Obsessive? Yes.

If you ask any of my friends what part of my physical being I'm most anal about, there would be NO QUESTIONS. You would always get one consistent answer – the hair on my fat-cheeked head. And you know what? I'm okay with that. I have worked really hard over the last 10 years to scare the gray peons back into the inside of my scalp versus allowing them to play on the outside. Except that CPS called and said that I can't keep anything locked up inside my head house anymore. They have to be free. Fine. I just costume them in outfits that look much like the rest of the outside scenery. It's like follicle camoflage.

I have several women, who I see on a regular basis, who insist on leaving their house with wet, stringy, unkempt hair. Not just 'kind of' wet, but all-the-way, all-my-towels-are-in-the-wash, I-tried-to-drink-out-of-the-water-hose wet.

I can't, for the LIFE of me, understand how a grown woman – one who wants to get laid (I assume) – would get up in the morning and never once entertain the company of a blow dryer or flat iron. I understand a lack of styling, a lack of makeup, and even a lack of underwear, but I just don't get how wet hair makes you feel as if you are "put together" when you get in your car to travel to someplace where other people are.

There are many women, my mother and sister included, who don't use a blow dryer at all. That is totally fine with me, because they wait to exit their homes until they don't look like they just walked through a hurricane.

I know that I'm odd – that I'm one of those freakishly obsessive women who actually care about the fact that they might see Kevin Bacon at the coffee shop in downtown Chattanooga. Regardless, sopping, wet hair just isn't pretty. It makes you look like you said, "you know, I really wish everyday could be a 'just got out of the ocean' look kinda day." Keep it up and you'll soon be wearing your slippers to the office.








Oh shit, I know women like that too.

Etsy Love

Heather Montgomery is doing some really cool stuff in her studio near Cincinnati. She's originally an abstract artist, but has started creating these custom wall pieces of cross cut wood. She hand-paints the rings of the trees so that she reveals the amazing texture and some really cool natural, reclaimed art.

Enjoy, and check her out if you are looking for a gift that has to be unique. I'm fairly certain that your mother-in-law doesn't have these hanging on her wall.

We are...

So, many of you have no doubt seen this video. Some of you, I trust, have not. There are many things in this world that break my heart. People going hungry, children without clean water, and assholes that abuse innocent animals are on my short list. But, above all, with every fiber of my body, I despise children, teenagers, young adults, adults and seniors who bully, belittle and shame those in this world that are different. 

This kid is one of the strong ones, at least for now. I pray and pray that he retains this strength through the remainder of his life. He will need it. Because for all the good we do, we are still a mean people bunch.

must remember...

Etsy Color - Pistachio

I'm digging this color right now. It bridges the gap for me between summer sea foam and winter frost. Enjoy!

 

1) Casserole Dish from claycoyote      2) Pistachio Lane print from bitowhimsy     3) Fingerless arm warmers by piabarile     4) Pleated KissLock Clutch from ItsSoClutch     5) Filligree Circle Earrings from rubyclover     6) Pillow Sham Cover from pipdesigns

please watch after your Thanksgiving consumption...

The single-pipe alpine coaster located in Mieders, Austria, is reachable only by taking a suspended cable car to the top of the mountain. It seats one person at a time and has a hand-applied brake. This moron decided to not to use the brake...at all...even in the part of the ride that make you lose your lunch.

oh dear Lord...

<GASP!!> oh dear, Lord...this person is me

hypnotic stare...

This is her "is any of that chocolate coconut cake for me?" face...

And this is her "you've got to be kidding me, right? There is no evidence that a single, solitary piece of that crumb fell? How is it even possible that your boob-shelf didn't collect SOMETHING?" face...

tell me how you really feel...

This morning I awoke to a big, fat, gray cat sitting on my pillow eating my hair. I know that some of you might find this astonishing, but quite honestly, he does it every morning and I've learned that it's the best way to get rid of my split ends. Talk about saving money!

My routine is consistent – I awake, pee, feed the cats, jump in the shower, dress, blow dry my hair, and then I wake up the dogs. You know, those dogs who can't be bothered to get out from under the covers anytime before 7:30 am.

