The Crab Chronicles

Sandwiches: We Like 'Em Hot

I seriously love grilled cheese sandwiches. Even a bad grilled cheese is better than no Grilled cheese at all. Here's the easy way to make one.

Get your bread and your cheese ready. Heat up a skillet to medium high. Butter your bread and place it face down in the skillet. If you want to make it really tasty, add some garlic salt or garlic powder to the buttered bread. Touch the bread lightly with your finger after a minute or so. If it's hot, put the cheese on it. If you are also putting meat [I like to use ham] throw it in the skillet to get hot when you put the bread down. Put it atop the cheese. Take the other slice of bread and put it on top of the cheese. Cut the light off. Use a spatula to plate it. [You can tell I've been watching the Food network too much since I used "plate" as a verb.]

I like the Tillamook cheddar cheese a lot. I find it at Kroger. I also like Pepperidge Farm Farmhouse bread, because it's thicker and more hearty. When Mike first came here he hated American bread. The bread in Kazakhstan is usually homemade and much better. I cannot bake bread, so our compromise was the Pepperidge Farm bread. [I actually CAN make bread, but it's too time-consuming.]

Michael's all-time favorite sandwich is an open-faced sandwich with cheese, bacon, and tomato. Take your bread, and run it under the broiler, just for a few seconds. Make sure the broiler is on high. Take it out and flip it over. Toast it again for maybe 20 seconds. The toasting helps the bread hold the weight of everything else.

Pull it out and take a slice or two of tomato and put it on the bread. Salt it. Top it with a slice of cheese, then break a piece of bacon in two and place them atop the cheese. Make sure when you fry the bacon to leave it a bit on the flabby side. Put the sandwiches under the broiler just for a minute or so, until the cheese starts to bubble.Yum!

Mother used to like to mess with the people at Waffle House, the restaurant she and Dad frequented in their later years. Dad would be very stern with the waitress about his bacon -  "Make sure that bacon is CRISPY," he would say firmly. Then Mother would order. "Honey, for my bacon, make sure it's nice and FLABBY," she would say.

That kind of summed up their entire marriage. Amazing it lasted almost 40 years. LOL

Mother always calls people "honey." Dad called women "honey" and men "chief." He could never remember names.

*                    *                    *                    *                    *                    *                    * NEWS

I was sad to hear of the passing of Tony Curtis. We just watched Some Like it Hot recently. The kids liked it a lot.

We watch the Today Show most mornings while we eat breakfast. Today they had a wedding on the show. I asked Michael if he had ever been to a wedding, and he said no, so we watched some of it. I told him most people get married in a church or synagogue, and few people have Colin Cowie designing their weddings, but so be it. At least he has a better idea now of what real weddings look like - up until now all he knew was what he saw in movies.

I finally bit the bullet and got Mike a cell phone, on my plan. He got the phone today. I got insurance, so if he drops it or loses it, it will be replaced for free. He dropped the last one in the pool. He is hard on phones physically, but I've never had a problem with him burning through the minutes.

Alesia is supposed to come over Sunday for dinner. I asked her what she wanted me to fix and the answer was one word - lasagna. I do make good lasagna. Still no word if she's back at school, but I suspect not. I sent her some links to job ads and told her to get busy and find something. I hope she listens...

Hairy Comedian

Mother reminds me every day that Coco is our comic relief around here. She is our little hairy angel, who distracts us from our cares.

Every night before I go upstairs to bed, I help Mother get on her gown and I rub cream on her legs, because she has some edema. I usually put some moisturizer on her arms, too. Coco loves this process. She spends part of the evening in the family room, watching a movie with me and Michael, then she goes back to Mother's room and eats her tiny Milkbone dog bisquit in the middle of the bed. She cleans up her crumbs.That Milkbone is her ritual, every night.

Next, Coco watches carefully, and when she sees me squirt some cream into my hands to put on Mother's legs, she tries to lick the handcream bottle, my hands, Mother's legs, etc. Cream is like doggie crack to her. I have to gently swat her away so I can do what I need to do. We have a compromise. After I get Mother's arms and legs done, I let Coco lick my hands for a minute. She loves nearly all creams we have tried. In fact, I can't think of one she doesn't like. It doesn't seem to make her sick.

