Are Y'all Pickin' Up What I'm Layin' Down?

My, my, my, my, my!

Last week was crazy busy.
Bet y'all thought I got lost on the campaign trail and couldn't find my way home.

Monday, I hosted 5 mini-photo sessions right chear on the back forty of the Casita De Trash. Melissa of Foto Fabulous provided the camera and lens...Jenn of Give Me Props, the styling.  Betwixt their talent and the cutest kids ever, they made this ol' hill...including my raggedy canned ham...look fantastic!  It had to be a 110 in the shade, but you'd never know it to look at these kiddos.  Starting at 9am and ending at noon, they never lost their cool...or their smiles.  If anything...it just kept getting cooler and cooler watching them work it!

Wednesday found the First Cat Daddy and I hittin' the road for a...ahem...political junk-it of our own doing.  Seeing as how Friday was our gazillionth anniversary, we thought a little high-way for a get-a-way to a hide-a-way was in order and IF we happened on some treasures along the way...yippee for us!

Disclosure:  No campaign monies nor public funds were used to finance this trip. All hard earned cash came straight outta the Man's back pocket!

We just lit out, let the road take us where it would and landed right smack dab in Louisiana's Cajun country.

I love this part of our great country.  It's where boudin is sold in every little mom & pop grocery store/gas station...zydeco rocks...and roadside stands beckon with promises of sweet potatoes, shelled peas and butterbeans aplenty.  It's where the folks know how to "work hard...and play harder".  The land of shrimp Ay-2-FAY, hot sauce, rice fields waving hidy in the breeze...and a certain little someone who holds a special place in my heart.  (More on that later y'all...and it's a doozy!) 

If y'all are wonderin' if we had us a good ol' time or not?

W-e-l-l-l...

you can't hardly expect a lady to fess up...and still remain a lady...can ya?

Let's just say we "Laissez les bons temps rouler"...'kay?

Nuff said!

Rollin' along a farm to market road lined with fields of sugar cane, feeling the sense of Acadiana culture ooze from the bayous, that colorful Cajun accented language (that ought to be taught as a second language...it's so romantic soundin'!) makin' everything sound exotic...including us.  It all gave me a hankerin' to stay forever.  Ya know...just sell everything, pack up what's left, find me a shotgun house...and just.stay.put.

But y'all know me...and my dad-burn roots.  They go deep...pert near the center of the earth.

Plain and simple put...I love Louisiana...but I love my Texas more.

I love gas station tamales, Texas drawls, two steppin' to a little Ray Price, bluebonnets...and Cat Daddy.

Crawdaddys may run a close second, but folks...close only counts in horse-shoes.  Nothing can take the place of my Cat Daddy...not after all the time I've put in house-breakin' him. Besides...everybody knows...you can take the bull outta Texas, but you can't take the Texan outta the cowboy.  Cat Daddy is and always will be my cowboy in dusty boots and rusty armor.

When I'm perched in my poodle seat...I never worry about gettin' lost on any trail.  I always ask him at the end of one of our treks...Take me home, Country Road...and you know what?

He always does.

He's the designated driver as we criss-cross life's highway.

Me?

I'm the official map folder...

'cause sometimes the best remembered adventures don't always follow a map.

Sometimes the sweetest memories are best found by the seat of our britches...followin' the light in our eyes.

 

Stumping Grounds

Friends, Texans, countrywomen...lend me your earbobs.

I've been hankerin' for a change of scenery and I've heard tell Washington is pretty in the spring.  I also cotton to the idea of being surrounded by handsome men, dressed in black suits, with Oakley's only for me.  So-o-o...after careful deliberation...and more than a few dirty martinis...I'm throwing my cowboy hat into the political mud pit arena.

After studying and listening to this year's current crop of politicians, I feel I am just as qualified as any of 'em...maybe more.  Heck fire...I'm just as good...maybe gooder...than anybody running...even if I am a girl.

I first thought about Cat Daddy for President, but he's not straight enough.

(Ooops...wait...back up.)

By straight I don't mean to imply he's crookeder than a dog's hind leg...law no!  But when it comes to picking a side...he tends to sit a little wonky on the political fence...kinda like a Weeble-Wobble.  He leans to the left just enough to own a diesel truck, but then again, just enough to the right not to slap a Willie's Bio-Diesel sticker on its bumper.

Fact is, he's all kinda slumped in the middle from shovelin' too much bull corn in the pasture...from both sides of the fence.

