A Spider Called Jane

Last evening I was minding my own business, cruising down Rt 219 on my way to work, when a spider appears on my steering wheel. One second...nothing...the next second there is a small, but noticebly hairy, black spider gazing at me.

"Don't panic" is what I am telling myself as I am looking for a place to pull over; it was all I could do not to slam on the brakes and jump into the back seat.

I do not like spiders. I don't care what the book "Be Nice to Spiders" says. That spider was cute, this one was not. The only spider I have ever liked is Charlotte, the beloved gray spider that befriended the pig Wilber. Unless one of the little (or big) creatures spells a message out for me in their web, it cannot live in my car.

I managed to get the car pulled over and I wanted to jump out of my car and run wildly around it to make sure there were no spiders lurking on my personal being. I didn't though; instead I tried to squash the spider who was dangling from the steering column, dangerously close to my legs.

I missed.

She (it looked like a girl) got away. Under my seat. Oh, now that's just great.

Have I menttioned that I don't care for spiders?

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, me and my sister, Roxie, were going to play in the field next to our house. We crawled under the fence and when I stood up, I felt something prickly against my leg. I was wearing a skirt, so I picked it up and looked. There, on the inside of my skirt, clinging to the fabric, was a spider that had a body the size of a half-dollar. That was not including the legs, which it had tucked neatly underneath itself. Oh, and it was definitely hairy.

I showed Roxie, and our voices lowered to a whisper as we discussed what to do with the spider. I was so afraid that it would start to walk, I mean creep, and it would get on me, more than it already was. Roxie refused to get a stick and coax the spider off, and I couldn't because I had to use both hands to hold my skirt up in the air and away from my body as best as I could. We eventually decided to walk, very slowly so as not to disturb the creature, to the house, where we were sure our mother would take care of the spider.

After long tortuous minutes, we reached the house, and just as we went to open the door, the spider uncurled it long legs which arched up around its fat body. They were hairy too. All thought of caution was abandoned and I began to scream, jumping and waving my skirt up and down wildly. Any thought of being lady-like was also abandoned. The spider fell to the ground with a thud, and disappeared, scurrying into the rocks.

I don't like spiders, but I know they are necessary for balance in nature. The problem is my fear. I need to learn to deal with the fear, so I don't let it control me. What if I decided to never go in my car again? What if I lived in constant fear of the next spider?

All fears are similar really in how they can affect us. I tend to get angry when I am afraid as a way of dealing with it. It doesn't make sense, but it is how I am. Some people run or try to hide, while others try to deny it.

When I am afraid, and not just of spiders, I need to keep focused on God, the Creator of all things, including me.

"The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8


"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged; for the Lord your God with be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9.


So, tonight as I head back to work, I will get back in my car, with the spider. I think I'll call her Jane. 


Love,
Dianne

Love is More Than a Rice Krispy Treat

I am turning into quite the domestic diva. Yesterday, it was bread. Today it is Peanut Butter Pie.
My birthday men celebrate their days March 28th and March 30th. I work all weekend, so tonight is the night to celebrate Aaron's 19th milestone. His request was PB pie and something seafood related.

Not mixed together of course, but definitely in that order.

I even made homemade pie crust, which could've been awesome, if I would have only just set the timer on the oven. It may have gotten a little over-done. Maybe "domestic diva" isn't quite right; I think it's more like "doom-estic diva".

The pies are in the fridge just chillin' now, cause that's what pies do best. I need to run to the store to get some whipped cream and ingredients for the seafood scampi.

I'm off...

 ..and I'm back. Success at Food Lion! Supper is cooking and the family is gathering home for the evening.

The seafood pasta dish is scrumptious and goes well with the tossed salad and bread.

Now that was some serious eating. 

But, we weren't done yet...

 As per Aaron's request...Peanut Butter Pie. I figured he deserved it seeing as how one year, a few years ago, I made him a cake...kinda.

