Thankful: Final Installment

I promised in my last blog not to be too serious in this blog posting…but I am thankful for the normal things everyone else is thankful for: my husband, our family, our house, our church, my faith, being able to live in the great city of Alcoa, living in a free country…you know, all the normal stuff. But when I think about it all, I realize I’m thankful for other things, too…so let the thankfulness begin!

I’m thankful for flameless candles. As many candles as I have in my house, you’d think it was a Catholic Church minus the statues. And all the candles are the kind you must light with a match or lighter. One exception: the candle in our bedroom. Hubby and I both wear masks hooked to C-Pap machines when we sleep. With the hoses and headgear we resemble the characters in the opening bar scene of the first Star Wars movie. (Get frisky and we'd electrocute one another!) But my hubby has to have oxygen along with the forced air from the C-Pap. If I decided to set a romantic mood and light a candle in our bedroom, it could turn deadly with a lit candle and oxygen. Hence, the flameless candle…a battery-operated, slightly scented, mood setter.

I’m thankful for multiple pairs of eyeglasses, reading glasses and contact lenses. You wouldn’t think I could be thankful for them at all because I lay them down and lose them on a regular basis. I don’t need them all the time so I might need a little GPS device that will take me to them when they’re lost...of course, unless a pair is on my head, which has happened many times.

I’m thankful for my dog, Dobie. He starts his day curled up in my lap as I lay in bed reading the morning paper. When I come in the door after being gone for five minutes or five days, I still get the same greeting…as if I am his favorite human! Then when my hubby comes in, I am reminded of who Dobie’s real favorite human is.

I’m thankful for nail polish. It fixes things. Runs in stockings…broken teacup handles…bumpers. I had a navy blue van that got a little crunch on the back bumper that was terribly visible, so I used my daughter’s navy-colored nail polish and hid the mistake I’d made by backing into someone’s sedan. The only damage on the other car was a little navy blue paint on their bumper.

I’m thankful that Skyline Chili was created.

I’m thankful for make-up. If you saw me in the mornings without it, you would understand why.

I’m thankful for Ore-Ida coming up with those frozen potatoes that I can steam in the microwave, mash them with a little butter and milk, and have people think I worked a lot more than I did to make that side dish.

I’m thankful for Sam’s Club. Where else can I buy 18 rolls of paper towels in a pack or a 24 roll package of bathroom tissue? My hubby is thankful that when we shop at Sam's while all the food samples are out, he doesn’t have to take me to a restaurant on our way home.

I’m thankful for pre-lit Christmas trees…peanut butter…my recliner…my Verizon phone with navigation, a guitar tuner, and a rubbery plastic cover around it because it gets dropped so much.

I’m grateful for facebook because I’ve been able to reconnect with friends from childhood, former churches and my family

I am grateful for my “MacBook Air for Dummies” book…for seat warmers in my CRV (except when I don’t realize I’ve dropped a piece of candy that ends up being melted into my pants when I’m on my way to a meeting)…for good neighbors…hair products…and Intuition Razors because I shave my legs every day and they don’t cut me to shreds. (Yes, I shave my legs every day. If I don’t, I can’t get to sleep at night. Maybe I’m OCD about this, but my legs always feel good when I climb under the sheets!)

I’m thankful someone thought of belly-button rings, because I may need to have my belly-button pierced, so I’ll have someplace to hook my bra a few years from now!

I’m thankful for Reese’s Peanut Butter Minis because I don’t have to waste time unwrapping them. I can just zip open the bag and chug! I’m thankful for our gym where I can walk on the treadmill, ride the bike and hopefully work off some of the calories I’ve consumed from the aforementioned bag.

I’m thankful for Panera, Cheddars, Olive Garden, Cracker Barrel and Five Guys. I’m thankful that my husband doesn’t expect me to eat at Chick-Fil-A every time he does. I’m thankful my daughter and son-in-law are cooking Thanksgiving dinner and I’m not.

