Enough Already

Between last night on Larry King and all the stories about Dana Reeve dying of lung cancer (how tragic and just plain bizarre is that?) to tonight on the same show, talking about David Bloom, who died of Deep Vein Thrombosis way too young, they are making my hypochondriachal tendencies go absolutely beserk, not to mention how depressing it is. I am all for awareness but my word.....

I think we need a Good Times or Saturday Nite Live marathon.

Misheard Song Lyrics

Listening to the XM Radio this morning to my favorite channel, The 70's Channel and invariably, I find myself giggling hearing songs that I used to hear on the radio as a kid and I STILL subconsciously sing the words like I thought they were when I was 10. For example...Olivia Newton John's "A Little More Love"...I still want to sing "A little more love makes you constipated" instead of "Will a little more love make you start depending" and everybody's favorite "Blinded By The Light"...revved up like a douche, another........in the night" Never knew that the correct words were "Revved up like a deuce another runner in the night" until I was nearly 30 years old.

I want to hear some other misheard lyrics...I know there are websites but I want to hear "real" people's.

He's a One Boy Cuddly Toy, My Up, My Down, My Pride and Joy.

We all know about Andy & Opie, Mike, Greg, Peter & Bobby; George H.W. and George W; Bill Bixby and that little freckled kid; In a world where there's so much hatred and estrangement in families, I tell ya, this story about Nashville's own favorite Fabulous Father/Son Duo is what families are all about! It brings a tear to my eye and just fills my heart with so much....There is love and light in this mean old, hateful world.

I can't help but hear strains of "The Courtship of Eddie's Father" theme in the story of Artie and his boy and best pal, Perry and just thinking of all the swell, fun things they've done together...fishing, camping, murder, skipping town....oh, it's too much.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made? Me?

I am a Bible thumpin' Christian. I love the Bible. I love to study it and love how the Old and New Testaments parallel each other and how the Old Testament talks about Jesus, down to his birth and death. I love the times when I'm dealing with something and God will direct me to somewhere specific in the Word and my question is answered. Those are the best times. I've had some wonderful moments studying the Word over the last 10-12 years and spiritually, have seen myself grow up, although I'm not "there" yet. We'll never be "there" until it's all said and done.

People like Beth Moore, Kay Arthur, Neil Anderson and my own personal spiritual mentor, Debbie Williams, have been used in my life to light a fire to desire to know God and what His will is for me.

Being I'm a born-again, Bible believing Christian does not make me a perfect person. I have my own besetting sins that I fight daily. One of those is my own unbelief. I believe every word God says to us in the Bible is true, but my heart has trouble with some of the ones that talk about me.

A verse I have taped to my computer screen says "For it was You who created my inward parts; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I will praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139 13-14

Why is it that I have such a problem believing I am really and truly fearfully and wonderfully made? All these years, since I was a little bitty girl, I've fought feelings of inferiority. I've always compared myself to everybody else and although I've gotten better as the years have gone by, I'm like a stubborn kid and argue with God when He says I'm wonderfully made, it's like I'm saying "Am not!" and He's saying "Are too!" It's an insane argument.

I've got it taped there on the computer screen, prayerfully hoping that I can believe that this week.

The Taste of Love Is Sweet

An 18 year old SistaSmiff and June Carter Cash-CMA Awards 1987


I've been here before, but have to come here again.....I'm glad for Reese and I'm glad the name June Carter is out there and people will remember her more for this, but people, please understand me...Reese did not become June Carter. She thanked somebody in her acceptance speech for helping her "create" this character...thats exactly what she did. Ya'll who never saw June except in photos, trust me on this one. She was so animated and such a wonderful character. There was one part in WTL where Reese seemed to be trying to bring some of June's character, in the scene in the beginning where she and Johnny "meet".

Phillip Seymour Hoffman became Truman Capote....Jamie Foxx became Ray Charles....Sissy Spacek became Loretta....I'm just not getting this. I don't know why this bugs the far' outta me (as June would say) but it does.

All the same...yay for Reese. She seems like good people, but I ain't budgin' on this one. I would lay money down that she never has attended a Grand Ole Opry performance.

Just cause your cat has kittens in the oven doesn't make them biscuits.

Attention Mayberryites

Looks like i won't be getting much done this weekend. TVLand is running an Andy Griffith marathon in honor of Don Knotts. At this point, they're showing the early ones and I just caught sight of the fabulous Roland White who is a mandolinist extraordinare, longtime Nashvillian and all around swell guy. He was in the bluegrass group called the Country Boys that preceded the Darlings.

CNN will be repeating the Larry King Show from the other night that featured Andy, Jim Nabors, Ron Howard, Joyce Dewitt and Don's daughter, Karen Knotts on Sunday evening.

TGIF

Most people get really pumped when Friday rolls around. I have come to realize that anymore, it's the thought of Friday and the weekend that's exciting. It's not like I get any real rest anyway. I haven't had an exciting weekend in years. Wait...did I EVER have an exciting weekend? Every Monday, when someone will inevitably ask if I had an exciting weekend, I will answer with my usual "No, but someday I will and I will be sure to tell you about it."

I am in bed earlier on Friday nights than I am any other night of the week. I guess after the busy week, mentally, something shuts off and I'm out by 9:00. I don't even make it to 20/20.

Nine Fridays out of ten, Mr. Smiff is away so that means Friday mornings I have to corral #2 Son and get him to before school care BEFORE his pill melts. He's always in a good mood but as I mentioned, he has a pill to take so before the old Concerta does its thang, I have a loud, wild hyper boy on my hands who wants to watch Ed, Edd and Eddy or go out to the trampoline or something other than get ready for school. (No joke...he was on the trampoline at 6 a.m. Wednesday morning. It's twisted, I know).

Probably a good idea I'm not out on Fridays. My mother has been telling me since I was 16 years old to be careful because "All the drunks are out on Friday nights." As if they aren't out any other night or day of the week. All the drunks in town have an appointment to be out on Friday nights.

That's about as logical as the time my sister and I were making a weekend trip to Atlanta. Mom warned us to watch out for the drunks AND to watch out for the Lesbians. According to my 70 something year old mother, who never leaves her house except for work and to buy cigarettes, Atlanta is crawling with lesbians and they are out looking for me!!!! We still wonder where that one came from. ???

I guess the real danger out there would be drunk lesbians. Yay for them. At least they're able to stay up past 9:00 on a Friday evening.

Hear My Song, Lord

Last Wednesday, Anthony Burger died suddenly of an apparent heart attack. If you don't know who Anthony Burger was, he was an amazing pianist, with an amazing testimony, who has been apart of Bill Gaither's videos and tours for many years.

Now, if you're thinking Anthony must've been an older guy...he wasn't. He was 44 years old and had no history of heart problems and appeared to be in good health. You see some people who look like heart attacks...Anthony didn't.

The Gaither Bunch was aboard a cruise ship in the Caribbean when Anthony died. Anthony was in the middle of a song, in front of an audience when his time came. The story is quite chilling and is told in detail by Tori Taff, the wife of Russ Taff, on Mark Lowry's website here.

The First Cut Is The Deepest

I'm sitting in a little meeting today with a brand new "Misses Ha-Wiggins Pad" (translated....a legal pad. Me and the old boss started calling them that. HA...so funny) Sitting there trying to be interested and I moved my hand along the side of the thing and got the most perfect, pristine and friggin painful papercut. It hurt so bad, I wanted to scream.

How is it something so small can hurt so dang bad?! And then proceed to bleed like there is no tomorrow???

Da Bachelor

I'm glad Travis picked Sarah.

I think MOAN-a summed up why ol Trav' didn't pick her....nice guys like that don't marry girls like her.

I wondered the whole time what this "connection" they both kept claiming was. Moanin' Moana is a lovely girl. She is no Sista Smiff, but, then who is??? I think the connection was a connection in the literal sense. If'n ya know what I mean. :wink wink:

A Streptococcus Among Us?

After last week's nightmare visit to TENNESSEE URGENT CARE (remember, do not go there) I finally got the Princess into a REAL doctor's office. Our new doctor is out Hendersonville Hospital so Friday afternoon the Princess and I went to the new place.

Friday night, the Middle School had a dance and it started at 6 and our appt. was at 4:45 so there was some panic on the Princesses part of whether she'd make it right at 6. (God forbid she be two minutes late) So she was dolled up, all ready for the dance when I took her for her appt. We musta looked ridiculous going in with her and her makeup (don't get me started on that) and she had used the hair crimper. Of course, she felt just dandy and I'm wondering if the Nurse Practitioner lady even believed she had been feeling bad and hackin' up a lung all week.

I had a hoot of a good time filling out the new patient paperwork and asking the Princess if she had had blood in her stools? Anal itching..things of that nature. Sometimes I amuse myself so.

Now #2 Son has what I suspect is Strep. I can't even remember how I figured out he might be sickly and what made me decide to feel his glands. Funny, how moms just know when their kids are sick. His throat feels like he has golf balls in it. No fever and he's happy as a lark, as usual. He had strep twice in the fall.

The sickest I have ever been was 5 years ago when I had strep. I'd never had it before and my gosh....who could think a throat could hurt that bad??? I remember when my doctor asked if I wanted a pain killer, I wanted to kiss him. It felt like somebody had struck a match and was just holding it inside my throat. It weren't fun.

Darren McGavin-RIP

Geez....a bad weekend for losing legends and memorable characters.

Darren McGavin worked steadily in Hollywood for over 50 years but I guess he'll be forever carved into everybody's memories as the Dad in "A Christmas Story," fighting the !@#$%&* furnace, the Bumpusses dogs and the Leg Lamp...."Frajeeeelay."

Don Knotts RIP

Just signed on to the computer and saw that everybody's favorite deputy and everybody's favorite landlord, Don Knotts aka Barney Fife/Ralph Furley has died. Yes, he was 81 years old and had lived a long and frutiful life, but somehow, the world without Don Knotts is kinda hard to imagine.