He might be a potential VP, but that's puttin' the cart before the horse.  I'm gonna need to have him checked out before making any final decisions.  I sure don't want any of his family skeletons rattlin' outta the closet with mine. I'll be lookin' at other possible running mates...but only for run-along purposes.  Please...I'm known far and wide as a one-cat woman!

(Does make for a good promo photo though doesn't it?)

First thing I need to do is decide which party I'd like to represent.

Democrat...Republican...Independent?

BO--ring!

I hate that someone beat me to that Tea idea. Now there's a name women can identify with, but I think I've decided to start a new party all my own.

How does the Tupperware Party sound to y'all?

  I could be sold, but not bought at party rallies across the nation...making me an instant celebrity...and one red-hot ticket at fund raising dinners.

I'd be air tight, colorful, resealable in case I needed to retract any statements...and the best part?
I'd close every speech with a resounding burp.  That right there should get me every man's vote...even if I am a girl.

Looking over the requirements to be POTUS...I seem to have everything in order.

Good head of hair?
...check.

Big ol' toothy, cheesy, but sincere smile tinged with just the right touch of humility?
...check, check.

Talk a mile a minute in a down-homsey, friendly drawl without ever actually saying anything?
Y'all...I've been known to speak ten words a second with gusts up to fifty!

Over the age of 35?
...maybe
...could be
...sigh
...check.

Birth certificate?
Whoopsie!
Hmmm...Now where the heck did I put that?
Oh well...I'll just look for it later when I'm diggin' around for my past IRS returns.  After all...it's not like anybody's gonna ask to see those any time soon...right?

Now that I got my personal fact sheet all rarin' to go...I reckon the next thing on my personal agenda is making up preparing some campaign promises. A girl can't be expected to sell herself out of an empty wagon...or can she?

Over the next few months, I'll be taking a look-see at some of the issues on the minds of the average American.  There's far too many things keeping Americans up at night to address in a single post, so I'll just tackle one or two as the weeks go by...such as rising medical costs.

My immediate thought?

Don't...get...sick.

I'm kidding...kidding.  I just thought I'd add a little political humor.  You know the old saying...a gaffe a day keeps the doctor away.
I really do have a plan of action and I'll be sharing it in the days to come...pinkie swear.

I'll also be addressing the need for a balanced budget.

Folks...I'm here to tell y'all...I may not be a Rhodes Scholar or have a gazillion degrees from Harvard, but what I've learned in the School of Hard Knocks more than qualifies me to spout off share my learnings.

I've managed to balance the budget here at the Casita de Trash for nigh on 40 years.  I've raised two kids, only had the water turned off once, and can get four meals out of one pound of hamburger...all on a hole digger's salary.  Don't believe me?  I've got the short pencil to prove it.

My way of balancing the budget would be a 4 point plan.

1.  Don't rob Peter to pay Paul.

2.  Never borrow what you can't pay back.

3.  Never lend money you don't have.

And finally...

4.  When painted into a corner and money is dearly needed...hold what could be the world's classiest garage/estate sale...ever!

Y'all...can you even begin to imagine what's collecting dust in the attic and basement of the White House...not to mention the Smithsonian?

Oh.my.lanta!

The "Mamie Pink" furniture alone would probably be enough to cover a year's worth of water bills!

Think people think!

All American made products...except for maybe some "gifts" from overseas.

It could be held on the North Lawn with an admission charge...even more ka-ching!  So what if a little history goes buh-bye in the process.  Shoot...we've already sold off some of America's prime real estate to foreign investors, so what's the diff. Besides...I hear tell politicians are just as apt to forget the history our founding fathers created to better serve the lobbyists country's needs.  Now mind you...don't you go quoting me.  That's just what I've heard tell.   

I've got a lot more talking to do, but the faux-tographers are clamoring for a photo-op as I speak.

In closing, there's four thoughts I'd like to leave you with.

1.  Ask yourself...would this face burp lie to you?

2.  Remember...this is all done for fun...not as an open forum for snarky comments.  I have the power of veto and I'm not afraid to use it.

3.  All opinions are strictly tongue-in-cheek...or maybe tongue sticking straight out.  Either way...if I've offended anyone...don't take it personal.  The biggest joke 'round these parts is me.

4.  I'm needing a catchy campaign slogan.
Whatcha think?

Vote For Our Next Prez:
DEB THE CELEB...THANKS TO THE WEB!

Too Hollywood you reckon?