I think this is the cutest thing she does. Mother disagrees. Every afternoon, I get Mother tucked into her chair for a nap, and Coco gets on the ottoman and rests her head on Mother's leg, or foot, or snuggles in close. She will often get on the ottoman wagging her tail like c'mon, it's NAP time! Whoopee! We try to close all the blinds and curtains because if she sees someone walking down the street, Coco practically levitates from barking madly.

This is a dreadful photo of Alesia, but a cute one of Coco...

I made a good dinner tonight, and it was all done by just after lunch.

I cut up an entire onion and 2 yellow peppers, and sauteed them in olive oil, salt and pepper, 2 cloves minced fresh garlic, and some butter. When they were soft, I put them in the crock pot with a jar of Classico [3 cheese] marinara sauce, some beef broth, a small can of corn, soy sauce, some chopped up portobello mushrooms and carrots, about a cup of red wine, and finally a lb. of browned ground beef. I let it simmer for about 7 hours on low. About an hour before we were ready to eat, I dumped in some noodles and turned it up to high. YUM!

We serve this veggie beef soup with Fritos, and I like to put a little cheese on top of mine. It makes a very hearty and simple one dish meal.

Michael said he wasn't hungry, then he ate an enormous bowl full. Imagine if he HAD been hungry! Yikes.

No news from Alesia about school.

Beautiful Asparagus

When I was a kid, I thought all asparagus came in cans and it was a mushy mess. Ick. Mother says I liked canned asparagus as a small child, but I have no memory of it, thank God.

When I went to paralegal school, in the spring of 19... [cough, cough] I ate FRESH asparagus for the first time, just steamed, with a little butter and lemon. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Thank you Asparagus Goddess, thank you.

In addition to being delicious, asparagus has many health benefits, and I particularly like that it's a great source of potassium.

I bought some fresh asparagus the other day and I wanted to fix it last night. I wanted to do something different, though.

I found a recipe on Tasty Kitchen for Asparagus Fritatta last night, and it sounds wonderful. I am not into fritattas, though, so I modified it a bit.

I need to make a statement here, just for the record, about the correct way to remove the tough stem from an asparagus. I went to YouTube and tried to find a video demonstrating the correct way to get rid of the tough bottom of the asparagus stalk. Couldn't find one. Here's how NOT to do it: don't just grab them and whack of the bottom inch of stalk. NO! Put that knife down. Julia Child says you hold the asparagus and bend it until it breaks. It will break cleanly between the tough part and the tender part. This is how I've always done it, and it works. If you think you can cut the correct, tough stem part by just guessing, you are wrong. Bend it, and snap it.The knife is faster, but it's not the best way.

I once had a huge argument with my boyfriend about how to trim the end of an asparagus stalk. I couldn't convert him to Julia's way. We broke up soon afterwards.

Right afterward you bend and snap the stalk, stick the tip under running water. Sometimes there's dirt or grit in the tip. Wash the stalk carefully.

Here's what I did last night. After washing the asparagus and putting it in a bowl, I grabbed an entire white onion and cut it up fine. [I chop everything fine...]

I put the chopped onion in a small skillet with some olive oil, butter, salt and pepper, and cooked that sucker until a heavenly aroma filled the house. Ah, the smell of onion makes my mouth water...

Once the onions were brown and caramelized, I cut off the skillet and went off to help Mike with homework. [You can skip this step if you don't have homework..]

I went back in the kitchen an hour later and started cooking my main course [the salmon] in a skillet, and put the asparagus bowl in the microwave for a couple of minutes. I heated the onions again, and put the tender/crispy asparagus stalks in the lovely onion mixture and tossed them around. Right before dinner, I added some fresh parmesan cheese on top. DELICIOSO!! Muy muy bueno! Etta f'coosnah! Formidable!

There, I've said tasty in four languages.

Now go out and buy some lovely asparagus and cook it tonight!

Germaphobes and Calendars

I helped Michael write a paragraph for an English assignment the other day, and I was mortified to see the teacher's comments about it. It was so bad, the assignment had to be repeated. I am supposed to be a writer and I cannot even help my son write a paragraph.

Michael re-wrote it himself, and after I helped him smooth out some of the grammar, it was fine. I think.

He tried to make the Renaissance Festival sound exciting. I didn't go. I cannot imagine what's exciting about people in costumes acting like they're stuck in a time warp, but I am just cynical. Michael loved it.

I hear "renaissance" and all I can think about is Ye Olde Stinky Privy. Since I was forced to use outhouses in Kazakhstan a few years ago, I've had way too much experience with that. Mega Gross. And don't forget Ye Olde Unwashed Body odor, and Ye Olde Lice Infestation, and well, you get the picture...