I grew to love the Andy Griffith Show through Mr. Smiff. I'd watched it since I was a kid but he turned me on to the show, the brilliance of the writing and characters and since we've been married, nigh coming on 17 years, it's been part of just about the only routine, organized happening at our house, to watch Andy before we go to sleep.

I came to appreciate that Don Knotts was more than just Barney Fife through my love of classic television and seeing old Steve Allen shows. I love the "Man on the Street" and the little nervous guy character he did. He was brilliant.

I actually got to see Don Knotts, not too long ago in the summer of 2004. The Mayberry Crew was appearing at one of their festivals and they were at the Grand Ole Opry. Mr. Smiff was still playing with Mike Snider and they were playing that night and it just so happened some relatives of mine were in from California and Hawaii and they wanted to see the Opry. I didn't even know Don Knotts was going to be there until I got there.

Mr. Smiff was on an earlier spot and really wanted to see Don Knotts up close. He rarely gets excited or starstruck about celebrities he runs into, in fact, the only time I've ever heard him comment about being impressed with famous people he's seen at the Opry all the years he played out there just about every week (beginning in 1979) was Nolan Ryan and Andy Griffith.

He was told the Mayberry Gang would be there for the second show, so Mr. Smiff went ahead and left for a bite to eat. Because a couple of them were in somewhat frail shape (Howard Morris aka Ernest T. Bass was there and in obvious bad health) they only did the one spot. Mr. Smiff got back and found out the Mayberry Bunch was already gone, he was devastated. He did see Doug Dillard but he's been a friend and compadre for many years so, nothing against Doug, but....

Me and the Princess got to see Don Knotts, though. She was so excited when she realized that Don Knotts was Mr. Furley. I told her to take it in because someday she would be able to tell her children she saw Don Knotts in person.

A Prayer Request

BusyMom's post today about mishead words made me think of something pretty amusing.

My dad was quite funny. Somtimes he meant to be and other times he didn't mean to be funny. One time at Wednesday night prayer meeting at church during Prayer Request Time, he meant to be serious when he requested prayer for a medical test he was going to be having. What he MEANT to say was that he was going to be having his uvula biopsied. Instead, he asked the Prayer Warriors who had gathered, to pray for him, as he was going to be having his vulva biopsied.

Yes, he did.

After the service, Jesse Frank (who is in Heaven now and probably still not over this one) took Dad aside and mentioned to him that he did not posess a vulva because he was a male.

Another funny public prayer request was made by my cousin in lawwhen she was a little girl, asked a similar Wednesday night prayer meeting crowd, to pray for her Aunt Hazel because her bra strap was getting so tight.

God has got to have a sense of humor.

A Look Inside the Modern Kitchen

I guess my attempt to emulate my culinary hero is all shot to hell now.

I love to cook. This does not mean I prepare a seven course meal on a nightly basis, but I enjoy playing in the kitchen and have been known to fix some pretty fabulous meals.

Last night, I was pretending to be Rachael, chopping up my little onions on my nifty Pampered Chef cutting board, about to wow my kids with one of their favorite things I make. Chopping and chopping all perky like Ms. Ray I go. I had also put some peas on the back burner of the stove. (I hate peas, my kids love them. I don't get this but that's another blog for another day) Cut the peas on and I'm chopping on the cutting board, which I had strategically placed on my smooth top stove. (Another great invention)

I began to wonder why the butter was not melting in the peas. I had cut the burner on? At that very second, I started to smell plastic and smoke began to rise (nice aroma). #1 Son had walked in right before and was there to witness the whole thing. He was giving me that look that 14 year old boys are so good at and I turned to him and said "Watch me Son. Watch me and learn."

The Cheeseburger Pie turned out fabulously in spite of the cutting board snafu. I put a little Worcesteshire in mine to give it a little more flava.

This Is Love

I had to go to the dentist yesterday to get my teeth cleaned. I've gotten to where I dread the dentist because they tend to want to drill my teeth and then me pay them for that. I think it should be the other way around. I got way more than my teeth scraped and cleaned yesterday though.

I got to the office a few minutes before my appointment. There was a sign on the front desk telling me they were at lunch and would be back at 1:30 so, sit down and wait.
I found me a People magazine and was reading the latest about Brad and Angelina's "love" when the door opens and a man and woman, who appeared to be in their mid to late 60's, came in. It was obvious that the lady was not well. The man was behind her and had his arms around her waist guiding her through the door, helping her to walk. I'm not a medical person but I would guess the lady probably suffers from Alzheimers or has had a serious stroke at some point. She was dressed rather nice in a velour-type sweatsuit and even had earrings on. After he got her up the stairs and through the door, which was quite an ordeal, the man sat the woman down and he sat in the chair next to her. Once he got situated, he sat back and looked at her, smiled and tenderly put his hand on her cheek. He was talking to her and she just looked at him, not able to really talk to him but it seemed she was hanging on every word.

I have no idea who this couple is but I tell you what, they reminded me of what love and marriage are really about.

Watching The Bachelor the other night, Travis, in trying to make his decision about which bimbo to bring home to Mama, said something like "It's all about my feelings at this point." Poor guy. If he builds who he's going to spend the rest of his life with based on feelings, it's not going to be a strong union. Your feelings change from moment to moment. Love is a choice.

It's day after day, year after year, sickness, health and taking your wife to the dentist to get her broken tooth fixed, probably caused by a fall and being her voice because she can longer speak for herself and treating her, even in her frail state, as though she were the Queen. It was precious.

Urgent Care is a Bad Thing

Don't and I repeat DON'T go to the Walk In Clinic that's near Rivergate by Home Depot...Tennessee Urgent Care, I believe it's called.

I take the Princess there yesterday evening because she's been coughing and hacking and just plain not feeling good for a few days. I did not want to, but since our longtime family doctor up and retired on us we had no choice. (It would've taken 3 or 4 days just to get a call back from the new one).

We arrive at 5:10. There's a pretty good roomfull of folks (actually, everybody and their redneck cousin was there). We fill out the paperwork, pay the $50 copay (say WHAT?) and wait.

They have a sign on the wall that says something about "Don't be alarmed if somebody hasn't been here as long as you have is called before you." They called a few people before us and because I'm a good girl and follow directions, I was not alarmed.

They kept calling all these other people back and there we sat. Finally, after an hour and a half, I ask the girl (who we had been sitting right in front of after all this time) how much longer and she says "What's the name?" I tell her and the nurse says "There's no chart here." I was determined not to pitch a fit and make a scene. The thing that got me was the lack of apology I got. It didn't matter I had sat there that long and the receptionist had messed up and put our chart in the wrong place. I collected my $50 and we left.

I learned a couple things in the process...one, I need to grow a set of testicles and two, Tennessee Urgent Care....don't go there unless you're behind on your people watching.

Is There Such A Thing As Too Good?

When I heard Martina McBride was releasing a cd of classic country songs, nobody was happier than I. Martina is an incredible vocalist and I think has wasted her time doing those crappy, sappy, pop-schlop numbers she's been so fond of in recent years. (If I hear one more song about a daughter, I will shoot myself)

I'm all about old country music. The crap that comes out of Music Row today is so lame. (ex. Badonkadonk and Ms. SugarPits Girl) Stand any of the garbage Music Row produces today up against a Hank, Sr. song, or Hank Snow or Buck Owens, etc. they would kick their ass.

So I get this cd and look at the titles, which happen to be some of my absolute most favorite songs ever written: "Today I Started Loving You Again," "Help Me Make It Through The Night," "Once A Day," "You Aint Woman Enough," and a bunch of others. I am pumped. She even had Marty aka "Dandalion" Stuart write the liner notes....Dolly and Dwight both throw a little harmony in there. The stage is set for brilliance. So why am I left thinking "Ok, it's going to get really good in a minute?"

The tracks are great, her voice is great...but she sings so perfectly that it's like she went off and left her soul home that day. Her version of "You Aint Woman Enough" sounds exactly like what it is: a white, middle class girl from the Midwest, singing a Loretta Lynn song. Hear me, I'm not trying to compare Martina's recordings to the originals......no way. I'm all for different interpretations of art and love to hear different takes on stuff. (Unlike moldy, old figs who are anti anything done in the last 40 years).

It's so stinkin' flawless and perfect. Maybe I have an inner, subconscious thing against Martina because everything about her is so seemingly perfect?? Yeah, that's it. She's got the husband (ok I have one of those too) the three little cherub kids (I got them too) this amazing voice and pencil thin figure (I have a "decent" voice at best and the only thing pencily about me is, well, nothing.)

Maybe that's why my favorite singer types are the ones that aren't so perfect....like Skeeter Davis, for example. How she made a long, succesful career as a solo artist is a miracle but she was one of the best. She made ground-breaking records that crossed over the oceans and the charts. She didn't make the best choices in men (She married Ralph Emery, for the love) she got kicked off the Opry once for badmouthing the Nashville Police Dept. for arresting Jesus Freaks. She was this hip, unique, Buddy the Elf type of person who I miss.

Like Larry the Cable Guy said, "Martina McBride can sing but she aint no Skeeter Davis."

Go Kinky

I wish I lived in Texas so I could vote for the Kinkster.

Anybody who could write a song like "They Ain't Making Jews Like Jesus Anymore" or "Get Your Bisquits in the Oven and Your Buns In the Bed" and who is for gay marriage because they "deserve to be miserable like the rest of us", deserves to be the head honcho of the Lonestar State.

If you want to see something funny, watch the reality series they're doing on CMT on Kinky's campaign. The guy is so funny but he's also very smart and practical. I hope he wins.

February 19, 1992

Lots of stuff has happened since February 19, 1992. It's odd to think it's been 14 years since I saw my dad. At the same time, I see him everyday, especially in my two boys. One looks exactly like him and the other acts exactly like him. Sometimes, I see him when I look in the mirror.

