1 Year and 40

There's really nothing more exciting right now than having my husband home. This week is a three day weekend, so I'm super excited. It helps a little bit with the loneliness.

The past few days have been hard and I think I'm facing a month full of them.

Nothing awful is happening. Life is about as good as it gets here. But we've started into our 12th month here and my last month in my 30s. Two things that would have been much easier if they didn't fall at exactly the same time.

The sad part of coming up on a year of living here is looking back at the year. I'm so excited to be moving past this point in life.

I can't honestly say which is worse, saying goodbye to your friends or spending a year missing them. I spent the entire month of April last year saying goodbye to all of my friends. We played bunco, had parties, spent hours at lunches or dinners.

When someone says they are moving away, I know what sometimes happens. Everyone wants to spend time with them before they leave, but life gets so busy and those things don't happen. Life got busy for me, but I didn't let that happen. I spent time with every person who asked and left with no regrets. The saddest part of it all is that it's now been a year since I've seen a lot of these people.

Days before we left, our friends threw us a going away party and birthday party. It was wonderful!

There's nothing fun about moving within days of your birthday. My 39th kind of passed and has been a blur.

I'm not bothered by turning 40. I know it'll sound vain, but I don't feel old and I don't think I look 40. So, 40 isn't bothering me. But missing my friends, being alone here, that's bothering me.

A lot of my friends are early 40s or in their 30s. We have celebrated several 40th birthdays and were supposed to celebrate a few this year, including mine. It'll be hard to see the pictures of those celebrations, knowing I am not part of them in any way at all.

Here's the worst part of my upcoming birthday. I never liked my birthdays. Hated them. Always wished I'd never been born. Then, a very special woman changed that for me. Seven years ago, she taught me why it's such a special day. Each year, we celebrated in a special way. She didn't celebrate with me, she celebrated me. It changed me, changed my view of God and made me not hate the day I was born like my parents had.

Sure, I'm disappointed that there won't be a party with friends. I'm probably more disappointed that I won't have my special time celebrating with my friend.

It's a Sunday. We will go to church, but maybe we can start a new tradition. It won't be the same.

Pink Blanket

Lately, I've had a tough time sleeping. That gives me an opportunity to watch hours of late night news. In the late night news, more time is spent covering the latest news stories. The past few nights, it has been the latest plane crash.

While every incident is incredibly sad, I am usually glued to the details of each crash. In fact, I get wrapped up in the details and forget about the people. 

This latest crash is unraveling like a soap opera. The main pilot gets locked out of the cockpit and the co pilot crashes the plane into the Alps. Someone had a mental issue! 

The past few years have given us some of the most fascinating crashes for those who get caught up in the details. A plane is landed on the Hudson River and nobody dies. Another plan crashes into a river in Taiwan and there are survivors. Another goes missing over an ocean a year ago and to date not one piece of wreckage has been found. Leaving room for speculation that the plane was hijacked and was landed somewhere. There have been others. Suicidal pilots or catastrophic failures. We've seen a hodge podge of air catastrophes. 

Tonight as I watched the coverage, I saw what appeared to be a small pink blanket. It struck me that it likely belonged to a little girl. Amongst the wreckage, you could easily make out clothing and suitcases. That humanizes it in an instant. 

I've never lost anyone in a plane crash, thank God. However, I once met a woman who later died in a plane crash. 

The woman was the sister of a former co-worker. 

I remember the day she got the call at work. Her sister, niece and the sisters boyfriend had left South Dakota for Nebraska in a small plane. The plane had lost contact and they were unsure where they were. Because small planes do not have to file flight plans, they were missing for several days before anyone knew. Once they knew, there was still a hope they'd made a last minute change and were enjoying a vacation somewhere. 

It was the beginning of winter and the beginning of the snowy season. By the time anyone began to search, several feet of snow had fallen in the area they had possibly gone down. Everyone search anyway. The general search area was confirmed by several farmers who reported hearing a plane with engine trouble. 

Toward spring, several months later, the snow finally began to melt. Once the snow was gone, a farmer came upon the wreckage site. Searchers had been on top of it more times than they could count. 

My co-worker headed north and we received pictures. It was a horrific sight. Something that has stuck with me. 

The engine was about three feet into the ground from impact. The plane was in small pieces, with some recognizable. There were clothes and specifically a red sweater. Not far from the sweater was a hand. Yes, amongst the debri and clothes were body parts. Very few body parts were retrieved from the scene and the caskets at the funeral were nearly empty. 

My goodness, that certainly humanizes the accident. It was one of the saddest funerals I've ever attended. The preteen surviving son/brother who'd not made the trip was devastated. At the cemetery, he laid himself across the caskets and held on as long as they let him. 

For all I've been through in life, I've never had to experience something like this any closer than with my co-worker. I have lost cousins and friends to suicide and car accidents. Those were similar, but not quite the same. 

I've thought about that experience many times over the past 15 years. I often think about it when I'm forgetting the true human loss in a tragedy. As much as I try to understand itt never makes sense, but we always have to understand that nothing happens outside of God's will. 

It's not always just a story. There's usually real people involved. 

Walk by Faith

Jeremy Camp's song Walk by Faith came on the radio during my drive home today. It's a cold, rainy day. It's also a season of remembering life a year ago.

One year ago today (Thursday), we were here in Ohio. We had spent a good deal of the week looking at houses. Ours in KC had a contract and my husband was expected to be moved and start work here by the first week of May.

The house we found was the last one we looked at and probably the last possible one for sale in the county. It had been on the market for one day when we first looked. It was a bit cluttered, but had everything we wanted.

We (really me) wanted a large kitchen, separate dining room, large bedroom, fenced yard and an outbuilding or basement. It was one of three houses that had everything. It was the only one without a basement. It was also the one we both easily agreed on. Our other two houses were about the same in size, but in two completely different places. One was in town and the other was at the lake.

Realistically, the house was priced below what it should have appraised at. We'd later find out different because the previous owners trashed the house after they had the contract. I've covered all that before. We got a mess!

Anyway....

We had made it through the inspection process on our KC house and were as comfortable as we could be at the time. So, we made an offer on this house and it was accepted. About an hour before we met with our agent here, we got word that the buyer on our KC house was having second thoughts and may ask for an amendment on the contract. Our agents assured us everything would be fine and we should move forward with the contract here.

The next day, we heard from the agent here that our offer was accepted. An hour later, we heard from the KC agent that we'd lost the contract on our home there.

The buyer had decided he wanted $10,000 off the price of the house. Without consulting us first, one of our agents said absolutely not and refused to negotiate. In addition, our agent acted completely inappropriately on our behalf, cussing out the buyer and his agents.

I was angry, frustrated and scared. The financial complications didn't scare me as much as the idea of being stuck 600 miles away from husband come May. I was also determined. I remember saying to my husband over and over that we had to continue walking by faith. We had to believe that God had a plan and this was all part of it.

