From Go-Quiz.com

On Being and Nothingness

Oh, yes, I know, I stole the title from one of those philosopher guys I enjoy reading, but it fits for today.  Yesterday over on Kris' site, she posed a question from one of her readers ... What do you think about the idea of -"What if after you die- nothing happens"? No reincarnation, no heaven or hell, or God- nothingness?  (If you aren't a regular Krisinluck reader, you're missing out.  She addresses deep questions and isn't afraid of the reality implied in her answers.  She talks about God without doing Godtalk.  I mean, don't you just know that anyone who can make an atheist commenter feel comfortable asking the above question is someone that it's safe to talk with?)  She has said that she'll be writing her answer to that question and invited people to comment in advance on the topic. My comment was becoming blog length so I decided to bring it back over here and write out some of the thought that question inspired in me. 

Yes, this will be a God blog, but I'll try to keep my preaching down to the level where we are all dismissed in time to have a day.  (That's a Southern church joke.  You've heard it right?  Two children, one Catholic and one Protestant are best friends and they invite each other to share worship.  First they attend the Catholic mass and that child carefully explains each part of the service to the other.  Then they attend the Protestant service and that child returns the favor, until the moment the pastor steps into the pulpit.  The pastor removes his watch and lays it on the lectern beside the microphone.  "What does that mean?"  and the Protestant child says, "Not a blessed thing.")  See I'm back enjoying a Southern Fellowship, and in my mind that gives me permission to crack a few insider's jokes. 

When I read the question on Kris' site yesterday, my mind went immediately to the nature of salvation and the location of heaven.  My little nephew asked me the other day how far out into space you have to go to find heaven.  It's a reasonable question for a 6 year old to be pondering.  I'm not sure he picked the right relative to ask ... Anyway, I find that we start off with that kind of literal thinking and we hold on to it a lot tighter than we realize, clinging to the idea of a physical/temporal location of a physical heaven even after we try to grasp the concept of a super-physical God.

When I was a child I had a certain understanding of the Christian doctrine of salvation, that if we were good kids, and loved God some day we'd be going to a really cool place that was a cross between Disney World and study hall.  I pictured heaven as a sort of cosmic amusement park where we had to tiptoe around being good so we could earn wings and go on the big rides.  Tucker says that heaven is a place where God sleeps in a cloud bed and angels fly around.  Compared to God the angels aren't big, he says, compared to God the angels look like fairies. 

When I came back to salvation as an adult, my mind couldn't accept the childish metaphors that worked for me when I was seven, and rightly so.  I'm capable of understanding that heaven isn't a construct of time or space.  I came to salvation with a void - a nothingness in the place where my vision of heaven used to be.  I didn't come to salvation because of the promise of pie in the sky, I came inspite of my intellectual conviction that it didn't exist.  I came to salvation not because of any promise for my future but because I came to an understanding of the reality of God that demanded a response in the here and now. 

Salvation isn't something that happens to me when I die if I stay the course and perform the proper steps in the proper order.  There is value in spiritual discipline, just like there's value in eating food to stay alive.  But life isn't found in food and spiritual life isn't in religious exercises or future rewards.  My reward and my life is right now.  The salvation I experience isn't some privileged position from which I can point to someone else and say "You don't have it."  Salvation is being related to God.  Right here, and right now.  Salvation makes a heavy demand on me, I am called to live my life as nearly aligned with my understanding of the command to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength and love my neighbor as myself as I possibly can.  The reward of Salvation is that when I fail (and I do that on a daily, sometimes hourly basis) the Grace of God keeps me in relationship with the Infinite not because of me, but in spite of me. 

I've had almost 20 years to develop my understanding of heaven and I'm not sure I grasp it yet.  I fall back on the childish metaphor more often than not, leaning toward a literal vision.  What's the best part of heaven?  Well, since I have a more grown-up imagination, I'm led to an idea posed by questioner to C S Lewis - Is there sex in heaven?  He said that question was like the small child trying to understand why grown-ups were all enthused about sex and asking, "Is it something you do with chocolates?" because chocolates are the richest pleasure the child knows.  And leaving aside the picture of chocolate sex, I love that way of approaching the question of heaven.  It is simply outside any possible frame of reference I possess. 