I'm a third generation Germaphobe.

Mike had an orthodontist appointment today and we had a truly funny moment. We were standing at the counter while the lady made us another appointment, for November. There were some free calendars on the ledge, and she said "Take one, they're free!" - Nice promotional deal. There were calendars of puppies, kitties, pretty places, etc. Mike chose the calendar featuring cool cars. I started flipping through the other calendars.

"Awww, look at the kitties!" I exclaimed. "Look at the bunny rabbit!"

Mike didn't say a word for a moment, then he flipped open his new calendar. "Awwww, look at the cute little Porsche! Look at the sweet maserati!"

That child is QUICK.

News Items

Sometimes I don't write a personal bog for a day or two not because there's nothing going on, but because there is too much going on.This is going to be a tossed salad of news, but so be it..

Yesterday I spent a frustrating afternoon trying to rearrange a phone interview. I spent a fair amount of time sitting around reading a book and waiting for a lawyer to call me back. Finally, his assistant called and rescheduled the interview for Monday at 2. I hope I don't have to go through the "waiting by the phone" rigamarole again.

I had a good job interview yesterdaya afternoon, but I am not sure if I have a chance at the job. It's real estate litigation and I don't know anything about that. My brother used to work for a real estate title insurance company some years back, and would tell me tales about some of the wacky deals done by shady real estate lawyers, so my view of that particular specialty is somewhat jaded.

We went out to eat Mexican food at a local place last night. We hadn't been out to eat anywhere in a long time. The food is excellent, and really not expensive. We can eat there for less than $10 per person.

I find it sort of amusing that around here, when you go eat at a Chinese buffet [which I haven't done in a while because the last time, I got violently sick] all you see are hispanics in the restaurant. So why, when you go to eat Mexican food, do you only see white people there, and maybe one black person in the entire room?! I don't understand that. The room should be packed with Asian people.

A friend of mine posted on Facebook and said in his Chinese takeout food, the fortune was in English AND Spanish. I wonder if the translation was accurate?!?

Mike and I had to get up fairly early this morning, as he had an appointment with the optometrist for 9:00. We didn't get out of there until 11. When we went in this morning, there was no-one there. I like the doc very much, but man is he slow. Long story short, Michael has problems focusing between distance and closeup reading, so he's getting "progressive" trifocals. I hope he can wear them successfully. He is really not happy about wearing glasses. The doc even gave him a lecture about how nerds RULE the world! I told him once he gets the glasses I think he's going to notice a world of difference in everything - school, sports, everything. I know I did when I got my first glasses. It was almost too much, seeing the world with all its sharp edges, instead of the comforting blur I was accustomed to. We should be able to pick them up in about a week.

We came home for a bit, and I ran to the library while Michael let his eyes un-dilate. Then we ate lunch and Michael had to play in a tennis match.

I am so ready for fall, and ready to be done with this sticky hot weather. We are supposed to have showers tomorrow and Monday, and then the rest of the week it cools down.

Michael was appalled at the cost of his glasses, but it seems like no matter if you have insurance or not right around $300 is what glasses cost these days, if not more.

Since I've been laid off, it seems like we continually have had things that needed replacing around the house - the fridge, new car tires, rugs cleaned, etc. - all big ticket expenses. Once I get another job, I am going to pay off my credit cards, and try my best to live debt-free...

Michael is at a birthday party tonight. I hope he has fun. We agreed he would go, but sleep in his own bed tonight. He got over being angry pretty quickly the other day.

An Obituary for English

I was raised by a mother who revered the English language, and a father who spoke beautifully when he wanted to, and said "ain't" on occasion, just for effect. My grammar has been corrected by my mother probably 5 billlion times in the 46 odd years since I learned to talk. She came by it honestly. My grandmothers were both sticklers for proper English.

I am appalled by the way our language is misused daily. For instance, the phrase "continue on" is ridiculous. The word "on" is not needed. I got a text message from my daughter not long ago that used "imma" instead of "I'm going to" - and I shuddered in horror.

My mother's pet peeve is the misuse of the words "lay" and "lie." She reminds me often, "Chickens LAY eggs. People don't LAY down, they LIE down." I've also been corrected for saying "I'm gonna" and "where's he at?" - the popular retort being "he's behind the AT!"

