Day 46: Righteous

May our lives truly be a perpetual blessing to others.

The memory of the righteous will be a blessing.

PROVERBS 10:7 NIV

My first thought when reading this on my daily desk calendar is how very blessed I am.  When I thought about writing about this reading in my blog post I hesitated.  Was it really as good as I thought?  The problem tripping me up was the word righteous.

For me, negative connotations wrap around the word righteous.  I think of the priests sending Jesus to the cross in righteous indignation.  Images flash through my head of people yelling at those who have different political thoughts then their own.  What I forget, and my husband reminded me of, is that I get righteous mixed with self-righteous.  I cringe at the word and fear people see me as self-righteous.  I don't want to be arrogant and hard of heart.

Of course, my ideas are tainted.  Being righteous is acting in an upright, moral way; virtuous.  I am blessed to know many righteous people.  I should be happy if people see me this way.  However, I would prefer the word virtuous over righteous.  The word is just too close to self-righteous for my comfort.  Thus, I like to change the word in the verse. 

The memory of the virtuous will be a blessing.

My dad and cousin came to mind the very first time I read the verse, before my doubts of the wording derailed me for a moment or two.  These two people mean the world to me.  I miss them terribly since they died.  I would love to call my dad right now.  He would be awake though the sun hasn't risen yet.  We could talk about the game last night.  I could tell him about my day.  We would start plotting our gardens for next spring.  Or I would love to chat with Marie about my writing.  Yesterday, I really needed a bit of encouragement after the loss of my 1,000 words. 

But, I am blessed.  The memories of their words and love live within me.  I am consistently reminded of them with each thought I have of the past.  I feel the love.  I spent quality time with them that resonates with the person I am today and will be tomorrow, for the rest of my life.  And on this last day of November, I am thankful for this best of blessings.

Day 45: Technology

What modern technological device takes up most of your time?

I have a kindle, cell phone, laptop, and computer.  I honestly am not sure which takes up most of my time.  The laptop is for traveling and going to the coffee shop and occasionally I use it at home to take a break from my computer.  I think my time is divided pretty much between the cell phone, kindle and computer. I spend a good two to four hours on my computer. I work on my writing, publishing, editing, research, and learning here.  With my phone, I do play a few games, look up random things, use audible, Spotify, and my kindle app.  Oh, and I Marco Polo with my sister.  The kindle is pretty much for reading novels.  I read everyday.  My weekly goal is an addition five hours which doesn't count my before bed reading.

At my Bible Study last night, we talked about addictions.  People are addicted to their technology.  I know I walk a fine line with my own devices.  I fall off the line on the side of slight addition.  However, I love to unplug.  When I travel with family, sure I have the kindle (this one is kind of hard to count because I think reading is always acceptable and never an addiction), I usually only touch the laptop when everyone is still sleeping in the morning or getting ready.  My phone could probably stand to be left in my pocket a little more often.

Day 44: Needs

What do you need right now?

Day One

I need peace.  I need the roar of the world to be put on mute.  Hell, I would be happy if some of the people around me were put on mute.  I need people to quit draining me of my life force.

Day Two

Okay, I probably can’t write that!

I need healing for my daughter.  She has come leaps and bounds. She may have come as far as she will ever get.  I have no idea. But I long for our life to be level in the mental illness aspect of life. 

I also need my physical health to get better.  I am tired of hurting and tired of being tired.

The reality is that I won’t get what I need, at least not in the near future.  Instead, I need to find more patience, more acceptance. I need to rest. I need to back off on the expectations I have in establishing a writing career.  I need to accept the limits of others. I need to rely on my faith.

Day Three

Some of the writing prompts in my notebook stretch my core self.  When I first read this prompt, I thought that I didn’t need anything.  Life is good. I left the answer blank. The next time I read the words, I had a horrible couple days.  My response shows my darker side. The second time trying to answer the prompt, I tried to bring myself back to my normal self.

Today, as I read through the first two attempts, I saw value in sharing both of them.  Now, I am close to my positive outlook on life. Yesterday, I went to my first therapy session since the day my dad died.  I need a little help with anger management and the above issues. My therapist asked what I needed. If I knew that, I would do it myself and wouldn’t have to pay her.  She laughed. We agreed to meet for a while until we can figure it out together.

Day 43: Lifetime Achievement Award

It is the end of your life and you are up on stage being presented with a major award.  What award is it, and what have you won it for? 