And I’m thankful for those of you who actually read to the end of this blog…and not because you might be OCD and just had to finish it.




Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!

Thankful: Part Two

More thankfulness oozing from me…this time for my daughter Hannah Elizabeth Green Slaughter…thus, part two. Her daddy was the subject of my first “Thankful” post…which makes sense since she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him!

I never truly understood my mother when she would say that she loved so much she thought her heart could burst. Now I get it.

I understood it the first time I felt her flutter in my belly…the first time I saw her moving in the ultrasound as the nurse kept explaining what we were looking at. I had seen enough ultrasounds that I knew what to look for, but poor Joe just kept saying, “uh-huh” until he finally told the nurse he had no clue what she was pointing at. So she jiggled my tummy a bit…the baby began moving her legs and all of a sudden Joe could see this little person we had both fallen in love with!!!

And then she was born. Details are too many to share in this posting but one day I will tell you about the miracle that Hannah Beth really is. I was totally taken with this little blessing. All newborn babies look like Winston Churchill. Or at least until MY baby was born! She was beautiful…is beautiful.

I’m thankful for the little girl who was so curious at every turn…who would walk through a store when she was three years old and look with her eyes and not her hands. She would literally hold her hands behind her back, walking and looking at merchandise. Sales people were amazed at her. I was proud of her. Then we’d take her to restaurants and she would order asparagus. Servers would ask how we got her to do that. I have no clue. But I can tell you that at the age of 26 she is one of the most adventurous foodies I know!

When I think of all the sketchpads, pencils and markers we would purchase before a trip so that Hannah could draw in the car…I am thankful that investment paid off. She is an amazing graphic designer and illustrator and gets MONEY for what she loves! I’m thankful that HGTV took notice of her work and have her in their employ.

She makes me smile! My daughter is quirky…she has a style all her own…brown eyes (I always wanted a brown-eyed baby)…incredibly long eyelashes…a smile that is infectious and a laugh to go with it. Hannah is inventive, sassy, curious, and creative. She is a boot-lover…wears pearls…can put an outfit together and add that ‘just-one-more-thing’ to make the look perfectly hers! Her tastes in clothing, decorating, cooking and everything else she ventures into make me want to be like her when I grow up!

Music flows easily from her fingers and through her voice. A friend told me yesterday that she doesn’t really know Hannah, but loves watching her lead worship music on Sunday mornings because it just makes her happy. I understand that. It makes me happy, too.

My daughter is married to a gentleman. A handsome, thoughtful, musical, smart, stylish, talented (did I mention handsome?) man. I could likely compose a blog all about him but he’d hate that. But if I were to mention one more thing I’m thankful for that is connected to my daughter…it would be my son-in-law. I really like this guy!

I enjoyed the baby she was…the little girl…the kid…the teenager and the college woman. But I can tell you that as fun as all that was (except sometimes when hormones were raging during her teens) I really like the woman she is now. Being her mom is the best thing I could have ever have been!


Oh my. I’ve become WAY too serious in these two blog postings!!! It’s time to get back to my normal nonsense. Before Thanksgiving I will definitely find some funny things that I’m thankful for.




Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!

Thankful: Part One

You know how I can tell that Thanksgiving is near? Because the cost of Halloween stuff is 75% off in the stores and Christmas decorations have been up since October!

Somehow we just breeze right through these last months of the year, don’t we? While I’m contemplating emptying my “Christmas Closet” this week (and splashing my house with decorations that will remain up until the first week of 2012) I don’t want to skip the “being thankful” part.

Maybe it is pathetic that I just typed that last sentence…

I am thankful every single day!

For instance…I’m thankful for my husband, Joe.

