big ask dot com

hope with ataxia

2009-11-25T15:01:00.000-08:00

that's where I am living these days...

www.hopewithataxia.blogspot.com

back in the saddle again.

2009-09-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

Even as I post this photo I am laughing. I guess it's better than crying. I haven't been on a bike for over 15 years. And the saying isn't true...my body has absolutely no recollection of how I should ride a bike. I was a bit over zealous the first ride and it took about 2 hours to go 10 blocks. I have the bruises to prove it and if I could walk, I'd be bull-legged.
Sting ray handle bars and a tricycle...interesting combination.

a bit backwards...

2009-09-03T07:59:00.000-07:00

I started a writing group this summer and now I freaked myself out to write on this blog.
Not sure that's how I thought it would work.

I also started another blog.
Not sure that's how it's suppose to work.

I am still alive and kickin'.

www.hopewithataxia.blogspot.com

Barely.

an onion?

2009-07-22T16:41:00.000-07:00

I use to be one of her favorites. It saddens me to speak of it in the past. She use to walk to me with arms extended and be perfectly content to sit on my lap and go for a ride. I use to be able to calm her when nothing else seemed to work. Now she screams hysterically and flares her body if even the slightest move is made in my direction. My phone use to ring which ended in voice mails of her sweet innocent voice whispering, "I love you, Holly" and her mom adding that she had been talking about me all morning. Now when her mom asks if she wants to talk to me she replies "No!"
I use to be one of her favorites. When she sneezed her mom would say, "God bless you, Lauren!" and she would respond, "No momma, bless Holly!"
Her parents tell me not to take personally. They call it a phase.
I call it heartbreaking.

She did ask about me at the Farmer's Market this past Saturday. And before I hung up the phone with them, I was on my way to meet them. My secret longing was that the phase was over. However Lauren was much more into this red onion than me.
Yes, an onion.

friends and firepits

2009-07-21T15:55:00.000-07:00

The other night I was in a "funk". I call it a funk-a-runk. These times are not fun. I don't like being me when I travel through these.
I know by now it will pass. I just need to make wise choices when I allow my feelings to control me.
So, after a day of losing the power and going down the slippery slope, I took D dog for a long walk.

It's so fun knowing God has my back when a funk-a-runk night turns into an evening among friends and fire pits. True healing.

And even more joy when I noticed Anika peaking over our heads in the photo. Hilarious.

how not to parent

2009-06-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

We've all heard the saying or even said it ourselves..."if you can't say anything nice, than don't say anything at all."...
Not sure the mom I overheard yesterday in the hallmark shop as I was picking out a 80th birthday card was brought up with the same conviction. This is the following conversation I heard over the card display between a mom and a 4 year old son:

"Mommy, I'm hungry."

"Aaagggghh, Tommy, you are not hungry. Look at your stomach. See how fat you are?! You are NOT hungry."

I should have slipped the boy my business card. And we wonder why kids have low self-esteem.

Speaking of self-esteem, mine certainly was under attack yesterday as I trucked on down for an iced coffee after the card shopping. The following conversations happened within seconds of each other:

A boy probably 4 or 5 was walking ahead of me with his mom when he caught Delsie out of the corner of his eye. From that point on he would turn his head around attempting to maintain his walk forward. At any moment I thought the kid was going to stumble on the concrete sidewalk. The mom was oblivious to the whole thing until they reached their parked car.

"Come on, bud."

He now completely stopped and is staring at me.

"Buddy, come on!"

The mom notices he is staring at me and is obviously embarrassed.
The boy still staring and not budging, points at me with an extended arm and says loudly, "Is her legs broken?!"

Curious as to how this inattentive mom going to respond, I smile while staring back. She scoops the boy up and stuffs him in the car and quickly shuts the door while answering, "yup."

In my meek opininion, she missed two teachable moments with her son.

It's not IS her legs broken, it's ARE. Legs are plural.

hair today...and tomorrow

2009-06-24T20:00:00.000-07:00

Seriously. My dog should be bald with the amount of hair she sheds.

And if she could talk she would tell you the same thing about me.

We are quite a team.

I snapped this photos out of disbelief of her bed the morning after I brushed her for an hour with the furminator. Yes, the furminator. One hour.

the Office: in real life.