I walk up the stairs, holding on to the railing.  No, I won't have to hold onto the railing.  I will be cured of everything for I will be in Heaven.  My family and friends are sitting in the audience.  My mentors stand in a line to shake my hand or give me hugs as I walk to the center of the stage.  My dad will be standing there to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He hands me a bronze statue of a falcon.  Or maybe, he will hand me the cross I have been carrying all my life on Earth.

“It’ll do,” he says with pride.

The award?  It will be called the Lisa Madelle Nixon Richard Norwegian Redneck Author award.  I will have won the award for being the best version of me.

Day 42: Logic

Have you ever experienced something that just could not be logically explained?

Many people work hard at logically explaining faith filled moments to be a coincidence or a person’s imagination.  Maybe they are right. I have a pretty vivid imagination, but I choose to think of these beautiful events as Holy Moments.  I have talked about this topic before when I read about Holy Moments when reading a book by Matthew Kelly. He talked about the little moments.  Today, I will talk about a big moment.

While my husband served in Iraq, life was rough.  I spent a lot of hours on the treadmill getting rid of my anger from the deplorable attitude of a few people.  One day, the treadmill didn’t help. My soul hurt. I left work at the regular hour. Once I got into my pickup, I cried. And cried. I remember driving up Head Lane. 

“I am so mad at You,” I said through the tears to Jesus.

No, there was no bombing voice from above.  In fact, there was nothing.

“You have gotten me into this.  I want You here right now.”

The cab of my pickup grew comfortably warm.  A warmth like a loved one holding you during a crisis.  The presence in my vehicle was so real that I turned to the passenger seat with the belief Jesus would be there in body.  He wasn’t. But no logic in the world will convince me that He wasn’t there in spirit. I reached my hand out. I didn’t feel a grasp, but I was comforted.

I have felt the Holy Spirit before, in fact a lot.  I know Jesus is with me. This was different. This was the one and only time that I know He was right there.  I can’t explain it beyond that.

Day 41: Robin Hood

A few months back, I saw the trailer to the new Robin Hood movie.  I love Robin Hood.  My introduction to the legend is sketchy.  I don't remember if I read about it in British Lit or if I saw the old Errol Flynn movie.  Jerry just thinks it comes from my obsession with all things British.  Maybe.  Can I help that I took a full year of both British lit and history?  Or that my family comes from York, England?  Or that I traveled all over the island and long to go back?

The second time I saw the trailer, I became nervous.  Something seemed off.  The rest of the time when the teasers showed, I ignored them.  I had to see the film.  Well, we went yesterday afternoon.  My instincts proved true.  I should have listened to them.  I hated the movie.

My belief in literature is that one piece, like Robin Hood, speaks many truths and can have many interpretations.  I am not a purest.  I like to see what other artists will do with a work.  Years ago, A Knight's Tale hit the big screen.  A friend of mine loved the movie, but recommended I didn't see it.  She knew my love of history and felt the anachronisms would cause me to hate the movie.  Sure, the film was not at all historically accurate, but I loved the directors interpretation for our modern world.  I suspended my belief and enjoyed the movie for arts sake.

I tried really hard with this movie to do the same.  At one point, I worried that I was becoming an old curmudgeon, hating the modern form.  I looked past the inaccurate clothing.  I actually loved the steampunk weapons they used.  They were wicked cool.  The action scenes were great.  I enjoyed what they did with Little John, to some extent, and Will Scarlet.  That is where it ended. 

I hated Marian.  The woman can't act to save her life.  In the first scene, the lower part of her face was veiled.  Her eyes were stunning.  They should have kept her face veiled the rest of the movie.  Though the mining area was grungy, she sported a beautiful, pure white crocheted dress.  Ya, that was possible! 

I also struggled with them making Robin Hood a traitor, John the mastermind, and the current political one-sided theme that prevailed over the movie.  The political part left me feeling like I was being yelled at, just like I feel in this political climate we live in today.  Oh, and I didn't appreciate the religious stuff either.  I admit the Catholic church has corruption, but it also has authenticity in faith.  That wasn't represented at all.

The movie left the door open for a sequel.  I shudder at the thought.  Will we go to that at the theater?  I won't be able to get Jerry there at all.  I will probably watch it on DVD.  I would like to see how Will plays out.  Jamie Foxx did a great job acting, though I did struggle with his storyline.  I would also like to see what they do with Friar Tuck.  I loved him at the beginning, but his attitude ticked me off at the end.  The writer's could redeem him later, though I doubt they will.

Now, I am sure there are those who loved the movie.  I am glad.  As I said earlier, everyone has the right to their interpretation.  I didn't care for it.  Kevin Reynold's and Kevin Costner's adaptation will continue to be my favorite.

