and for righting mistakes made in the gettin' here from there.
  4. While this may seem like a crazy thing to pack, throw in a hand mirror...a big one. You won't be using it to check your hair roots, but for checking the root of many of your problems. It isn't always pretty, but for a split second, stare into it, face to face, bruises and all, then stick that mirror back in your knapsack. Lingering too long is fruitless and vain without a willigness to  own what is held in the reflection. For me, I know it's there if a reminder is necessary of who I was or where I'd been without turning around or back tracking. There was just too much ground to cover if I wanted to make it out in one piece peace. Glancing in my mirror kept me from lingering too long in one place when I needed to move forward.
  5. Finally, pack a pair of hiking boots and all the stretch pants you own, but don't get too comfortable. You're gonna be stopping a lot to catch your breath and there won't be a lot of easy chairs along the way.  'Course I'd be remiss if I didn't warn you, you may find yourself in the hot seat from time to time. You also need to remember that bats live in caves and with bats comes guano, a heap of it. Be prepared to step in a lot of it, but thankfully, it does wash off. Still... it's gonna get rocky. You''ll need to stay on your toes to keep your footing firm as much as possible when unexpected cracks pop out of nowhere. Know up front, you will stump your toes and get some bumps on the noggin. It's part of the journey, so don't be surprised when you find yourself, like me, falling to your knees...a lot! There will be points in time along the way too low to stand, so tight you can't wiggle your way out and many, many dead ends.
I brought back many souvenirs from my trip and I'll be sharing what I unearthed later. In the meantime, I'll leave you with one other important piece of advice.
 
Never undertake a dig this important without a partner.  There are gonna be moments when you'll cry out for a lifeline to pull you to safety. The last thing you want to hear as the ground starts crumbling around you, is only the echo of your own voice. Echoes from the past can be like quicksand...pulling you farther down. You are gonna hit spots too treacherous to scale alone and more than one time, you are gonna find yourself needing someone to pick you up when you tumble...be it past, present or future.
 
I highly recommend God as your guide. There is no other to go before you to ease your load and bind the wounds incurred along the way. He has yet to abandon me in the pits of despair nor allow me to wallow in the depths of my self-pity. His strong, loving arms always pulls me to safety. His mighty hands reach down, clasp mine and lead me to higher ground. He is the compass continually pointing me in the direction I need to be heading, be it north, south or points unknown.
 
 
~Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.~Psalm 119:105
 
~He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me to the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.~Psalm 23:3