One person; one vote.
Choose wisely.
   

Road to Utopia

Heavens to Betsy!

Look what came in my e-mail this week.



I still can't quite believe Cat Daddy and I are now two of the 350+!

Quick...somebody pinch me before I get too excited.

Oops...too late.

While enjoying my breakfast of toast, I foolishly did a quick count of the weeks until the show kicks off....and me-thinks I might have wet me-self!  Good thing I'm a woman of...ahem...a slightly older generation who knows the hidden value of a good Depends...otherwise, I'da been changing into dry britches.

Speaking of Depends, dry and toast, that brings up an unpleasant subject.  I hate to tell y'all this, but you can expect a lot of commercials outta me over the next 9 weeks and 5 days.

I know.

You're thinking you're already being bombarded with political ads and now you gotta read infomercials here...right?  I swear y'all...upon a stack of butter pats...nothing negative will come outta this keyboard.

Pinky swear.

Sadly, It's part of the job.  Besides...I need to make sure y'all can find me on that sleepy, little, two-lane stretch of road known as Hwy. 237.

When I say sleepy, you best understand that's under normal circumstances...'cause twice a year, during Antiques Weeks, the sleeping giant awakens with a roar.  It morphs into Fayette County's version of Interstate 20...complete with jaywalkers, bumper to bumper traffic and honking horns.  On the plus side...and this is a big ol' plus...it also comes with handsome lawmen on horseback for traffic/people control.

Top that big city life!

(I'm getting positively giddy just talking about it.) 

I don't want to lose any readers from an ad blitz, but people...I got bills to pay and stuff to buy.  In an effort to keep from being too boring when I'm trying to sell myself (and let's be honest here...I'm selling Cat Daddy and me as much I as am our merchandise!),  I plan on offering up sneak peeks as the weeks turn into days.  I won't be showing y'all too much though.  Think of it as a strip tease...junker style.  I'll show just enough to make you wanna see more, but hold back just enough to stir your imagination!  Gypsy Rose Lee I ain't, but I still got a little dango in my fan...wait and see!



One of my window displays at Winnie & Tulula's



All I ask is y'all keep riding shotgun with me...please. 

I promise you up and down, the ride may get a little wild from time to time, but it's gonna be smooth blacktop once we get where we're going.

How do I know you ask?

Simple.

God's been shoving all the boulders off my road...one rock at a time.

Pinning My Hopes And Dreams

Law.

That's it.

Well maybe...

law and...

Oh mylanta.

Making the decision to move yonder down the road a piece to Marburger Farm Antique Show, I didn't take into consideration all the talent held within those tents. 

The current crop of Marburger vendors are known for their killer styling as much as their primo merchandise.

They're a hard act to follow or set up next to...especially for a newbie like me.  Not that there is competition going on mind you.  Thank goodness for that or I'd be out before I ever began.  It's just they're good...really good...did I mention outstanding...at displaying.

See...I'm used to working with whatever I have left after selling while we're unloading.  I travelled by the seat of my britches and displayed without a plan.  I never took the time to lay everything out on paper.  I knew where the big pieces would land and that was it.  Sometimes it worked...and sometimes it was one big ol' hot mess.

(Debriz Sale June 2010)

Sadly, that ain't gonna work this time outta the chute.

To be sure, we've got the primo merch covered, but faced with the quandary of being 5'2",  the talent bar set at 10'...and not enough time to grow a coupla feet...I gotta stretch my imagination!

Quick...somebody get me a pole so I stand a fighting chance.

Where does one go to find a 10' pole you ask?

Why she goes to Pinterest when she has nothing else to do...she says with a wink and a smirk!

Pinterest...the land of milk and honey where inspiration abounds, free for the taking.

Displays and curtains and props...oh my!

(Debriz Sale June 2010)

(I promise I won't be stealing copying borrowing  recreating another's designs...'cause that just ain't kosher, but I will be letting the images fuel my need for seed.)

Pinterest is the place dreams are made of.  It's where beautiful rooms collide with fabulous fluffs of chocolate desserts.  Where everything is organized with nary a chipped nail or a french-braided hair outta place.  It's where books are catalogued and art curated.  Where women dress to the nines, in 6" heels and arm parties stretching up to the shoulders.  It's the place where kids, dogs, and kitchens are always spotless.

It's Neverland...as in it's never gonna happen in our real world...no where...no way...no how.

Do we care?

Not us.