Day 40: Putting a Pet Down

Have you ever had the rotten experience of having to put a pet down?

Growing up, my dad told stories about putting down pets on their small farm on the Kootenai River.  They didn’t have the luxury of taking their animals to the vet. Every fall, we hunted for deer and elk.  Death never bothered me when it came to animals. I learned early about the cycle of life.

My sophomore or junior year, my dog, Daisy, somehow escaped out of our fenced year.  I ran after her, but a pack of dogs found her first. They attacked with a vicious abandon.  They shredded her up. Dad drove to the vet while I held her in my lap. Anguish and anger filled me.  The vet examined her right away with grim news.

“I can save her, but the expense will be high,” he told my dad and nervously looked over at me with sympathy.

Dad looked at me, giving me the nod to say what I thought.

“What will her quality of life be?” I asked, already knowing.

His response has left my memory, but as I suspected, Daisy would remain in pain the rest of her life.

“The decision is yours,” my dad stated.

Though a family pet, Daisy and I shared a special bond.  She followed me everywhere. Every night, she slept on my bed.  I adored her, and she adored me. I didn't want to see her in pain for years.  Mom and Dad couldn't afford the expense.  The choice, though hard, was simple.  With tears in my eyes, I told the vet she needed to be put down.  He would take care of it.

“I want to be with her.”

Dad nodded when the vet looked over at him with surprise.  "Do you want me to stay with you?" he asked.

"No, I will be okay."

The process took no time at all.  The vet injected Daisy with something while I kept my hands on her body.  He left the room. I held one of her paws and stroked her head. I stayed a little longer after her last breath.  Though sad, I took comfort in being able to say good-bye, to give her love on her journey.

Day 39: Born to Shine

Were you born to shine in one special way?  What makes you really stand out?

In a world that loves to knock us down and promotes perfect, a person can struggle with seeing themselves shine in a special way.  As an average person, we aren't taught to see the beauty within us.

Ninety percent of the time I feel there is nothing shiny about me.  I mean, I am a normal, average person. I have never received straight A’s.  Popularity never followed me. Sports, I never excelled at any sports though I did enjoy participating.  In college, I failed some classes because of working. With the military, I was never a great soldier. I did my job.  I will say that I was one of the better finance NCOs in Montana. I am a writer. In the past four years, I have written and published four novels.  Monetarily, I am not doing well with this endeavor.  As a Mom, I always done my best, but I made mistakes.  I have driven my husband nuts, but luckily he knows that is part of marriage.  I haven’t been the best daughter or sister. I have always done what I felt was right with all the knowledge I had at the time.

Now ten percent of the time, when the stars a line and I feel the top of my game, I do feel shiny.  When my daughter says she loves me or I get a call from one of my sons just to say "Hi," I am reminded I am a good Mom.  Long conversations with my husband and fun trips with him, reminds me that I am a pretty good wife. When I read one of my well written scenes, I know I have a chance to break out in writing.  And when I am close to God and give him all my worries and suffering, I know I am shining his love through me. I was born to shine His light. When I am completely open to the light, I know I stand out.

Day 38: Thankful for a Needle

Since I can remember, I have hated taken medicine.  I would rather have a headache then take a pill. And vitamins, no!!!  In the last eight to ten years, I have become pretty good at the pills.  I am on four different pill prescriptions, take vitamin D, and Estroven. Uff da.  I have learned that having to give myself shoots is a hundred times worse.

For about three to four years, I had to give myself a shot of methotrexate once a week.  I got to the point where alcohol, the rubbing kind, made me sick to my stomach by the smell.  I had to change to hydrogen peroxide. Even then, my stomach would get messed up just from the shot.  And I wasn’t the best customer. Usually, I am pretty easy going and don’t mind switching things up. However, I made my pharmacy continue to stock my favorite needle.  I think I was the only one using it. I didn’t care. The other needles hurt worse and the one I used was bad enough.  I didn’t throw a fit about the needle, but I am sure they could see I was on the edge.

A little over a year ago or so, I asked my doctor if we had other options.  She complied by putting me on Avara in the pill form. Failure. I have not been doing well, okay, but not well.  I need something stronger.

For three months, I have been working the process to get onto Humira.  The prefilled needles arrived on Tuesday. I dreaded the process, even though I am so ready to feel good again.  I thought I would start after Thanksgiving. My nurse ambassador called later after the meds showed up and I figured I probably shouldn’t procrastinate on starting.  I told her she could call me yesterday at 1:00.