So, today, I arise to hair chewing and the cries of a cat who clearly has enough meat on his bones to last him until 2015. But as I head out into the kitchen to feed he and his partner in crime, Bailey, I realize something is amiss. Bailey, my sweet, little, black and brown tortie, is no where to be found. I call for her, spring into "mad momma" panic mode and start tearing the house apart. She's no where - not in any of her hiding places and not locked in the basement. I'm freaking out. This is a cat who is a total momma's girl and will do anything she can to get my attention. Unless of course, she's living with Mike at any given time and then she's HIS cat - can't even be bothered to say hello to me. Come to think of it, she's quite a little shit.

Anyway, no Bailey. Anywhere. I check the screened in porch, just in case, but I know that it's impossible that she's out there because she NEVER (read: NEVER) goes out on that porch. It spooks her out. It makes her wild. I call for her, whistle, and no Bailey. Until, from the underside of the bar, I hear this little whimper. She's hunkered down in the warmest place she can find, crying for her momma.

I'm relieved, guilt-ridden, and most of all I'm glad that I won't be any later for work. We come inside and I'm amazed at her clinginess to me. She doesn't want to eat by herself or even be left in a room alone. Poor baby, she's just suffered a traumatic experience and she wants her momma to comfort her. I bring her cat bowl back into the bedroom where I'm getting ready and she eats the rest of it there. I'm thinking, "aw, look at this little girl. So happy to be back inside and not wanting me to leave her again."

At that point, she looks at me, screams this blood-curdling howl, and pounces on my arm. She pounces on me like she's never attacked before and continues to scream at me as I wrestle her off me. It's like a scene from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Once she's free, she stands at the edge of the room and berates me for a solid 2 minutes – screaming, hissing, crying – I think at one point she actually meowed, "how DARE you??" Here I am, being sympathetic to her cries and feeling so bad for her. When in her mind, all she wanted to do was disembowel me and send me to the Dexter set.

I got told off by an eight pound mini-cat this morning. Who else can say that? Huh? Come on, I'm listening.

i'm over it, too

She's an Tony-award winning playwright and activist. She's written a piece that is both brilliant and sad, touching and infuriating. Eve Ensler pulls no punches. All I want to know is, where do I show up on Feb 14, 2013. I'm there. I'm so there.

As published by the Huffington Post, November 11, 2011. Find the original here.

I am over rape.

I am over rape culture, rape mentality, rape pages on Facebook.

I am over the thousands of people who signed those pages with their real names without shame.

I am over people demanding their right to rape pages, and calling it freedom of speech or justifying it as a joke.

I am over people not understanding that rape is not a joke and I am over being told I don't have a sense of humor, and women don't have a sense of humor, when most women I know (and I know a lot) are really fucking funny. We just don't think that uninvited penises up our anus, or our vagina is a laugh riot.

I am over how long it seems to take anyone to ever respond to rape.

I am over Facebook taking weeks to take down rape pages.

I am over the hundreds of thousands of women in Congo still waiting for the rapes to end and the rapists to be held accountable.

I am over the thousands of women in Bosnia, Burma, Pakistan, South Africa, Guatemala, Sierra Leone, Haiti, Afghanistan, Libya, you name a place, still waiting for justice.

I am over rape happening in broad daylight.

I am over the 207 clinics in Ecuador supported by the government that are capturing, raping, and torturing lesbians to make them straight.

I am over one in three women in the U.S military (Happy Veterans Day!) getting raped by their so-called "comrades."

I am over the forces that deny women who have been raped the right to have an abortion.

I am over the fact that after four women came forward with allegations that Herman Cain groped them and grabbed them and humiliated them, he is still running for the President of the United States.

And I'm over CNBC debate host Maria Bartiromo getting booed when she asked him about it. She was booed, not Herman Cain.

Which reminds me, I am so over the students at Penn State who protested the justice system instead of the alleged rapist pedophile of at least 8 boys, or his boss Joe Paterno, who did nothing to protect those children after knowing what was happening to them.

I am over rape victims becoming re-raped when they go public.

I am over starving Somalian women being raped at the Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya, and I am over women getting raped at Occupy Wall Street and being quiet about it because they were protecting a movement which is fighting to end the pillaging and raping of the economy and the earth, as if the rape of their bodies was something separate.

I am over women still being silent about rape, because they are made to believe it's their fault or they did something to make it happen.