At church today, they sang an old hymn, "Send The Light" and on the part where the bass part echoes, I heard my dad. One of my favorite things is when we sing one of those old hymns and I can swear I hear his baritone/bass (whatever he was in the mood for).

I inherited lots of things from, namely his fair skin, his twisted, sometimes off the wall sense of humor, his Attention Deficit, his eyes, the tendency to analyze everybody and everything and other things. I think the thing I'm most grateful I inherited, or learned from him, is the importance of placing my faith in God and the importance of committing each and every day to Him.

He was a dandy.

No Bidness Like Show Bidness

The Grascals are trying to get to Boston for a rather large festival today. They rode back from a show in Asheville last night, straight to the airport and their adventure for this trip is beginning to sound a little like "Planes, Trains and Automobiles."

At BNA, the plane had to be stopped and started a few times to reboot the computers (that's comforting) and for de-icing. They missed their connection in DC. Had to go through security twice and now will have to go through New York then to Providence then to rent cars.

Stories like this remind me why I never pursued music as a career. It's so glamorous.

The Ghost of Ted Baxter Spotted In Nashville

Ted Baxter is alive and well and living in Nashville. I know cause I saw him at the hair salong this evening. "Ted" is a tall, somewhat handsome feller and he still really, really likes himself. He was well dressed, perfectly coiffed and on the prowl.

Ted was waiting his turn and was sitting next to an attractive young woman, who was decked in foils. He struck up a conversation with her and was working the old Baxter charm. I heard enough of the conversation to hear him ask about her line of work. The exchange went something like this:

God's Gift To Humanity: "What DOES an accountant do?"

Attractive Young Lady: "There are different types of accountants."

Ted Baxter/Ron Burgundy: " So, you keep track of people's money?"

At that moment, Ted/Ron was called back for his appointment, I'm sure, much to the relief of the attractive, intelligent young lady.

Further humoring me, Anchorman was on his way back from the shampoo sink when he stopped in my mirror to take a quick peek. Thought for a minute he was going to give himself the ol' Pistol Shoot at himself.

Reckon he plays Jazz Flute?

Carlene Carter

I haven't seen this in the news anywhere, but happened upon it on another website. Carlene Carter has gotten married again.

Her amazing country music pedigree aside (mom June Carter Cash and dad is the still hot and charming Carl Smith) Carlene Carter is one of my favorite singer/songwriter types. Highly underrated as a songwriter, she has written some brilliant songs through the years. "Easy From Now On" (a #1 hit for Emmylou back in the 70's) has one of the best and most poetic lines I've ever heard in a song...."I'll be flying high in a fandangled sky"...

Carlene's had her fair share of ups and downs in recent years. She has buried her mother, stepfather, sister, longtime boyfriend and step mother, all in the span of less than two years. She's fought the law and the law won, but, she's clean and sober and I saw her brilliantly portray her mother this past summer in the play "Wildwood Flowers." Good for her.

Good, Good Ivy

Ivy's not so bad. She showed me how to do this. I still haven't figured out how to add links to my favorite blogs yet but I'm a'working on it. Thank you, Ivy.

Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm....

Random, ADD thoughts this morning....

Driving into work this morning, I saw something on the interstate I don't believe I've ever seen. I saw a squirrel cross I-65 right before you get to the Briley Pkwy/Dickerson Rd. exit. Even nuttier (pardon the pun) the little sucker made it across!!!

Mr. Smiff had to be downtown for something pertaining to the Country Radio Seminar this morning. He left his cell phone in the van, thus, I had two cell phones on my person. I had no idea that Mr. Smiff was so attached to his cell phone. He even came by my work to get it. I think it's something of a security blanket for him. Why then, can he not figure out how to record a message for his voicemail?

I know, or am aquainted with two people who have made it to the 44 finalists on "American Idol"....Mandisa Hundley used to work where I work and Darren Word is a friend of my nephew's. Darren is adorable and I hope he wins.

I consumed an entire box of Girl Scout cookies yesterday (Tagalongs) by myself. I'm now working on that second box (All Abouts). I think I'll be skipping weigh in for Weight Watchers today.

Why can't somebody in my household, other than myself, see that the trashcan is full and needs to be emptied? I'm wondering if they are conducting an experiment to see if the trash will walk itself outside?

Love For Sale

Valentines, schmalentines....

My dad used to leave my mom notes by the coffeepot on any regular day of the year. He bought her these romantic cards and would write in them how she was the love of his life, etc. I thought when I got married, my husband would do the same thing. HA! WRONG!

Mr. Smiff is romantically retarded and he is the first to admit this. He didn't have good role models in this area though so for that, I've learned to cut him some slack.

My father in law got my mother in law a bread tray for Christmas one year. Needless to say, my in laws have been divorced for about 38 years. One Christmas, he got his current wife a stepladder for Christmas. A stepladder.

Smitty's lack of talent in the romantic area used to be bothersome to me. It hit me last night when I was at Wal Mart and seeing lots of husbands clamoring for a card and trying to grab the last piddly bouquet consisting of 2 or 3 flowers with a $20 price tag that it was all pretty stupid.

I'd much rather get some sort of surprise outing, dinner, gift than a last minute, panicked, guilted gift just because the calendar says its February 14. Not that I ever WILL get that surprise but it's a nice thought though eh?

FLYLady Will Be Disappointed

My sink is not smiling at me this morning.

www.flylady.net says that to begin to get organized and stuff, you have to shine your sink every night before you go to bed and you'll wake up and your sink will be smiling and so will you. I didn't shine my sink. It has a broiler pan in it, some dishes...it ain't smiling.

I Love the 70's

I have been basking in the glow of 70's music Heaven all morning thanks to Satellite Radio. I've heard songs this morning that I have not thought of in twenty years or more, but yet, know every single word to:

Shadow Dancing-Andy Gibb-I don't care what anybody says, the Brothers Gibb are the absolute most underrated singers and songwriters around. Too bad everybody associates them with Saturday Night Fever cause they were much more than that. Ok so Andy was the sound alike kid brother...I LOVE them. Barry's gonna be my neighbor in the summer. Can't wait to run into him in the Wal Marts.

Billy, Don't Be A Hero-who in the crap sang this horrendous song?!?!?!?

Hot Stuff-Donna Summer-now hot stuffin' for Jesus.

Car Wash-Rose Royce -Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap-clap-clap BEEP!

Keep It Comin' Love -KC and the Sunshine Band-I prefer that there booty number he does.

Boogie Oogie Oogie-A Taste of Honey-Til you just cant' boogie no mo'.

I love the nightlife...I got to boogie...on the disco round....-Somebody explain to me what and where the Disco Round is???

The day would be complete if they would play "Run, Joey Run" or "Convoy."

Battle of the Sockses

There are approximately 1,453 socks in my house. They are not matched and most are dirty. I have found them in just about every nook and cranny of the house today. After complaints all week of "Mom, there are no socks!" I decided to gather as many socks as I could find and throw them all in the washer at the same time. The real fun will be after they come out of the dryer and attempting to match them. I'm seriously considering chuckin' them all and buying everybody in the house 7 pairs of socks.

I can't convey what a blessing it is to be able to spend my Saturday playing with socks. This is what I dreamt of all those times I visualized the white picket fence.

More Evidence of God's Residence

I don't see no heavy snow yet. Where in the crap is it? I even did a snowdance outside the Tiger Market, er, excuse me, the "On The Go" market or whatever theyr'e calling it this week. I ran in to make a purchase, came back out and stopped on the sidewalk and broke it down a little bit. Princess Daughter began to scream and holler, ordering me to stop it. I'm sorry, but I was feeling the city breakin' and everybody shakin' up a staying alive. When the mood hits me, there is no stopping me.

Everybody and their cousin was at Krogers. Sheesh. The thing I noticed in most people's baskets and then again at the Tiger/On The Go place was beer. Forget the bread and milk. If they're going to be snowed in, they're going to be drunk and snowed in.

On the news, I can't remember if it was Channel 2 or 4, a reporter was in Krogers in Williamson County. He reported that one of the big sellers was cat litter. He said "Here in Williamson County, people buy cat litter to use in their trunks, on their sidewalks..." As if those of us in Sumner County aren't worthy of using something cats normally take a dump in to give us low lifes outside of Williamson County traction, in one form or another, during this massive blizzard we're expecting.

February 10, 1969-Long Beach, CA
My aunt (with the hip, happenin' hairdo) my sister, who at 2 1/2 had no idea how her life was going to change this day, my mom and I'm in there somewhere...on their way to the hospital.

You Say It's Your Birthday....

Remember when birthdays were fun? When we used to look forward and anticipate our big day? You had Christmas and your birthday and it was a big deal. It's my birthday today and I don't think anybody up here on my new floor knows...or cares.

On my 9th birthday, I had a slumber party. All these little girls in the house and it was cool. I can remember most of the names of the girls: Terri Leigh Beazley, Melanie Dukes (now a middle school teacher in God's Land-Williamson County) Stacy Jones, Melissa Dukes, Shannon Hurt, Samantha Morgan (gosh, wonder where those two girls are now? Anybody?) Even Darrin Kirby graced us with his presence. We stayed up til 4 a.m and watched "Carrie" on the late night movie and an Elvis movie "A Change of Habit". Elvis said the word "damn" in this movie and I was shocked he would cuss. This was a few months after he died when we were all in denial that he would even smoke or take any sort of drug.

My dad arranged for Cousin Mickey, who was something of an A/V wizard, who brought video tape equipment and videoed the event. This was ultra cool because it was 1978, before most people had personal video cameras and VCR's. Only many years later do I look back at that and wonder why in the world a grown man had all this video equipment??? And why did my parents let him in the house with a bunch of little girls?? Add to that, Cousin Mickey was a permanent resident at the Mental Hospital out on Murfreesboro Rd. Hello? The same parents who wouldn't let us watch "James at 15" or "Three's Company" allowed this? Their logic amuses me now. Of course, at the time, I didn't know all this about Cousin Mickey. He was really harmless and I never noticed anything different about him. Poor guy met an unfortunate end off the bluff of the Cumberland River.