Well, I think my fear is stupid.  My dad would give me grief about my attitude.  He was right, but I still complained.  I can give myself a shot and really don’t need anyone holding my hand on the phone or in person.  I did all the reading of the instructions. Simple process with the pen. Well, come to find out, the pharmacy didn’t send the pen.  They sent the needle.  Crap!!!

I spent a nervous 20 minutes waiting for the medicine to warm up.  Then I just went for it. I am happy to say that the needle is a good 50 times smaller then the one I had to use from Shopko.  The process was easy!!! I am so happy and thankful. Now, I just hope it starts working.

Day 37: Commons 1882

This past weekend we traveled to Billings.  The memories are plentiful. Jerry was telling Madelle a story that I have long forgotten.  When we first married, we were extremely poor. We would write a check one day and have to take a paycheck into the bank the next day to not bounce the original check.  Jerry did most of the banking because I was just too stressed.

Next to the bank was an old Victorian style house that had been turned into a restaurant.  He would smell all the delicious aromas. We were living off of Roman noodle and popcorn. If we were feeling a little rich, we would have tuna fish sandwiches.  He swore that someday he would go back and eat there. He told her the story while we ate dinner at the Wild Ginger. No, he hasn’t been to the other restaurant, but he knows he can. 

The next morning, we looked over the city while eating breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant on the 20th floor.  The house by our old bank is still standing. I just looked it up on the internet and it is now called Commons 1882.  I am thinking this next summer we should take a road trip and finally have that fancy dinner.

Day 36: Sweet, Snarky, Sixteen

Time has flown by since the last time I wrote about Madelle.  A lot of things have happened, both good and challenging. Last week, the poor kid had to deal with her mother after we had a therapy session together.  The blow up was both of our faults. For a year and three months, we were with each other twenty-four seven. Sure we hired a woman to stay with her one weekend.  Clay was a dear and took her to Bozeman when we traveled to West Virginia. I have taken a day here or there. But where most parents have those beautiful eight hours a day for school and social events for their darlings, we have had nothing.  The situation has taken a toll on both of us.

Madelle still isn’t going to school fulltime.  She goes from 8-11. She has been blossoming, though the days are taxing for her.  The program she is in keeps the kids from speaking to each other. She continues to be very lonely.  All but one of her friends has pulled away from her. We hope she gets into the fulltime program at the semester and can start interacting with her peers.  She wants me to fill the void which gets us into a lot of trouble. But, hopefully two more months will find our situation better.

As for the blossoming, the teachers say she is doing wonderful.  Because she is ahead, hasn’t missed school, and is reliable (a few of the kids are discipline problems), one of the teachers has invited her to work with Toys For Tots for four to five days, for five hours a day.  She will get to work with at least three other students. I am hoping the four of them do well and can all start the semester in the next class. She needs more friendships.

The other day, one of the teachers teased her.  He told her she needed to start getting some of her problems wrong.  She is doing everything they can toss her way including all the extra credit.  She has a 106%. To say I am proud of her, would be an understatement.

Today, my baby turns sixteen.  I would say sweet, but there is also some snarky in there as well.  She wanted to celebrate with her grandpa, so we went to Billings over the weekend.  Grandpa can’t talk but he beamed when we sang her Happy Birthday. We gave her a St. Joan statue.  “Please, St. Joan, pray for our girl to have a warrior spirit in her battles with mental illness.” Grandpa also gobbled up his coconut cupcake.

Tonight we celebrate with family game night.  Her friend can’t come. However, one or two young men she considers her big adopted brothers will be over along with an adopted sister she adores.  These three have helped her by sticking by her side through thick and thin.

Happy Sweet, Snarky Sixteenth Birthday, my Madelle Antoinette!!!

Day 35: Anger

I hate mental illness.  Sure, no one would ever say they love it, but some days, I get so angry from all the shit that goes with mental illness.  Last week, I started having problems with my mental health. I became so angry. The feeling consumed me to the point I couldn’t think of anything to say.  When I did, all I wanted to say was the f-word. I did fling the word at one loved one. I had enough.

Mental illness isn’t new to my world.  I have been around issues all my life. Fortunately, most of the situations were in the peripheral.  I have struggled with a little post partum depression, panic attacks when my husband was in Iraq, and twice in my life I felt the world close in around me.  I guess that wasn’t so secondary. When my husband came home from Iraq, PTSD became a huge part of our life. We faced the situation.  My husband worked hard and I worked through my own stuff.  Life resumed a new normal.