(Winnie & Tulula's window July 2010)

It's where we let our minds travel.  To pin and dream of fairy dust and Peter Pan to our heart's content, knowing all the while, we're actually a bunch of Wendys at our core.

How do I know?

Simply by THIS...my numero uno repin...

The miracle cleaner that only takes minutes to use...and it's not even my idea or original pin!

(Debriz Sale June 2010)

Why else would this be repinned before images of potting sheds and sumptuous gardens?

I'll tell you why...even though you didn't ask.

For the same reason when checking out Pinterest for clever display ideas for Marburger or what to wear when I'm dining with the Queen, I'm also looking for that elusive unicorn we're all dreaming of the most.

TIME...

in a bottle.

A baker's dozen...please...and make it C.O.D.!

(In the wake of recent terrifying news, I'd like to add my prayers for the people of Colorado. After experiencing the devastating wildfires, they are now reeling from the senseless devastation from gunfire.  God be with them...and all of us.)

Follow the Leader

Do any of y'all remember playing "Mother May I" as a child...or am I dating myself by asking?
Silly question...right?
If you love me...don't answer that!

It was one of the few games I actually enjoyed during recess.  Well, it and jumping rope, but my rope jumping skills are stories for a later date.  Suffice it to say I was good...real good!

I never could break through the wall o'arms in Red Rover, but could always manage to break a vein in my wrist while serving in volleyball.  I was never tall enough to win at tetherball, but short enough to be the perfect human target in dodgeball.  In other words...I sucked.  Time after time, I suffered the humiliation of always being the last one picked for any team games requiring hand-to-eye coordination.

"Mother May I" was a whole different ballgame.  All I had to do was ask permission...and move forwards or backwards.

Mother may I take two baby steps?

Mother may I take a Cinderella step?


Zapp Hall Fall 2010



Sometimes the answer was yes and sometimes it was take three giant steps back.  Either way...the decision for proceeding "home" was made by someone other than me and I didn't end up looking like the dweeb I was when the school bell rang.

Zapp Hall Fall 2011

With age comes wisdom...or so they say.  It took a lot of wrinkles aging for me to realize that managing my life is much like a game of "Mother May I" only now it's "Father...May I".  When I've had to make life choices, deciding on my own without first seeking guidance, I've had to accept the consequences of sleeping in the bed I made in my haste.  Let me tell y'all...I don't like wrinkled sheets any better'n  a wrinkled face.  It didn't take this ol' gal long to figure out...I couldn't keep going backwards if I planned on making it home by the time the bell rang.



Zapp Hall Spring 2009

 I've been struggling with a problem that reared it's ugly head a little over a year ago.  Without going into detail, it was getting harder and harder for me to do the nine day Zapp Hall show...and that's not counting set-up days.  The time commitment, my age, my health, never knowing if Cat Daddy would be able to stay for the duration...all these things were beginning to burden me.  I love this show and the people in it with all my heart, but those two weeks were taking their toll.  Law...it was taking a month for me just to recuperate once we got back home.  I knew in my heart I couldn't continue to ignore the signs...I wasn't a young chick anymore.

Zapp Hall Fall 2009

We love being there, but I knew I had to think of the possibility of changing directions.  I also knew if I tried to make the decision on my own without seeking His guidance, I'd end up taking giant umbrella steps and twirling outta control.

Zapp Hall Spring 2001

I began praying.

Father, must I make this leap of faith?


Zapp Hall Fall 2010

 My answer came last week in a fortuitous phone call.

This fall...we will be at Antiques Week...just not at Zapp in our familiar location by Royers and the beer garden.

This fall...come October 2-6...we will be first time vendors at Marburger Farm in Tent H, space 9!

Am I scared and nervous?

Oh mylanta...you'll never know how much.



Zapp Hall Fall 2008



I know every blade of grass...every rock...every ant hill on that small piece of real estate we've called home since 2000.  I can lay out our space blindfolded.  I know where the lights will hang, where the big pieces will be, and what I can and can't get away with.  We have shoppers/friends who have been coming to us since that first show 12 years ago.

I'm not exactly sure where we even unload at Marburger, we'll be so green...but am I excited?

You bet your cowgirl boots I am!

We'll be close to friends we love...spittin' distance in fact.



Spring Show 2012

 The show is 4 days of closed set-up time and 5 days of open for business.  My days will be shorter, leaving time for visiting in the evening...a luxury I've never allowed myself.



Zapp Hall Fall 2008


                                                                The very best part?

