To MyADHDMe....
You need a REAL star, Hollywood!
Thanks so much!!
From me and CJ (the awestruck blogger-to-be)
Merry Christmas, blog friends! I know you're wondering, "Did she finish painting her family room (finally....)??" (Nope!) * * * D oesn't this look like how our days are sometimes? Myriad things scattered about, unfinished. Trying to take a cozy, restful seat by the fire, but still that seat stays empty. We try to make things brighter, but the light strings don't quite have the power to make things clear for us. And we wonder how many coats it will take to cover up what had been there before, without splotches and unevenness. (Three may just be right--sigh....!) * * * We may have things unfinished. We may have "miscalculated" the use of our time. Or perhaps we were called away to other things for which we were needed, even if they weren't part of our plans. Even in our peaceful approach to Christmas, that seat of rest may be vacant. But the opportunity to "Be still...." doesn't always lie in a cozy sea...
Comments
... when your mom says you can. ;)
It was complete innocence, I promise you. RJ2 is your big fan; she says your name every time she sees your face.
And, if you must know, CJ thought ADHDMe was blonde! So, she didn't quite get it all right. (Does make me wonder who she was thinking about.....)
Yes, I can hear RJ2 saying "Hi Mrs...Chatty." Okay, well, you know what she really says. It's sweet. or else its "Hey girl." Which I believe I taught her. ;)
My apologies for misunderstanding, CK.
Gosh, a girl can't write posts fast enough around here....
You all go over and visit my other blog tomorrow, OK? She's a little more sane on the MOPS blog.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who has to watch the way I *say* something in writing. :)
"I am not jealous, I am not jealous, I am not...well hello. That comments screen sure did pop up quickly."
But then I decided I was playing the rejection card too much, so just went along with CJ.
Guess I had been playing it too much. LOL.
As a child I dreamed this day would come. I come from a poor poor home, really a shanty. There was no paper for all my creative thoughts so I wrote them with a stick in the sand and the snow, depending on the weather. The frustration that I endured every time the snow melted or the sand blew away in the wind was unbearable. One year for Christmas, in addition to the brand new pair of socks that we received every year, I was given a beautiful sheet of clean white paper. My dad had saved his money for months. But, alas, when the firewood was running low, we had to use it to help keep the shanty warm.
As the years went by, I saved my coins and bought a nail so that I could etch my writings into a scrap of wood. But again, Alas, the cold weather came again and the wood was needed for the fireplace to warm our shanty.
So, you must realize that this recognition is just overwhelming. Finally, I am able to put my thoughts on paper/computer for the world to read.
Now if I could only think of something to write...
(Hi CJ!)
You remind me of my third grade teacher. She would always sing Coal Miner's Daughter and talk about how she was one. But she wasn't.