2009-06-13T17:34:00.000-07:00

And this is why I love J. One of the many reasons.
The following is a text he sent me on Friday:

"We have an intern who I had in his 2nd week photocopy an 800 page file. This morning, I show up and my stapler was in a jello mold."

They better hire that intern, that's all I'm sayin'.

from the mouth of a 36 yr old

2009-05-31T05:54:00.000-07:00

Most blogs (including mine) entail quotes/conversations that are funny involving children.

My phone call with Jeremy yesterday involved such a quote worthy of blogging as well. And he is 36 years old.

Our discussion entailed his co-workers and their choices, or lack thereof, in their wardrobe. Granted, J is a metro sexual and will admit it. None the less, he knows fashion.

He was telling me he has finally developed a trusting relationship with a another guy whom he works with. Because of this, he was relieved to say the following:

"Dude, it is time for you to get shoes that you tie in the morning. Seriously."

I think I wet my pants when he told me this. And even as I write about it, I am laughing again.

I guess adults say the darnedest things too- at least J does.

this too, shall pass

2009-05-30T07:16:00.000-07:00

"I wondered when this was going to happen. I use to drive a tiny car."
This was what the driver said to me as she seriously needed a step ladder to get out of the HUGE cab truck that innocently plowed into my mini-van. I was in a parking lot getting ready to watch Kennedy graduate from 5th grade.
No harm done. No one was hurt. Her truck showed no signs.
Here's the catch. (Which their always seems to be a "catch" in my life.)
The damage has been done to the door with the ramp. The door and ramp that gives me freedom in my life. It doesn't work. The last couple of days I made arrangements with a co-worker, neighbor, friends and even calling people in the businesses I need to visit. Like yesterday when I had to make a half hour trip that turned into a 3 hour tour (time for a GPS) for a 15 minute estimate for my insurance company.
"Can someone come out to open my door so I can get out of my van?"
I never thought those words would come out of my mouth. On multiple levels.
I am sure other words are going to seep out when this is all done.
Some days I just want a "do-over".

rings and characteristics

2009-05-28T19:27:00.000-07:00

I don't know my life without the Hofland family and for that, I am so grateful. I wouldn't want a life without them, all of them. Including their mom and dad.

The other day, Delsie and I walked over to their house for my Hofland fix. As usual, they hopped on and we went for a "ride". Grant was sitting on my lap on this particular adventure. He noticed my hand that adorn a couple of sterling silver rings and the following conversation occurred:

Grant: Did a boy give you those rings?

Me: No. I bought them for me.

Grant: Well, I like them. They're cool.

Me: Thanks.

At this point I allowed for silence as I could feel his wheels spinning.

Grant: Will you ever get married?

Me: I'm not sure. Do you think I will?

Grant: Yea. But if you do, he better have your characteristics.

Me: What would those be?

And with that, the conversation ended. Grant was more interested in a soccer ball.

Some time later we were talking about something else that made me laugh. Without missing a beat Grant looked over at me and said, "Now THAT would be a characteristic."

And who said kids aren't wise?

You're right Grant, He better make me laugh.

choices

2009-05-27T18:54:00.000-07:00

Our lives are full of choices. The decisions I make can effect not only me but those around me. I am keenly aware of these choices as I am reading a book by James McDonald. It has been life changing for me. As I work through discovering who I REALLY am in Christ, I say audio ably "I am choosing to believe that you love me today, God." I don't always feel Him or even trust every moment with Him. As I work through this, a friend commented that he was confident that God would show up in my obedience. Even when it hurts.

The other day I woke up with a dull ache. I was sad and couldn't even explain it. The sun was shining, my bones were thawing out from the nasty winter, trees were budding their leaves, birds were chirping, a roof over my head, food in my belly, a job to pay the bills...but the "ache" was there. "I am choosing to believe that you love me today, God."

and just like my friend said, He showed up.

This was how I found my Orchid after facilities cleaned my office early Wednesday morning:
Thanks, Celia, for allowing God to use you. And I'm not talking about vacuuming.

a moment in time.

2009-05-26T20:10:00.000-07:00

Delsie dug a hole to China underneath my sisters tree (sorry, guys) as the rest of the family gathered around their pool. Some of my nephews and nieces braved the frigid temperature despite the difficulty in breathing after they dove in.