I was probably crazy busy with the final semester of nursing school and when his birthday rolled around, he got the most awesomest, wonderful, tasty...

Rice Krispy Treat

At the time, I didn't notice his crestfallen face, or the slump in his shoulders, but last year, the truth came out. Aaron will always have that memory of getting a pan of Rice Krispy Treats for his "birthday cake" because I was busy. He says that now he understands, but at the time, it just seemed weird and wrong. Now, we joke around about it, and laugh, but for me, it was an eye opener. 

I do tend to get too busy with life, and with work and sometimes I let my family slip to the back burner. Sometimes it takes an effort to keep them as top priority (or at least near the top) on my "to-do list", but today's priority was peanut butter pie. Cause I love Aaron way more than a rice krispy treat could say. 

Love,
Dianne

Food for Thought...on Leo's Birthday

Today was Leo's birthday. Every time I'd ask him what he wanted for his birthday, he'd just say "You." I'd reply, "You already have me." 

He'd say "That's enough for me."

I always knew I was too much to handle.  

Soooo, for his birthday, I took him out to eat last night at The Pine Lodge at Deep Creek Lake, and then this evening, I made supper. Chicken, coleslaw, rice, homemade bread with strawberry jam (from last summer's strawberries), and strawberry shortcake. 

Now, for some of you who cook every meal at your house, this may not seem like much. Years ago, before I ever went to college, I did most of the cooking. But then, I was in college full-time and then working full-time and cooking became more of a chore, a burden. I really did not enjoy cooking, baking, grilling, frying, steaming, sautéing, or stir-frying anymore. I dreaded it most of the time. 

What do I make?

Do I have the ingredients?

Do I have to run to the store? 

What will the kids eat?

Didn't we just have that two nights ago?

What can I make that will be nutritious and delicious?

                                                                

Leo was on the farm then and although busy with farm work, and helping with the kids, he took over the chore of cooking. He is a genius at using leftovers from the fridge and miscellaneous items from the pantry! Most of what he'd throw together, often at the last minute, was always delicious. 

Except for the chicken alfredo. Never add large amounts, if any, of nutmeg. 

Other than that....he is a chef this woman dreams of. 

I got used to him doing a lot of the cooking for our family; I got lazy about it. I did the grocery shopping and an occasional meal here and there, but Leo was the main man in the kitchen. 

(You could say he was the main dish.) 

Since he went to work off the farm, I've had to pick the cooking reins back up again, at least more than I used to. Now it is more of a team effort between the two of us. I am actually enjoying cooking again. I like looking up recipes and trying new dishes again. I like having a sister who sells Pampered Chef. I am enjoying cooking, baking, grilling, frying, steaming, sautéing, and stir-frying again. 

I am thankful God brought me back to a place where I am able to do this again and have fun with it. 

I am thankful for my husband and that I could give him a meal on his birthday. 

With lots of love mixed in, of course. 

The Bread from beginning...

...the middle...

...and the end. Not bad!

Yum Yum Yum

Love,

Dianne

Interview with Leo about Ballroom Lesson #4

Dianne: "So, Leo, what was your impression of dance class tonight?"

Leo: "Uh, I wondered if I had coal dust dirt on my lower neck, because I washed my hair in the sink at the coal plant before meeting you at the Studio." He laughs. "That's why I wore long sleeves too."

Dianne: "But what about the dance class?"


Dianne: "By the way, I thought you looked handsome. You smelled good too."

Leo: (coughs) "Learning new things together is fun."

Dianne: "Details. I need details."

Leo: "Teamwork. Umm, husband and wife are a team and in dancing, even though it is assumed that the man takes the lead, I think we need to work as a team. I think it's more fun that way. I think God likes teamwork. "

Dianne: "I think so too. Jenni (our instructor) said that the man needs to lead, but the woman needs to choose to follow. In doing that, they work as a team. Tonight we counted steps together better and I felt like we were more "together" as a whole."