[Now, I exempt southernisms. I use my Southern English daily, and sometimes I incorporate sayings I like from other cultures, like "wicked cool" and "bloody hell." Feel free to do the same, y'all.]

So when Mother sent me the column below by Gene Weingarten, I was tickled. I'm fixing to go eat lunch, but I wanted to share this, in case y'all needed a laugh...

As my friend Shalida would say, "This is a hot mess."

Goodbye, cruel words - English. It’s dead to me.

The English language, which arose from humble Anglo-Saxon roots to become the lingua franca of 600 million people worldwide and the dominant lexicon of international discourse, is dead. It succumbed last month at the age of 1,617 after a long illness. It is survived by an ignominiously diminished form of itself.

The end came quietly on Aug. 21 on the letters page of The Washington Post. A reader castigated the newspaper for having written that Sasha Obama was the “youngest” daughter of the president and first lady, rather than their “younger” daughter. In so doing, however, the letter writer called the first couple the “Obama’s.” This, too, was published, constituting an illiterate proofreading of an illiterate criticism of an illiteracy. Moments later, already severely weakened, English died of shame.

The language’s demise took few by surprise. Signs of its failing health had been evident for some time on the pages of America’s daily newspapers, the flexible yet linguistically authoritative forums through which the day-to-day state of the language has traditionally been measured. Beset by the need to cut costs, and influenced by decreased public attention to grammar, punctuation and syntax in an era of unedited blogs and abbreviated instant communication, newspaper publishers have been cutting back on the use of copy editing, sometimes eliminating it entirely.

In the past year alone, as the language lay imperiled, the ironically clueless misspelling “pronounciation” has been seen in the Boston Globe, the St. Paul Pioneer Press, the Deseret Morning News, Washington Jewish Week and the Contra Costa (Calif.) Times, where it appeared in a correction that apologized for a previous mispronunciation.

On Aug. 6, the very first word of an article in the Winston-Salem (N.C.) Journal was “Alot,” which the newspaper employed to estimate the number of Winston-Salemites who would be vacationing that month.

The Lewiston (Maine) Sun-Journal has written of “spading and neutering.” The Miami Herald reported on someone who “eeks out a living” — alas, not by running an amusement-park haunted house. The Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star described professional football as a “doggy dog world.” The Vallejo (Calif.) Times-Herald and the South Bend (Ind.) Tribune were the two most recent papers, out of dozens, to report on the treatment of “prostrate cancer.”

Observers say, however, that no development contributed more dramatically to the death of the language than the sudden and startling ubiquity of the vomitous verbal construction “reach out to” as a synonym for “call on the phone,” or “attempt to contact.” A jargony phrase bloated with bogus compassion — once the province only of 12-step programs and sensitivity training seminars — “reach out to” is now commonplace in newspapers. In the last half-year, the New York Times alone has used it more than 20 times in a number of contextually indefensible ways, including to report that the Blagojevich jury had asked the judge a question.

It was not immediately clear to what degree the English language will be mourned, or if it will be mourned at all. In the United States, English has become increasingly irrelevant, particularly among young adults. Once the most popular major at the nation’s leading colleges and universities, it now often trails more pragmatic disciplines, such as economics, politics, government, and, ironically, “communications,” which increasingly involves learning to write mobile-device-friendly ads for products like Cheez Doodles.

Many people interviewed for this obituary appeared unmoved by the news, including Anthony Incognito of Crystal City, a typical man in the street.

“Between you and I,” he said, “I could care less.”

Angry Boy

We watched an interesting movie tonight, The Book of Eli, starring Denzel Washington. I didn't think I would like it. It's a flawed film, but it's also very thought-provoking. Denzel usually chooses his films carefully and I can't recall seeing him in any outright stinkers. It's always good to see a new film released starring one of those few actors I trust, because they have good taste in scripts.

Steve Martin is another one who usually does good films. Another actor who chooses well, most of the time, is Julia Roberts. She's only done one film I hated, and that was Erin Brockovich. I found everything about that movie offensive, as it portrayed my profession [paralegal] in such a negative light.

Meryl Streep usually makes good films. So does Tom Hanks.

Michael is furious with me about the spend-the-night birthday party he's been invited to Saturday night. He can go, but I told him I'd pick him up by 10:30. He has to go to Sunday School on Sunday, and then in the afternoon he has to work on a school project that's due Monday. I know from experience that when he sleeps over at this annual birthday bash, he never gets enough sleep and he is sleepy and grouchy the next day. In fact, the last time he was there, last year, he stayed awake playing videogames all night, completely unsupervised. I told him then, you won't spend the night there again. You can go, just not to spend the night.