Oh, to be young again.

And I have a feeling Alex and Delsie agree with those sentiments as I looked over only to find the two "bonding".

A sweet memory to the end of a beautiful Memorial Day.

S-U-C-C-E-S-S!

2009-05-25T17:43:00.000-07:00

Fun at a playground. Scootering around the block. Four square on the neighbors driveway. Drawing with chalk on the sidewalk. Talent Show. Watch a movie, "Hotel For Dogs", Lights out at 11:15 PM.
Awake at 7:30AM. Four square again. Walk to Donutville for a donut and chocolate milk. Fun at the playground. Again. Watch a movie. Again.
Ended with Mata's chocolate chip pancakes for lunch.
Another cousin night.
Another success.

anticipation...

2009-05-19T19:09:00.000-07:00

Friday night.
It's cousin night.
Aunt Holly can't wait.
My nephews and nieces are a riot.
They are excited to hang with each other.
And I'm thrilled to hang with them.
Friday night.
It's cousin night.

Typically, the sleep over isn't a success without a talent show.
I am positive Danika's song is translated, "Aunt Holly is my favorite aunt!"

a "lifer".

2009-05-18T19:03:00.000-07:00

It has been said that friends come and go. I can not remember when Jayne came into my life. Maybe over 15 years ago? But she almost "left" a few months ago. As in left this earth-almost died.
I still am processing this whole thing. Not nearly as much as she is, but none the less...working through the fact that Jayne had a brain bleed on January 31 and spent the entire month of February in the Neuro-Intensive Care Unit in Colorado.
She is the first to admit that she is a miracle. Doctors scratch and shake their heads, "you're an usual case." And we are calling this mystery, God's work.
So when Jeff and Jayne met me at JP's when they were in town for the sons graduation from college the beginning of the month, I wept when we hugged.
My friend has come and gone as she has moved to a different state. But I am so glad she didn't die.
I have a feeling that I am going to be processing this for awhile...but tonight I am going to focus on the fact that she is here. Jayne came in my life and made a huge place in my heart and I am never going to let her go. She's a friend for life.
I love you, Propane.

the 411.

2009-05-10T16:41:00.000-07:00

Every month for the last 2 years my friends have gifted me with a therapeutic massage. This has been a HUGE help for me. I carry my stress in my neck and when I fall, that is the area of my body that suffers the most. I am so grateful for this gift...I will never be able to repay my friends who allow me to do this.
Because of the longevity of going to the same masseuse for the past two years, we have developed an awesome friendship. An added bonus. This past Friday I had an appointment- the timing was impeccable as I had fallen in the beginning of the week and as a result could barely move my neck. As she was working on my body and we were talking, she asked me where I hurt. I tried to pawn it off by grumbling and pointing to my neck. "Holly, does it hurt in your stomach or your heart or your throat...where does it hurt?" It was at that point that I realized we were doing a lot more than working the kinks out in my neck. I had to think about where I hurt and then gestured to the area of my heart as the tears began to flow. "Ah, it's your heart that hurts."
It was at that point that God used her in my life to encourage me and help me to work out the kinks not only in my neck, but the knots in my heart. And boy, are they there...
...kind of like this cop that parks in a parking lot near my house to "catch" the person who's not abiding by the speed limit.
My view of God is like this, I am ashamed to admit. He is "looming" at a distance. And I have been "caught". Now I have a choice to welcome the alert or get mad at His authority in my life. Thus, the tears. It's humbling. It's lonely. It's overwhelming. It's downright scary and painfully slow.
But God is gracious. That is what I am choosing to believe today.
And hopefully that driver that got pulled over believes, too.