There were times in the days following that I fell to my knees, begging God to strengthen my faith in Him. I didn't need to control this and didn't need to know how it was all to happen. I listened to that song and many others over and over. I'd sing them in the shower and blast them in the car during the hours we waited on potential buyers to walk through the house.

It didn't take long. We had another contract on the house within 5 days. That ended up being another mess after our move. That contract fell apart because of a failed contingency. We fired agents, hired a new agent. Our new agent took over in early August and we closed on the house on September 8.

Those six months were hard, frustrating and long. They took us up to the brink of financial ruin. We spent a lot of time wrapped up in the emotions. In that time, I was incredibly sick. We prayed, a lot. We doubted our faith. We questioned what we had done wrong.

I'm so thankful for this blog and social media. They give me a picture of what things were really like. We lived in the daily emotion, but we were walking by faith. Our faith was growing. Each hurdle made us lean more and more on the sufficiency of God and not our own.

I hope that moving forward, I can remember that in everything, I must continue to walk by faith even when I cannot see.

They Risk it All

If you are in the Cincinnati area, you've probably heard about the loss of a fire fighter in the line of duty. For good reason, it has saturated our news here. He lost his life after checking an apartment building for more people.

When I see news stories like this, I am reminded of the many people I know who risk their lives for others.

We have friends who are police officers, fire fighters and EMTs. We have friends who've been to Iraq, Afghanastan and many other places to maintain our freedom and fight for freedom for others. I have one cousin currently serving in the army and one who is a marine. One has seen combat, one will soon.

While we cannot fathom putting ourselves in the danger they do, most of them do so without thought of their own personal risk. Some do so because they thrive on adrenaline and others do it because they have been called to their profession.

They go into places when others are running out. They search and rescue or retrieve. I am compassionate for people, but I'm not sure I have what it takes to run into a burning building or treat an accident victim or face off against an insurgent or raid a drug house.

I admire these people immensely. It breaks my heart when they don't make it home after a shift. It reminds me to pray for those I know doing the same.

It also makes me think of my brothers. I haven't always agreed with their decisions or how they've lived their lives. However, their decisions to be first responders has always made me proud and filled me with fear.

The older of my brothers is probably no longer serving in this capacity. I'm just not sure. His heart was in water rescue. He spent hours and hours training, first working for a private water rescue organization. He later helped form a county supported water rescue team. You might not think that there is much need for water rescue in the midwest, but there is.

Flooding can be a huge issue. I know many times, he had to rescue stubborn farmers by way of jet ski through fields. The area usually has several fishing/swimming deaths each year. On rivers and lakes, there are often rescue and recovery needs.

Because I haven't had much contact with him since early 2006, I don't know many of his experiences. I do know he was asked to work recovery after hurricane Katrina. I'm not sure if he went or not. I never worried much about his safety, but was always proud that he chose to help people.

My youngest brother is a volunteer fire fighter and has been for many years. After living in a big city and small towns, I can say there are a lot of difference between city fire departments and volunteer fire departments. Volunteers in small communities go to everything. They are the first responders. Accidents. Fires. They even worked a herd of wandering cows here.

I know my brother has worked a lot of fires and accidents in his small town. When the fire department is dispatched, a loud siren is sounded and the firemen available race to the station. Everyone in town knows and respectfully stays put for the 5-10 minutes it takes to get everyone to the station. It is a town of 2,000 people. No matter what he is called to, he knows the people involved.

Although he never talks about it, I know some of what he has responded to has affected him deeply. Most notably is the overturned truck in the creek where my brother was first rescuer for a deceased young man. Before going in, he had no idea it was his brother-in-law.

Again, I'm incredibly proud of him. I may not agree with so much he does and I may not have a relationship with him. But I love him and his heart to help people.

Each time I hear a story about a service person or first responder who has died during service, my heart drops to my stomach. I know it could easily be one of the many people I love. I feel badly for the families who have lost a loved one, but find myself being thankful it wasn't my loved one this time.

Anonymous Haters

I am certainly glad that I have matured and can usually (eventually) let things go. I'm not saying I do this perfectly, but I can usually work my way through issues and let them go. Obviously, the bigger the issue, the longer it takes.

It has taken me a long time to let go of a lot of my childhood hurts and it's still a process of doing that. I guess what I am really talking about are relational issues.

Last week, I got a private email from a anonymous source. It wasn't very nice at all. It wasn't so anonymous since I could reasonably deduct who it was from by what was said. Honestly, I won't go into what was said. However, it is safe to call what I received a form of cyber bullying. Frankly, it was nasty and hateful and even threatening.

Like I have said in the past, unless someone says something to me, I have no clue who reads my blog. My assumption is and always has been that I write for myself and have nothing that anyone would care to read. My blog has 100s of readers each day and many who read multiple pages. The website allows me to see those statistics, as well as some from location and type of browser. They are very general demographics/statistics with no specific information of who the readers are. Don't worry, your personal information is safe on this side of things. I have no clue who you are.

That being said, my blog is public. I don't purposely share it unless I trust the person and don't really want it widely shared amongst people I know. People I know, complete strangers and even people who don't like me at all have access to my blog.

Obviously, I do have some followers who are haters or I wouldn't have received a hateful email. This isn't my first and I'm sure won't be my last.

Because of what was said in the email, I was able to identify the sender. Here is what was obvious. Some people do not let things go.

I'll admit, there are people out there who don't like me and even hate me. (I'm not sure why, but some of them even read this blog.) I have done things that people haven't forgotten and obviously haven't forgiven. I haven't killed anyone or slept with anyone's husband or stolen anything from anyone. But I know I've done things to people I shouldn't. I have also apologized for many of them.

I also know there are people out there who blame me for things they shouldn't or have false grievances against me. I hate to point fingers, but.... These are the people who were once friends and something came between us. The relationship wasn't good and had to end. There was usually a lack of self-awareness or denial of sin that drove a wedge between us. I may not have handled myself the best way possible and further irritated the situation. I may have even had fault, but the fault was not all my own.

Here's the thing though. There is nobody, and I repeat...nobody, that I have not forgiven. Including myself. Whatever the issue, I have moved on. Not only that, but I have made a decision to remember and value what was good in those relationships as I move on. I remember what brought us together, the things I learned, the laughs we had and the ways the relationship grew and encouraged me. If you knew how toxic some of my relationships have been, you'd understand why it has been such a big deal to do that. Keep in mind that remembering the good and forgiving the past doesn't necessarily mean there is a reunion.

So, this is my indirect response to cyber bullying and maybe even a direct response to those who read my blog even though they loathe me. I don't hate you. I value you and the place you once had in my life. Every experience I've had has grown me and increased my faith. Whatever has happened, I have moved on. I have prayed my way through some of the deepest hurts and believe in full forgiveness. It has been freeing to do so. I pray you can do the same and let go of the anger or hurt you may still feel. If, after some self-reflection, you truly believe I owe you an apology, please feel free to come to me in private and not anonymously. I would love the opportunity to help free you from the chains of anger and hurt.