This is a man who loved his mother dearly, showing me that he knew how to treat a lady…the one that is my best friend who makes me laugh…sleeps next to me every night wearing a C-Pap mask just like I do (if we got frisky with those things on, we’d likely electrocute one another)…the one who sings “Only You” to me at random times…has this cute little growl when I rub his back as we’re hugging…dances with me in the kitchen…the man who, so he won’t awaken me, carefully takes the magazine from my hands and the reading glasses off my nose because I’ve fallen asleep before he climbs into the bed…thanks me after every single meal, even when it is just a peanut butter and banana sandwich because we are both too tired to bother with anything else…the guy who doesn’t order dessert but offers to help me with mine…the guy who clicks his pen while he’s thinking (which drives me crazy but at least I know he is awake and in control of the TV remote)…the man who is an excellent provider…my leaf raking hero (I’m the blower)…the one who knows my favorite store (C.J. Banks) and shops there for Christmas…who tells me I’m beautiful even when I’m not wearing makeup and have on my favorite gray lounging pants and a humongous tee-shirt with Mickey Mouse on the front…the man that comes up and wraps his arms around me while I’m doing dishes…and gives me playful squeezes when I least expect it (and lets me squeeze him back every time)…who brings the paper-plus-a-poodle to me in bed every weekday morning…the guy who is delightfully the same at home with me as he is everywhere else he goes…who seems to know when I need encouragement…loves me unconditionally…who feeds my soul in every Sunday morning sermon and throughout the week with the very life he leads…a man I don’t deserve, but am very thankful he chose me to be the one he took to the cemetery to propose to…and the wonderful father to our daughter, which brings me to my next blog posting. This is just some of what makes me thankful for Joe. There is much, much more.

Will you be thankful to God for someone or something today?

Have I helped you make a start on that?

Good. Then my job here is done…until next time.



Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!

Terminology

They used to be called Used Cars. Now they are called Pre-Owned Cars.

Instead of using the search engine on your computer to obtain information on the World Wide Web you just Google it!

I’m awfully thankful that I never heard my daughter say, “Mom, I think I must have poison ivy because I have an uneasy irritating sensation in the upper surface of my skin that must be the result of a mild stimulation of my pain receptors.” By the time she’d have said all that, I could have already pulled the anti-itch cream out of our medicine cabinet.

Many merchants have instructed employees not to say “Merry Christmas!” In order not to offend any shoppers, they must say, “Happy Holidays.”

Because some folks want to be politically correct, our schools don’t have Christmas Break anymore…it’s called Winter Break. Give me a break!

Why can’t they just call something what it is?

It used to be called Constipation. Then it was called Irregularity. Just this morning, I heard a new one for constipation: Slow Intestinal Transit. Eating breakfast at that moment, I almost spit out my mouthful of oatmeal (long-cooking, of course, for Intense Fiber Therapy) when I heard that one!!!

But I totally understand why Hemorrhoids are not called Piles anymore. That’s just disgusting!




Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!

Laughter makes my face hurt!

With all the trips I’ve made the last several months one thing has remained constant…laughter. I’ve been with people that made me laugh, laughed with me and even had a few times when people laughed AT me!

Have you ever been with a friend and you start a story, the friend adds to it and pretty soon both of you are laughing uncontrollably? You can't even finish the story because you’re both crumbling into laughter with every breath! That happened to me several times this summer. It happened to me today when a friend and I had lunch and stayed at the table waaaay too long, laughing and talking and laughing some more! Thank you, Angie…I needed that!

While in Ohio I spent a night at my friend Linda’s house. Linda Daft is this sweet, precious, gullible friend and I just couldn’t help myself. I cannot share with you what we giggled about because I’d have to kill you, but I can promise you that I laughed so hard my water broke and I’m not even pregnant!!!