When I consider heaven it is a vast nothingness, not because nothing is there, but because my mind is inadequate to imagine it. 

The question posed on Kris' site was about what happens after death.  I don't know what happens at that point, I have an idea.  Of course, I believe I can support my idea based on a careful reading of scripture, but this isn't the place for complicated exegesis, so I'll just tell you what I think.  I think that when we die we do enter into nothingness.  I think that at the moment of my death, my existence is extinguished.  And I believe that my existence remains extinguished until God calls me back into being.  I believe that God will call me back into being, but it doesn't make any difference to the reality of my life here and now.  I don't believe that the physical atoms that make up my present body are necessary for the make-up of a future body.  When I consider the fact that matter is neither created nor destroyed, it makes no sense to think that my body must in some way be preserved in order for me to be preserved.  The matter that forms my body has been here since the creation of the cosmos, and it will have other life after I'm done borrowing it for my clothing. 

I believe that there is a resurrection in the future, and I have a lot of reasons for believing that.  I don't believe that resurrection means reanimation.  I believe that it's more like a re-creation. God holds all of me in His hand.  He doesn't need to scrounge around and find these clothes to pour me back into.  In fact, one of the most beautiful metaphors of heaven is that God will give us new "clothes" - clean white robes.  I believe that being demands some kind of corporeality simply because otherwise there is no individual.  If my existence has no boundary I'm not me.  The very concept of a self, *I*, demands the limit of a body of some sort to contain *me.*

I like to deal in knowns.  God is the great unknown - not because He isn't knowable, but because He is infinitely knowable and I'm a finite creature.  Rather than spend a lot of time on speculation about that which I cannot know apart from revelation, I'd rather focus on what I can know.  The here and now. 

Happy Xanga-Versary to me.  (I almost forgot)

The Price is Right *

Well, in my car shopping, I have found one that I feel is a strong possibility, but my parents think is a bad decision.  It's not ideal, very few of the choices I've ever made deal with ideal circumstances.  I look around for the best information I can find and then I make the best decision I can based on that information.  I'm working with constraints my parents aren't used to.  Absolutely NO car payment can result from this transaction.  I have a personal and moral conviction against debt that is getting deeper with each year that passes.  (And especially as the past six months have ticked by.) 

My financial situation isn't grim, but it is precarious.  You may recall that along with the divorce proceedings, we filed bankruptcy.  And at this time, I'm working a part time job that I have only been at for two weeks and I expect to leave in less than a month.  So even if it weren't for my convictions about debt, I simply cannot have a carpayment.  I have to pay cash. 

The amount of cash I'm shopping with is what most people consider to be a reasonable downpayment on a car.  (Of course, I think that spending what most people spend on a car would push me over the edge of insanity.  I can't see pouring thousands into something that's going to be worth nothing in a matter of a few years.  Maybe I just slept through that class in my financial management course, but all on my own analysis, I think it looks like a bad use of a very limited resource.) 

Now, I don't have to find something today, but I do have a time limit.  I'm leaving here on July 11.  That's less than a month to get everything organized and get on the road, so I do feel a bit of pressure to find something quickly. 

And it needs to be the most reliable vehicle I can get for the money I have to work with.

So far, looking at ads in the paper, visiting car lots, calling a friend of a friend - I keep getting "well, if you just had a couple thousand more dollars we could put you in a really decent little ..."  I don't have a couple thousand more dollars.  That's just a waste of my time to go there and it irritates me.  I know I don't play the negotiation game right, because I don't want to wheel and deal and try to sucker the guy into lowering the price to below what the car is worth.  I want to get a car.

Like I said, I found one yesterday, that I'm pretty comfortable with, but there are some serious drawbacks to it and my parents aren't completely out on a limb to express concerns.  I found a man who buys cars like the Focus, that have been totaled in a collision and rebuilds them for sale.  Stamping "Total" on the title of a vehicle reduces the value of that restored car to half it's blue book listing even if it is restored to pristine condition. 

I'm not really worried about driving a car that has been repaired.  We had an incident 3 1/2 years ago when Tim hit a deer.  Our van should have been totaled in that accident.  It was several years old, had 90,000 miles on it already and the repair cost over 14k.  But the insurance company was in charge and they decided to fix it.  Tim is still driving that van and it's in reasonable shape considering the additional 70k miles we've put on it since the accident.  We've had no more or less than expected maintenance issues to deal with.