life with my dog

2009-04-26T18:22:00.000-07:00

Delsie sleeps in a toddler bed next to me. For whatever reason, I have been going through a phase of relishing who she has become in my life. This plays out with the number of photos I take of her (I have been called "mom-arrozi") or laugh hysterically when she does something funny or even shed tears when I reflect on the support she gives me in life. Last night was no exception as I tucked her in bed and said our prayers. These can be heard as something like this, "I love you, Delsiemeister. I am so glad you are in my life. (massaging her) Give mommy some lovin'. (she rolls her eyes and licks my face) Aw, thank you tootie. You love your mommy? (no response) Cuz your mommy loves you." At this point she has checked out and I plug in my chair and climb into bed. It's a ritual. And I am sure about now you are reading in disbelief and maybe chuckling while shaking your head. I am okay with that because there are things that happen in my life that cause me to react this way as well...
like the other night...
now that the weather has been nicer, Delsie and I go for a lot of walks. On this particular walk, I heard the engine of a diesel truck over my blaring iPod parked on the opposite side of the road. When Delsie and I were parallel to the truck, a slender gentleman in running shorts and a sweaty t-shirt opened the car door. He was walking towards us and because of Jack Johnson bellowing in my ears, I couldn't make out what he was saying. I stopped and removed my earphones from my ears.
"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."
He handed me a business card that had a name (apparently his) , address, phone number-cell and home, email and fax number.
"I am not selling anything. I saw you last year and just wanted you to know you're an inspiration."
Even now, as I re-live this encounter, I am shaking my head and chuckling.

He likes to email people so I would be happy to pass on your email address to him if he should stop me again.

...you can stop chuckling now...

let summer begin

2009-04-25T16:27:00.000-07:00

work day is not official until Dickie adorns his "onsie".

Sometimes in life I need to take a breath and inhale deeply, taking it all in. And today was one of those days even though I had to set my alarm for 6:15 AM. It was worth lack of sleep and getting dressed in the dark, as once again, my parents small group invested in the community wide "Plunge" at my house for four hours. From painting walls, doors;cleaning windows; hauling out my deck furniture; trimming bushes; placing my flower box and cleaning my garage...my cup overflows.

he's some dad...

2009-04-19T19:23:00.000-07:00

We are all someones child. Facts like this one are simple yet universal. We all come from a mom and a dad. Stop and think about it. It's rather bizarre. And this "simple" fact makes us all quite complicated, suffice it to say, a bit messed up. No one is spared from this. It's true. All of us have a dad.

And my dad turned 70 yesterday. 7-0. Typing those numbers made me shudder a bit. 70 is old. But my dad isn't. He never will be.

Today we had a surprise party for him with our family at McDonalds playland. You would have thought he entered the gates of heaven when he opened the door to find us all adorned with party hats and blowers. I, personally, would describe this with another word that starts with "H" but it warmed this southern mans heart.

As I think on my circle of friends, I know part of their story includes their dad. Some died way too soon, some are making poor choices, some are rejecting them, some are loving them, some are just angry, some are fighting cancer, some are working a lot, some are married over and over, some are not even known and some just turned 70.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

You are loved.

"I'll get you my pretty!"

2009-03-30T14:16:00.000-07:00

I pride myself on having a brain. I love to be challenged in my thinking. I am one of those weird people who enjoyed school. Not the demands and pressures of studying for tests but the way it made me process. It made my brain work. My friend Jeremy has decided to go back to school and I often feel jealous that he is writing a paper or even studying. He has a goal. He is challenged. He is hopeful for a good grade. He is in company with scholars. I just listen and recognize my brain is turning to mush. It’s much simpler to turn the power button on the remote control for the TV or stuff my ears with my iPod earphones while relating to the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz, “If I Only Had a Brain”.

We often hear the expression, “three times and you’re out!”I have had my fair share of attempts at a good swing these past few days and my plastic bat is not even hitting the wiffle ball.

Yesterday in church I was catching up with a friend. I was asking how his wife is feeling as he told me she is hopeful to give birth the second week of May.

“Oh, that’s so exciting!”

“Yea, but we’re thinking she is going to go early.”

“Really?”

“Yea, we’re shootin’ for a Cinco De Mayo baby.”

“Oh yea, when’s that?” said with a straight face, mind you.

Strike One!

My friend Jo and I were riding in an elevator. This is a necessity at times when you're wheelchair bound. After the doors closed shut, we were both staring at the buttons trying to figure out what floor we were on and which one we had to move to.

Jo asked, “What does the star mean that is by this number?”

I replied (again, with a straight face), “It tells us what floor you’re on.”

Strike Two!

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I almost finished my morning ritual. A couple of squirts of my favorite perfume that a friend gave me, completes my routine. I typically head out to the kitchen to let Delsie outside. That is, if I am pointing the nozzle of the perfume to squirt on my neck and not directly in my left eye!

Strike Three!