Leo: "Dancing is not just "butt-bumping" but it is getting in time with the music and rhythm, and each other."

Dianne: "Did you just say "butt-bumping? Seriously?"

Leo: (he just laughs) "And you took me out to eat afterwards for my birthday and I had a very nice evening. It was fun showing you where I work too on our way home."

Dianne: "I had fun too. Even if we looked like we were stupid at the restaurant. I am asking the waiter what my choices were for vegetables and potatoes and he looks at me like I am completely odd because it is right there on the menu. How was I to know that was what the side dishes were? And then, you did the same thing after he'd explained it to me!"

Leo: "Now that's teamwork!"


Tonight at ballroom lesson #4, we focused mainly on Swing, with a little Rumba at the end. Swing is energetic and FUN! We learned the basic step with a 6 count, an under-arch turn (for her), a "she-goes", a   "he-goes", a waist-slide, and something else I can't remember. I thought we actually had this one down really well, until we came home and showed Heather.

We blamed it on the music.

If Leo is the boy, does that make me the monkey?

Love,

Dianne

Frost and Cows

I woke up this morning grouchy. 

1.) Tomorrow is Leo's birthday and I am pretty much coming up blank. It is like Christmas all over again.

2.) I am still not done with my paperwork and taxes.

3.) We are out of milk.

4.) There was frost last night. 

Now, I realize it is still March, and frost, yes, even snow, can be still expected to occur. Until May. But somehow this morning it feels a little like a cruel joke. The tulips, which were so proud and standing tall yesterday, are looking a bit droopy this morning. They aren't laying down completely, but they sure look like they could use a cup of coffee. 

More plants needing a "pick-me-up"

Then, as I am surveying the frost damage,
I come across this...

 My birdbath is laying down and I know frost was not the cause!!

I am sure I know the guilty one here and as I look around, the evidence is unmistakable. There are footprints, err, I mean hoof prints all throughout the garden. See Exhibit A below.

EXHIBIT A

I don't think I even need a CSI team here to solve this crime. That is undeniably a bovine track.
And she didn't just leave one, she left many as she gleefully pranced about (and on top of) the young, tender green plants, smashing them into the ground. If the tulips had been blooming, she would have no doubt chewed off the blossom, roughly pulling the bulb from the soil in the process, and then spitting out the flower. How do I know this? There were a few delinquent cows last year who did the same thing.

They look so innocent don't they. Looks are deceiving. Very deceiving.

WANTED: One black Angus heifer with a white face. Likes to look innocent by laying in the pasture.
Would taste delicious on the grill.

I think her name should be Bonnie as in Bonnie & Clyde.

That was my morning. I feel so much better now that I've vented and had a mug of coffee. Although...

 ...I still don't know what to get Leo for his birthday,

...my taxes still aren't done. 

...and the frost is just a part of life (but the tulips are starting to look a little better).

There are some circumstances in life that I simply can't do anything about, and there are others that I can. 

In both kinds of situations I do have control over one thing: my attitude. 

Oh boy. 

Love,

Dianne

Wanted: One Screen Door (screen & window optional)

Like most people, I have a screen door outside my front door. This door has been here for a long time, well before we ever moved here. Over the years, it has allowed entrance into this house for countless visitors and family members. This door has served us well. 

Anyone familiar with our home knows that our screen door is not just any old screen door. Ours has personality, it is unique. A few years ago, the door latch fell off. We always meant to replace it, but never got around to it. I suppose we got used to having to pry the door away from the doorframe it was nestled in, getting our fingertips on the side of the screen door just so....and then pulling the door open. Besides, it is a great deterrent for miscellaneous salesman when they can't get the door open. 

The other very unique feature about our door that makes it "one of a kind", is the missing top glass. This makes it very convenient when people stop by that you don't want to invite in. You just hang out the top of the door, pretending that this is normal and everyone does it this way, while you speak to the person outside. This also works when your house is messy and you don't want them to get too close to see the disaster in the kitchen. 