In the last four years, mental illness has affected more family members in either rearing its head for the first time or getting worse.  I went for my own therapy a little over three years ago during the summer to deal with them. The next summer I went to one session during a huge crisis.  I haven’t seen my therapist in two years. Well, obviously I need to start up again. Apparently, I have been stuffing my emotions into a tight, huge ball that has popped. 

At the moment, I don’t want to talk about the details.  I am also angry at all the people who haven’t a clue and love to give advice or theories.  I could blow at anyone at this point. I have called my therapist and set up an appointment.  I can’t be this angry.

Day 34: Childrens' Book

If I were a children's book writer, this might be the start of a new book.

The sun sparkled off the tin roofs of the three shacks standing in a row at the bottom of the hill.  Lisa chased after the two boys, trying to be careful not to trip and fall down the path. In frustration, the distance between them grew.  She ran slow, even though she was older by a year then the smaller boy.

Actually, this is a terrible start to a children’s book.  The reading level is too high. I would have to do a little studying to work on better sentence structure for a children’s book.  I am not versed in this art form. I have always thought it would be fun to write a series of books like the Little House on the Prairie books.  Someday, the children of tomorrow would like to know about how life was for the children of the late 70’s. The sentences above come from any number of days that I spent out at the Omoksee grounds.  I have very fond memories of that time. Maybe someday, I will write down the stories.

Day 33: A Small Family

For the first nine years of my life, I was an only child.  I have to say that I hated being the only. Life was very lonely.  I had no one to play with during the long days. My mother didn’t let me play with the neighborhood kids very often.  I delighted in going out to Glen Lake to be with the older Butts kids. I loved all the activity of the five children.  I was three years younger then their youngest, so that could be difficult at times. I also loved when my dad did things with Big Dale.  His son and I went on all sorts of adventures.

When my baby sister arrived, my plight didn’t change.  Well, I became busier changing her diapers and watching her.  This wasn’t the answer to my loneliness. My daydream for more siblings continued.  I would love to have a few more siblings between my sister and I. The plus side is that I learned to tell stories in my head to keep me occupied.  I also learned the love of reading. Still, I would love to have the holidays filled with tons of siblings, their spouses, and lots of nieces and nephews.

Day 32: The Fridge

In I looked into your fridge right now, what would I find?

Wow, instinctively, I feel an invasion of privacy by this question.  I am reminded of the Disney cartoon movie, “Beauty and the Beast”.  The wardrobe opens her doors and moths fly out.  She shuts the doors in shame and says, “oh, my,” with an embarrassed giggle.  I feel the same way.  I found an old moldy peach.  Plus, the shelves need to be washed and some vegetable consumed if they aren’t rubbery at this point. “Oh, my.”  The one good thing about looking into the cavern is that it reminded me the dumpster needs to go to the curb this morning.

Day 31: A Regret

   In the past three years, I have lost a lot of family members.  I loved to listen to their stories.  I have spent many hours sitting at tables enjoying the sound of all the voices of my elders chatting.  I wish that I had thought to write the stories down.  I don’t know that I would ever write a collection of family stories.  I fear I wouldn’t do my loved ones justice.  However, I like the idea and someday I may have the courage to write the stories.

Day 30: The Wind

Some of these writing prompts make me shake my head.  I think a druid wrote this idea down.  “You are the wind’s interpreter.  What is it saying?”

My first instinct is to say that it is pissed off.  In Wolf Point, the wind was terrible. The temperature goes down a good 20 to 30 degrees and it howls as if in pain.  I don’t think Helena has winds as bad, but just the same, I don’t like the wind here either.

In Helena, we get some strong gusts in the spring and fall that work at tearing tiles off the roofs in the valley.  One spring, it tore a third of my chokecherry tree down in a microburst that hit the neighbors yard with more destruction.  It actually tore a big tree up by its roots. We can have a day or two of solid wind when I think the wind wants me to drive me insane.  Of course, in the winter, the wind likes to be spiteful and stay away leaving an inversion in the valley that lasts for weeks. I pray for the dreaded wind then to release us from our dreary prison and let us see the sun again. 

So, I guess I would say that the wind loves to make peoples’ lives miserable and has nothing nice to say at all.

Day 29: Exasperation

At the beginning of my rheumatoid arthritis journey, I learned quickly that the medical world can take up a ton of time.  I felt like all I did was go to the doctor’s office.  After my pain stabilized, I boycotted doctor’s and only went when absolutely necessary.  Turning fifty, I decided I should do some of the pesky tasks my general practitioner suggested.  Well, my rheumatologist also has up some of my appointments and medicine.  This fall, all I have been doing is going to the doctor. 