On a trip to Delaware I took a side road and spent one night with friends from my radio days in Chattanooga. Ed and I worked together at a couple of stations. (I’ve mentioned him in a previous blog…the guy that was smart enough to know I wasn’t a reporter.) I hadn’t seen them in a while…in fact hadn’t seen her since I sang in their wedding 26 years ago. Ed and his wife Tricia live in Fredericksburg, Virginia. Driving there was a pure joy because the countryside was so beautiful! I enjoyed a delicious meal in their home. And FABULOUS dessert…Oatmeal Pie! (check out Tricia’s blog “Saving Room for Dessert” at www.savingdessert.com) After dinner, we sat in their den and visited for a long time. The dogs kept us entertained. Abby, the Jack Russell Terrier, is one funny little gal! There is a drawer where she hides her treats and will sit there staring at it till someone opens it for her! She also loves to chase laser lights and sunlight with shadows. Funny little girl! So is Mocha, but she wasn’t quite as goofy as her ‘sister.’ Between laughing at the dogs and telling stories from ‘the old days’ I think I laughed more than I had in a long time. In fact, when I went to bed that night, turned out the light and got very still…I realized that my face hurt! It actually hurt! Ached! And my cheeks were still sore the next morning! It’s good to laugh like that every once in a while…

I continued my drive the next day to spend the weekend in Delaware, where I had the opportunity to reconnect with another friend from radio whom I hadn’t seen in 20 years. Kathy and I have stayed in touch over the years even though we haven’t been face to face, and again, laughter permeated the conversation. We shed a few tears, too. Kathy and I have tons in common! She has this great sense of humor and we have always had fun together…this visit was no exception. The only problem was that it didn’t last nearly long enough!! (by the way, she is the lovely lady I'm hugging in the above picture...taken at RX-107 where we worked together in 1990 and 91)

Then there was the visit with our host at his condo in Delaware. I say ‘our’ because my sister and I spent time with this friend from Ohio...a friend that I’ve loved since I was 9 years old. Vangie flew in…I drove…and we had a great time at the beach even though it rained the whole time we were there. Ron lives in Baltimore and invited my sister and me to visit him at his condo at Rehoboth Beach. The three of us spent plenty of our time laughing. Time may have passed but we were all able to pick right up where we left off…

The best person I can laugh with is my husband! Joe is one of the funniest people I have ever known! I heard his laugh before I ever laid eyes on him! No kidding! I turned around to see who had that WONDERFUL, full laugh and there he was. Maybe I could say it was ‘love at first laugh’ because I truly was attracted to that laugh. And it sure didn’t hurt that he was a hunk! Still is!

There have been nights when we’d lay in bed and talk about our day…pretty soon laughing uncontrollably…then adding something else to it, causing more raucous laughter! I remember when our daughter was little, she would yell from the other end of the hall: “I wish you two would be quiet! There are SOME people who have to go to school tomorrow!!!”

It’s better that she heard laughter instead of arguments.

Proverbs 17:22 in the New Living Translation reads: “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.” So, obviously, friends…to quote James Brown: “I feel good….doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo…just like I knew that I would now…!” (for the rest of the day that song will be stuck in your head)

There are times when I don’t think I have anything to laugh about, or even smile about. But then something happens and I laugh so hard that I have tears running down my leg.

If this blog posting made you laugh, then I’ve done what I set out to do!



Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!

The Big Squeeze

Had my annual mammogram this week. My sister and I call it ‘the big squeeze.’ If this topic is a little too personal for you, stop reading here.

Okay, so you’re still reading. Either you’re an advocate of the preventative measures that we should go through to catch breast problems in early stages…or maybe you’re interested in my take on the whole 'squeezing' process. Or maybe you’re just curious how in the world a well-endowed woman responds to a mammogram. I can tell you that she responds with being sore (but thankful for a tool to pinpoint problems early). She also responds with amazement that two plates can come together and...well…I’ll save that for later just in case you want to stop reading now.

When the tech asked me if I do regular breast self-exams, I was embarrassed to tell her that I only do it when I think of it. And I don’t think of it much.

That isn’t good enough.

There is a history of breast cancer in my mother’s family. Her older sister had it. I don’t remember details about it, but Mother told me that her father had a lump removed from one of his breasts late in his life. Don’t even know what the biopsy results were…but I know Grandpa had a heart attack when he left for Heaven. I’ve had a complete hysterectomy in 1992 but I’d rather tell people I’ve been spayed because it gets more laughs. Because of the “spay-ment” I take a dose of estrogen every morning and night. That drives up my chances of breast cancer. And I’m stupid enough to have spent all these years NOT checking myself regularly.