This is a nice way to give directions without ever having to step outside.

You can also check the fields behind the house for any stray cattle that have gotten out and are now eagerly eating tulips in the yard...

...which reminds me of why the door doesn't have a glass in the top anymore. 

I don't like animals in my flower beds. Whether it is a dog, a cat, or a cow, my gardens are not to be their personal salad bar, litter box, lounging area. Just thinking about it makes me want to snarl. Well, one day the cats were in the garden outside this door. I had chased them out numerous times already. I mean, they have the entire yard to lay in! But noooo, they lay on my plants, smashing them down. Grrrrrr. 

I finally thought "I'll show them! I'll scare them out of the flower bed!"So, I went to the door and hit the window. First, it was just enough that they looked at me, smugly I might add. I hit the window again and they stood up, and stretched. Now I was really getting mad. I hit the window with both palms and the window shattered all over the sidewalk. 

Oops. 

The cats fled in terror (well, they sauntered away with their noses in the air) and my kids looked at me with their mouths hanging open, their eyes wide, speechless. Finally, one of them says quietly, "I'm sure glad that was you and not one of us." 

Way to be a good example there, Dianne!

Lesson learned: Doing something in anger usually never ends well. And the cats still like that flower bed. I guess they figure I won't be slamming on the bottom glass (it's plexiglass and has already been broken once or twice by a young Aaron running to get out the door and slamming into it!). 

We should probably replace the old door, but somehow it doesn't feel right to do so. It's earned it's place and we probably wouldn't know how to open a door with a handle anyhow. 

Love, 

Dianne

Spring into Spring

Heather (in red), dancing with Studio 7 at the Meyersdale Maple Festival today. 
I'd say that was a good spring...

INTO SPRING!

Doesn't it look like it is kissing?

New Sprouts are EVERYWHERE!

Crabapple...needs a different name...

The first year it bloomed! I am sooo excited!

Even the first sprouts of a hosta are beautiful.

\

In case you hadn't noticed, I love spring.  Everything gets green, overnight it seems, and it all smells so fresh. I think "green" should be a scent. Is it any wonder that everybody gets twitter-patted this time of year?

Love,
Dianne

Share and Share Alike

I don't like to share my toys.
There, I said it. I do not like to share my toys.
I wish I did though.

It starts when you are just little, and you have to share with your siblings. Of course, the toy you have is always the one the other child wants, and you have to share it with them. Why can't they share it with you by not wanting the same toy? I never understood that.

When Adrienne and Aaron were little, and were in Sunday School with me along with the other young mothers and their small children, it was like a competition to see whose child had the best sharing skills. Forget about the lesson being taught; the real lesson was in teaching our children social skills and sharing.

Then Ryan came along (Baby #5) and all the sharing stuff still mattered, but not as much. At least it was in a different way. More like Survival of the Fittest.

Not really.

It was more like what Ryan wanted to play with, the others didn't want anyways. Aaron was 10 years old and playing with a squeaky toy wasn't exactly his choice of toy. If anything, the girls had to learn to share Ryan. One baby and three girls, you do the math.

Nowadays, it is about sharing time on the computer, sharing the dishes (washing them, not eating off of them), and sharing the TV (USA network vs. Cartoon Network).

Back to my toys...I have a few hobbies that involve tools, like my sewing machine or scrapbooking essentials, gardening tools, and my laptop. Today, the girls were thinking about sewing. All it took was them mentioning using my sewing machine and I began to have an unnatural twitch. I mean, I want my girls to share my hobbies with me, but when they actually want to...

I think it is because I have to teach them how to use the machine properly and then I feel like I need to supervise (yes, I have control issues) and then I just don't want to share. Sounds a lot like a child.

"They might break it!"
"But, it's mine!"
"I had it first!"
"Can't you get your own?"