I am over violence against women not being a #1 international priority when one out of three women will be raped or beaten in her lifetime -- the destruction and muting and undermining of women is the destruction of life itself.

No women, no future, duh.

I am over this rape culture where the privileged with political and physical and economic might, take what and who they want, when they want it, as much as they want, any time they want it.

I am over the endless resurrection of the careers of rapists and sexual exploiters -- film directors, world leaders, corporate executives, movie stars, athletes -- while the lives of the women they violated are permanently destroyed, often forcing them to live in social and emotional exile.

I am over the passivity of good men. Where the hell are you?

You live with us, make love with us, father us, befriend us, brother us, get nurtured and mothered and eternally supported by us, so why aren't you standing with us? Why aren't you driven to the point of madness and action by the rape and humiliation of us?

I am over years and years of being over rape.

And thinking about rape every day of my life since I was 5-years-old.

And getting sick from rape, and depressed from rape, and enraged by rape.

And reading my insanely crowded inbox of rape horror stories every hour of every single day.

I am over being polite about rape. It's been too long now, we have been too understanding.

We need to OCCUPYRAPE in every school, park, radio, TV station, household, office, factory, refugee camp, military base, back room, night club, alleyway, courtroom, UN office. We need people to truly try and imagine -- once and for all -- what it feels like to have your body invaded, your mind splintered, your soul shattered. We need to let our rage and our compassion connect us so we can change the paradigm of global rape.

There are approximately one billion women on the planet who have been violated.

ONE BILLION WOMEN.

The time is now. Prepare for the escalation.

Today it begins, moving toward February 14, 2013, when one billion women will rise to end rape.

Because we are over it.

missing Skyline Drive

I've been spending a lot of time on Etsy lately, what, with the launch of my store. I'm always overstimulated by the color and variety that is available on the site, but this week I'm especially noticing all the reds and oranges of fall. Here in Tennessee, we still have colorful leaves, although I know that in Virginia, they are long fallen.

This imagery makes me miss the Skyline Drive.

 

1. Copper Acorn Necklace by debradane  2. Rosette Headband by darlingbowtique  3. Original Oil Painting by luizavizoli  4. Abstract Stained Glass by gallerydelsol  5. Red Orange Lampwork Beads by rachelcartglass     6.  Autumn Pillow by moonspiritstudios

amazeballs...

Seriously, this girl needs some Adderall. This poster was submitted as an entry to the Positive Posters contest. There is nothing on this board but nails and string.

I'm amazed at how she was able to create the flow of color gradient. Wow. Just. Wow.

courtesy of Dominique Falla

Life changer

There is no where in the world that I love more than New Orleans. I've been all over Europe, Asia and North America, and still haven't found a place that makes me feel as comfortable or warm. That being said, the city is not without its foibles. The city government has been filled with corruption – long before the Katrina disaster – and the politicians have always had their true motives called into question. The class structure is as dynamic as any other city of size, but is more pronounced with a minimalized middle class within New Orleans parish. The cops and the streets are dirty, the Mississippi dirtier times three.

Still, I smile when I hear mention of NOLA, I bask in the Quarter's glow every chance I get and I would be hard pressed to say that Mike and I have not thought about making the city our permanent home if the stars aligned in our favor.

Last weekend I had the chance to play "tour guide" to one of Mike's classmates who had never seen the city. It was nice for me, because I have been there so often that I don't always get to do the things that we did. It was a refreshing reminder of all the amazing things that the city, specifically the Quarter, has to offer. When B left on Monday morning, I stayed an extra day to hang out with my girlfriends and experience Halloween on Bourbon Street. The costumes were AMAZING and the party was out of control. I loved almost every minute of it.

That night, I experienced something that I thought I never would. As I was walking between two bars, on either end of Bourbon St, I came upon an crowded intersection. Nothing odd about it, really. The mounted police were high above the crowd, keeping their eyes out for drunks and flashing boobs, when out of the blue, I was met with several "pop...pop....pop-pop-pops." I watched, twelve people away from me, a young man be shot in the head and another in the shoulder. This happened right in front of the police, right in the middle of a crowded, celebratory, costume-wearing crowd. The target was intended, presumably gang-related, but none of us knew that at that given moment.