As for those of you reading that this doesn't apply to, maybe it does. Is there a hurt or injustice in your life that you just can't let go of? Do the chains of unforgiveness still bind you? I encourage you to pray through that. Go to the person if necessary. I believe you will find life is much easier when you can let go of unforgiveness. You may even find joy in choosing to remember more positive attributes of past relationships.

BIO & HIUS

History and science are two things that I find very interesting. However, only so when I choose the medium and I take it in for pleasure. So, you can probably imagine just how terrified I am to be taking history and biology this term.

They are awful!!!!

Thankfully, biology seems to be going well. I think that the text book tries way too hard to stay away from evolution. But at least it does include God as the creator and I suppose that is all that matters. I am also thankful that I am taking this class online and can forgo any and all disgusting dissection type lab activities.

The layout of this class is ridiculous. For instance, next week I have to read only one chapter. The chapters are about 100 pages long. Then, I have to watch 12 presentations. Each presentation is 40-60 minutes long. That is a good 13-15 hours of work. Then I have to take two quizzes. Neither quiz is specific to any block of information from that workload. It's all combined. Crazy unorganized! I don't know how anyone could expect an only student with work and family obligations to fit that into their schedule. And that is a light week! I think the expectations for this class maybe a bit too high.

As for history, oh my goodness. I will say that I am learning a ton of info. We are forced to read this ignorant study guide written by Wilfred McClay. It is the single worst study guide ever written. He uses big words to talk circles around history without giving any valuable information. He is cynical and I think maybe a giant douche! I have a special place I'd like to put his study guide.

As for the rest of the content of the class, I couldn't be more excited. Don't get me wrong, it's hard. The tests are full of questions about things that must be inferred from the text and cannot be directly found in it.

One of the only things McClay said that I found interesting, or rather funny, was that everything we learned in high school history was wrong. He says history is taught by coaches who have to teach to coach and they generally pass along the same wrong information we learned in elementary school.

Honestly, I would agree after reading in my text book for the past two weeks.

Columbus wasn't the first explorer to reach America. In fact, Columbus never made it here at all.
Indigenous people weren't all indians, some were hunters who came here during the ice age.
The Mayflower didn't haul the first colonist here and it landed in Cape Cod.
Slaves weren't necessarily brought here directly from Africa. Many were taken to the Bahamas and Jamaica first to be seasoned.

There are so many more examples of things that were taught to me wrong. Small town education!

It has been interesting to read through religious turmoil and growth here and in Europe. What is now America has not always offered religious freedom.

Probably the biggest eye opener was about slaves. I am amazed by the information I've learned about slaves.

Through movies, I obviously have a good idea of how slaves were treated. But movies don't adequately portray the volume or importance of slaves.

Slave trade wasn't a new thing. Other countries were trading slaves long before and long after America. There were just over 500,000 slaves transported to America throughout history. Some countries brought in millions. Places like the Caribbean brought in millions in any given 60 year period. What is even more amazing is that historians have all of this information on online.

One of my assignments this week was to write 200 words on how this week's text altered my view of slavery in America.

I'll paraphrase what I wrote a bit.

I know as a young, white American woman, I should be appalled by slavery. While I am taken back by the abhorrent ways slaves were treated, I must respect their place in American history as well as their owners.

After reading the text, something became very clear to me. It was commerce/trading of goods that drove the colonies financial independence. Without being self-sufficient and profitable, the colonies would have taken even longer to become organized and may well have failed. Formal organization of the colonies was a foundation for the development of the United States.

There was far more work to do than colonists to do it. The colonists used the resources available to them at the time, which included indentured servants and slaves. The more workers they had, the faster they were able to become profitable.

As an American, I have to respect the process of how this country started. I don't have to like the way it all happened, but I have to respect that the slaves contributed greatly to the foundation of America.

I know, this really isn't what most people would say about slavery. It isn't something I can change, but it is something I can look at as a pivotal point in building America.

Not included in my writing assignment, but something I have discussed with my husband is how I fail to see how slavery still alters race relations today. It shouldn't. Black, white, brown....it really was a collaborative effort to build this country. I'm not sure my history book is going to explain that volatile social issue to me.

Since I've been sick and am still playing catch up, I better get busy. More science today.

Light Thinking for Monday Morning

Since last summer, my husband has had one cold after another. It's that whole thing where you are sickest the first year of living or working somewhere new. It's a thing! I thought I had escaped all of the colds and flu for the most part. I mean it's a fair assumption since I've had much bigger issues to deal with, right?

So, last Thursday, I spent all day curled up in five blankets on the bed. I didn't have many more symptoms than being cold and a sore throat, but I was exhausted. Then Friday was a bit better, but stuffier nose. Then Saturday, I felt great! Sunday was kind of the same. I went to church, out for lunch, finished my history homework. 

Then I hit the wall. I got tired again and every inch of my head was either stuffy or ached. I think today, Monday, is probably the worst. My head feels heavy. My ears are clogged. My nose is runny. My eyes feel like they are going to pop out of my head. Yes, I do believe I am in full blown cold mode. 

Why is it that when you have a cold, it feels like it's never going to go away? Colds usually last 7-14 days, with the worst being 5-7 days. But we always feel like we have a cold forever. Not only that, but every cold we have is the worst we've ever had. How funny is that? 

I know some are worse than others. This one isn't terrible. My ear pressure is probably worse than normal and so is my exhaustion level. However, I can attribute my increased exhaustion to my body working hard to fend off one virus after another. I am just now to the end of the Bells Palsy. With my ears, I know the BP is also a culprit for that as well. My BP left me with an inflamed eustachian tube. But this certainly isn't the worst I've ever had.

I think as we get older, we become less tolerant of things that get us down. That brings me to point of what is on my mind today. 

The older we get, the more things change for us in all facets of our lives. I saw that in my husband this weekend. 

As I've said before, my husband looks at things much differently than me. Because he does, he doesn't have the same anxieties that I do. He doesn't typically overthink things. He also has a strong faith that God is in control of his mortality.

I think it is probably because he is approaching 50, that some of this is getting tested in him. Last week, he lost a classmate. Not one he was particularly close to. In fact, he saw him in September and didn't really know who he was. However, when someone you grew up with and is only a few days older than you dies, it shakes some of what you thought to be solid within you.

This passing has made him consider his own mortality. Something we all know will come, but have no clue when. I know it made him consider his legacy. It touched on his deepest fears, that his life has meant nothing and that he has achieved nothing.

I think we can let satan warp our thoughts and make us forget exactly what value our life does have. 

My husband would never tell you this, but he has had a career full of recognition and high praise. He does his job well and with a strong set of ethics. Since he has spent most of his career in aerospace. Ethics are vital when you work in a field where millions of lives depend on you doing the right thing. 