I got short-tempered with my girls then, and Adrienne went and got a Celtic Thunder CD and put it on to soothe the savage beast. They know me so well.

It's working.

The twitch is gone, the smile is back, the brownies are baking and smelling amazing.
I may just even share my sewing machine later today.

Love,
Dianne

A Sigh of Contentment

Tonight I am content. I don't end every day feeling so peaceful with myself and my life, but tonight I am.

Today was not really much different than any other day. I got off work, went to my car, drove to Wal-Mart to get brownie ingredients, fell asleep in my car (before even getting ingredients) for about two hours, then went to Goodwill to look for spoons for a project. At Goodwill, I scored on the spoons, found a chair with potential, and found two plates to add to my Currier & Ives Dish Collection. I love treasure hunting.

















I left Goodwill, drove home (without being too sleepy which is always a plus in my book), and was met by Leo (another bonus to my day). He was home today being a farmer, plowing some fields, and it was nice to hear the old tractor again.

I changed my clothes and went out into the glorious day to one of my gardens. I tackled a portion of the herb garden and decided that I should maybe just grow weeds because I am apparently quite proficient at it. After all, herbs probably started out as weeds in somebody's garden during the Middle Ages. I am just continuing a time honored tradition by allowing the weeds, ahem, herbs take over.

I am convinced that digging in the dirt is good for the soul.

Amy, Heather and Ryan came home from school, Adrienne and Aaron came home from work, and we prepared supper together, and did the dishes. Supper was spent in talking and a lot of laughter. They told me I am not allowed to blog about what exactly we were laughing at; let's just say it was funny. Very funny.

After a long shower, I am settling in for the night.
At peace.
At rest.
Content.
Sigh.

Love,
Dianne

Words to Live By

 They say that "a picture paints a thousand word", but what about what just one word says?

Here are a few of my favorites:

Vintage                     Carefree

Weathered                 Heirloom

Wardrobe                  Barnboards

Barefoot                    potting shed

Stoneware                 Loveseat

Breeze                       Thunderstorm

Umbrella                   History

Peace                        Hydrangea

Chifforobe                Parlor

Heritage                   Willow

Secret                       Antique 

Love                         Compassion

Joy                            Laughter 

Chaise                      Whimsical

See what I mean? Each word takes you somewhere, puts a picture in your head. These are words that make me pause, smile, and imagine. They inspire me. Words can make us happy, but they can make us sad too. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me" is not true. Words evoke feelings and memories; not all of these are good. 

Tornado                     Illness                         Dark                      Forsaken

Argument                  Depression                  Alone                    Abandoned

Crash                         Hurry                          Nightmare             Torn

Pain                           Scream                        Isolation                 Bruise

Again, see what I mean? Words are powerful. In many ways, they leave an unseen bruise that doesn't heal quickly. I need to be careful with my words. When I am tired, worried, pushed for time, etc, my words can become critical and unkind. I blurt out what I am thinking and think I am justified, that I will feel better. 

But I don't feel better, I feel worse. Learning to control my words has been a long process, and is a continuing journey. I have regrets, I have spilled words out that have left nasty stains. But there is always the next minute, the next hour, the next day. I can make a choice.

Choice...that's another good word.

My Today Resolution is to think about my words, their impact, their value. Hopefully the ones that come out of my mouth will be worthwhile...

...and make you pause, smile, and imagine. 

Love,

Dianne

Ballroom Lesson #3...Let the Dance Continue...

The Foxtrot continues to trot, the Rumba continues to...rumba, and the Swing is starting to swing...

Leo and I finished Lesson #3 last evening and it is becoming a little like a game of Memory. We reviewed the steps we are starting to become comfortable with, and then we added a few more step...uh-oh...

 Oh man, and just when we were starting to look good too! All it takes is a something new, even just one new step, to throw us off out timing,

 Was that "slow-slow, quick-quick" or "quick-quick-slow", or maybe it was "the Rumba rectangle with 9 counts" or was that "6 counts with an under-arm turn."