Not anymore…

I’ve made the decision to take care of this on a regular basis. I’m going to mark my calendar and DO this! I’ll mark it just like I do to remind myself to give our poodle Dobie his heartworm medicine. The pharmaceutical company provided the reminder stickers and they are in the shape of a heart because (obviously) we love our dogs so we’ll give them the meds they need.

That heart will also remind me to do my monthly breast self-exam. I love my dog. I also love my breasts. Yes, they are bigger than I’d like, but I like how my clothes fit with them.

Friends, I am living proof that God answers prayer! I didn’t really need a bra until I was 16. You think I’m kidding! It’s true. I learned how to make a perfect collection of tissues to fit in my bras…all the while praying that God would give me real breasts. Maybe I sang “Fill My Cup, Lord” too many times because I’m totally blessed! Before starting my diet last year, I was a DD cup. After losing 30 pounds, I’m down to a D cup. It was kind of exciting for me to shop for bras again! I can buy pretty ones!

Is any of this offending you? Well, then why in the world are you still reading? I told you to stop! Didn’t I tell you to stop?

Okay…back to The Big Squeeze.

The machine that takes these important pictures is massive. There are pedals on the floor on each side so the technician can adjust the plates and angles with just a little tap of her foot. As I stood where the technician told me to stand and leaned in just like she told me to lean…she ‘stretched’ me across the plate. (Small-breasted women can stop reading now because you will NOT understand what I’m about to describe.) The technician stretched my breast across the plate and then stepped on the floor pedal that lowers the other plate onto the top of my breast. That plate, in turn, flattens my D-cup endowment to the depth of a Cracker Barrel biscuit. Granted, it looks like a biscuit as big around as a dinner plate…but I think I’m pretty close with the depth. Please don’t let this scare you out of getting a mammogram. My description could be better, I’m sure…but I am trying to help you picture this whole scenario and I’m always happy to use food comparisons.

One breast down (so to speak) and one to go: I stand again and lean again…just like I’m told. There’s another giant Cracker Barrel biscuit stretching out before my eyes, but this time the tech says something like “oh dear!” And my biscuit is getting flatter! Suddenly she releases the plates by hand and said, “Mrs. Green, your foot is on the pedal.” It was ME flattening out that giant biscuit!

I had moved my leg/foot to the side because my right knee hurts most of the time and after all, I was standing in an awkward position. Moving my foot allowed me to stand more comfortably. The problem was I moved my foot over to the little pedal on the floor and I didn’t feel it! I can tell you that I certainly felt the effects of that pedal before the technician released the plates!!!

Are you still reading? You okay with all this personal stuff I’ve shared?

I’m glad you kept reading. I hope your reading of this blog entry will encourage you to take care of your breasts. Check them regularly and have regular mammograms, according to your doctor’s recommendation.

And, while the technician is placing your ‘ta-tas’ on the plate…it might not seem important, but be careful where you place your feet!



Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!

Predictable Creatures of Habit

This is a redundant title, but considering I went off on Geraldo Rivera for his redundancy in my last blog posting, I’ll claim ‘creative license’ and forget it.

Do you have little habits…or quirks, if you will?

I do. I will not take your time listing my bad habits. Beside the fact that there are too many for just one blog posting…a lot of my bad habits are visible for all to see. One example is bad eating habits. One look at my shape gives that one away. Clue Phone, Beth…it’s for you! Some are good habits such as making the bed as soon as I get out of it. I do that even before I go to the little room to relieve the pressure that has been building in my bladder since the night before when I killed off a 16.9 oz. bottle of water. I call that my physical alarm clock, but for blogging purposes, we will call it ‘going to the potty’ first thing out of the chute! And trust me when I tell you I can make a bed in RECORD time!