I can't tell you the number of certificates, gift cards, letters, etc., that he has brought home since we have been married. All for a job well done.

He is also an amazing husband. If I had to list the number of things he has had to forgive me for just so we can stay married, you'd think he was a saint. Seriously, he is a much better person than I could ever be. But he is loyal and dedicated and loves when people don't deserve it.

He is loved by his family. With his mom's illness, there are a lot of issues within his family. But they all love him and they know he loves them. His dad has a difficult time communicating how he feels directly to his children. But, he would tell you that his first born son makes him proud. He would tell you that he sees the most of himself in my husband. 

I think there are so many things in life that challenge the reality we know by tapping into our emotions. If it's a cold or the death of a classmate, I think we have to think realistically at what we know to be true and the truth that God gives us. Is our thinking swayed by emotion or truth? Are we aligning our thoughts with satan or God? 

Just a little light thinking for a Monday morning. 

All About the Dogs

Since I've been sick, I hadn't made much of a plan for today. But that's usually how the day ends up going in a direction you hadn't planned. 

We've been considering a fourth dog for quite some time. We have lots of space and availability. We also have aging dogs and one that has several health issues. So, we've been searching sale sites and Craigslist for a while. We'd found lots of dogs 2 years and over. 

Last night, on a whim, I checked on a lady who had three Morkie Poos. It just so happened that we were out and about when she was available to show them to us today. Oh my goodness! I'd have taken all three. They were so cute. All boys, one black and white, another black and brown and one apricot. 

We finally decided on the apricot one and will get him in a few weeks. We are super excited, but know the potty training will be stressful. Hopefully with three other dogs, it will go smoothly. The last time we potty trained was 8 years ago. 

After we got home, it was time for spring haircuts for the rest of the bunch. Thankfully it was nice out and we could shave them in the garage. They are usually good and we can groom all three in about two hours. 

While I was grooming the smallest, I noticed her scars. She has a huge, deep scar that runs all around her torso and is especially deep on the sides. She came to us that way. In fact, the cut was still scabbed when we got her. The wounds were so deep that it took nearly two years for it to be completely healed. 

We don't know what happened. She was a rescue. She'd had three litters of pups and was severely abused. She was/is timid with men and strangers. It's taken her three years to occasionally go to my husband when he calls for her. 

She knows though and I think she remembers. She does something funny when I touch or am shaving her scarred sides. Her little body gets tense and she looks at me with the saddest eyes and immediately wants me to hold her. 

I can't help but be compassionate with this little dog. In the middle of grooming her, I had to stop, snuggle her and consider how we are alike. 

We both have some deep scars. They get covered up and even forgotten about at times. But they are tender. When they get uncovered or touched, we know. It takes us back to a time when there was no safety. When that happens, we desperately hope the person who has seen our exposed scars will handle us with gentleness and loving care. We hope we can trust them and they won't hurt us more. My dog doesn't have to talk for me to know. I know because that's exactly how I am. 

She's definitely my dog. I think there is a loyalty and understanding between us that most people wouldn't understand. 

I finally finished grooming her and all her siblings. We might be crazy for adding one more to the mix. 

I've never regretted having dogs. They definitely make life fuller. I don't intentionally try to humanize them, but they do seem to fill a human-like void in our lives. 

We are looking forward to when we can bring our new boy home. It'll be exciting. 

A Saturday with no plans and not feeling well certainly led to a full, interesting day. 

News There and Here

Things are so different here. We are at least an hour from Cincinnati, Dayton and Columbus. We sit near the corners of Indiana, Kentucky and obviously Ohio. Our news comes from Cincinnati, which covers all part of all three states. Even though we are a ways away, the news reported is incredibly different than what we saw in KC.

There weren't a lot of drug stories in the KC news. It isn't that there aren't drugs in KC, there are. For a while when we first moved to KC, there was a lot of reporting on meth houses exploding. Even that had become minimal the past few years. Usually the only drug stories on the news were that of huge drug busts or stings and again, were minimal.

Here, there are stories almost daily about drugs and primarily heroine. Heroine is an epidemic here, both in the city and rural areas. It is so bad that emergency workers carry drugs to counteract overdoses. I'm not kidding, it's crazy. The latest news story was of two young people who died of overdose and how they are retraining EMS workers to use the overdose drugs. They want enough of the drug administered to save them, but not make them conscious. Evidently when they become conscious, they refuse medical treatment and avoid intervention or charges. The fact that I know so much about this epidemic tells you how much it is in the news.

In the KC news, you might see a violent or deadly accident in the news a couple times a month. Here, there at least a few reported per week. It seems to be an even mix of interstate and state highway roads. The interstate crashes seem to be very traumatic with cars catching fire or semis being involved. State highway crashes also violent, but appear to be cross-over or running stop signs. By the way, we've seen a problem with both. Don't even get me started on careless driving here. It is rare for me to drive the five miles into town without seeing a car cross over the center line.

Probably the biggest difference is the individual violence we see reported. In KC, we saw a lot of reports about gun violence. In the past five years, there have been record numbers of gunshot fatalities and very specifically young black males. Between KCK and KCMO, that is their epidemic. I don't know what the rate is of solving those crimes, but reports are low. Our suburb of KC definitely wasn't like that. I think in 16 years, there were only a handful of murders and they were usually domestic.

We lived here for a good two months before we heard of gun violence on the news. Still, it's not a super common thing on the news here. Keep in mind, I only have year to go on and nothing to compare it to. The violence and crime stories around here seem to much different.

Last spring and summer, pit bull attacks saturated the news. Between all three of the big cities around us, there were at least a dozen deaths from attacks and most were children. One of them survived, without a tongue, ear and completely disfigured.

There is a lot of violence reported against children around here. We've seen probably a dozen or more stories of children/babies being killed by adults. The past two weeks have been especially tough. The first one was a baby in Indiana who's grandmother decapitated her with an electric saw. Not as much coverage on this cause it wasn't technically local. However, this week was local. A mother, who had lost custody of her 3 month old, stabbed and decapitated her daughter.

These stories resonate with me in a special kind of way. My first thought always when I hear these stories is "I would have taken them." Gosh. If people can't stand to be around their children, there are sources to give them away or get help. I'm positive that there are thousands of people who have the same response when they see these stories.

It isn't all bad though. In my time in KC, I never really saw the city as a whole rally around anyone. Unless it was a professional athlete, there wasn't a lot of individualism during crisis. The city as a whole did an excellent job of supporting charities, but the smaller communities were the only ones we ever saw rally around those in need.

We've seen two examples of how different this place is. The city and surrounding areas have rallied around two young people with cancer. They have been on every news station and even national programs. Both are young girls. One is a 19 year-old dying of brain cancer. Once receiving her terminal diagnosis, she started a foundation and has raised over $1 million. The other is the very young daughter of a football player here. Her dad and the Bengals have raised millions for the local children's hospital. Both are sweet and sad stories, that the community has made their own. I'm amazed at the love I've seen for these two girls. On the news this week, we saw one in her last days or weeks and the other who appears to be in remission. I've never seen this kind of community support for individuals.