I start talking about it being my birthday and I end up talking about Elvis and cursing and mentally ill relatives. Isn't rambling from one topic to another a sign of aging?

Mr. Smiff is out of town and Jeff Ray seems pretty confident we'll get snow so I guess our celebrating will be limited to an evening with "Ed, Edd and Eddy."

As my hero Matt Foley would say.... whoop tee freakin doo.

The Blog That Wasn't

Earlier today, I had written what I thought to be my weirdest, funniest and best blog yet, however, I got under conviction when I remembered somebody might read my blog regularly and it might hurt her feelin's because she has no sense of humor about such things.

Oh well...ya'll will just have to trust me. It was a good ern.

Grammy Observations-SugarPits

Ya know....yay for Sugarland's success. Jennifer Nettles is a lovely lady with a decent voice. Their little ditties are sweet and all but I'm getting sick of her showing her armpits.

Sly Stone's hair is THE BOMB. Kanye West could learn a thing or two about cool from him.

Steven Tyler can still rock.

I got to hear Kelly Clarkson's acceptance speech over the phone.

And the Winner Is.............

Mr. Smiff just called from the Coast (listen at me) and Del and the Boys won the coveted Grammy. A little disappointed but if our guys couldn't win, then Del and them's the next best one. Del's been nominated many times but this is his first win. He is extremely deserving. Del, Ronnie, Robbie and Jason are longtime friends and co-horts of ours and we'll be happy for them in a minute.....

Guess I oughta dismantle that mantle I was building....

Grammies, Schmammies

I'm really trying not to be nervous today about this whole Grammy thing. Mr. Smiff and the guys have as good a shot as any of them as far as winning goes. They've had a great year....have great visibility and respect of music industry people (who does all the voting). It's slightly nervewracking.

They went to some pre-Grammy party last night. I asked if he saw anybody famous. The only person he mentioned was Jeff Hanna (nominated for Song of the Year for "Bless The Broken Road") Love Jeff, but we've seen him twice since Saturday!!!

People have asked why I did not go to LA for this most auspicious occasion...several reasons...

1. Three kids in school. I would've had to find three different places for them to stay. (Nobody in their right mind would keep them all at once!)

2. Mr. Smiff and the guys have to fly out tonight about midnight in order to make a show in Palatka, FL tomorrow.

3. The Grammy Show starts at 1:30 in the afternoon. My ADD wouldn't handle that well. For some reason, I'm not on the edge of my seat for Best New Age Spoken Word Liner Notes.

4. I probably would not have even gotten to sit with Mr. Smiff and I would not have been able to fly out there with him.

5. I am originally from Southern California and have a number of family members there. I have not seen them in 20 years. There would not have been time to visit and the thought of being there and not being able to see them....Grammy or not, that would've bothered me.

I do hope The Grascals can get their picture made with 50Cent or somebody like that. What a photo op.

A D In Band?!?!?!?

#1 Son is a smart boy. He's one of those irritating kids that makes A's and B's without ever cracking a book. Everyday, I ask him if he has homework. Everyday, I get the same answer from this mop headed, 6'1 inch kid...."No."

Back before Christmas, I insisted that he allow me to quiz him in preparation for his Science exam. He hemhawed and greatly protested saying he didn't need me to, etc. He was not going to rob me of a June Cleaver moment, by golly. He produces about 5 pages, front and back full of Science questions, with words like "protozoa" and other foot lawng words that I could not pronounce, much less have a clue what they mean.

We go through the entire mess of papers and he knew the answer to every single question, except for one. He aced the Science exam and got a 99 on it. That's my boy. It's like this in every subject for him. Every subject, that is, except Band.

When I was in school, Band was the ONLY subject I could count on getting an A in. It was and probably still is like that for most all American kids, except mine.

#1 Son plays the saxophone. I dreamt of the day he would come home and delight me with songs like "Yakety Sax" and "Night Train". This kid has musical talent running all through his veins. Both sides of his family have or have had professional musicians. His father is in Los Angeles this very moment preparing for the Grammy Awards tomorrow, for the love of Johnny Cash, in which he and his band are nominated. He can harmonize and even sing bass. He has natural rythym and a natural ear.

Progress reports came home today (not to be confused with the Report card at the end of the 9 weeks) and he has A's and high B's in everything.....except Band. In Band, he has a D. A D!!!!! We have this discussion all the time....How in the world does one make a D in Band???? He goes through the same thing everytime, he hates Band, he hates playing Sax and wants to switch to drums but the band director won't let him. (I don't agree with that one bit).

This band director is different than most. She insists they practice regularly and have us parents sign a card saying they have practiced. Apparently, it works because her middle school band is better than any I've ever heard. My fear is that in a few years when he's applying for colleges that the one he really wants to get into well raise an eyebrow over that D in Band in Middle School. He will be pissed off and probably try to find some way to hang it on me.

I sound like the Charlie Brown schoolteacher to him. You don't think about stuff like this during pregnancy. "What To Expect When You're Expecting" didn't cover this in any of that book.

Super Bowl Sunday

The Gumbo is done so the Super Bowl can commence.

I don't really give a rip about football and whoever wins is who I'm for. I was not blessed with a long attention span, therefore, football is something of a mystery to me. I know who lots of the players are because Mr. Smiff is quite the football fan. If the Titans were in it, yes, I would be into it a little more and probably more caught up in the excitement.

I do associate football and Super Bowl watching a little with my dad. He took some enjoyment in watching it so I can't help but think about many Sunday afternoons and him parked in front of the tv. He didn't have a specific team he pulled for, he just dug watching it. He would've gotten a kick out of Nashville having an NFL team, I'm sure. Wish he were around today to share in the day and watch the game with his grandsons and son in law.

The REAL winners of today's game will be my family and various in laws who have the good fortune to partake in my most excellent Gumbo. It sho do smell good.

Lance & Sheryl

Reckon ol Lance is wondering if Sheryl Crow was worth leaving his wife and children for about now?

Adultery is so great! It's just so cool to break the family up, especially when small children are involved and get them all nice and confused and attached to a new person.

People don't like that the Bible warns against adultery, but it's not there just to keep us from having a good time for the heck of it. The consequences are pretty large and avoiding it can keep us from suffering worse later.

Louise Scruggs

It's a bit ironic to me that Coretta Scott King and Louise Scruggs both passed away within the same week. I think these two ladies had some things in common.

Both were huge forces behind their very influential and legendary husbands. Both were shrewd and highly intelligent and accomplished women and would have been succesful in some form or fashion had they not ever had the occasions to meet Martin and Earl.

Mrs. King has spent the last 38 years keeping the memory of her late husband burning and raised 4 children in the process, alone. All the while, she kept a steely type of dignity about her. I'm sure Mrs. King probably laughed, but I never saw it.

Louise possessed a similar type of dignity about her. Often, people have misunderstood her and thought she was cold or aloof. True, to get to Earl, you had to go through Louise. She fiercely protected the whole image and public persona of her legendary husband.

One time, we were at a picking party at the Scruggs house. I took my video camera for my own personal use. A few days later, Louise called to make sure we weren't going to sell it. Never in a million years would I have ever considered something like that, but it goes to show where her mind was and what she was about.

Over-protectiveness aside, Louise was one of the warmest, most generous and hospitable people I've come across.

Louise Scruggs spent the last 58 years seeing to it that the world would know who her husband, Earl Scruggs is. At a time when women were not very influential on Music Row and the ones who worked there were mostly receptionists and bookeepers, Louise Scruggs was managing, promoting and booking Flatt & Scruggs. Louise did all of that while largely raising she and Earl's three sons, Gary, Randy and Steve alone. I say "alone" because Earl was gone most of the time.

I know, for a fact, that Louise Scruggs laughed because I saw her do it many times and it was one of the funniest things and one of the strongest memories I will carry of her. When Louise laughed, she didn't just go out with and laugh, funny ha ha. When she got really tickled, she would bounce up and down and not make a sound.

I certainly hope that the CMA will consider putting Louise Scruggs in the Hall of Fame. She certainly belongs there.

UPDATE:

We attended Louise's funeral service earlier this week. It was a lovely service at the Ryman Auditorium (where in 1946 a 19 year old Louise, sitting on the front row during an Opry performance, spotted the cute banjo player in Bill Monroe's band). Dwight Yoakam sang "In The Garden" with more heart and soul than I've ever heard it done in my life; Travis Tritt, Marty Stuart, The Whites all rendered their songs beautifully; Eddie Stubbs presided and showed clips of a rare, solo interview with Louise; Vince Gill did his usual funeral number "Go Rest High (I've heard him do that song at no less than 5 funerals in the past couple years. He's so good to do that for people) but this time, he barely made it through, relating how he identified with Louise where this song was concerned. He told of how he saw his mother bury a son and Louise and Earl did the same thing in 1992 following their youngest son Steve's suicide. Pretty heavy.

Billy Bob Thornton caused uproarious laughter remembering a time when he caught Louise off guard doing his famous character, Karl Childers, from his masterpiece of a movie, "Slingblade." I laughed so hard, I had to excuse myself to the ladies room.

If a funeral can be great, this one was. A great time of tears, laughter, celebration and remembrance of a fantastic lady that I feel blessed to have known.

RIP Natalie Maines

So Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks is telling us she is "done" with country music..she never liked it anyway, even though it made her a star, gave her opportunities that most people will never have and not to mention a wealthy woman, because of the backlash for her infamous comment regarding her fellow Texan, President George W. Bush.

Alls I have to say about that is this....I just hope she someday doesn't find herself in a situation where she needs country music to make a living. Say, she has a shady business manager who invests a lot of her money in some sort of bad real estate deal or forgets to make sure the IRS gets their yearly contribution from her. Or, if she actually matures and realizes if it weren't for country music, she would probably be slinging hash in a greasy spoon in Lubbock and she wants to give twang a stab again. I don't know that country fans will be forgiving about this latest bout she's having with diarrhea of the mouth.