Yesterday, I had to go for a bone density test.  All in all, the appointment was easy compared to the colonoscopy a couple of weeks ago.  I had to smile though as they ran the test.  I felt like I was in an episode of Star Trek.  I laid on a table.  Off to the side, a big arm came up from the floor and curved up and over the table about four feet above me.  The arm moved taking a picture of my hip and then my back.  The test took thirty minutes and with drive time, it wasted a little over an hour of my time.  Really, not all that bad, but add it to everything else this fall and Uff Da!!!

All of this year, my pain has increased, so my arthritis doctor is working at getting me on a new med.  What a pain!  I have been working at getting this issue resolved since the middle of September, two months!!!  If this was life and death, I wouldn’t be around to write this blog.  The medicine has to be shipped to me.  Crazy.  And really, the medicine is pricey.  Four two shots a month and a two-month prescription, the total is $4,800.  I thank God that we have insurance.  However, it is taking an act of Congress just to get the stuff to me.  I finally got a call from the pharmacy last night.  The conversation started with a computer.  Once I answered a few questions, they put me on hold.  Seriously???  We were on our way out to go watch the game with my 49ers.  Twenty minutes later while sitting in the truck, I finally talked to a real person.  I was a little pissy to say the least.  The call took thirty minutes in total.  That was as long as my bone density test.  Oh, and here is the start of the conversation with the real person.

“How can we help you?” Ashley asked politely.

“You called me!!!” Yes, I was a little exasperated.  They were interrupting with the first minutes of the football game.  Yet, I couldn’t wait any longer or it might be another two blasted months.  Annoying as hell!!!

Man, you have to be tough as nails and patient the older you get.  Oh, and have a lot of time to put into this old age crap!!!

Day 28: A Formula

Montana + Travel = Exhaustion

This weekend I drove to Libby, the place I spent my high school years.  Well, I spent other years and summers there as well.  My family comes from the area.  I love the mountains, rivers, and lakes.  Exhaustion does hit, due to the very long drive.  On a good day with no breaks, I could get there in four and a half hours.  However, my truck always needs more gas, and I need bathroom and stretch breaks.  The trip usually takes five hours.  Coming home, my sister and I traveled together.  I followed her to Missoula.  We stopped for our last meal together.  This added another hour.  I will say though that we lucked out.  Traveling in the fall through spring, the trip can take a much longer amount of time because of road conditions.  We only hit a bad fifteen mile stretch north of Missoula where we went our separate ways.  I slowed down on the snow covered pass which takes me down into Helena.  But all in all, the drive went well.  I am tired this morning.

Day 27: Excess Over Moderation

Hands down, the hardest area of my life to live in moderation is with food.  I love food. All of my life, I have struggled with eating. Now, I am very fortunate that I have never been anorexic or bulimic.  However, I have been overweight a lot of my life. The condition has become worse with my medical issues. Yes, this is an excuse. There are skinny people with the same issues.  I am happy for them. But the fact of the matter is that I can no longer run or bike at the intensity I once did before the issues. I know I need to just cut back. I suck at it.  What more is there to say?

Day 26: Stupid Questions

Of my three children, the middle one asked questions all the time.  When he was in fourth grade, Jerry was deployed to Iraq. I no longer had the luxury to send him to his dad.  He didn’t have the luxury to ask the more patient parent all his questions. Finally one day, I just couldn’t take it any longer.  He and I sat down and discussed questions. I wanted him to learn to be observant and find the answer on his own questions. I told him he had five questions a day, no more.  A day or two later, he came into the kitchen. Tomato sauce, hamburger, and spices were simmering on the back burner. A big pot of water was boiling. I was putting angel hair pasta in the pot. 

“What’s for dinner?” he
asked as he walked through the kitchen.

“Clay, do you really
want to use a question up for that?  Look!
What does it look like dinner is?”

“Oh, spaghetti.”

I never told him it was
a stupid question.  But, he caught the
hint. He also learned to be more observant. The questions didn’t stop, but they became a lot less. Being a single
parent became a little more tolerable.  Best
of all, we both made it through the deployment!