In my thirty-something years, I've never seen anything shot. Not a deer, a turkey, a horse – much less a human. There are many more details to this story, but most of you are as uninterested in hearing them as I am in telling them. Suffice to say, I was a shaking, panicked mess who paused for a moment and wondered where my city went.

I realized, however, that it hadn't gone anywhere. I was simply more immersed in it than I ever had been in the past. This world has evolved into one that allows us to comfortably hunker down in the pockets of life that don't scare us, that don't put us in harms way. We are given the freedom and right to live free from danger and to travel in relative safety. But just like anything, we live with choice – free will.

I'm proud to love the city of New Orleans, and I'm even more excited to travel back. I appreciate the sentiment of those who say, "uh, are you crazy?" – and to that I say, "I doubt it." But I will say that this event has taught me to be less cavalier about all my travels and all my adventures outside my own door – whether they be in Chattanooga or Shanghai. All I know is that fear won't help me make better decisions, but it will cause me to miss out on what life has in store for me.

M.I.A.

So, work travel has made it difficult for me to keep up – not just with the blog, but with many things.
On my plate right now:

• moving Biased Baby clothing line off of cafepress.com and onto Etsy. This will allow me to cut my prices in almost half and hopefully build the business more. I already have an Etsy page, but it doesn't contain my clothing line. I've gotten all my business licenses transferred to Tennessee, so as soon as my wholesale purchase certificate is processed, I'll be up and running. It can't happen fast enough.

• Masters Program work. I just got my seventh A, meaning my 4.0 GPA remains intact. This program is kicking my ass, though. When I was in college, I was in the fine arts program, so the time spent in research and writing was never this intense.

• Keeping up with things at work. It's not glamorous, but it's the truth. There's so much to do, sometimes I just stare at my desk, dumbfounded at where to start.

• Missing my husband and babies. So, the kids have been @ Mike's for 3 weeks because my travel schedule was so crazy. Mike, as you might remember, is a 4th year Veterinary Medicine student and lives elsewhere. It's nice that his school schedule afforded me the ability to leave the pups and kittens there, but my house is such a sad, pitiful place to come home to. The quiet is deafening. I might have to bring in a random cat and have it crap on the floor, just so I can think that the big, fat cat is back at home. Thankfully, I get to pick them up next weekend and see Mike for a solid 3 days. I won't know what to do with myself.

So, I've got a TON of stuff to tell you guys – Europe trip, New Orleans trip + tragedy, new Biased clothing spawned by the Occupy Wall St movement and some cool pics to share. I'll be back tomorrow, promise.

Not For Sale

While I was in London this past weekend, I rekindled my love for AllSaints - the eclectic fashion retailer that sells things I can't afford yet can't live without. I was smitten with so much that I saw that I almost had to bring out the smelling salts to keep from fainting.

It was at that point that I encountered this brilliant selection of merchandise. The Not For Sale collection is a series of shirts that works in partnership with the international anti-human trafficking group, Not for Sale.

All Saints says, "proceeds from the line will benefit Not For Sale’s work to combat human trafficking globally, and producers will promote the shared vision of Not For Sale and AllSaints to prevent forced labour and end human trafficking. Not For Sale equips and mobilizes Smart Activists to deploy innovative solutions to re-abolish slavery – in their own backyards and across the globe. Together we can end slavery in our lifetime."

 

So stinkin' cute...

You know, if I had a trunk, I'm not sure that I would know what to do with it either. Look at this sweet little baby elephant who is just learning to walk. Not only can he not figure out what his trunk is for, but he gets it stuck under one of those big legs of his. Ten out of ten on the "sweet-o-meter."

Etsy Love...

In honor of my upcoming trip to Paris next week - and the fact that I am as excited about fresh macaroons as I am about shopping, here are some beautiful Etsy prints that pay homage to my food fetish.

 

 

rant - be warned

Today I realized that it's National Pet Peeve week. I've never needed a reason to share the things that drive me bat-shit crazy, but heck, if the week COMMANDS it, then who am I to deny you?

I'll start by saying that it's totally my father's fault that I'm an impatient, easily annoyed girl. I don't take people's crap well, there's really no other way to say it. But I do have things that annoy me more than others; things that will send my blood pressure through the roof and make me want to hit things. I realize as I write this, that it appears that I have a problem with rage. I can assure that's not the case – as long as the following things are kept under control by the people that surround me.