Country music fans are probably the most loyal in the entertainment world. They are wrongly made fun of (especially by Nashvillians every June) but they will stick with "their" artist through thick and thin and through brilliance and crap (think Chris Gaines). They make it possible for artists to make a living until they either drop dead onstage or have to be wheeled out by their nurse.

I think a majority of country fans had forgiven Natalie for her lack of articulation and elegance of speech but denouncing the music, like she has done...I do believe she has just dug her own Music City grave, for real this time.

Missing the Two Sexiest Fat Men Alive

Are Rick and Bubba ever coming back on the air in Nashville?!?!?!

Sure, I can listen to them online but it's not the same as in the car. Somebody, PLEASE bring them back. Nashville needs Bucky Beaver, Dicky Nadmire, Speedy, Don Juan and all the gang. COME ON RADIO PEOPLE!!

Steeples and Graffiti

My pal Eric McLemore says God lives in Williamson County. I think this is true. On News Channel 5+, they have their own show, they have their own section of the Tennessean and it appears to be where lots of people want to live.

The aforementioned theory of God's residence was confirmed to me last night while watching the news on Channel 2.

Forest Hills Baptist Church sits on the corner of Old Hickory Blvd. and Hillsboro Rd., where it has sat since it was started in about 1959 or 60. The original home of the church was in a house on the corner across the street. (I believe the house is still there, now a private home). Ground was broken on the current sanctuary in October of 1978. Technically, Forest Hills Baptist Church is on the Davidson County side, but the Williamson County line is a hop, skip and a jump away from the church property and a lot of the church's members live there.

The steeple was in dire need of some repair work and a paint job so the church had a company take it down, fix 'er up and put it back. A snafu of biblical proportions ocurred though when the company hired to fix it painted it (gasp!) white instead of the beige on the church trim. There seems to be a disagreement on whether to keep it white or have them repaint it.

A disagreement over a church steeple is news?!?!?! It shows to go you that anything that happens in Williamson County is news because God DOES live there.

I can laugh about this because Forest Hills Baptist Church is the church I attended (as did my philosophical friend Eric) and was a member of from the time I was 6 years old until I married and moved to the other side of town. I was baptized there, married there, and I put the only known graffiti on the bathroom walls there when I was about 7 when during a service, I went to the restroom and had this uncontrollable urge to write on the bathroom wall. I knew I couldn't (and wouldn't have anyway) written anything nasty so I wrote "Jesus" on the Kotex box. The last time I looked, in about 1995, my own brand of witness was still there, in all its glory on the holy Kotex dispenser.

The Git R Dones: Party of Seven

Most of the extended Smiff Clan went to Sunday lunch after church today. Eating out with Mother In Law Smiff is a serious matter. It's more than just grabbing a bite to eat. Being she's something of a well known Southern cook extraordinaire food is a big deal.

So anyway, we all agreed to go to Logan's, since they had not been graced with our presence in awhile. We decided to call ahead and my wise acre, but quite humorous 19 year old nephew, Jeremy made the call. When they asked for the name of the party, he told them to expect "The Git R Dones" in about 15 minutes.

The Git R Dones arrived and Princess Daughter thought we were kidding about our pseudonym. When she found out we were serious, of course, being 12, she was mortified. She kept holding her ears everytime they'd go to call a name. Finally, the hostess announced over the microphone "Git R Done, party of 7" and the best part she said it like our hero, Larry the Cable Guy would. The Princess was not at all amused when I answered with a "yee haw."

Now, I understand why my father used to enjoy embarassing us so long ago. It's quite fun.

Dedication

I got to thinking about teachers yesterday when through a "can you believe this" set of email events, I was in contact, through email with an old teacher of mine that I have not seen since about 1981.

Marianne Hawkins started teaching in the Williamson County School system in 1974. The next year, when I was in first grade, her classroom was next to Mrs. Campbell's first grade class. Lipscomb Elementary School had bought into the "open" classroom" theory so it was like the classes were all together. You could see everything that went on in the class next to you and probably helped cultivate a lot of ADD in kids.

Miss Hawkins was young and lots of fun. All the kids really dug her. By the time I got to fifth grade, she had jumped over there (I guess she tired of Dick and Jane and wanted more "mature" fare) and I got to be in her class.

Miss Hawkins did some babysitting on the side and often stayed with our next door neighbor's daughter while they went out of town. We were pretty tight with the neighbors and since she was my teacher, I got to spend some neat time with her away from school and boy, was it fun. Miss Hawkins truly loved children and she must not have gotten too sick of me since she hauled us some places in her small, ultra cool car. If memory serves, it was a little Chevrolet of some sort but it could've been the Beverly Hillbillies jalopy, for all I cared cause I got to hang out with Miss Hawkins. She even let us call her by her first name away from school.

Miss Hawkins turned into Mrs. Meriweather and "Mom" to a couple of kids, while I moved on to junior high, high school, marriage, Momhood of my own and I have not laid eyes on her since the early 80's. Even so, I can remember minute, obscure details about her and she was a real role model for a little girl. She told me she had been teaching for 31 years (what?!?!?!) is a mother in law now and was looking at retirement soon. Sheesh, I remember her 28th birthday...I'm sure she does too.

Ironic catching up with Ms. Hawkins/Meriweather yesterday when I heard about a car accident involving my 14 year old son's History teacher, Betty Peden. Ms. Peden epitomizes dedication much like Ms. Hawkins/Meriweather.

Ms. Peden retired a few years back from Metro Schools. She taught at one of the inner city high schools for something like 30 years. She hated retirement and missed her kids. So she jumped into the Sumner County School system. The thing about that that gets me is Ms. Peden lives in Antioch and Knox Doss Middle School is just about in Gallatin. School starts at 7:30 every morning so no telling what ungodly hour she has to rise and start her treck across town.

Thursday, she left school, probably went home but came all the way back to Hendersonville (or was trying to) for the basketball game that evening when she was involved in a multi-car wreck and is recovering in Vanderbilt with some pretty nasty injuries. I'm astounded that she would want to come back after being there all day. I certainly don't want to go back to my job in the evening.

Ms. Peden and Mrs. Meriweather are dedicated. God bless them both.

Can't Be The Biggest Loser

DANG! I was hoping to try out so I could wear nothing but a sports bra and biker shorts on tv. Now that auditionshttp://www.comcast.net/tv/index.jsp?cat=TELEVISION&fn=/2006/01/26/313028.html have been canceled, the world will not get to view all of my lovlieness.

Obituaries

Do you ever read the obituaries?

I do every single day and have since I was a kid. People think I'm morbid but I'm not. (Never mind I love www.findagrave.com and www.Findadeath.com) The obits are interesting. My next door neighbor, Dorothy Jones, read the obits everyday and she was always in the know about everything going on. I look at it as keeping up.

I've learned of deaths of parents of people I knew from school, or people I used to go to church with, work with, etc. When you have experienced loss, you know how much it means to get a card, or a visit at the funeral home. I learned this from my own father's death and try to respond when I can in such situations. It's impossible when a death occurs to let everybody you know know the news.

Another fun thing about the obituaries is that some are very long and detailed, giving lots of interesting info about the person who has passed. You can find out people who are kin to each other that you didn't know were kin.

The funniest thing is seeing the nicknames. There are lots of people called "Pee Wee", "Booger," "Big Mama"...whoda thunk the obits could be so entertaining? The nicknames give a bit of an insight as to who the person was and what kind of personality they had.

Needless to say, to see an obituary of an infant, or child or any young person is disturbing and I always wonder what happened and say a silent prayer for the families left behind.

Obituaries aren't cheap either. When my stepfather died last year, it cost a buttload to have a small obituary and a photo in the Sunday paper. Talk about price gouging!! My stepfather, being tight with a buck, would have pitched a royal fit if he'd have known my mother spent like $500 on his obituary.

I Hate Meetings

I hate meetings. I get sooo sleepy and have to fight the urge to yawn every single time I'm in one. Be it something interesting or not.

This morning, I'm out at Opryland Hotel to meet with some publicist types in from out of town. We meet outside that bar that used to be called something else, about 7 of us crammed around a tiny table, two different conversations going on at once and at Opryland Hotel, you've got some good people watching. I felt like #2 Son, who is ADHD, and when we're trying to get him to do his homework and his eyes fight to wander...that was me. Bored out of my skull and being new in this position, not having nary a clue what they were talking about.

No wonder presidents and stuff tend to doze off....sheesh.

Mom Is Not Dead

My sister calls me this evening as I'm coming back from the grocery store saying she had tried to call Mom all weekend, left three messages and she never called her back. She was scared she was lying in a heap with her little poodle sniffing her.

My mom is a source of concern for my sister and I. She is 71 years old, twice widowed and lives alone in West Nashville. Since my dad died in 1992, Mom shut herself off, totally from all of her and Dad's friends. In spite of being in pretty good health (and in spite of the Marlboro Red habit she has had for lo about 50+ years)she has not an iota of interest in going anywhere or doing anything. My sister and her family live in Knoxville and she is forever trying to get her to come visit, but she won't. I live across town and rarely see her. She lives in West Nashville, for goodness sake. There is nothing happening on that side of town nor any real reason (other than her) for us to go over there. In fact, usually, she doesn't want us, any of us around.

Every time there is a plan for my sister and her family to come visit or some other plan in place, Mom will inevitably turn up sick. The woman can will herself to get bronchitis. I've never seen anything like it. One would think she would delight in her 5 grandchildren coming to see her, but instead it causes her to have a hacking cough and hives.

Part of that, I think, is that her husband she married in 1996, was not the kind of guy who particularly related to young children. I think he was a bit OCD myself. I think while he was alive, Mom would get so nervous about the possibility of her husband being made nervous by her broods is why she would force herself into these exiles of sudden illness. He has been dead a year and from what she says, she prefers to be alone and just not have us in her face. I can call on a Saturday and say "Hey, we were going to come over." Oftentimes, I get a "hmmmph" or she'll announce she is in a bad mood.