If I make my bed right away, two things are accomplished:
1. The room looks so much nicer with our bed properly covered and filled with the odd number of pillows – seven – that I anal-retentively place there every day. (I have this compulsion to put an odd number of pillows on the bed, an odd number of decorative items on our mantle, tables, etc.)
2. With the bed made, I won’t be tempted to prop myself up in it again just to read the paper and chance falling asleep because I’m so comfy!

They say (whoever ‘they’ are) that if you will do something 21 days in a row, you can form a habit. Maybe that is why I’ve had such a bad habit of eating Reese’s Peanut Butter Mini’s! I’ll soon need to join RPBMA (Reese’s Peanut Butter Minis Anonymous) to help me stop that habit after the summer I’ve spent traveling! I’m almost certain I’ve had them 21 days in a row!

But I digress, which is something I seem to do here on a regular basis.

My husband is a ‘creature of habit.’ When we eat at our favorite Mexican restaurant, El Sazon, he orders Diet Coke and a #6…or “numero seis” as he loves to pronounce it to the server (who might not be impressed that Joe can speak two words in Spanish – but I am). When he eats Chik-Fil-A (his favorite) he orders a Diet Coke, Waffle Fries and a Chicken Sandwich. (I would impress you with knowing the combo number, but I don’t eat there with him enough to become familiar with it.) When he isn’t dieting, he orders a Brownie to finish off the combo. Cracker Barrel: the Wholesome Morning Sampler with what else?!? A Diet Coke!

Then there is the whole shopping-for-shoes thing. My sweetheart will go into the Rockport Outlet Store in Pigeon Forge, search the L O N G E S T time for the perfect pair of shoes, pay for them, bring them home, leave them in the shopping bag for a several days, take them out of the bag and set the box down with the shoes still in it (for another few days), pull them out of the box and walk around a bit on the carpet…put them away and then wait another week before deciding whether to return them for another pair. Then the whole process starts again. Comfort is important and something my husband takes quite seriously!

As you see, my husband is a creature of habit. Or maybe I should say he is predictable but only with certain things. If you want to know a real creature of habit, you should meet our toy poodle, Dobie. This creature is like a little old man with his routine. Do not mess with his routine.

Dobie sleeps in a crate. He loves to be next to us while we’re sitting, but doesn’t particularly enjoy sleeping with us. He might start out there, but will end up in his crate before the night is over. A dog that puts himself to bed is an okay pet for me! (Why couldn’t my kid do that?!?) I do like it in the winter though, when he enjoys the cuddly comfort of the quilt and his female human. Of course he only gets to enjoy it until I have to go to the bathroom on those cold mornings because the bed gets made!

First thing in the morning when Joe opens the front door, Dobie eagerly makes his way outside while his male human gets the newspaper out of the box at the end of the driveway. He only stops running long enough to do the necessary ‘outside work.’ If the neighbors’ girls are in their yard ready to get in their car for school, he makes a beeline over to them, runs around them once as a greeting, then comes back to our yard. If he only has to do his first job, he wastes no time then heads to our front door to wait on his human. If he has to do the second job, he starts doing circle eights in the yard…making them smaller and smaller until he hits just the right spot to leave his special fertilizer. Inside the house again, he curls up on his blanket and pillow which is always on the couch…watches Joe finish breakfast in the kitchen…then waits until he is at the very same spot in the dining room before jumping off the couch and to our bedroom (where he knows the male human will pick him up and put him in the bed with the female human).

At night, he has another routine. At 11:00, whether we are ready for bed or not, he expects a quick run outside. He will either sit at the front door and stare at us until we ‘feel’ it, or he will start jumping around on our shoulders and chests – back and forth – wanting one of us to finally say those four magic words: “Want to go out?” When he is back in the house he usually goes straight to his crate, waits for us to hand him a treat and close his door.

At first it really bugged my hubby that a dog had him “…figured out.” Now Joe takes pride in how smart our little guy is. But if I could get Dobie to talk to me, it’s a good bet that he’d tell me how proud it makes him to have us on a good schedule!


Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose…so make your life count!