I'm sure there are equal amounts of bizarre news reported in both places and news that is unique to the area. Oddly enough, the formats for stations here and there are the same with the same music and intros.

It's definitely different living in a place not really newsworthy or covered. When we lived in KC, our suburb was always in the news because half the news crew lived there. I've not seen our little town mentioned on the news once since we've lived here, not even for weather. It's SO different here!

My Husband

While I mention him a lot, I never really go into much detail about my husband. He's still here and better than ever.

As we come up on the year anniversary of our move, I can't help but reflect on all the ways he has changed this past year.

It has been a rough year for him as well. 

When we were told in January that a move was imminent, he shut down emotionally and physically. There was a ton of stuff to do and he couldn't process any of it. He continued to travel while the house had to be worked on and barely had any energy when he was at home. What little energy he had was spent trying to find other employment to keep us closer to home.

After years of worrying and taking care of me during my mental breakdown, he didn't get much break before his worry and fears shifted to his mom and her illness. He was finally starting to assimilate what was happening in his family when we found out we would be moving. 

In addition to what was happening in his personal life, he had a very stressful work situation. In the 18 months prior to moving, we were forced to cancel a vacation and he traveled 1-2 weeks per month. His job title and responsibilities had changed multiple times and he was incredibly unhappy. He had a few friends at work, but for the most part he hated it. 

Even though it was physically and emotionally hard for me, I completely understand why this move was the last straw for him. I got why he was shut down and tried to have as much grace with him as possible. 

Before we moved, he had a couple doctors trying to manage anti-depression medications. The side effects of them were terrible. He had a lot of memory loss and could not function normally. The drugs altered who he was and how he handled everything. The worst part was that they weren't helping. No combination really worked. I think at one time, he was on three anti-depression drugs and a sleeping med. 

When we got here and he needed his first refill, he got into a new doctor. The first thing she did was get him off the multiple drugs. His constant fogginess cleared up pretty quickly. Over the past six months, his mood has stabilized and he doesn't have a long list of side effects. His meds have changed and the list is much shorter. 

He's had a few other problems pop up since we moved. The poor guy just can't seem to get a break. During our move, he started having pain in one of his thumbs. He tried to tolerate it, but complained until he couldn't stand it. An X-ray showed he had something called trigger thumb. The doctor injected steroids into his thumb and he's been fine since. 

After our long drive to KC and back in September, he returned with a pain in his knee that wouldn't go away. He blamed the cramped fit in the car. We traded the car off and it was still a problem. Again, he headed back for X-rays. While we were on vacation in October, the doctor called to let him know that he had arthritis in his knee and the bones in his knee were now rubbing together. He was able to get another steroid injection and medication, which have allowed him to live without excruciating pain. 

He's obviously been affected by what has happened with/to me. While he didn't talk about it a lot, he was saddened by the loss of two babies. I know last summer, he felt helpless when I was so sick. He is usually the one to combat my anxiety with medical stuff and tell me I'm fine. When we stood in the garden and told him I didn't want to be buried here and I wanted him to take me back to KC to die, I saw the fear in his eyes. Neither of us knew what was happening or just how close to our fears we really were. 

The guy has been through a lot. I don't want anyone to think it has been all bad. There are some really good things that have come in the past year.

Prior to our move, he worked three jobs. He had a graphic arts business that came to a close at the end of 2013. He was sad, but now see it as God preparing him. He was also cleaning an office in the evenings and on weekends. He used it as a time to unwind from his daily stress, but it kept him away from home an additional hour per night. He quit that in March last year. 

Now, he has only one job. For the first time in seven years, he is working only one job. That means he has a lot more time at home. He also has a lot more time to find out who he is again and what he enjoys. That's been a, at times, frustrating venture but a much needed one. With the long, cold winter, he has discovered that he loves watching youtube videos and has some tv shows he won't miss.

In late fall, he got his bike fixed so it would be ready for spring. He has been getting back into shooting and even purchased a new gun. The guy never buys himself anything. I'm sure there will be other things. After our move, he was so very cautious because we still had a financial mess. This spring will be the first time he can really tap into what interests him and I hope he does.

When he worked in NKC, he spent nearly two hours commuting each day. When we moved, his commute was reduced to 5-7 minutes. That has been a huge, positive change for both of us. Another change was his job and overall satisfaction.

I won't say he loves his job or the situation. However, I will say that his job is a lot different here. He comes home in a better mood and enjoys the people he works with. The company is the same, but the atmosphere is completely different here than NKC. It is similar in size, but has a much stronger family feel to it.

He has developed several friendships. I am so happy. I know we both feared we would lose all our friends back home and not make any here. Neither of those things happened for him. He has friends from back home who text and call him all the time, including one who calls weekly. He has made friends here too. My introverted husband has made friends far more easily than I have. Seriously, I think our socialization has completely flip flopped here. I get maybe one text per week and most of my calls are solicitors. He gets texts and calls all evening. I am so, so happy for him. 

Probably the best part of the last year, really the last six months, is that I have gotten my husband back. Without the work, stress, med problems, I finally have him in his purest form. I have seen his faith and love for me grow. We are closer than we have ever been. 

It may have been a tough road, but I'm so glad we had each other through it all. I never know what lies ahead, but I'm always certain that with each other we will face down every obstacle. I am so thankful for this man and can't hardly believe he has been in my life for 21 years. 

These Two Kids...

There usually not pictures included in my posts, but today is a bit different. 

A year ago, I had my niece and nephew over spring break. My Timehop keeps reminding each day of all that we did. We had an awesome time. Partly because they knew it would be the last time we would see each other for a while. It was partly because of the excitement. Their Aunt Jo was moving and they were excited to come visit. 

I have to admit, even I was excited at the time. We were about to embark on a new journey that included house hunting and exploring a new area. I had placed my faith in God that He would sustain me through it all, even the hardest parts like being so far away from these two kids.

When I had to cut ties with my family, I spent four years without any contact with my brother or his family. I had broken the cardinal rule of a severely dysfunctional family. I had left. I know from mutual contacts, they were angry and had disowned me. 

These two kids though....they drew me back the second I was healthy enough to tolerate the incidental contact with other family members. For the first half of their lives, I was a fixture for them. My nephew told everyone at his Kindergarten graduation that he was going to get married and move to KC with his Aunt "Doe" (he had a bit of a speech problem when he was younger) when he grew up. 

Each time we made the two hour trip back to our home towns, I had the kids with me. They stayed all night with us sometimes Friday and Saturday nights. We did that from the time they were babies until August 2007. Our lives were meshed with each other and I loved it. I loved being an aunt. 

I do have another niece and nephew with my other brother, but we were never close. 