The whole thing makes my sister and I terribly sad and we try to laugh about it to keep from becoming totally depressed by it. I know a lot of her problem is age and the fact that when my father died, a huge part of her died. Mom is a little on the shy side and Dad never met a stranger. He liked to be on the go and Mom's introvertedness was a good balance. It worked for them. They had lots of friends and were always going here and there. She was the first of their group to be widowed and when the livlier spouse dies, it freaks people out and they don't know how to act around the survivor. I think Mom sorta felt like a leper and avoided all of those people and possible situations that might bring moments of sadness. I can't help but feel like if she'd have worked through that a time or two, she'd still see those dear people who were like extra parents to us and wonderful friends to her and Dad.

Sister finally got Mom to answer the phone and then I got her a little later. She used the same excuse about how we hang up too quickly before she can answer the phone and she even threw the "I was doing my Pilates" excuse. She is alive and well and holding down the QVC fort and seemingly is clueless as to why we get concerned about her. Nothing we can do except respect her need for privacy and solitude and go on about our business and try not to dwell on the fact I feel like an orphan when it comes to family.

I wish Dad were still here.

Blue Clear Sky

Watching a bit of the Steelers/Broncos game in Denver yesterday..ok, so I wasn't actually watching or giving a real rip about the actual game, but Mr. Smiff was. I was quite captured by a sight I haven't seen in awhile...it took me a minute to figure out what it was and it was the most gorgeous, blue sky I've ever seen. Made me wish I was there. We've had so much rain and dreary days, I had forgotten what the blue sky looked like.

I want some sunshine and blue sky! I don't care if it's cold. No wonder people get seasonally depressed.

Imaginary Friends

#2 Son is 7 years old. He told me last night on his way to bed that he was going to wake at 5:59 a.m. this monring because his show comes on at 6. No idea what his show is, but I would wager it comes on Cartoon Network. (Just found out it's Ed, Edd and Eddy.")

#2 also has a new imaginary friend. It's a different kind of imaginary friend because #2 is a different sort of kid and this imaginary friend is not totally invisible. It's a piece of wood that he's drawn a face on and his name is "Plank". Best I can understand, they have something similar on "Ed".

#2 and Plank just ate their Frosted Cheerios and he asked if Plank could come to church with us. I guess if Plank is under conviction by the Holy Spirt, we'll just take him along.

Do-Mestik Injuneering

Ahhh...your typical Saturday at the Smiff House. The kids are fighting over the computer. Princess Daughter has discovered My Space.com and that is the center of the universe, as far as she is concerned. #1 Son gets online and plays Neopets for hours on end while listening to Rick and Bubba. #2 Son occasionally wants to play a game or something, but as a rule he's not involved in the fracas surrounding the computer. Arguments and insults abound between the older Smiff kids and it drives me nuts. All the while, Dad is away on the road taking bows and signing autographs.

I'm also in a never ending battle for the laundry and housework. I'm not a housekeeper. I suck at it. I hate it. Because of this, we live in what Fly Lady calls "C.H.A.O.S"...aka "Can't Have Anybody Over Syndrome."

Mr. Smiff promises when we get caught up, I can once again have a housekeeper come. I'm fearful that a professional would show up here, scream and run away crying "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Therefore, I have to clean house before the housekeeper can come and even then, I'm scared they'll not want to come.

My mother made it look so easy, the whole running the house thing. Course, she didn't work and had two kids as opposed to my three. (Those without more than two kids may not think there is much difference in the balance and rythym of the home between two and three kids, but oh there is.) Even so, my memories of home were that things were basically pretty together. There wasn't crap piled up on the kitchen table, the house was decorated pretty nicely, the bathroom was never yucky, like mine tends to get. I don't recall that my father ever really jumped in and helped out. I do remember her having her moments but all in all, home life was pretty idyllic. Mom wasn't a drinker or pill popper, that I ever saw, however, the Marlboros were ever present.

I've tried the Baby Steps on Fly Lady, read every book there is on organizing and having the perfect home but still, my skills as Domestic Goddess, after all these years are crappy.

I see these moms at church, school, etc. Perfect hair, perfect bodies, perfect looking children and want so bad to ask them "How?!?!?"

Anybody that cares to clue me in on how this is all done, please feel free.

Pickers

I'm married to a musician. I realize for someone living in the Nashville area to say that is like saying "I brush my teeth in the morning." What else is new, eh?

The difference in my musician is that he is a real, working one. He has never had a "real" job in his life. I didn't realize how out of touch he was with those of us who do the 9 to 5 thing until a couple weeks ago, he got an email from his fellow band members about a Wednesday meeting and someone referred to Wednesday as "Hump Day." The musician in him assumed it was a dirty connotation. He had NO idea what "Hump Day" meant!!!!! I had to explain to him that Hump Day is Wednesday because it is the middle of the week...we're getting over the hump of the week yada yada....claims he has never heard that phrase before.

Mr. Smiff is part of a band called The Grascals. They do bluegrass and do it very well. They won two awards in October from the International Bluegrass Music Association (IBMA), have opened at Radio City Music Hall and are nominated for a Grammy next month. They're playing the Station Inn on February 3.

To say I'm proud of Mr. Smiff is an understatement. We've been married 16 years and through 3 kids, ups and downs of musician life, I'm still his biggest cheerleader. He's had numerous near misses in his musical career. Been this far from major record deals only to have them taken out from under him; has secured a couple major record deals,(one record deal was all signed sealed and delivered, project recorded, and about a week later, taken away from him a couple days after we had brought our daughter home from the hospital. It was one of the worst moments in our married life) publishing deals, brushes with greatness, highs, lows, disappointments like you wouldn't believe. He's been a professional musician since he was 5 years old and he's still at it. Still, in my not so humble opinion, one of the best upright bass players and singers that's ever graced any stage. We've not been foreclosed on and we still have our cars. We don't live in a mansion but it's in a nice part of town and our kids go to the best schools in the county.

For him to get a Grammy nomination has made all the heartaches and hassles worth it. He has played SO many less than glamorous gigs in his time. Good lord, the stories he can tell. He's also played some pretty cool gigs all these years and crossed paths with some pretty interesting folks. I would be quite happy to have a Grammy on my mantel (wait, I don't have a mantel) but, if he doesn't win, that's ok. The competition is fierce with Rhonda Vincent, Cherryholmes,Del McCoury and Blue Highway. He's going to go to Hollywood and enjoy the moment. I can't help but think in his mind, some of the naysayers and jackasses he's had in his life will get the middle finger ala the famous (and fabulous) Johnny Cash photo.

The Grascals video "Me and John and Paul" is beginning to air on GAC and hopefully in the next little bit will air on CMT. Check them out. www.grascals.com

My Nephew, the Writer

My nine year old nephew, Payton, provided me and some other people with a laugh yesterday. I don't think it was quite so funny to his parents. Got a note from his mother, my sister:

"His homework folder comes home yesterday with all his work from the week
before. All his papers and tests. On top is a note that he made the honor
roll last 6 weeks. So I was just gushing all over him about that.

Then I get to a paper where she apparently had them read a story and write 3
or 4 lines about it. He wrote it in cursive and his handwriting was great.
Then I read the story. It was about a spider who was apparently very mean.
The story said (I'm paraphrasing)

"He was a selfish, dirty, rotten food eating F... headed jerk. He was mean
to everyone And did I mention that he was a F...? Oh yea, I did."

Didn't spell out the bad word but put "F..."

I about died. Asked him what that stood for. He said "I cant tell you -
it's bad". I said "Payton do you know what that word means? He said no. I
said "That is the nastiest word anyone can say" I think he thought it meant
stupid or dumb. I asked who taught him that word and he said "Kevin".

My son used the F word in his homework!!!"

Kinda reminds me of my favorite movie "Coal Miners Daughter" where Loretta says the word "horny" live on the radio. She thought it meant "cuttin' up and actin' silly".

Two shockers yesterday. Ok, maybe one. Found out a long time employee where I work (totally upstanding in his moral character, or so they thought) is no longer an employee here due to an inappropriate relationship with a younger employee.

I understand the mid life crisis thing. I just hope it was worth losing his job of 20 something years and probably losing his wife.

Shocker #2...Leif Garrett arrested in LA. NO! Say it aint so. How come ol Leif hasn't turned up on the Surreal World Yet?

Snow Day....For Some

It appears I'm the only one in my office this morning. Obviously, the BLIZZARD that hit Music City last night has kept them all in. Wimps.

To listen to the morning news people, one would've thought the roads were simply impassable and treacherous. This is not true. It took me less time this morning to get from Hendersonville to Downtown than it usually does and that included stopping for gas. Go figya.

Smiff Children were happy dancing last I heard before I went to sleep. As adults, we forget how meaningful snow days are. I guess that's because we don't get them anymore. One of the crappy things about being a grownup..no snowdays. Well, you can take a snow day off but somehow, it's not as fun. Especially for me because if I had taken today off, it's not like I'd have been able to enjoy a restful day of slumber and relaxation. I figure I get more rest here at work. People laugh when I say that but the moms out there know how true that can be. If I were home, I'd be washing clothes, breaking up an argument, picking up somebody else's mess and I certainly wouldn't get my pick of what tv show to watch (out of the 5 tv's in the house, mind you.

Al "Waaaaaaaa" Gore

I really dislike Al Gore. Not because of his politics, but since he lost the 2000 election, he has turned into a whiny, ninny baby. Everytime he shows up on something, he has this whiny tone to his voice. I'm going to have to say to him what I say to my 7 year old "I can't hear you when you're whining. If you'll stop whining, I'll listen to what you have to say."