Cheryl is a woman of faith.
This has been so important to me while at Zapp.  She and her family are believers in the power of prayer and walk the talk every day.

Ashley at Marburger is a woman of faith.
When I told her I needed to pray about my decision...she didn't need to hear another word.  Told me to take all the time I felt I needed because she herself did nothing without talking to Him first.

How blessed am I to have the opportunity to work not once, but twice with folks like this?

Rarely...and that my friends is the answer I was seeking...no...needing.



Zapp Hall Fall 2009



It's hard saying goodbye to the people we've come to regard as family, but weighing it all out, it's what we believe in our hearts is His plan for us and must follow where He leads.

Besides...it'll only be down the road a hop, skip and a jump...

and how fitting for the next leg of our journey.

I'm linking to Debra's Common Ground VIF. Wonderful inspiration just a click away.

As Texan as Royer's Pie

Ya know...after writing the previous post, it got me to wondering if we really have rubbed all the shiny offa blogging.  Blogging for me became an outlet for writing and continues to do so.  It allows me to put in words, the voices in my head...without actually having people catch me talking to myself.

Curious to see how far I'd come with my word skills, I decided to do a little sleuthing in my own back-yard and reread some of my earliest posts.  Some of what I dug up needs to stay buried deep in the files, but as I read the comments, I could feel the sweet rush that came at the beginning. 

Rereading my old posts also rejuvenated the sense of accomplishment that came with posting.

   The point is...stepping outta the boat and hitting publish the first time was scary, but exciting.  I couldn't wait for that first comment and bless her heart...Sweet T was my one and only!

Garden Antiques said...

Deb:  Wow!! Your first entry, how exciting!!  Let me know if you need any help.  See ya soon, T

July 14, 2008 1:02 pm

Had Theresa not made that first step and then went on to take further steps by introducing me to her blog readers, I'd probably still be waiting for that first comment.  She didn't wait for permission...just did it.  She went on to be my go-to when I didn't have a clue and always answered my never-ending questions.  She encouraged me and was my biggest cheerleader.  I know I'm not alone. She helped so many new bloggers and we all need to drop in en masse and just say thank you every so often...ya know?

I guess I had allowed myself to become blase' about blogging, but no more.  When I read a new blogger and feel their excitement jumping off the page, I know blogging shouldn't be regarded an unpleasant chore...kinda like cleaning the toilet.  It should be the best of me being shared with the best of y'all.  I don't have to be chained to the keyboard or duty bound to post on a certain day at a certain time.  I'm free to relish in the written word and the opportunity to make new friends.

As SweetT did for me four years ago, I'd like to follow her lead by paying it forward...starting today.

Photography by April Pizanna.com

I don't know of a soul around these parts who hasn't heard of Royer's Round Top Cafe and Bud the Pieman's famous pie, but let me now introduce you to Tara...the Pie Queen.

Tara is part of the whole pie adventure of Round Top and while that alone makes her outstanding...she is so much more.  She's mother, wife, font doodler extraordinaire (her signs knock me out), and a beautiful young woman... inside and out.  She just started blogging and her blog is gorgeous, filled with color...and pie!  She rocks the Greatest Generation's style with  a whole lotta va-va-va-voom, serving up a piece of her heart all wrapped up in a slice of warm pie.

Psst...don't tell her, but I stole borrowed this darlin' photo from her blog!  Is this not the cutest ever?  I figure that makes us just about even since she stole my heart with her post The Power of Pie...And The Strength Of A Little Boy.  I should warn you...take tissues and be prepared to rethink your life.

She reminds me of why blogging will always have a place in my life.  I ask y'all...just where else on this green earth would I ever get the opportunity to share her...and two of my favorite things...Texas and pecan pie...with all of y'all?

So high-tail it on over there and you'll get two rewards for the trip.

One...her words

and two...

mine.

  

   

Shell Shocked

~What I Didn't Do On My Summer Vacation-Part III~

Recently while reading Robelyn's post on her 4 year blog anniversary, it occurred to me I should check out the date of my own maiden launch.  Lo and behold...would you believe it?  I've been sucking all the air outta a room for 4 years myself!  I did a trial post in June, but actually sat down, loaded photos and started talking July 12, 2008, and I haven't run outta words...yet.

I realize how lax I've become and find myself posting less and less with each passing year, but you know what?  Stumbling around blogland, I see I'm not the Lone Stranger.  Everyone seems to have the same problems finding the time to post when just last year...there was time a'plenty.