Day 25: Phobias

Heights are a huge phobia that I have had all of my life.  When I was young, friends of ours were adding on to their house.  I want to say they were putting a basement under their two story house by Glen Lake, but my memory is fuzzy on the details.  My dad climbed a ladder, and I wanted to go with him. He said I could follow. I got stuck halfway up. Being a patient father, he helped me the rest of the way up, so I could sit on the roof.  I did fine with the sturdy construction under me, but as soon as I had to step off the roof, the fear overtook me. Now this same house had a ladder to get to the top floor where the kids' bedrooms were. Many times my stomach knotted when going up when I spent the night.  I would wait until the last possible minute to come down in the morning. Yes, heights are a deep phobia from long ago.

When I left home for college, I traveled back and forth from Billings to Libby for Christmas and Thanksgiving, a nine hour trip if the roads were good.  After I married, we switched it every other holiday to drive to Wolf Point, a four to five hour trip. When we moved to Wolf Point when my husband received a teaching job, I drove to Billing every month for drill.  There were some close calls, but the worst thing to happen was us going into the ditch once. No big deal, until the year my sister-in-law died in a snow storm in Minnesota. Her college van with twelve girls clipped a snowplow.  The van flipped around and was hit by a bus. Her and five other girls died at the scene. I was in Billings when I received the news. I almost left that night to get home to the family, but my father-in-law said no. He didn’t want his other girl on the road.  I don’t remember fearing anything that trip. However, after that terrible time, I have had a phobia of traveling on winter roads. I make everyone miserable with me in the vehicle. I try to hide in the back of the vehicle we are in saying Hail Mary's over and over. I know the fear is stupid. My husband is a good driver.  Hell, I am a good driver. But, I can’t get past the knot in my stomach as I pray. And I talk to my sister-in-law asking her to pray with me.

Day 24: Nervous Nellie, Lost

I am a nervous Nellie when I travel on my own to places I am not familiar with.  Now, I can travel all over Montana with no problems. Really, traveling in my car anywhere is a breeze.  I do skip the big cities though. But put me on a plane, and my stomach rolls.

Going to Vegas this last month was the first time I flew on my own in nine years.  I didn’t do well with the Vegas airport. I talked about how I went to the wrong terminal to get my luggage.  But, I didn’t imagine I would struggle finding my flight to get home.

I arrived at the airport about five hours early.  I had chosen a later flight to be able to go to the last class that morning.  I had my laptop and kindle ready to do a bunch of work while I waited. The Uber dropped me off.  I chatted with the nice lady at the counter to drop off my luggage. She directed me to security. I knew once I got through security my butterflies would fly away.  Security was quick and painless. I felt good.

I found where my flight was supposed to be in terminal C.  I wondered around and found the gate. I double checked the board.  Southwest. Are you kidding? I was flying Delta. How did I mess it up again?  The butterflies were back. I walked all the way back to A. Nothing. I saw no signs for Delta or terminal D.  I had to ask for directions. Back to C. Uff da! The stupid sign was off to the right behind a restaurant. Ridiculous. 

I found where I need to be with plenty of time.  I still can’t believe I got lost twice in one week in the same airport.  It has taught me a lesson. I need to travel more!!!

Day 23: Audible

I finally did it.  I downloaded the Audible app on my phone.  For months, I have been listening to my son talk about all the books he listens to on his account.  He works in sterilization at the hospital during the graveyard shift.  When he works the shift on his own, he has eight hours of listening time while he works.  Over all this time, he has come to enjoy specific voice actors and will book a book that the actor has recorded.  I have been fascinated by this.  At Miscon, I listened to a panel about audio books, and in Vegas, they did a panel as well.  Audio books are a growing outlet for books.  Fascinating. 

As I perused the store, I clicked on a couple books that I have been thinking of buying on my kindle.  I was shocked by the price of a book.  I looked at the book “Before They Were Yours.”  Regular price is 35.00, and the Member Price is 24.50.  Wow!  I ended up getting Orphan Train at what I thought was $13.00, but that was the member price.  I am not sure if I am a member.  I am using Jerry’s account.  This could grow into an expensive habit.

Now, I shouldn’t be surprised by the price.  I investigated putting my own books into Audible in May after Miscon.  Sure, I could read my book or Jerry could.  He has a great voice, but he only has one real voice.  Knowing Clay has become a fan of the actors he has listened to, I really need to hire someone that will do the book justice.  To do the project right with a good voice actor, I believe it would cost up to $5,000.  Ouch.  Considering I am not even making triple digits, that is not an option.  I must be patient with this project!!! 

I will say that I love the book so far.  Originally, I was worried that I would fall asleep from just listening.  I didn’t.  Still, I won’t be listening when I go to bed.  Finding where I fell asleep would be a pain.  Anyway, I spent a wonderful hour listening to the story unfold.  The actor even has a beautiful Irish accent for the old woman when she was a child.  Brilliant.  I am loving this form of literature.  In fact, I can’t wait to get back to the story later today.