In the years I had no contact with my niece and nephew, my heart broke. They were the one thing that  I always let threaten my healing. Sometimes it seemed like Jesus wasn't enough to justify the trade off. I know now that wasn't true and I just needed time. But, those are four years I can never get back.

The time I spent with them last year was so special to me. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, could have prepared me at the time for what I would face from then to now. 

I know I should be thankful for the nearly four years I had back with them after a four year absence. I am thankful. I am also profoundly saddened by where things stand now. 

Honestly, I am angry. I have said it before, but I blame my parents. I know ultimately that the actions of my brother are what drove us all apart this time. However, his actions were a direct result of the dysfunction he came from. I'm not excusing him. Behavior makes sense when you understand where it came from. 

While I understand that time and space is definitely needed for me to maintain my own health, it is still painful. It is an open-ended hurt. Like the first time, there is time frame. I can't say it will all magically be better in one or two years. 

The kids are 14 and 15. They will be graduating in a few years. Even then, they will still be a part of a dysfunctional family. So, I can only hope and pray that there will be an opportunity to reconnect then. 

I have definitely been through years without them. This time is different though. I'm not making a decision to have something besides them. This time, it is my brother's decision that there not be contact. It makes me sad because he's cut off contact with someone who loves them dearly. 

I think this is one of those things that stays active enough in day to day thinking to remind me of my broken heart. Sometimes a broken heart has to stay broken until time mends it back together.

Mental Health BooBoo

There's no secret that in my time here in Ohio, I have sought counseling for a couple issues and most notably grief.

Let me start by saying that I have no shame in seeking mental healthcare. Honestly, I think the world would be better adjusted if more people took care of their mental health. Mental healthcare comes with such a stigma. If you seek mental healthcare, you must be crazy. Right?

Wrong!

My mental health is important to me. I also have to acknowledge my past. I had an extremely traumatic life prior to 2007. I have survived a level of torture and abuse that can only be envisioned as a horror movie. I absolutely have to consider that I didn't walk away from that unscathed and am still in a period of healing and restoration.

While a lot of healing came in moving away from my family and places I'd been traumatized, I am not naive enough to think I am fully healed. I constantly deal with anxiety and PTSD. Those things won't just go away and haven't. I know that the amount of time I spend alone heightens my loneliness and along with that comes increased anxiety and depression.

When I look at the trauma of the move, loss and changes of the past year, I also must consider that counseling has and will continue to be vital to fight the depression that even the most sane person would be prone to feel. The past year would have taken down a normal person. Lost two babies. Nearly died. Turned brother in for abuse. Moved away from friends and support system. Yea that short list is a lot.

I definitely need someone to talk with once in a while. I need someone who can walk me through times of high anxiety.

So, I got on the waiting list for the local mental health center way back in the fall. They told me it'd be spring before I got an appointment. They weren't far off. I got an appointment for today.

I went in for a paperwork appointment and to set up a first appointment. After getting there, we were informed that the one counselor who took our insurance had quit. Ok. So this isn't new to me. I've scheduled with two primary care doctors since we've been here only to find out the week of the appointment that they had or were quitting. Plan B? Nope.

They literally have no way to see me with my insurance. At over $100 per visit with insurance that would cover it, there's no way I'm paying out of pocket. It could be 6 to 12 months before they get a new provider.

We have other options. I could drive an hour or more to be seen. That's not much of an option for me. I've not driven more than 20 minutes away and never to any of the cities. After an appointment where I get highly emotional, I cannot safely drive home. I can't expect my husband to take off to take me every time. So, I'm at the mercy of the local providers at this time.

I'm completely split on how I feel about this.

I'm ok with not digging into the past. It's popped up a more than a few times this past year and I've just wanted it to go away. It's not easy telling someone face to face what I've been through. I've shared tiny bits of it with a few people here, but I've not had to divulge huge amounts of info since moving. I think I've only shared my testimony with two people. It doesn't scare me to do that, but counseling is more than that. It digs deeper than words on a page with a complete stranger.

I'm not overly thrilled with getting to know someone new in this realm. It's just complicated. In addition, I'm against secular counseling. The last time I tried that, the counselor encouraged us to divorce.

On the other hand, I know I'm fighting a losing battle with depression. I'm starting to fit the description of every depression led commercial. My contact with people is minimal. I don't have activities I enjoy. I don't laugh. I'm tired and my body aches all the time. My anxiety is through the roof and my OCD tendencies have picked up. I know there's a need. I know I need someone to logically talk through life with me once in a while, especially while I struggle with relationships here.

This one is out of my control. I can't do anything to change it. It's going to be 6-12 months. By then I should have my own counseling degree and either be further into this journey of healing or a hot mess. Only God knows.

Sentimental Message

I'm not a sentimental person. Receiving gifts is my primary love language. So I'm not talking about gifts or even cards I have received. I keep all those. I even put cards on my board in the craft room. When I say I'm not sentimental, I mean I don't keep trinkets or ticket stubs or miscellaneous items to remind me of special times.

The only sentimental thing I hang onto are roses. I have a glass container where I keep one rose or rose petals from each time my husband has given me roses in the past 20 years. That's it though. You won't find shadow boxes or smash books in my house.

I didn't realize until today (Monday), that I was hanging on to something else of sentimental value. For the past few months, my voicemail hasn't worked. No big deal since I'm usually available to answer my phone. I can't say I've really missed it.

While procrastinating a bit with biology today, I decided to call and get it fixed. Sure enough, my cell provider had inadvertently put a code on it that made it inaccessible. A short phone call got the problem fixed and I was able to get it working again.

The problem...my history of voicemails was wiped out. I probably had 30 messages I had saved. They all transferred from one iPhone to the next from my very first iPhone many years ago. Over seven years to be exact.

Over those seven years, I'd kept the messages that meant the most to me. All of the messages contained a similar sentiment...they all had sweetness directed toward me.

There were messages from my niece, that I listened to when I missed her dearly. Some were from friends back home long before the move offering encouragement. Some were even from friends who are no longer in my life that I kept to remind me of the best of times. Some made me laugh and some made me cry.

There were some from extremely close friends who were concerned during the darkest of times. I listened to those when I felt alone. They've been especially helpful since moving.

Then there were many from my husband. Some were a profession of love, others an apology. I held onto those in case something ever happened to him. I don't think I could go on if I could never hear his voice again and feel the true love of his words.

After I realized they were all gone, I sat, deflated. All those voicemails, all that sweetness was just gone. Unrecoverable. Never to be heard again.

I'm not going to lie, I was angry. In an instant, I lost seven years of beautiful memories and all I got from the CSR was that technology isn't reliable.

Evidently, I am sentimental when it comes to voices that mean so much to me. It's not something I can recreate.

I hate to say this, but I instantly thought that this too was just another thing to make the past year crappy. It made me ready for this year to come to a close and hope for better in the next.