1. If you make more noise chewing your food than you do talking. This normally means one of two things. Either you have taken too much food into your pie hole and can't chew it at a normal volume or, two, you were raised by wolves.

2. If you don't stop for people in crosswalks. I won't go on about this, as I've already clearly told you how I feel.

3. If you give me advice via my Facebook status. Just because I'm your 'friend' doesn't mean that I need you to tell me what what you think I should do. If you are family or someone that I would talk to everyday regardless of our Facebook interaction, then you get a free pass. But if we aren't tight, stay out of my shit. Now, if I ask a specific question, then all bets are off. But most times, my status is not meant as an invitation for "you know what you should do?" commentary. Just sayin'.

4. If you have poor grammar.  I can't handle people who don't know the difference between their, they're, and there. Or the difference between lose and loose. Or the difference between your and you're. Or the difference between its and it's. Or the difference between...never mind, you get the point.

Look, no one is perfect. I have found errors in my writing and I'm mortified when I realize that I haven't caught the mistake before hitting the "publish" button. Mistakes happen, and always will. But if you are a working professional and your job includes sending emails to other professionals, then you may want to brush up on your skills. Not only does it annoy me, but it makes you look uneducated.

5. If you litter. Here's the deal - it's called a trash receptacle for a reason - it RECEIVES trash. If you have one, single thing that you don't put in a trash can, you are destroying my planet. You know what? That means you piss me off.

But above all, my single, biggest pet peeve is you smokers who think that the world is your ashtray. Driving behind a vehicle that tosses a burning butt out the car window makes me want to act violently towards you. It makes me want to reenact any number of scenes from Pulp Fiction on you. Probably not the gimp scene, but there are so many other options. Seriously, DON'T THROW YOUR CIGARETTE BUTTS OUT YOUR CAR WINDOW!! Don't toss them on the ground as you are walking down the street. Don't rub them against a brick wall and then toss them in the grass. You are committing a crime and I will tell you about it. I honk at you while driving and I remind you of your crime when walking. Yes, I'm one of those people. You know what? Don't do it and you won't have to listen to me bitch. Pretty easy solution as far as I'm concerned.



That's my short list. The end.

your daily bias...

Cold Nose

Etsy Love

Have you ever seen anything so AMAZINGLY cute? I mean, like cute on cocaine. Like cute with a side of cute. Like cute that trumps cute with the cute card!

My hound dog would look funny with her floppy ears hanging out of this, but the husky? With her perky white ears? SOLD!

Get one here, courtesy of Beantown Handmade.

I Heart...

Many of us have seen lines and lines of tributes to Steve Jobs, who passed away Wednesday from pancreatic cancer. We have quote him, thought on the message he preached, and continued to use the products he brought us without second thought.

As I sit here, typing this entry on my MacBook Pro, I can't say that my heart isn't heavy. But it's not heavy because he died – although cancer indeed sucks ass. Truly, I'm sad for me and for all the other Apple users in the world because we will never know what the next twenty years of Jobs' brain activity might have brought. The legacy that lives within the walls in Cupertino will undoubtedly continue the progress, but to what extent? I'm feeling selfish. I want more digital goodness. I love the rush I get when I read a leaked report about what's happening at my favorite brand. It's really that simple.

The boys at Foundery, a branch of Mint Digital, found a SUPERB way to honor this innovation giant. Below you will see the portrait that was created using old Apple parts. I seriously would want this in my living room if it weren't for the absolute disaster it would be to dust.

I Heart...

these glicee prints from The Pink Pagoda. I'm in Asia a great deal and am used to seeing this style of artwork in very standard palettes and approaches. I love the color and energy that these bring to traditional subjects.

Check out their Etsy page.

A letter from my four-legged loves

A Dog's Ten Commandments

1. My life is likely to last 10 to 15 years. Any separation from you will be painful, remember that before you get me. 

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me. 

3. Place your trust in me- it is crucial to my well being. 

4. Do not be angry at me for long, and do not lock me up as punishment. 

5. You have your work, your entertainment,and your friends. I only have you. 

6. Talk to me sometimes. Even if I don't understands your words, I understand your voice when it is speaking to me. 

7. Be aware that how ever you treat me, I will never forget. 

8. Remember before you hit me that I have teeth that could easily hurt you, but I choose not to bite you because I love you. 