There are two different cars I looked at that are almost equally acceptable to me.  One is a Chevy Cavalier, 2002 with 19,000 miles.  It was in a front-end collision and the damage to it was the more extensive of the two.  There are several places when I look around and under the hood that I can see welding.  The most serious concern I have is that when the car was wrecked the radiator was burst and has had to be replaced, the battery exploded and sprayed acid across the engine, and I'm just not sure what additional engine damage may have been repaired or is still undetected. 

The second car is the 2002 Pontiac version of the Cavalier.  It has 27,000 miles on it.  This wreck was more like what happened with the Focus.  All the damage was to the body.  It was a driver who lost control and spun around.  Rear quarter panel and bumper etc had to be replaced along with the front bumper. 

I didn't drive the Cavalier, I tested the Sunfire and it handled well.  When I drove it on straight stretches, I took my hands off the wheel to see about the balance and it performed very well.  With my hands loosely on the wheel, I braked from 70 mph to 0.  It braked without pulling even slightly to either side and came to a smooth stop.  The acceleration was good.  I picked a fairly twisty highway outside Cabot and it hugged the curves nicely.  It has new tires. 

Like I said in the opening, the price is right.  I could write a check for the car and cover the tags, title, and taxes from the insurance settlement (when it comes in - we've settled but I don't know exactly when I'll be getting the money.)  I explained this to the man and he told me that he'll hold the car until Friday without a deposit, after that, I'd have to put something down to hold it until my money comes in.  

Or I could keep looking.  Have any of you had experience that would suggest that there are considerations I've overlooked? 

Coming Home Again

You know the old cliche that you "can't go home again?"  I moved out of my parent's home when I left for college and I've never moved back.  Even now, I was very clear with myself, the parents, everyone involved that I haven't moved back, this is just a visit.  People grow and change so much that the home you remembered, doesn't exist anymore from the moment you leave it.  Maybe it's even the sound of the car trunk closing over the top of your luggage that bursts the bubble you've been encapsulated by.  Something happens in the moment of leaving that alters the reality of the relationships that have been "home."

So yesterday, I attended worship with my parents.  It isn't the first time I've been back to the church I grew up in.  Over the years, I've visited often.  Almost everyone from my generation is gone now, that seems to be the way it goes in small southern towns.  We grow up here and then like the children in Charlotte's Web only a tiny remnant stay while the rest float away on the breeze.  But when I walk into that place it echoes with memories of Youth functions, the music we sang, and the laughter of people I haven't seen in twenty years. 

Yesterday morning we arrived early enough for Bible study.  Let me clarify, Bible study begins at 9:45.  When my parents parked their van in the lot at 8:59, it was one of only three cars there.  They believe it's just wrong to wait until the last minute ...   We were there early enough to make the coffee for the people who came early for visitin' before "church" started. 

I knew from the phone calls that I've answered over the past week, that my Mom had mentioned my circumstances to her Bible study class, to the pastor, to the music minister (she really wants me to sing one Sunday while I'm here), to the two people left in the church who were part of my youth group ... Mom is an effective communicator.  I learned a long time ago that anything I wanted to keep private had to first and foremost be private from Mom.  She never "gossips", she just asks everyone she knows to put me on their prayer list and gives them all the juiciest details.  So I anticipated that attending church would be walking into a group of people who knew far more about my life than I'm really comfortable having on public display.  Does that seem strange?  I mean I write about my life on the Internet where God and everybody could read it anytime they want.  I don't know why it's different having my Mom broadcast the story, but it is. 

When I walked in, the first person I saw was a woman I didn't know.  She was beginning the standard greeting and offer to help the visitor find her way around when Alice came through the door.  Alice knows me.  The last official function I held in this church was to be a discipleship leader with the youth department and her daughter was in the class I taught.  With Alice in the age group that puts her squarely between me and Mom, at times in my life she has been motherly to me, and at other times, we've giggled together over silly things that the kids were doing, feeling all the amused indulgence adults can muster over the antics of those still trying their wings.  When I was going through the pain of loss during the time that I was trying to conceive and carry children, Alice faithfully wrote me cards and letters.  She sent me encouragement and held my hand long distance through both my miscarriages.  When I got so sick with eclampsia during my first pregnancy, there were weeks that I received four or five cards during those last months that I was on complete bedrest before Michael was born.  If Michael's health can be attributed to the prayers of anyone, it would have to be Alice's because she fervently prayed for us. 