He's also ticked with me because he broke his cell phone and I haven't bought him another one. Of course, the fact I am dead broke doesn't seem to register with him. I'm hoping I will get several weeks of unemployment next week, but there's no guarantee. Government wheels turn sloooooowly...

I told him, if he needs to reach me there's a phone in the office, or he can borrow a friend's cell phone. You wouldn't believe how many middle-schoolers have their own phones. Alesia came here and started 7th grade after only a few months home, and about the 3rd day, she asked me, in English, for a cell phone. I laughed. I barely used my own cell phone at that point, 6 years ago.

Alesia has agreed to go to see the therapist, next week. I hope and pray she won't back out, like she did last week. She still has not gone back to school.

The good news is, I have two job interviews tomorrow afternoon, one by phone.

That news item about the Recession being over made me laugh. Just this week, I heard from an aquaintance that she lost her home to foreclosure. Another friend, long unemployed, is clinically depressed. I know a number of friends who have just quit looking for work.

The world is a changed place now, and we have to change with it.

I remember reading a quote I really liked not long ago, and I can't recall it exactly, but it said basically, it's not important if your children see you fail at something. It's important that they see you try again.

Imperfect Love

Before I became a mother, I remember my mom telling me that watching your child fail at something was the hardest thing in the world. Sometimes children have to screw up, big time, and learn lessons with pain and humility. We cannot always rescue our kids. If we do, how will they learn?

Experience is a harsh teacher.

My dad always said "People who don't make mistakes, don't learn."

I dreamed last night I will back in high school. I didn't know my class schedule. I didn't know the building. I was terrified of going into a class and immediately having to take a test I knew nothing about. I used to dream like that all the time when I was in the process of my adoptions. I called them the "school dreams." I am wrrestling with how to proceed with my life. I'm at a very low point. No job, no money, my daughter adrift. Trying to stay positive takes a lot of energy.

I had a long talk with Alesia's godmother last night. She has really stepped up to the plate and is watching out for Alesia. She saw her the other day. I am cautiously optimistic.

I am in contact with Alesia all the time, BTW. Rarely a day goes by we don't exchange messages.

Being 19 is so hard, no matter what the circumstances. You're legally an adult, yet most 19 year olds aren't mature enough to really handle adult responsibilities.

I remember a time when I was 19 years old, and my father and I had a big fight when I was home from college for Christmas. It was a terrible fight, and he hurt me badly. I vowed to leave home and never return. My mom and my brother talked me out of it. I went back to Athens to school, though, and didn't go home for about 4 months - my longest time away. When I did go home, it was a slow and painful process to rebuild my relationship with my father. I'm not sure it was ever the same. It was very imperfect from then until the day he died. We both had a lot of emotional issues.

However, I am so glad I didn't completely turn my back on my family at 19. So glad. Despite all the pain they caused me over the years, despite all the pain I'm sure I caused them, there was also a tremendous love. We had, and have, a strong family.

We are very flawed. I screw up all the time. Yet, I keep loving.

I have a friend who completely turned his back on his family years ago and has no contact with them. He is a loving person, but a huge chunk of his humanity is missing, because he's unwilling to do the hard, painful work to rebuild family relationships. I feel intensely sorry for him, and also a little impatient. Maybe that's why we are not closer friends.

Here's where faith comes in. I have a lot of it. It's an imperfect faith, I can readily admit. I don't try to preach to people to become "saved" because I am not sure what that means, and nobody has ever given me an explanation I can really endorse. However, I like the concept. I think salvation is a process though, not one action. I see people who are smug in their faith and I shake my head and try to avoid them. The minute you think you know everything, watch out. That's when God will remind you to be humble.

I seek continued prayers for my family, especially Alesia. I crave those prayers.

Even if you cannot quite believe in a deity, it's been scientifically proven that prayer WORKS. See here if you want to read more about it. So pray, if it feels comfortable. Pray even if you're not sure it will work - think of it as an experiment.

Pray for guidance for yourself as well as God's mercy for us.

Just pray.

Thanks.

Raised Right

My son Michael never ceases to amaze and amuse me. Usually he pops out with at least one memorable line a day, but today there were more...