9. Before you scold me for being uncooperative, obstinate, or lazy, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I might not be getting the right food, or I have been out too long, or my heart is getting to old and weak. 

10. Take care of me when I get old; you too will grow old. Go with me on difficult journeys. Never say: "I cannot bear to watch" or "Let it happen in my absence." Everything is easier for me if you are there, even my death. Remember that I love you.

© Stan Rawlinson 1993

I Heart...

I can't find a source for this. I'm happy to give MAD props to the author, seeing as they somehow climbed inside my brain and sucked all the sarcasm juice out. They then blended that juice with some eye rolling and open mouth howling laughs. Just sayin'...

 

Today, September 29

Today I celebrate the birthday of sweet Lynn. She truly is a miracle amongst all miracles and she loved me as no friend, present or past, ever could. I am so relieved that I can speak of her now with smiles and fondness instead of sadness and tears. It's a testament to the healing process and how it's neither guaranteed or on our timeline.

I know that many of you don't know Lynn's story. That's okay because her life was so much more than the story of her death. I reread the eulogy that I was fortunate to give at her funeral 9 1/2 years ago and it's as timely now as it was then. If you are interested, read on. But don't feel as if you must. I have not updated any of the grammatical issues - it just didn't seem necessary.

Happy Birthday, my sister. I hope that your 41 candles are setting Heaven afire today. 

Eulogy - June 18, 2002

"A woman of noble character, who can find?

For her price is far above rubies.

She is clothed with strength and dignity, she can laugh at the days to come.

She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat of the bread of idleness.

Her children arise and call her blessed, her husband also, and he praises her.

Many women do noble things, but you exceedeth them all.

Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain, but a woman who feareth the Lord shall be praised.

Give her of the fruit of her hands and let her works praise her in the gates."

The reading comes from Proverbs 31:10 and 26-31. I can't help but continue to go back to this passage as I reflect on the life of Lynn Robinson. It sums up, to me, the life that Lynn had built. Faithfulness and undying love to her husband, children and family - but above all, faith in her Lord Jesus Christ.

For those of you who are unaware, Lynn and I have been best friends since childhood. I would like to start by thanking Buddy, Janet, and Stanley for giving me, what perceive as the greatest honor. You have no idea how much this means to me and how I will cherish this for all my days.

I have thought about what I would say as I stand before you, constantly, over the past few days. Should I give you a brief history into the life of Lynn? Should I use stories to give you a glimpse into her day to day? Should I pass along words of wisdom that would help all of us understand this tragedy a little bit better?  I have decided that a little bit of each is the best option, as I could very well keep you here for a good 4 hours, should I share it all.

Elizabeth Lynn Carbaugh was born September 29, 1970 to Janet and Stanley Carbaugh. A curious, energetic, yet reserved child, she excelled in school and building friendships. She played daily with the children that lived in the neighborhood that Janet and Stanley still call home. Some of those childhood friends are here today. She continued to grow in her faith as a faithful attendee here at SCUMC. She was a member of the National Honor Society at her alma mater, James Wood High School in Winchester. She attended Lord Fairfax Community College and shortly after graduation, met the love her life, Buddy. Buddy and Lynn married on August 24, 1991 and started their lives together in a little apartment in downtown Winchester. Shortly, Rachel Elizabeth arrived to grace them with more happiness than either could have imagined. Ralph Raymond, or "BJ" as we all know him, followed four years later. Upon BJ's arrival, Lynn and Buddy decided that Lynn would leave her long-time position at Selma Medical Associates, to become a full-time mother.

Lynn was active in the Inwood Primary School PTA, the Stephens City UMC Preschool Board and here at the Stephens City UMC. She served on the Church Council and was instrumental in establishing the Partners in Faith Sunday School class that has grown from 6 members at it's inception 5 years ago, to almost 40 members now.

Those of us that spent our weekend evenings with Lynn, know that she was most affectionately referred to as "Ms. Milton Bradley." Game nights brought extremely tough competitions that usually ended in the girl’s team, myself and Lynn viciously defeating the boys team, my husband, Mike and Buddy. On the few times that we didn't win, you could see the mental gears churning in Lynn's head as she studied and memorized the answer to every question that she missed - just so it would never happen again.