So, the scarecrow and I have more in common than just difficulty in walking. Not a whole lot going on in that “noggin’” of mine these days. Maybe I should attempt to study for a PhD…”If I Only Had a Brain.”

ants in my pants.

2009-03-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

The sun is deceiving today. It produced this anxiousness in me to get outside with a longing for the warmth of the sun to penetrate in my stiff, cold bones. It didn't happen. I jumped the gun.

Kind of like the time in LA when visiting my friend, Tiffany. We were excited to visit her favorite coffee shop one day. In LA, locations are never a hop-skip-and a jump away and this cute hangout was no exception.

Our anxiousness was a detour ant as we realized once we found a parking spot across the street and unloaded the scooter(a pleasant gift trying to park in California) that we had forgotten the key to get the scooter to move.

Poor Tiff made the commute back home in LA traffic to pick up the key we left behind on the kitchen counter.

In hopes of reminding myself of the warmth of the California sun after returning from a brisk walk in Michigan this afternoon, I scrolled through my photos of LA.

I laughed at this memory but acknowledged my tendency to jump the gun in my life when things don't seem to be happening the way I want them too. It is obvious that I am anxious waiting for His plan to be revealed in my life- not my plan.

Psalm 25:3 "No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame, but they will be put to shame who are treacherous without excuse."

There is no excuse when I "jump the gun."

Ready. Set. WAIT.

strangers.

2009-03-10T17:55:00.000-07:00

We were complete strangers. That is, until this weird, invasive and all encompassing thing called Ataxia entered our lives. (Which, by the way, was not invited.) We all wanted this "guest" to know that although it had invaded our lives, it was not going to control us. It is strange how something so awful, so obtrusive can be the very thing that "ties the bind". (I seriously have no idea what that expression means but it sounds right) Ataxia is a common thread in our lives but it is not who we are. Ironically, without the diagnosis, I would never have loved Becky and Deb like I do now. We wouldn't talk for hours over decaf coffee or order KFC and eat at the beach, laugh at our failed attempts at love or cry together knowing this intruder of Ataxia robbed the life of someone we loved.

All of us were strangers.

Or what about the stranger who saw me stuck in my driveway during one of the many blizzards this winter when I attempted to roll my trash can out to the curb? He must have spotted me and turned his truck around, only to push my 300 lb. wheelchair in the garage. I hardly uttered the words "thank-you" when he hopped back in the cab of his truck and drove off.

He was a stranger to me.

Last month I attended a funeral of an older man, Fred, who died of cancer. Fred touched my life. He loved Jesus and everyone who knew him, knew that. We shared many conversations on the phone, some that lasted more than an hour, before he died. I grew from Fred's wisdom and admired his faith. I miss our talks. I sat in the back pew in the chapel for his funeral. I sat next to a lady I had never met before. Fred's songs he chose to be sung at his funeral hit me hard. I wept. I couldn't control it. The lady next to me gently placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed some love into me, reminding me it was going to be okay.

She was a stranger.

I flew out to California last month. And my flight out there was delayed. This made my layover in the Minnesota airport a total of 5 minutes. No small feat for a girl on a scooter that has speed of a tortoise, with a service dog that poops in the carpeted terminal and has to go the distance from gate A to gate Z. Fortunately, the plane waited for us. The ENTIRE 757. I discovered that my seat was GA- the middle of the aircraft. It was at that point when a man seated in the aisle seat of first class tapped me on the shoulder and said, "have my seat, I'll take yours." He wouldn't take no for an answer and proceeded down the airplane. Miles down to seat GA. So there I sat in first class and treated like a queen.

A gift from a stranger.

So maybe my life is filled with unique situations but I am not convinced, as I once was, that we are surrounded by strangers. These people tell me otherwise, in those divine moments, they became my friends.

...because.

2009-03-07T05:35:00.000-08:00

I have neglected my blog for an entire month. There is no excuse or nothing that has occupied my time as a distraction to not journal during February. I am sure, like the rest of you who live in the North, I could spend ample time complaining about the winter and how the cold and grey lent itself to my lack of motivation, but I will refrain. We all know how awful it was without me dwelling on the negative. So, I will press on.
Just like this note that was included with this flower on my front step...it's a reminder of the "because" in my life. We all have them. Because I am single, I can sleep in whenever I want. (then why was I up at 6:48 AM?!) Because, I love hard, I hurt hard. Because I love to laugh, I choose to hang out with funny people. Because where I live has no sun, I tan in a machine. Because I have a disability, I have a service dog. Because I have nine nieces and nephews, I am an aunt. Because I love Jesus, I belong.