Yep, this is the look we sometimes have, mostly at each other, but sometimes at the other couples who we've tried to avoid running into, but couldn't help it. Sometimes I think they should just promenade out of our way, instead of us always trying to get out of the jam we've all tangled ourselves in. It would be easy for each of us to just look out for ourselves and not care where anyone else is, but imagine the pile of tangled arms and legs as we would all end up on the floor.

Dancing is teaching me patience (something I apparently have a hard time learning!) I need to be patient with my ability, I need to be patient with how Leo learns, I need to be patient with others on the dance floor who are also learning.

How do I respond to what I take as an insult, whether real or imagined? Not just on the dance floor, but in everyday life? I hope I can respond with grace and elegance, regardless of where I am or what I am doing.

Grace and Elegance. Sounds so nice, but neither happens without effort and practice. So, I'll keep practicing the dance, in the ballroom and in everyday life. Maybe someday I'll get it right most of the time, but in the meantime, I'll celebrate the moments that I do.

Love,
Dianne

The Winners

As promised, I want to announce the winners of my "Celebrate Blog # 100 Drawing"! Thank you to Heather who helped me out by drawing the names.

I am off work this weekend, so I plan to do some baking! 

See you all sometime Saturday!

Love,

Dianne

Being Chosen

Everybody likes to win. Everybody wants to be a winner.  There is just something about a contest or game that attracts people. I think that it is an inside need that we all have, whether or not we ever verbalize it.

When I was a young girl, I loved going to the Mother-Daughter Banquet at our church for Mother's Day. Not only was it fun to be with all my friends and their mothers, but there were always door prizes. Every table would have a centerpiece on it, usually a plant or flower of some kind. During the evening's events, names would be drawn and the winners would get to pick a centerpiece. For three years in a row, my name was drawn. Now, it wasn't like there was only a small group there, it was a large group of women and daughters of all ages. My sisters thought it was so unfair.

I just thought I was lucky.  I would think to myself, "Too bad I can't play the lottery."

Then the winning streak ended.

Until I went to a scrapbooking retreat with my sister two years ago. Out of about 75 women, my name was drawn for a couple different drawings three times. Maybe now I should play the lottery.

Then that winning streak ended too. (My winning streaks are generally short-lived.)

The point is, I like winning. I like to be picked first. Shucks, I just like to be picked. Remember how in Middle School, you would pick your teams in gym class? I am not sure why I was always picked towards the last, but I was. I may not be the most athletic chick, but I didn't think I was that bad. Maybe I just looked too delicate and feminine to play...think about it...

No, that wasn't it.

I don't know why I was picked last, but it always stung a little, sometimes a lot. It is one thing to be picked at random because your name is drawn out of a hat, but it is quite another to be handpicked personally. Or in my case, not picked. Those memories and feelings stick with you throughout your life.

What I like about God is that He handpicked everyone of us, and not in any order of popularity.

Psalm 139:13-16
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

1 Peter 2:9
But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light

Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Read more: http://www.bukisa.com/articles/255140_bible-verses-about-our-identity-in-christ#ixzz1pfSMKI7o



That makes us all winners!


Love,
Dianne

P.S. So, I am having a fun contest (see yesterday's blog #100) and it is totally random. Tonight I am drawing the names at 8:00. There may be 3 names that are "winners", but I think all my readers are winners. I like contests, the ones that don't, on purpose, put someone last. So there may be more in the future. Any suggestions or ideas are welcome. I'll post the winners names tomorrow.

Blog # 100 From Depression to Inspiration

Blog Post # 100.

What a journey this has been for me. When I started, I wanted to get back into writing, a hobby I've always enjoyed, but in the last number of years, I have ignored. I wanted to write something everyday. I think I have missed 15 days, and that is usually related to working three 12-hr night shifts in a row. Somehow sleep becomes priority and although I tried writing some of those days, it usually ended up on a scrap pile. You want to talk about random...but that's another post.