The morning was filled with moments of hugs and reconnecting with people I grew up with.  I'm not talking much here about the reason that you would go to church to start with.  To worship.  Can I make a confession?  I didn't really expect to feel at home in the service.  The theology of this church is one that I've explored and largely left behind.  I don't completely reject their position, I am a Christian after all.  But over time my understanding and relationship to God has become so different from what this church teaches that it's difficult for me to relate to the sermons, to the lessons.   It's easy for me to slip into judgmental mode if I'm not careful.  There's nothing like being the outsider to reveal all the discrepancies between what people say and what they do.  I have learned a grace that gives me an appreciation for my weaknesses and compassion for those of others.  But I no longer subscribe to much of their theology. 

So that was my heart yesterday morning when I entered the sanctuary for worship. 

Then a woman picked up the microphone and sang, "We are standing on holy ground ..."

and without expecting it, without preparation for it, without any understanding of it, suddenly I was - standing on holy ground.  I had tears on my face.  I want you to understand something that has been seriously disturbing me.  I haven't cried since I left Indiana.  I've been dealing with pain from the injury I received in the accident, I've been busy with housework, I've been doing childcare, I've been talking with the insurance company, I've been going to work - until yesterday, I haven't cried for the pain in my heart.

I've been spending time in prayer, I haven't left behind the spiritual disciplines that I've practiced for so long.  But I have been numb.  Yesterday, I found my way home.

Vehicular Homicide (Or ... Does Anyone Know Where I Can Buy a Used Tank ... Cheap?)

Remember how it was that after the big storm on May 29 I was driving home and the tree fell across the road and then there was this van that rear-ended me?  The appraiser for the Insurance Company of the other driver made it out to see my car.  And - he says that it's totaled.  Okaaaaaaaaay.  In January, my car was a Ford Windstar mini-van.  After the divorce negotiation, my car was a Mercury Sable.  The Sable had a meltdown on the Interstate in Maryland.  Then I got a Ford Focus.  I've had the Ford Focus SIX weeks, and it's totaled.  I'm six months into the year and I'm looking to own my fourth vehicle. 

I noticed something as I was typing up the list of vehicles ... they were all in the Ford family.  Maybe, this is a part of my problem?  Maybe Fords and I should not be joined in holey drivemony?

The job at Waldenbooks is going well.  I like it, I get to putter around a bookstore and talk to the people who wander in about the books they want to read.  What's not to like?  My birthday is next Friday, so when I was being taught about the computer system and the ordering processes, I picked out a book I wanted to have and I'm giving it to myself with my handy dandy employee discount.  It will be HARD to resist spending unreasonable amounts of money on books while I'm there.  But I'm determined to try.  (Plus, I'm shopping for a CAR all over again!)  Ay yi yi!

I'm staying busy (See the previous blog where I compare my mother to the Angel of Death).  I knew when I came here that she had a list of things that she wanted me to "help" her do over the course of my six week stay.  I'm mostly through that list now.  And I'm beginning to feel a little tired.  My brother is supposed to get here in the next half hour and he's going to help me move and set up two bedrooms.  After that, the single remaining chore on the list is "wash the windows inside and out".

While I'm doing the Spring Cleaning, I also have the charge of four boys, and I'm taking care of the daily housekeeping and cooking chores.  There are only five people actually living in the house, but I have found that more often than not I'm cooking for ten.  My sister's family finds it convenient to dine here because they have such a narrow window between the time the parents get off work and they have to be back to the park for baseball games.  My brother is here about 4 out of 7 nights because that's more convenient than driving the hour and a half back to his house after his classes (summer school to get that Master's in Education).  No problem, I have the whole hee haw gang eating lo-carb menus from the South Beach Diet. 

Yesterday, Cheryl and I took the kids to the water park for the afternoon.  I used sunscreen, but I wore a different suit that exposed very white skin and now I have some bright red stripes where those tan lines used to be.  After I baked (and napped) beside the pool, I offered to buy the kids an ice cream cone on the way home.  My nephew, Jared, looked a little worried about this, "Aunt Terri, do you think if I get an ice cream cone, it could have ice cream in it?"