Even though I hadn't listened to any of the messages for a while, I already miss them. To anybody else, they were just a bunch of stupid messages. They were so much more to me. They were a lifeline to people who care. I know it's silly to cry over that, but I lost something valuable to me.

I think it's scary to consider that I might not fill up my mailbox again and definitely won't anytime soon.

All or Nothing

One of the personality bents that abuse has left me with is an all or nothing way of thinking. It's a form of black and white thinking.

When it comes to just about anything, I am all in or I'm not. If I get involved in something, I submerge myself in it fully. If I dislike something, I set it aside and don't think anything about it. If I get to know someone, I'm fully engaged. I'm just not midway on anything. As my dad used to say, I do nothing half-assed. I either do it completely or I don't do it at all.

I know you can have this bent even if you didn't come from abuse. Abuse set that up for me. I had to choose what was really important to me. If it wasn't important, I had to set it aside and not think about it again. If it was important, I had to be ready to fight and not willing to let go.

My bible story book was a good example. It was just a book, but it was a special gift just for me that I felt especially connected to. It was important, so was all in. I dug it out of the trash, took beatings for it and sacrificed other things to keep it. Friends were a good example of the nothing side of this. Friends were important, but not enough. The price I had to pay to have friends was far too high, so I decided I didn't need any.

If this seems obscure, it's because you don't have these tendencies.

I have made a lot of progress in this over the past several years. It's part of the healing process. But, it's still my default. When I got hurt recently, it was my default. If I couldn't be all in, I didn't want any of it.

While talking with someone about recent events and my default of all or nothing, I was offered a challenge. Keep in mind, I had a wonderful counselor and friend who challenged me all the time on this and has brought me to where I am now. But this friend challenged me in a new way.

Thankfully, I trust this friend and take their criticism how it was intended. They quite frankly told me that all or nothing thinking is wrong, not biblical. Yea, I know! But this time, I got told to not be that way. What? Like I said, trusted friend who can say things to me in ways that from a less trusted person would have pissed me off.

They suggested reading through all four gospels. The challenge was to look at the character of Jesus. Was he all or nothing? I haven't done it yet. I know the answer, but obviously need to reminder.

I took my bible on vacation to do the reading. Funny story. I shoved my bible under the car seat. On one of our last days, my male dog drug it out and chewed up the corner. My OCD, default was to instantly start the search for a new bible. It was a bit of my all or nothing thinking. But, I love this bible. I have had  it a few years now. It has notes and verses highlighted all over. Far more than I could ever copy to another bible. The notes are from four pastors at three churches. Some of the highlighted verses are ones which have gotten me through times, recommended by loyal friends who've walked through the valleys with me.

I had to make a choice that wasn't all or nothing. I chose to keep the bible and adjust to the mangled corner. Not easy for me. However, it was a good opportunity to be reminded that not everything has to be all or nothing, not everything is black or white. There can be some in between, some gray areas, some areas where things aren't one extreme or another.

I appreciate the challenge and know I need it. I'm probably more appreciative of someone who cares enough to try to understand me and loving uses what they know to push me toward Jesus. I'm thankful God loves me so much that He is not content to leave me where I am and constantly leads me through this process of restoration and healing.

Only 3 1/2 to Go

There are only 14 months until I graduate. Eek!!!! I have 3 1/2 semesters crammed into that time.

That means, I have a whole lot of classes to complete to graduate in the time frame we have planned for. I, of course, know that many things can happen that could alter my time frame. Probably the one I worry about the most is me!

My first term is all finished. Much to my surprise and as a direct result of hard work, I finished my three classes with all As and a 4.0. I won't lie, that was an awesome way to start the program. I started out scared and failing. It was a huge confidence booster to finish the way I did. It was also validating.

The next two classes are completely different. They are US History and Biology. As a general rule, I enjoy both. The thing is that I enjoy both when taken in for pleasure. I can sit and watch the Science or History channel with my husband for hours and it's no big deal. It's completely different when I have to recall the information or use it in a writing assignment.

Even though I started well, I still have a fear of failure. Science and History are why I never earned a degree before now. I feared failure and it always led to me dropping the class. I'm not sure the fear is so strong this time, but I generally fear failing courses along the way. That fear is strong for me.

I also fear graduating with a huge debt. This college is expensive and we cannot afford to pay completely out of pocket. We probably could if I stretched the program out over three years. We both agree that stretching it out would probably lead to a lot of discouragement for me and possibly giving up along the way. But, I still fear debt when I have no plans of this degree leading to a paying job. I still feel called to help those who cannot afford to pay for counseling.

It's realistic for me to also consider the possibility of burn out. In the big scheme of life, 14 months is just a blip. However, that 14 months is cram packed full. In that time, I will have one week off in October and one off next March. My terms will all run back to back and even overlap. Only if I work ahead will I be able to create some time off.

There are also a couple health issues that threaten to sideline me. A trip to the doctor two weeks ago led me to consider again my reproductive options. Either way we go, I still have a couple surgeries and several invasive tests in my near future. In a perfect world, I'd like to delay all of it until after graduation. But this isn't a perfect world and not taking care of the issues I have will only make success with school even more difficult.

But for now, I'm proceeding knowing that while I have no clue what the next 14 months will look like...God does. Ultimately, my success lies more significantly in His hands than mine. With that, I shouldn't have a need to worry.

Vacation is Over

We made the rainy trek home yesterday. Between the rain, fog, and stops, our 5.5 hour drive took exactly 8 hours. It has been a long time since I've traveled through such thick fog. It is a bit anxiety provoking to be going through mountains and not be able to see the tail lights only a few car lengths ahead of you.

Another amazing sight was the flooding of the Ohio river. Since we haven't explored the Cincinnati or Kentucky areas much, I'm not familiar with the geography. However, we saw amusement parks, roads and buildings under water. I'm not unfamiliar with flooding, but this was awful. It was similar to what I saw traveling to Minnesota during my senior year of high school.

Our area has been saturated with many, many inches of snow and rain the past two weeks. While we didn't have to deal with flooding, the excessive precipitation did effect us. We returned home to a mess. As I have said before, at our previous house the sewer monster haunted every single vacation. We seem to have a similar streak here. In October, we returned home to a backed up septic system and had to spend an additional night in a hotel.

When we walked in the door, we were hit with an awful smell. It smelled like stagnant water. My husband hit the obvious things first. He hauled out a rug that soaked up all the water from our grimy vehicles and feet. It wasn't the problem. Then he ran a cleaning cycle on the washer. It wasn't the problem. When we went to bed, I still smelled it. A half day of burning candles and having windows open hadn't fixed the problem.

After church, I suggested my husband check under the house for standing water. We had seen the problem on inspection last year but hadn't had a problem since. Sure enough, the crawl space had a lot of standing water. And by a lot, I mean he has been pumping water out for over five hours and it hasn't hardly made a difference. Fun stuff!!!!