Above all, she was a loyal mother, wife, daughter, granddaughter, cousin, niece and friend. There was no one in her life that didn't know how she felt about them. She was an avid writer and often found that the things she couldn't say in person were best said through a card, that she usually spent hours finding the perfect one. She adored her children and spent her life teaching them to be moral, loving, and faithful citizens. Rachel and BJ are a testimony to the life she lived. She was a faithful and loving wife to Buddy and always strived to keep him on his toes. Never knowing what might come out of her mouth, we were constantly amazed at her deep thoughts and her evaluation of situations. She valued her parents, grandmother, and the life that they had formed for her. It was through their faith that she often reflected on her own journey. She would not be the woman she is if it were not for you. For that, all of us that love her thank you.

The fact that we are here now, in this place, under these circumstances, is what I think is most surprising to all of us. Although none of us can understand the whys of our presence here today, we can be sure of several things.

First, Lynn loved us all. She spent her life befriending and loving all the people she knew. This trait was a direct link to her love for the Lord. It is through her love for Jesus Christ that she loved each of us. She knew that each person in her life was a gift from God and she treasured that gift with all that was in her.

Second, Lynn is with the Savior that she called her own. It is so hard for me to say goodbye to a friend and sister as special as Lynn, but I have to know that her place in heaven is a special one. God had a very special purpose for Lynn and he is using her now for to accomplish it.

Lastly, we all cannot help but feel angry, hurt, confused and full of sorrow. God understands that. Lynn, too, I have to feel sure. In my heart, I know that Lynn will continue to support Buddy with a loving hand in the raising of their children. He will feel her guidance and love when he needs it most. Rachel and BJ, Mommy will look down on you with love and admiration at the children and eventually adults you will become. She will guide you and be with you through those happiness-filled times and the sorrow filled times. Janet, Stanley, Maw Maw and all of the rest of her family, she will continue to comfort and help, as only Lynn could. She will be there in your smiles and your tears, proud of what the Carbaugh, Petrie and Robinson families are able to achieve.

To Buddy, Rachel, and BJ - Mike and I will never be far from you. We will help, love and care for you. That is my promise to you. To Janet, Stanley, Dot and her family, my prayers for strength and healing are with you daily. You are my family too and my pain is your. And lastly, to my friend, my sister, my confidant, my spirit - your place in my heart is permanent and life long. I love you and will miss you until I join you again.

Lynn, may God bless you and may God’s peace be with each one of us.

Keep your turds to yourself...

Okay, so I'm not one to do testimonials for things that I actually own...normally I'm coveting things that I can't afford. But this product has made more of a difference in my life than any other in the past three months. Once you find out what it is, many of you will say, "geez, girl - you need to find some other interests if THIS is what's getting you excited." Eh, what can I say? I'm a married woman living alone with four animals, planter fasciitis, and a reality TV addiction. Could be worse, right?

For my friends who are mothers, many of you had at least one (or if you are like my sister, one-in-every-room) Diaper Genie. You know, that odor-proof diaper disposal system that lets you avoid opening your kitchen trash can every morning and wondering who stashed the dead rat under your liner. It was a great creation for the baby-occupied household for a multitude of reasons, the first of which being another thing that you moms get to put on the "honey-do-and-complain-about-it-nonstop" list.

Well, I don't have a baby. I won't have a baby, and if I do have a baby, divorce is eminent. This based on my darling, bald husband's wise choice to surgically eliminate the possibility of pregnancy -- which means that if I show up with something in the womb, either I've made good on my Kevin Bacon 'allowance' or you can call me Virgin Mary of Chattanooga.

This, my friends, is the LitterLocker. It's a Diaper Genie for cat turds!!! CAN YOU HEAR THE EXCITEMENT IN MY VOICE RIGHT NOW??? This little wonder allows me to scoop the cat box leavin's directly into the Locker, where they are sucked into a black hole of nothingness. No smell, no constant running to the outdoor trash with a Target bag full of cat crap, and most importantly, no access for the Hound Dog when she smells cat brownies baking.

 

For reals, this little wonder has been a miracle. If you are like me, and can't think of anything you hate more than scooping crap out of a plastic box, then this is what you need. Not to mention, it will give you WAY more time for your (er, my) reality TV fix.