I wish Al Gore and Naomi Judd would just, like, go away so we'd never see them again. I don't wish any harm to them, but if they'd just go off somewhere and not turn up on television, I'd be very happy. There's a whole other list of public personas I wish would do the same. I'll have to collect them and post later.

Golden Globes/Walk The Line

I haven't been watching the awards all night. I saw a little the first half hour, went to run and just saw "Walk The Line" win Best musical movie. I'm tickled to see a movie about two of my favorite musicians/personalities win so many awards. I'm even MORE tickled to see that Geena Davis has back fat!!!!! I could beat her in a back fat contest any day, however, I'm glad to see she has it. They need more back fat in Hollywood. The world would be a better place.

I'm still kinda amazed that everybody's raving over Reese Witherspoon as June Carter Cash. Granted, I think Reese (we're on a first name basis, being she's a hometown girl and all) is adorable. I love her in "Sweet Home Alabama", "Legally Blonde", etc. Her portrayal of June is kinda like those characters though. June had a certain edge to her that I don't think Reese had a clue about. Come on, she went to Harpeth Hall. Harpeth Hall is a long way from the stage of the Grand Ole Opry, even though they are int he same town. Yeah, yeah, I know she studied, talked to people, etc. but I felt like I was watching Reese Witherspoon with her hair colored. She played a nice role and all, but, as a huge June Carter fan, I don't think she came close to capturing her. I think Holly Hunter could've nailed it. Good for Reese for getting the approval of the Hollywood Foreign Press, though. She's worked hard. I'm just a bit unobjective when it comes to June Carter. She was something of a hero of mine.

Joaquin, on the other hand, was perfect to play Cash. He has the intensity in his eyes, life experiences in pulling off the most complex, unique character that was Johnny Cash.

Read both of the Cash autobiographies, "Man In Black" and "Cash, An Autobiography" and while you're at it, read both of June's books "Among My Klediments" and "From My Heart." All are great reads. Fascinating people, the Cashes...I miss them.

Let It Snow

The weatherman said the 4 letter word that to some, is equivalent to an obscenity...SNOW. To me, it is a glorious word and I wish we'd get a foot of it. I'm not holding my breath, but I can dream.

We don't get snow in Nashville like we used to get. When I was a kid, there were a couple school years where we missed practically the whole month of January. When I was in 2nd and 3rd grade (yes, many moons ago) they had to tack on 30 minutes at the end of the schoolday so we'd get a summer break. I don't necessarily dream of a white January to that extent, in fact, the thought of my kids being out of school that long causes me to go into the shakes.

All I want is a good 9-12 incher, maybe one day out of work. Heck, I'm willing to sacrifice a vacation day for it. Too bad that work can't call for a snow day and the Sumner County schools to go to school as normal.

Animals

Once again, we were heathens today.

Why has my cat taken to licking plastic bags...plastic bags ala Wal Mart????? I don't like the cats. I just don't. I have them because #1 son and his daddy have an affinity for them. They get on my last nerve. I like Emily the cat better than Crystal. Emily is kinda like a dog.

I love dogs. I have three of them. Chelsea, the 2 year old mix of all sorts who is the only puppy I've ever had or ever heard of that learned to potty train in a day; Bogie (official registered name Bogart Van Bam Bam) the three year old miniature dachshund who reminds me of a British butler; and Chloe the poodle/pomeranian mix who will be 15 in March. Chloe is terribly arthritic, has congestive heart failure, a bit on the senile side and doesn't see or hear well UNLESS it's dinnertime. She doesn't think the other dogs should be allowed to eat and she and Chelsea have this game where when Chelsea wants to piss Chloe off she gets in her face so Chloe will bark and act like she's going to kill her. Chelsea loves it. Tail a'waggin all the while and I swear I think she's laughing.

Bogie likes to bark at every sound he hears. I know when Bogie's barking, it's nothing but a kid walking by or maybe he hears a car somewhere down the street. Now, when Chelsea joins him in barking, I know there's a reason. Chloe, being the old, senile lady she is, usually starts barking about 15 minutes later. No joke.

Every year, I say "Chloe probably won't make it through the year" but she's still here. Her appetite is good and she loves her position as Alpha Female. I know the day will come, sooner more than later, that we'll wake up one day and know it's time. It will be a sad day. I've had Chloe longer than I've had my kids. She has lived with us at every abode we've lived in during our marriage. She knew my father, who has been dead for 14 years. She's a great little companion. The only time she's ever had anything wrong with her was a couple Halloweens back, #2 son left his chocolate candy all over the place and she dug in. Nearly killed her but she recovered. Until her day comes, she'll continue to entertain us and love us (especially me).

Hair and Eyebrows

Back from the salon and all I have to say is "ahhhhhhhhhh." Amazing how a cut and color can not only revitalize your head but your insides as well.

I was way overdue for a color. When I say "way overdue", please believe me. The front half of my hair is gray. Not solid, Emmylou white, but the sides are really white and salt and peppery from the front to the crown. The back is still pretty dark. If the sides weren't so white, I'd let it go. If I were to let it go, I'd resemble Bill Monroe in later years with his thick sideburns. As it is, however, it must be colored.

The whole gray hair thing has been sorta traumatizing. I don't stay up nights pining for my just-about-black shade that God gave me, but, like most other things in life, I did not appreciate the richness of my color until it was too far gone. I feel like at almost 37, I should still have dark, dark hair. Dark, shiny and bouncy like it was 10 years ago. Since that is not possible, without the aid of chemicals, I go to the salon and have a professional deal with it for me.

I've tried doing it myself but will inevitably miss spots and the store bought stuff just doesn't cover it up. You can tell the difference between a do it yourself and a pro job. I found the wonderful Samantha at Nashville's SalonFX some months ago and she does a great job.

I was so overdue for a trip to Sam's because money has been tight, especially with Christmas. The gray roots had surpassed the root stage and appeared as though I was trying to grow it out. So much so, #1 son laughed at my gray hair recently. I told him to hush because the reason I had gray roots screaming "Howdy" to everybody I meet was so he could have Christmas.

My friend Sherian is always giddy on days she's going to get her hair done and I've always thought it was funny until this week, I found myself looking forward to today. Samantha did not disappoint and she highlighted, colored, cut and styled my mop and I'm feeling almost pretty tonight. Not only did the hair get done, but I splurged and had my eyebrows waxed and Sam gave those babies a color job too. When it comes to eyebrows, Brooke Shields has NOTHING on me.

Hair's fixed and I'm hoping I don't smush it while I slumber tonight so I can enjoy the benefits of Sam, somewhat tomorrow. I can NEVER make it look like she does. When I win the powerball, I'm going to have it done every single day. Maybe Sam will come work for me and be my personal stylist.

SalonFX is a little more pricey than most places I've traded with through the years. It's in the heart of a trendy part of Nashville, near Music Row. All the stylists that work there are extremely hip, most of them tatooed, pierced and they all wear black and white. Some of the chicks that work there wear stiletto heels and I'm mesmerized by how they can stand on their feet all day wearing those things. There are a few cuter than cute type girls in there and the guys that work there aren't your stereotypical male hairdressers. They have a woman in there who does nothing but wax all day. She waxes women, men, God only knows where on their bodies.

SalonFX is a fascinating place to people watch. One day, I saw both Bart Durham and Vice Mayor Gentry in there. Surreal seeing Nashville's most famous tv lawyer getting his hair washed. Doesn't compare with the time I saw Porter Wagoner getting a pedicure at my nail place in Hendersonville though.

First weigh in on Weight Watchers a bit ago and dangit, if I didn't lose 4.8 lbs! Funny how when you follow the plan like you're supposed to, drink water and exercise, weight comes off. I've gotten so discouraged in recent years attempting to lose weight and hitting brick walls and plateaus. I gotta hang in with this one.

I have made it back to the Y and hitting the running treadmill. Yeah, yeah, I know it's better to run outside, but, I'm not up for running in the dark alone, dodging cars, dogs, etc. It wasn't as hard getting back to it as I thought. I'm a little slower but it feels good to be at it again. Running does wonders for my mental health as well as the physical. Naysayers love to remind you it's hard on the knees. Well, so is not exercising at all.

The Grascals video is up on CMT.com. Go watch it. http://www.cmt.com/artists/az/grascals/artist.jhtml

Note to self....make sure to leave burial instructions for my family so they don't leave me sitting in front of the tv to be mummified for two years. Sounds like something out of one of the "Vacation" movies... Imogene Coca riding atop the station wagon.....one of the funnier moments in American Cinema.

It's a good day here...Report card day (or "grade card" day as my dad used to call it). #1 son got A's and B's...#2 son got all A's (including an A in Language brought up from a C!) Princess Daughter had a couple exam grades that weren't so hot but she still got B's and C's.

I went and ran for the first time in almost 2 months. Didn't do too bad....my foot's bothering me so I squeaked out two miles of running and walking. The goal is to do do the Tom King in March. Dang, why did I slack off during Thanksgiving and Christmas?!?!? I was doing 5 miles. Why oh why do we do such things? You lose mucho conditioning if you miss a week. Whine, whine, moan, moan....back on the wagon for me.

Happy Birthday Elvis

Hard to believe Elvis would've been 71 years old today. Reckon what he'd have been like at 71? Say, he'd gotten a clue and gotten clean....I kinda think he'd be enjoying his rightful place as Elder Statesman of the music world.

Opinions and theories abound about The King, but, as for me, I wish he were still around.

Elvis is still everywhere though. The other night, we rented "The Outsiders" from Netflix. They have revamped the soundtrack and added something like 22 minutes of edited footage (that they should've left in to begin with) and the majority of the music they added was that of Elvis. Gospel numbers, the original cut of "Mystery Train"....ordinarily, I'd be praising it but for me, it made the soundtrack too busy and cluttered. The parts that were dramatic were somewhat muddled.

I loved this movie when it came out when I was in 8th grade. I saw that thing about 7 times in the theater. The "Greasers" photos plastered my wall. 20 something years later, its an "ok" movie, but, I'm amazed at my memory of minute details of that movie. I loved it.