Our cabin had a hot tub that was incredibly inviting. However, the deck underneath looked extremely rotten. Not that rotten wood necessarily bothers me. But, a rotten deck that is held up only by four extremely long wooden poles on the side of a mountain....well that does bother me. So, I was looking forward to using our hot tub again when we got home.

About dark last night, my husband discovered our hot tub was not running. The excessive rain/snow had shorted out the heating element and ruined it. Unfortunately, there aren't many hot tub repairmen in this area and it's like pulling teeth to get any of them to return calls. Strike two for us!

I'm so thankful we had a restful week, so we had the energy to deal with the messes waiting for us at home.

This was truly one of the better vacations we have taken inside the US. It was enjoyable and relaxing. We probably got along better than we ever have on a vacation because there was no stress, exactly how a vacation should be.

Now, we are fully back to reality. Grocery shopping, dealing with messes, Sunday afternoon naps (well for me anyway).

Tomorrow, I start my second term of this semester with Biology and History. I have done some prep work and I am hoping a two class schedule is a little less taxing this next 8 weeks.

I'm already looking forward to our next mini-vacation next month and some time with friends from back home, friends from back home who have moved to Indiana and will be going on the mission field soon, and a friend that is very special to me. It will be great to see familiar faces.

We've Loved the Smokies

Today is our last full day here in Tennessee. It's going to be rainy, like most of the others. For maybe the first time on a vacation, I'm not really ready to go home. After 5-7 days, I'm usually ready to head for home.

The cabin is creepy and creaky. The bed is hard and the pillows hurt my neck. The dogs have no good places to be walked. I should be ready, but I'm not.

This vacation has been good for us. We are in a tourist trap, but haven't fallen prey. The touristy stuff just isn't for us. We don't enjoy high priced shows, except on occasion. In fact I've learned something about myself this trip. If it isn't sports related, I prefer nature made over man made.

We have taken full advantage of being in a mountainous area. We have taken several mountain drives. Windows down, soaking in the fresh air and enjoying the sounds and sights that go with it. There's something amazingly free about being on the side of a mountain with no cell service. It's like being unplugged enough to enjoy life the way we did before we were tied to technology.

Of course we had our day trip to North Carolina. It was still beautiful, even in the rain. But mostly, we've just explored.

We have done a little shopping. Ok, maybe a lot. And maybe it was all me. It's been several years since I walked through a mall of any kind and shopped at will. Honestly, shopping isn't my thing. I do most online and usually know exactly what I want before going into a store. Browsing through stores for the heck of it just isn't my thing. Now that I've done it, I'm probably good for another several years.

Besides our daily lounging and exploring, we've had some awesome food. As we talked last night, after a year of living with limited choices, even mediocre food has been amazing! We started with Corkys BBQ. We may end up there for lunch today. It was very worth it. On recommendation, we tried the Old Mill the next day. Oh my goodness! Corn fritters, biscuits and I had a plate of turkey and dressing that was more than I could eat.

Tuesday, in our exhaustion, we chose a buffet. We walked out praying we'd not get sick. Wednesday, we had a great, but expensive lunch. I had a turkey sandwich with bacon, avocado, sirracha mayo and grapefruit chutney....so good. When we got back, we headed to Margaritaville for lots of loud music and a burger and tacos with Caribbean flair. Our first time eating at this chain in the states and I have to say it is much better in other countries.

Yesterday, we tried a fresh mex place that left us both a little hungry. That was ok cause dinner was awesome. We tried Mellow Mushroom. So good! The best part was that they had vegan cheese for my half of the pizza. We finished the day with a couple melt in your mouth, hot now Krispy Kremes.

I can't forget, we've tried a couple of the dozens pancake houses. First was Smoky Mountain Pancake House. Eww! It was by far the worst meal we've had. Then we tried Log Cabin pancake house. It was the highest rated. Better, but still not great. Neither of them got our order right and neither had impressive pancakes/waffles/French toast. We will probably try two more and hope for a winner.

The dogs have gone with us almost everywhere and have done very well...mostly. Our anxious little guy decided to play with my husbands cell one day but did no damage. Yesterday, he decided to chew the corner of my bible and left me with an opportunity to exercise forgiveness.

We have felt good, so vacation has agreed with us. Kents knee hasn't hurt even with all the walking. My stomach has been a mess because I've not been able to tightly control dairy intake and I have no probiotics with me. I still continue to deal with this stupid virus. When tired, my eyes still won't blink right. I've still got a fair amount of face and ear pain from the inflamed nerve. I'm so ready for that to end, along with the vertigo.

Overall, this has felt like our first vacation after a long, hard year. It's the first time either of us have felt recharged. It's definitely the first time we've felt like we've gotten away from life. We have loved it.

No clue what we will do today, but I'm sure it will include good food and a drive in the mountains.

Rainy Day Drive

Yesterday, we made the rainy, 2-hour trek to see the Biltmore. It was our first time visiting North Carolina.

First of all, the Biltmore is beautiful. It's the largest home in the US and easily resembles a modern day castle. It took us several hours to walk 2.5 miles through it. That included four flights of stairs. The house contained so much artwork and a mastery of decorating skills.

Amongst all the ooohs and ahhhs of the 100s of tourists, I couldn't help but consider why.

The house was built by the Vanderbilt family. For someone my age, Gloria Vanderbilt and Anderson Cooper are the most notable of the family. A quick google search will give you more information of how the family made their wealth off shipping and the railroad.

Don't get me wrong, that's an important part of our history and our present. But touring the house really offers no valuable information of who these people were nor why this place was important.

The tour cost over $100 for both of us. I was thinking it would be something spectacular. It was, but it wasn't. It seemed to be a celebration of the American Dream....wealth and excess.

This house has 250 rooms in it. Each of the five family members had their own space, totally get that. I even get some of the rooms for entertaining and such. But it all seemed so excessive to me.

They began giving tours when the stock market crashed, then got into the wine making business over the past several decades. I can see where this establishment provides jobs, but I failed to see bigger ways that this family has used their wealth to enhance the community. I'm not saying they didn't, I'm just saying that the tour offered no good information. When I pay over $50 for a tour of a museum, I kind of expect to come away educated.

One of their current draws is a display call Dressing Downton. In random places throughout the home, there are outfits which resemble those from Downton Abbey. Admittedly, I've never watched this show. However, I know from reading a few signs that it is staged during the same era. That seemed to be the only connection. Honestly, it detracted from the overall experience for us.

North Carolina and their mountains are beautiful, even in the rain. The heavy rains left huge waterfalls for our viewing pleasure on the way home.

I'm sure I'll sound like ever the complainer, but this didn't seem like it was worth the money. Equally disappointing was paying $50 for two sandwiches for lunch. My sometimes cheap self had a tough time with the expense and felt like I got ripped off.

I suppose though, it's ok to once in a while see how .5% of the world lives.