  Wha' happened?

Was there an outbreak of fits and starts while I wasn't looking?

I've got me a coupla theories and even though you didn't ask...I'm gonna share 'em with you in honor of all the words I've typed over the last 4 years.

Plain and simple...blogging has lost it's shiny.

Like kids with a new toy, we shook the box, took it out for a spin and loved it to pieces.  We played with it for hours on end, sometimes broke it when it didn't need fixing, then upon spotting something newer and shinier outta the corner of our eye...proceeded to chunk it in a closet.  Oh we intended to come back later when time allowed and play with it again, but much like Woody in Toy Story, we forgot it was there.  We were way too busy tilt-a-whilrling on our new playgrounds...dizzy with excitement.  We always intended to get back to it, but when we did, we I realized two weeks had passed since our my last post.

In our high-tech, high-speed world, we depend...nay we crave...instant gratification.  If we need inspiration...click...we've got Pinterest where inspiration abounds with no strings attached.  No commenting...no interaction...nada.  Nothing needed but a good pair of eyes, an itchy trigger finger, and a password.  Same goes for FaceBook.  Feel a need to make a little chit-chat?  Just type in the ol' password and commence visiting...or lurking...your call.

Blogging requires a certain amount of self-discipline, a myriad of thoughts, and a willingness to share.  Things all of us were anxious to do at the get-go, but now...mmmm...not so much.  Fact is...it was easier when it was new and exciting, but as the reality of all the work involved with posting set in, we realized Pinterest/FB was simpler and just like that...the honeymoon was over.  Where Blogger was our House of Smoke and Mirrors, we were craving the Fun-House with it's spinning Barrel o'Love and having our skirts blown up over our heads. 

Hmmm...speaking of reality.

I've been reading mumblings/grumblings of reality disappearing in blogging, but honestly folks...when...if ever...was there any?  I mean, let me ask y'all one question.  How many of y'all want to see Cat Daddy's dirty underwear sittin' in a laundry basket?  Really?  C'mon...y'all all know that basket is just outta camera range, but tell the truth...wouldn't you rather gaze at seashells and dream of packing for the beach?  Wouldn't you rather pretend you hear waves crashing and not a washer filling?   Do you really need a screen-shot of C.D.'s tidy whities to remind you of chores waiting to be tackled? 'Cause if you do folks...just say the magic words...and have I got some reality for you!

Another complaint I've read is the amount of marketing/ads in blogland these days.  It does seem a few blogs are just one big ol' giant commercial, but I don't necessarily see that as a bad thing.  Just because some enterprising folks were clever enough to find a way to take the guilt outta blogging by making a little jingle-jangle for themselves and their efforts...I ask you...what's wrong with that?  (I'd like to add there is a huge difference between being a blogger-for-hire and self-promotion, but let's table that discussion for another day...'kay?)  Believe you me...I would if I could, but who's kidding who?  I can't even manage to get a post up once a week...much less 3-4 times weekly.  These folks have committed to way more work than I'm willing to do. They have to blog on a regular basis...key word here regular...while I sit on my git-a-long needing expecting  wanting to be committed, but lacking the self-motivation.  Y'all want reality...I'll give you reality.  I applaud those who find a way to make a blog pay, but the reality is...am I a little jealous of their business acumen?  I ain't gonna lie...heck yeah.  Am I willing to make plans to change my M.O.?  Not just no...but heck no.  Not saying I won't ever change...I just don't like to.  I'm a creature of habit...and that is my reality.

Law...I'll tell you one thing that never changes here at the Casita de Trash.  I still love the sound of my own voice, but for those of y'all who didn't click off three paragraphs ago...I'll cut to the chase.

For the last 4 years...I thank you from the bottom of my heart for hanging around here.  Just think of me as your neighborhood pool hall.  Noisy as all-get-out, racking my brains while trying to chalk up thoughts to share, and from time to time...getting caught behind the eight ball.

Now...what say I put a caboose to this train of thought and in the continued spirit of keeping it real answer some unasked questions?

1.  Yes...I am lazy when it comes to posting.  There...I've said it.  No apologies...I y'am what I y'am!

2.  Yes...I love to talk and plan to go on blogging...until told to hush...or hit with a gag order.

3.  And yes...as I hold a seashell up to my ear to hear the waves...I hear instead God's voice instructing me to hold on tight.

Changes ARE on my horizon.

Whether I like it or not...

Planned or unplanned...

Big changes.