I'm really enjoying the Water Park.  There is an amusement park attached to it with roller coasters and the whole nine yards, summer concert series with a different group in every Saturday night.  Leeanne Rimes was there last week, I don't remember who's on the slate this week.  The one I'm the most interested in is next weekend when Rebecca St. James will perform.  I'm thinking that would be a great way to celebrate my birthday. 

We've been to the park often enough now that the kids are getting familiar with the facility and I've been able to relax my guard a bit.  I find a comfortable chair in a central location where I have a full view of the pool that the smaller kids like best.  Then I just more or less snooze while they play.  There are life guards stationed every six feet around the edges of the pool and they have yet to let a parent beat them to a kid in trouble.  In fact there's one lifeguard I'm particularly impressed with.  I've already seen her rescue three little ones who wanted to try the walk across the lilypads even though that pool is pretty deep and they can't swim. 

Tucker is finally tall enough to play on the big water slides and he's loving it.  For the kids who want to do that, my rule is that they have to come and check in with me between each trip down so if I haven't seen one in about 15 minutes, I know to go looking.  (But they also know that if they "forget" they are grounded to the kiddie pool, so I haven't had to hunt one down yet.)  Aaaaaah, life is good. 

Now I just need to find that used tank and all will be perfect.

In the Bosom of Family -

All families are weird in their own way.  Some families are quiet, some are not.  Some families are organized, some are not.  Some families are wealthy some are not.  But all families are weird.  Mine is especially weird. 

My Mom totally rules.  And I don't mean as in, hey, dude, that Granny lady rules.  I mean she rules in that she makes decisions that are then carried out by unsuspecting people for three counties around.  Today, Mom is at the hospital doing visitation duty.  My Aunt's sister has been admitted for some testing and you'd think the circus has come to town the way the extended family got up for the drive to Little Rock to offer their support.  The poor woman probably has no fewer than 10 people who are either in her room, or chattering like magpies in the waiting area while her internal organs are being photographed and displayed on the overhead projector so people like my Mom can say, "Well, it doesn't look nearly as bad as when Aunt Yaddie had that same kind of pain ..."  (Yes, I did have an Aunt Yaddie, she died.) 

There are a lot of people in this family that I have no idea what their real first names are.  I also had an Uncle Bud, Uncle Puss, Aunt Sugar, Cousin Bugsy (a woman), Cousin Honey, and an Cousin in Law called Tootsie who was married to my cousin Hazel.  (Tootsie died too.  Then poor Cousin Hazel had that unfortunate incident when the gentleman she was seeing but they were just friends, died while he was in bed with her, which was kind of embarassing because she had sworn his car was only there overnight because he fell asleep during the Tonight Show.  Now she can't get anyone to come over and watch tv with her.) 

I got a phone call earlier from my older Cousin across the street, her name is Arkie and she lives with her now retired daughter Dink and Dink's husband Hamp.  Anyway, Hamp's been gardening and she wanted me to come across and get a mess of new potatoes.  Okay, I can do this.  Potatoes are not on the diet, but I learned a LONG time ago that when the family calls and says come and get a mess of whatever, you go get it.  Hamp also raises horses.  You know, I really need to take some pictures of this place so you guys will have an idea of what it's like here.  It's nothing like living in a city (see the aboce mentioned horses), and not much like living in the country either come to think of it (way too many people around for it to feel rural.)  It's not like any suburb I've ever inhabited ... I just don't really quite know how to describe it.  It's life in Malvern, Arkansas.     

I'm kind of distracted from my point, and I think I had one.  It all started with Mom leaving with my Aunt - oh did I tell you her name?  It's Dorita - seriously.  I have an Aunt named for a snack food.  We mostly call her Dorie though.  So Mom is leaving and the phone is ringing and because Mom isn't here to talk with them I'm getting the pleasure of conversation with all the extended family network.  I swear, MCI should be glad they all live here together because there's no way the company could survive giving this crowd a Friends and Family discount.  My Aunt Pat is offended because my cousin Paula is offended because all Aunt Pat said was "Everytime your baby looks at Carlon, he cries and cries and won't shut up."  Aunt Pat knows that Paula was offended because it's Pat's turn to babysit the baby, and Paula didn't bring him.  While she was on the phone with me, Aunt Pat made dire predictions about the apocalypse and then ended with telling me details of this dream she had in which I married someone.  She says, I don't know what kind of human you're gonna marry, but I dreamed that he ain't from around here, and you need to just slow down and think about this. 