This gift this winter was my "because". I'll keep going. Because of the "be causes". They may not make sense, some feel good, some hurt...a lot. But I'll keep going...just because.

from the inside.

2009-01-25T18:08:00.000-08:00

So, it's not all ugly. This winter stuff. I am sure my friend in LA doesn't have icicles like these hanging from her house. Okay, either do my friends here because they probably have insulation.

Attempting to focus on the beauty...I am sure it's in LA, too. And their toes aren't frozen.

solace day?

2009-01-25T17:35:00.000-08:00

This space is hopefully our future "think pad" as my friend MaryJo oozes her creativity into my pores. Fridays made to be full of possibilities, good conversations and heart felt writing. Working on a goal. Holding one another accountable. Living in community. Admiring D dog as she finds the perfect spot, staring out the window...dreaming...probably of Spring...

...and who can blame her when squatting requires snow up to her knees! (dogs have knees, right? They better as my parents paid for two surgeries to repair the ACL on their dog- poor Jasper)

When Delsie and I became a team eight years ago, I bought a gazillion toys that were on the approved list from Canine Partners For Life. Little did I know that tennis balls were the only toy that would get her psyched. God knew what He was doing when He blessed me with a home by a high school tennis court.

I was told two days ago marked "Solace Day"...half way through winter.

We're almost there, D!

brrrr...

2009-01-20T18:55:00.000-08:00

They are called Cuddl Duds. And they are amazing. I am not sure why it took me this long to realize these are imperative when you live in Antarctica.

And why don't I sit like this when I am wearing them?

friends.

2009-01-17T07:50:00.000-08:00

As I lounge around in my PJ's, sipping warm coffee, reading emails and contemplating going back to bed; poor Alex is white knuckling it back to their home in Indianer. Once again, I am reminded of how God continues to give to me over and over. The 17 hour visit with the Falders was that gift.

Tricia is a best friend. A friend from my college days. It is so great to do life with her. And watching how she partnered with Alex. (whom I LOVE) and then together they brought Davy and Jacob into this world. Today we celebrate the one year old life of Jacob.

...and I continue to celebrate that the Falders are part of my life. Thanks for investing in me, guys!
I love you and Happy Birthday, Jacob!

the slippery slope.

2009-01-15T12:11:00.001-08:00

Most of my friends are enduring temper tantrums of their two year olds. I, however, experienced my own as a thirty something year old. No lie. I am not sure it is the baby of the family scenario or the living with the realities of this disability but either way, I freaked out.

I am certain if you live in the city limits, you may have heard a strange wailing or even a sound of a shrill of unrecognizable words about 9:30PM. That was me. Me having a temper tantrum. An “I can’t do this” moment. A pity party. A party of one. (poor Delsie had to be there)

Don’t misunderstand me; I am not proud of this. I would be completely mortified if someone heard me or worse yet, saw me.

But here is the weird thing. God does. But do I REALLY believe that? So much so that I live with confidence that every snort or tear isn’t wasted?

Do I REALLY believe that God is there providing people in that moment to push my wheelchair out of a three foot high snow bank? (you try steering a power chair on sheer ice) Or do I trust that God provided a mini-van (said with swallowing pride) to get to point A to point B with relative ease? And when the ramp doesn’t come down in zero degree weather do I know that God is for me and not against me?

I guess this is what faith is…”being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1

Hope. That’s a scary thing for me. Kind of like if you tell people what you wish for on your birthday cake it won’t come true. If I am honest with God about what I long for in my life, won’t I jinx it?

If I am certain that God has my back when things don’t make sense, wouldn’t my life be that much more joyful?

It’s simple really. I am the one that makes it complicated. I am the one on the slippery slope and in a twisted sort of way; enjoying the ride.

It’s a journey. And the ride can be and is painful at times. But during the midst of the tantrums, I have to believe God is for me and not against me.