Day 22: Campaign Ads and Cold Air

Today I debated the topic for my post.  I just started a class this morning, but I would like to get a little further in my assignment before I talk about this topic.  I played around with the idea of election day, but everyone will be writing about this.  The weather is turning cold which could be another topic.  Oh, the choices.  I opened my blog and the opening sentence made me smile from yesterday.  I talked about the best part of fall.  Well, I am here to tell you about the worst part of fall.

Campaign advertisements and cold air, I hate both!!!

Now, I will say that I love to vote.  This hasn't always been the case.  In my younger years, I was so busy running kids, working, and life stuff, that I resented one more thing to accomplish in the day.  Since I have retired and work from home, I love to go to the Fair Grounds.  The energy is uplifting and I usually see people I know.  It is like a party on a Tuesday!  This year was a bit of a disappointment.  I didn't see a soul who I know.  Oh well.

However, I hate, hate, hate the advertisements.  I feel like I need to take a shower at night just to get all the sliminess off of me.  Here in Montana, Jon Tester says how wonderful he is and disparages Rosendale.  Flip the coin, Matt Rosendale does the same blasted thing.  By the time November hits, I hate both of them. 

Next, we have cold air.  As I rushed home after saying good-bye to my walking partner, my legs were frozen.  The wind was whipping snow in my face.  The beagle wanted to sniff everything and I was growling at him to hurry up.  The transition from warm weather to cold weather kills me.  My joints and muscles ache.  And I can't do anything to keep myself warm.  Believe it or not, I look forward to -10 degrees with a wind chill factor.  Then on the days when it warms up to zero, I feel nice and toasty warm.  I think I need to go dig out the long johns!

Day 21: Football and Military

The best part of fall for me is football.  I love the lazy days of Sundays when I can turn on a game.  Better yet, I enjoy going somewhere to watch with my husband and military friends.  Yesterday, we were joined later in the day when drill released for the weekend by a dear friend and his buddy.

I love being around military guys.  We laugh and enjoy being together.  We reminisce over the old days, telling stories.  We discuss the politics of being veterans of either twenty years of service and/or of foreign wars.  And we talk football.  There is something comfortable about being around these people, my people.  I miss them now that I am retired.  I am glad Jerry is still in and we are still connected.  I am also thankful that the guys he went to Iraq with have graciously included me in their activities.  They recognize the struggles I went through at home, though very different from their struggles.  I don’t want to lose that.  In fact, it is one of the reasons I don’t want to leave Helena.  I love the military community we have built.

Day Twenty: New Names

Biliinneete

Crow for Stillwater River

Some of the writing prompts in my notebook make me shake my head.  Granted, some writers might like the topic, but I find them odd.  I haven't any idea what to say to them.  I was thinking I could just skip them, but I really hate when I don't accomplish something in a book.  If there is a blank space, it must be filled.  Today I will attempt one of the prompts I don't really like.

Give your city (or town or region) a new name that reflects what type of place it is, and explain why you chose that name.  Ugh.  Really?  I love the name Helena.  I look at the St. Helena Cathedral and I believe it to be the best of names.  I can't think of anything better.  As for my state?  Montana means mountain and that is so appropriate for this side of the state.  Which thinking about it, the name only reflects half the state.

This morning a couple of ideas came to mind for Helena.  Every year, the city celebrates its past by having a parade through town called the Vigilante Parade.  Vigilante could be a good name for our town.  Or maybe Last Chance.  The area was discovered by four Georgians that were looking for gold.  They hadn't found any and decided our gulch that runs through town was their last chance to find any before going back home.  The rest is history.  Vigilante, Montana?  Last Chance, Montana?  I kind of like Last Chance. 

Now, what would be a better name for the state?  I love that we are called Big Sky.  But again, that seems to mainly work for the Eastern side of the state while Montana works for the Western side.  What name incorporates both?  Montana was homesteaded by strong people with grit.  However, the people here before have a rich culture of spirit.  Why we have a Spanish name is beyond me.  I looked up a few Cheyenne and Crow words.  They are impossible for me to pronounce.  However, I do like the word Xaxxe which means golden eagle in the Crow language.  These beautiful birds connect both sides of our state.  Or, we love our rivers.  Alasahte means fork in the river.  That is kind of cool too.

So, Last Chance, Xaxxe.  Last Chance, Alasahte.  Hum, I read the words and nothing comes to mind.  I think Helena, Montana will stay.