For me, the best part about this journey is what it has done for me spiritually, emotionally and socially.
So here goes...

For eight years, I was being treated with medication for depression. First of all, let me just say that being treated was not a bad thing, being on medication was not a bad thing. It was necessary for the not-so-good place I was at in my life. I think I had struggled with depression and anger for many years before finally seeking help when Ryan was born. I thought that as a Christian, I should be able to "fix" the problem without any outside intervention. When things were getting worse, and I couldn't fix it, it was like a downward spiral into a pit. "I am a failure", "I'm no good to anybody", "My family would be better off if I was gone." These were the thoughts running through my head, all the time. Until I got help.

Being on medication for depression was hard for me; it was admitting that I could not make things right on my own. Worse, it felt like I wasn't trusting God to help me. I had to change the way I was thinking about depression. It is not just "in your head". It is part of a chemical process that goes on and it is a physical thing that occurs. Once I got to that point (and it took awhile!), I did so much better because the guilt I'd always felt began to go away. Not only did medication help, but I was given other tools to use to help with all the negative thinking that had become such a part of who I was. Writing things out was one of those tools. I did that for a little while but then got tired of it; why write the same thing over and over?

So, the years passed and I had good days and bad days. The last two years were mostly good days with a few "bottom of the pit" days thrown in here and there. Then January 2011 arrived and I began a fitness program through work. It involved walking (getting 10,000 steps every day), strength training, and nutrition. I logged everything I ate, and while it was difficult and challenging, I not only lost 15-20 pounds (depending on what day I stood on the scales), but I lost something else.

I found that the dark moods, the negative thinking, the sadness, had pretty much left. I gradually came off my medication and since last June, I have been medication-free. Hurrah for healthy eating and exercise. I know that it worked for me, but I also know that it may not have. And truly, that would've been okay too. If you are depressed, and need medication, then do it. I don't regret getting help when I needed it; I should have done it long before I did.

So, where does the blog fit in? I think that this kind of writing, rather than writing about my feelings all the time, is the writing that benefits me the most. Somehow, I view the world in a different way. Everything is seen from a new angle; life is exciting to me. Even the unexciting is new. I don't know how to put into words (now, that's funny) how writing this blog has helped me in ways that medication and therapy couldn't. I think about my relationship with God in a different way too. It is richer, more colorful, more vibrant.

Then there is the social aspect of a blog. I feel like I have let people into my life, that I have shared a bit of me, and the response has been good. There are people that I haven't seen for years that I have reconnected with, and there are people I see every week or everyday that are getting to know me in a new way. I love it. I love when I know I have inspired somebody else to be inspired. (Hence, the subtitle of my blog "A place to inspire me to inspire you.")

I have been inspired, I have been motivated. I have even starting writing down some characters and plot for a book. Exciting!

Today is Blog # 100. I want to celebrate! So, if you aren't an official member of my blog, sign up. Leave me a "like" or a comment on Facebook. Share the site with some friends. I will put the names into one of my hats (the one with a feather will do), and draw three out.  The winners will get, either delivered in person, or via mail, the brownies I made for Valentine's day. Oh yes, the Mocha Sinful Ones. Forget healthy eating for just a day.

Or I could put up 100 pink flamingoes in your front yard...
I'd go with the Mocha Brownies if I were you.

Love,
Dianne

Foxtrotting Down the Railroad Trail

This afternoon, Leo and I went for a stroll on the Meyersdale Rails To Trails. Amy and Ryan came along and rode their bikes.

We walked...
       ...we rode...
           ...we danced...

           ......and we danced in the rain.

We Foxtrotted, we Rumba'd, we promenaded and we even threw in a few New Yorkers. And all without running into a single person. Look out Dancing With The Stars...you'd don't have a thing on us! Except for maybe the sequins...which I am still working on!

Love,
Dianne