Remember I blogged about making homemade pumpkin bread yesterday? Well this morning I put a big slab of it in front of Mike for breakfast, along with a glass of milk. He hates breakfast but he knows my rule is he HAS to eat something. He gobbled down the pumpkin bread and drained the glass of milk before I could even sit down at the table.

"I'm still hungry," he announced. I pondered a moment, and listed several things in the fridge. He got up and stood with the door open for a moment.

My brother used to do the Fridge Staring thing as a teenager. He would then pull out all the leftovers and make himself a ginormous "snack." Mike isn't quite there yet, but he ate a big bowl of potato salad to complete his breakfast.

After dinner tonight, which was pork roast, sauteed squash, watermelon, and garlic toast, he announced he felt he needed another shower, because he'd done a lot of running at tennis practice. I told him to go ahead and "rinse off" [the after-tennis shower is called a rinse-off around here] while Granny and I sat and talked after dinner. He saw me starting to put away the food and rushed over. "DON'T put it away!" he said. "I might be hungry again after I rinse off!"

So I put everything in plastic containers but left it on the counter. Fifteen minutes later he surveyed everything and thought and thought, then finally said I could put it up. "Thank you, your majesty" I groveled as I backed away, kowtowing. [hahahaha]

When I had picked him up from tennis practice he got in the car looking disgusted. "Kids nowadays just aren't raised right. They watch too much TV and play too many video games," he said, shaking his head. This, from a 14 year old. I asked him why he had come to this conclusion. "There were these kids at the pool running around and bothering people. And you know who plays too many video games!" Yes, there's a child on the tennis team who is a video game-aholic. Scary.

In the south, we have this concept called "raised right." People who are raised right have good manners, are honest, keep their yard neat, go to church most Sundays, vote in every election, work hard, and generally are good folks.

Even my brother, who is rather cantankerous a lot of times, exhibits the quality. He has a neighbor, a single working mom, who has a hard time finding time to mow her grass. Bruce doesn't like her, but he mows her grass when it needs mowing. He's done it for years. I doubt she's ever thanked him.

My dad used to tell me and Bruce to always "do the right thing." You hope if you raise your kids right, by the time they grow up they will just instinctively know how to do the right thing.

Mike already has a good sense of doing the right thing. He takes care of his grandmother, and rarely argues when asked to help around the house. He's a mensch. I'm proud of him.

I just worry about keeping him filled up...

September Sunday

I have to say it's been a pretty good Sunday. Some good things happened.

Michael and I went to Sunday School but didn't stick around for church. We had to get home and work on homework, so he could head to the pool. Today was it's last open day of the season. It was in the low 90's so it was appropriate. Hard to imagine fall is just around the corner, when it still looks and feels like midsummer here. Anyway, Michael was at the pool about 4 hours, and came home limping because of playing frisbess barefoot on the hot pavement.

I saw him limping after he got back from youth group tonight, and I learned about the frisbee foot-burning. "Well, I assume that taught you a lesson, huh?!" I asked him.

"Oh no, I'll do it again. We had FUN!" he assured me and Mother. We laughed.

Despite the weather, I was in the mood for pumpkin bread. I made two loaves and carried one to my friend Scott and his family.

It was so nice to see Scott, an old friend I hadn't seen in years. He and his partner Paul have 7 month old twin baby boys, and live only about 15 minutes away. Those babies are absolutely adorable. They aren't crawling yet, so you could set them down and they'd stay. I was able to visit a long time with them. It was so nice just sitting and chatting, with no drama.

I think I blogged the other day about Michael being in a lull as far as growth. Well, we measured today and he has grown nearly an inch in the past 2 weeks! I am so thankful. There's no way to tell how big he will ultimately be, as I have no information on his birthfather and Michael never met him. So it's like Forrest Gump said "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

I'm asking God for a reprieve from all drama for a few days, so I can regroup emotionally. We've had several situations that have upset me this weekend, and I need a break. You know how, when you stand in the ocean, even in shallow water, the shifting sands beneath your feet make it impossible to stand in one place for very long? Well, that's how I feel at the moment. I cannot stand in one place [emotionally] long enough to catch my breath. My feet keep getting knocked out from under me.

What I need to do is quit trying to stand, just lie back and float, knowing God will hold me. That just occurred to me. That's the very definition of faith - giving up the struggle and letting God do the work. Easier said than done. I'm trying.

The funny thing is, my horoscope says September is a pretty calm month for Cancerians... That should teach me to never pay attention to horoscopes... LOL