I'm thinking that she needs to go back to bed.  I've been divorced less than two months.  Maybe the dream signals got crossed (I suggested it to her that she should check in with Kristin (my younger single college aged cousin) I sort of suggested to Aunt Pat that Kristin was considering a friendship with someone of another race - a dreaded Texan - by the time the smoke clears from that one, I should be well on my way to Colorado.)    Hey, I kind of owed Kristin one, from two years ago.  Yes, I can hold a grudge that long. 

So we were talking yesterday about the number of steps I take in a day and I was saying that I average about 12,000.  I just checked and for me to walk from my computer desk to the other side of the house (Dad's office) and back it's 98 steps.  I'm sure I make that trip at least ten times a morning.  Then from the laundry room to the bedrooms is about 43 steps and I had seven loads of laundry today.  This is a four bedroom, three bathroom, two dining room, house and it's vacuuming day, so there are a lot of steps involved in that.  The "garage" behind the house is a part pavilion, part pole barn structure that's about half a standard city block away, so anytime I need to go out there, it's like parking on the back side of Walmart to get your exercise.  (Mom has a golfcart she drives back and forth between the house and her car.)

And I was talking about how my Mom rules.  The steps and my Mom's rule are related.  See, if I want to maintain some sense of autonomy, I've figured out that my best chance is to choose to be busy doing something at all times so that when Mom comes looking for a victim, she'll pass me by.  It's kind of the Southern Ya-Ya Woman equivalent to smearing lamb's blood on the lintel so the angel of death won't stop.  And it works - or at least it's a work out. 

Wanna see the kids?  They are all in the living room now playing Playstation Dukes of Hazard.  (No, I couldn't make this up if I tried.)  Tucker's been telling me, "MOM, there's this really cool car called the 'Generally' ..."

Tucker sitting on the coffee table (where he isn't supposed to be), Jordan with the controller (he was supposed to have handed it off to one of the others because he's already had an hour and a half turn), Michael sitting too close to the television, and Jared lying back in the armchair the say his Aamaw tells him a dozen times a day not to sit on the furniture.

Happy Stepping

How much do you get up and move around during the day?  Have you thought about that?  Ever wondered whether you were more or less active than the average person?  McDonald's has started offering something that will help you figure it out in the "Adult Happy Meal." 

You may remember that only a few weeks ago I was right here on this spot cursing the man/woman/yam who came up with the idea of the Happy Meal toy.  Kids are suckered into begging for the Happy Meal in order to have the rather lame toy.  These toys accumulate and an alarming rate until all of a sudden one day Mom realizes that there are bags and bags of these toys hiding in every crevice of the child's room.

Well, one of the McDonal's people must have seen that blog and decided that honor demanded a suitable revenge for my unleashing venom upon them.  They have introduced the Adult Happy Meal.  This meal includes a salad, bottled water, and a toy.  The toy at this time is a pedometer.  Oh, it's a crafty ploy.  I've seen pedometer's before, even considered buying one and decided it was a gimmicky gadget that I could do without.  Sharper Image offers two pedometers on their online catalog, one that talks to you and one that won't shut up.  The Discovery Channel store has one that will track your heartrate.  And if you go to Pedometersusa.com you can find dozens of models you can get with special volume discounts.  For example the Sportline monitor is available at the special rate of $7,650 if you buy 1,000.  Someone should tell Walmart about this because they are selling the same model down the street from me at the rate of $8.49.  I'm pretty sure that Walmart bought more than a 1,000 of these babies and so if they want to really impress me with their falling prices, I think they should at least match the price I could get online.  Not that I'm going to buy a 1,000, I don't have quite that many friends to start with and I sure the number would dwindle if I implied to them all that they needed a work-out program. 