Matt Dillion is still around, Tom Cruise, unfortunately, is still around; where the heck is Patrick Swayze???? Rob Lowe is perhaps, one of the most beautiful people ever born; I saw C. Thomas Howell aka "Ponyboy" on an episode of ER a month or so ago and my word.....he looks like somebody's Paw Paw now. What happened to him?!?!? He's not a bad actor but he looks RUFF....Where's Ralph Macchio? Haven't seen him since he was one of the YOOTS in "My Cousin Vinny." Sheesh...everyone of these mentioned greasers are middle aged....does that mean I am, too???

14 Years Ago Today.....

I was in what was then known as Westside Hospital (currently The Women's Hospital at Centennial) all hooked up to iv's, waiting for the appearance of my first baby. I remember thinking when I was pushing that "I will never do this again." HA! Did it two more times. I remember the epidural administration was quite traumatic, but, I was thankful for it, and feeling like I was squeezing out something as wide as a watermelon. I'll never forget the look on Terry's face when he looked over to catch the first sight of our little son...a cross between laughing, crying and total bewilderment. Little Tyler Thomas made his way into the world and I was quite happy of my accomplishment.

Tyler was the best baby. Started sleeping all night at 3 weeks old and was the best natured little guy. He was a dream baby. Certainly a gift and diversion from the fact that my father was dying of cancer and quite a blessing that he was able to see the next generation of his family begin. He died on February 19 and we can always gauge how long Dad has been gone exactly by how old Tyler is.

That little baby has grown to about 6 feet already, 180 lbs and size 13 feet. A mop of naturally curly hair adorns his head and he is gifted with the ability to make good grades without ever cracking a book. He has a great, twisted sense of humor and has never been suspended for smarting off to a teacher. He likes to go to church and he is a gifted little writer. He's always been interested in weather and meteorology and the fact that he inherited his grandfather's beautiful broadcasting voice, I would not be surprised if he someday makes his living in television news, either as a meteorologist or journalist. I'm quite proud of my oldest baby.

Happy Birthday dear Tyler.

"Mom, the year is almost over!" Those were the words of my 7 year old son just a few minutes ago. The kid is obsessed with calendars. Loves them. I'm not sure what the allure is for him in the pages. It's not the pictures, but, the actual days. He loves to mark them off. If a calendar comes within his sight, it's his. A cousin of mine from Hawaii sent me a lovely calendar, like she did last year and I used it in my office all year. Trevor found the 2006 calendar and I'm pretty sure I'll never see it again.

We were at the funeral home a couple weeks back for the visitation of a dear lady we used to go to church with. On a table in the foyer, they have their complimentary calendars. You'd have thought Trevor had found a $100 bill on the floor. "A CALENDAR!!!" Sometimes I wonder from whence this child has come from. He's an original, for sure.

I saw my new quarters today. Pleasantly surprised to see I have a window. (Windows are few and far between at Lifeway, even more so for peons such as myself). It's a cubicle, but, an office sort of cube, overlooking scenic 9th Avenue North, the North Wing and a smidgen of the visitor parking lot. Currently, I can gaze out my window and see the Southern Baptist Convention building and have a great earshot of sirens. Today, I saw a couple fighter jets fly over from the Music City Bowl, but, I digress...I was told that they had to relocate someone from this nice little office-ly type cube to somewhere else for me and that she was not happy. GREAT! Love that I've already pissed somebody off and I'm not even there yet. That's just FAB-ulous. I feel good about the move, however, the new boss certainly has a ton to live up to.

My boss that I've had for two years, David, is the ultimate in bosses. After all the crappy bosses I've had in my working career (geez, this year will be 20 years I've been in the workworld) David made up for it. I earned him. NB (New Boss) should be good, although I'm a little nervous about training a new one. Har har.

A memorial service was held at work today for a lovely young woman I did not know well, but, had worked with a little. Killed in a car accident on her way home for the holidays. Every parents nightmare come true right there. They played a beautiful tribute dvd that had been put together with a ton of photos and video of her and there were quite a lot of people there, for it to be a holiday week. That speaks volumes of her life right there. We should all leave such a mark.

The Day After

The kids were quite pleased with what Santa brought. The older two are hip to the Santa thing but he surprised them with their own computers. The soon to be 14 year old is learning that once you get to be his age, you get more stuff you need than what you want. Welcome to being older! Trevor (7 year old) was thrilled with his new guitar. Strum strum strum. I'll be glad when he learns something on it and I'm hoping he doesn't mess with the tuning things and pop the strings off. He announced yesterday afternoon that this was "The best Christmas ever."

We did a lot of nothing all day yesterday. I took a couple naps and we ate Christmas dinner at the China Buffet. I finally watched all of "A Christmas Story" (yes, I know TBS ran it for 24 hours but I never got to see the whole thing) late on video. I found a little piece of trivia that I can't believe got by me....Peter Billingsley, who played "Ralphie" has a small role in another of my favorite Christmastime movies, "Elf"...he plays the supervisor elf. Now that I know that, of COURSE it's Ralphie.

I can't believe the "Nun Bun" has been stolen. On Christmas day, of all things!

We're doing Christmas with my mother and sister today. Sister and family live in Knoxville. They have a new puppy..Dixie, the cockapoo. Can't wait to meet her.

All Is Calm.....

Christmas Eve....I guess this is my most favorite night of the year. Always has been. Everything just looks brighter on Christmas Eve...the lights on the tree, on my new lighted nativity snowglobe my boss gave me for Christmas...everything is twinkling and merry.

Some people though, Christmas this year is sad and they're missing precious people. Gosh, I can name a bunch of friends and family who will have somebody missing from their table this year....my mother, for one, lost her husband on January 6 of this year. My kids, who are 14 and 12, remember the first Christmas he was married to my mother and he called Santa Claus himself and Tyler and Tara, then 4 and 3 talked to him. Well, Tara was too scared to. Charles, who was something of an obsessive compulsive personality, would follow us all around after opening presents with a trash bag to collect the discarded wrapping paper.

The Gossett's, whom we spent many a Christmas Eve with, are missing Bill. I can remember their Christmas tree like it's only been a few days since I saw it. They always had a real tree and those big, old timey lights and a nativity scene underneath the tree. It can't be Christmas Eve without remembering them. Driving home from their house, I can remember always looking up in the sky for Santa.

The Kilgore's are missing Merle this year.....I think of Merle at Christmas because one Christmas, he made my parents breathe a lot easier, knowing there would be some income the year to come. Thank you, Merle.

My Louisiana family are missing their beloved mother, Pat who was my mother's sister. We used to make trips to Louisiana between Christmas and New Years and that's where we'd bring in the new year. One new year that stands out is when we crossed into 1980. That was also the New Year's Eve I slipped on a sleeping bag and nearly busted my noggin. I still have a bump over my left eyebrow as a reminder. Louisiana folks know how to bring in the new year, much more so than we do in Tennessee. Always, tons of fireworks and they are fond of bonfires down in Cajun Country. One year, firetrucks came, sirens clanging, lights flashing because they thought my aunt's house was on fire.

Carl Smith is missing Goldie this Christmas; Arvemia Wilburn is missing Leslie; lots of us missed getting Jimmy Martin's annual Christmas card showing many of the raccoons he killed during the year on various hunting expeditions; The Archer's, who are in my Sunday School class, are missing their son, Jason, who would've been 20 last week and lost a valiant battle with cancer this summer; Bob Johnson is missing Sarah, who just transitioned a week ago tomorrow.

We went to Christmas Eve services earlier this evening. Our wonderful pastor, Glenn Weekley, made his first return to the pulpit following a kidney transplant (his second one, this time the donor was his daughter). Gosh, it was good to see him. He looked a wee bit tired and you could tell that his emotions were high. My 7 year old, Trevor, sang "Hark The Herald Angels Sing" with the congregation at the top of his lungs and with a sincere heart, making his brother and sister giggle with embarassment, but, for me and his dad, it was a precious sight. Wish I'd have had the video camera. At the end of the service, following communion, we all sang "Silent Night", with lit candles. A few thousand people singing this beautiful carol, it was just breathtaking.

I've made our annual sausage balls, queso dip, haystack candy....the boys, including the biggest one, are gathered by the tv watching the Blue Collar Comedy Tour...A few months ago, we didn't think we'd have much Christmas due to less income, but, tonight, there are presents wrapped and under the tree...we're watching the Santa tracker on Norad and he's bringing some neat surprises; Terry has a Grammy nomination, and I start a new full time job the first week of January....all is calm, at least in my home.

Happy Birthday Jesus.

Deck Them Halls

Good Lord and Johnny Cash....I haven't posted anything here since April and here it is..December 17. So much for blogging.

So Christmas Eve is a mere week away, and I am nowhere close to being ready for it. Money's been on the tight side so this year it's going to be one of those years we learn the "Real Meaning of Christmas." There is one present under the tree at this moment, and usually by now there are tons of them. Earlier in my mothering career, I would have been more upset by that, but, I'm really not this year. Why? Last year, I busted my ass trying to make it all perfect for everybody. I shopped til I was blue in the face. Christmas morning, my daughter was disappointed she didn't get as big of a stereo/cd player that her brother got (never mind she got a buttload of presents) then to top it all off, my husband got me NOTHING. I mean, NOTHING. Christmas Eve at 5:30 pm, he says "Lets go get your present." So we go to Radio Shack and they were already closed.

Call me crazy, but, I felt like he could have made a little effort before then. We have a Target that is exactly ONE mile from our driveway and a Kohl's next door to that. So it's not like it would have been hard. After last year, I was so mad at the lack of gratitude on everyone's part, I said that this year everybody was getting one or two things. So, they are.

Gift giving has gotten out of hand anyway. It's the season to remember the birth of Jesus Christ, who came to earth for the sole purpose of dying for our sins. It's not about draining your bank account and Mom's nerves being shot.