So by now you've guessed that on the trip from Indiana to Arkansas I plunked down my $4.99 for the Adult Happy Meal.  I clipped my pedometer to my waistband and started walking.  The thing is just about addictive.  I would check that little box a dozen times a day measuring myself against the little information sheet that recommended that for healthy adults walking approximately 5 miles or 2,000 steps a day was the goal. 

I was expecting to have to slip a work-out into my day in oder to meet that goal, but for the first two days, I made it to 10,000 steps just after suppertime.  On the third day, I made it to 4,258 steps and the thing quit counting.  I mean it just stopped.  It blinked happily, but it wouldn't count another step.  Oh, well, it was a HAPPY MEAL TOY, what did I expect, right? 

I lived without it for three days.  But now, I'm hooked.  I'm wondering all day long whether I'm an active adult, or a sedentary adult.  What if I only walked that much because the counter was counting and now that I have no counter to impress, I'm slacking off?  Last night I went to Walmart.  In addition to the aforementioned Sportline monitor for $8.49, they had another one approximately equivalent to the one in the Happy Meal for $4.49. 

Whether it's because the monitor is monitoring or it's because I'm an active person anyway, I'm well on my way to hitting my stride at about 12,000 steps a day.  Has anyone else tried this pedometer?  Did you like it?  Did you use it?  How did it work for you if you were trying to increase your fitness level, were you able to see improvement?  Any suggestions?

Happy Friday -

Have I mentioned that I LOVE Fridays?  The weekend is upon us, I can sense energy  in the air.  Friday is a GOOD day.  I've been busy today.  Cleaning, vacumming, cooking, and its not quite 10:00.  I start my part time job this afternoon.  But I'll get to that later. 

Things are a bit chaotic at my parent's house.  My sister has been living here and she is moving out as we are moving in.  My folks have room for a lot of people.  This is a huge house.  But with some beds torn-down and as many as 10 people here to sleep on any given night, it's been not only interesting but crowded.  I think the worst night for me was when I slept on the love seat.  (crunch!)  I didn't intend to sleep there, but that's where I crashed so someone covered me up.  Since then, I've made certain that I don't crash anywhere I don't want to spend the night. 

When everything is said and done, my "room" will be a three room suite.  I have a bedroom, bath, sitting room and a private entrance with a huge deck.  Life could be much worse.  This week has been crazy! 

Want to hear about it?

Let me Sum up ...

yes this is one of those stories that's just TOO long to tell "long version" style so here are the important points

Thursday - Storm hit Salem, knocked out our power, took boys into town for dinner, second storm hit, river flooded, tree fell across road in front of us, while we were stopped at the fallen tree we were rear-ended by a van.  Damage to car (rear bumper and rear passenger side panels), no damage to kids, I have a whiplash injury to my lower back.  The phones are down, the cell phone towers are down ...

Friday - Insurance insists that I go to ER to have x-rays.  The doctor confirms its a whiplash injury.  Tells me to take ibuprofen and not to lift anything over ten pounds ... yeah right - I have to MOVE this weekend.

Saturday - Tim and I work without stopping all day moving the last stuff into storage and gettign ready for my parents and brother to arrive.  Plans have changed so instead of leaving Sunday night, we are leaving tonight.  The folks arrive later than expected but we were ready.  Mom and I dig up lilies, gladiolas and daylilies to bring to her house.  We leave at 9 PM planning to stop on the road.  The first place we ask about a room is Marengo-Leavenworth.  They have no vacancies, neither does anyone else until we gotto Evansville.

Sunday - Listening to the radio we learn that Marengo has been hit by a tornado.  Several people are confirmed dead.  We are all mourning with them and mindful of how we would have been there if there had been a vacancy.  The trip to Arkansas takes much longer than it normally would.  I'm in a lot of pain with my back and I ask for rest stops often so I can walk around.  We arrive in Malvern at 7 PM.

Tuesday - I have an interview with the Manager at Waldenbooks in Hot Springs.  He hires me part-time for the summer. 

Okay, think about that for just a minute - me - working - in Waldenbooks. 

Thursday - My back isn't hurting anymore, so I think I've recovered from my injury last week.  I decide that I'll take the kids to the Water Park at Magic Springs.  YES!  I spent my afternoon floating happily around the Lazy River.  Life is good. 

I'll be at work this afternoon.  You guys think about me and grin at the thought.  They are turning me loose in a BOOK STORE!!!