Even saying good-bye to a gift. A gift of laughter. A gift of hope. A gift of a friendship. A gift in Tj. A gift that reminds me of Hebrews 11:36 “You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.”

So during those tantrums, whether it is a two year old or thirty something…God promises that hope. Hope in Him.

american idol begins.

2009-01-13T20:14:00.000-08:00

This video is funny on many levels.

So thankful for laughter...even if I am the only one laughing.

And I do every time I watch this.

California or bust.

2009-01-12T16:54:00.000-08:00

The countdown has begun. 18 days until I see blue skies and my toes begin to thaw out. If it weren't for my trip out west I think my whining would turn into the full on ugly cry.

Who am I kidding? I cried myself to sleep under my two down comforters last night and I awoke crying as I layered my fifth piece of clothing over my broken nose. (later post)

Blizzard is the buzz word for the evening and school kids are crossing their fingers in hopes of shutting off their alarm in the morning.

I just hope I can get out of my driveway.

i love cousin nite.

2009-01-10T13:43:00.000-08:00

My sisters think I'm nuts. I'm just crazy for my nieces and nephews. And they love each other.
It's fun to be a part of it...

...apparently the ghost in my home has a blast too when it tore down my family room curtains.

...'tis the season...

2008-12-27T10:16:00.000-08:00

Delsie was included in the $15 drawing with the cousins. She loved her red lobster the most.

Christmas at my parents. Adults had to purchase a $5 gift from a second hand store- it was a complete succes. The gifts were amazing and it was a blast to see how far we could stretch a dollar.

So blessed with Gods faithfulness. It was a Merry Christmas.

the story continues.

2008-11-18T19:06:00.000-08:00

****read the previous post that I wrote the day before this story happened...***

It is not uncommon for me to hear every dog story. I love dogs. I live life with a dog by my side 24/7. Saturday morning at was at the local coffee shop, JP's, having a coffee and bagel with a friend when a person approached our table and proceeded to tell me that there was a black lab that followed her this morning outside the city pool. I tried to respond with compassion but wondered why she felt the need to tell me.
That is until I left JP's to meet my friend at her store down town 8th street.
I decided to "walk" to her store to cherish the weather before Antarctica air hit and covered the streets with snow and ice.
When I approached the corner of 8th and River and waited for the pedestrian light to give the go ahead I noticed Delsies ears alerting me to something. I followed her gaze and realized a beautiful black lab was slowly galloping toward us to offer a friendly hello. She was spared by the halting of the tires of the cars that almost hit her and allured to the sound of my voice calling her to safety. Once the girl in the wheelchair kicked in to rescue this dog, the eight other on lookers
decided they better ask the disabled girl if she needed some help. Never mind that this beautiful puppy almost got hit!
After I convinced a sweet Hope College student that you could rig up a leash to be used as a collar, we made our way to my friends store. The plan was to give myself some time to think and get this four legged friend out of the cold and away from danger.
Our plan to go Goodwill shopping changed as we drove out to the Humane society to see if a frantic owner had called. After searching the books to come up void, the workers gave her the necessary shots and cleaned her ears so Delsie wouldn't get sick, we returned home.
It wasn't very long before this dog and I bonded.
No accidents in the house, no barking and Delsie even seemed to tolerate her.
This dog was attached to me and I to it. She slept in my bed and made me laugh. I stayed home from church and walked the dogs three times. It was a bit crazy the first time but by our third walk, we had it down pat. We were all a team.
Monday came and I had to go to work. I was a bit sad as I was occupied by her this weekend and so very grateful for the distraction and simple joy she brought to my home.
I returned home for lunch to let her out and received a phone call from "Sarah" telling me the humane society gave her my number and I would give them a lot of happiness if I had their dog. Little did she know the happiness her dog gave me this past weekend.
I tried to reassure her that their dog was safe and happy. We exchanged stories of how the lost and then found happened. I described the dogs silly antics and the similarities in the looks she has with my dog. We then arranged for me to drop off the dog on my way back to work. She was thrilled, I was a tad disappointed.
Before we hung up, I asked her the dogs name.
"Nugget." she replied.

Of course.
Nugget.

dog days.

2008-11-14T20:43:00.000-08:00

When tears stream faster than the sound of laughter and time is both my enemy and friend these days...I attempt to focus on "nuggets" of Gods faithfulness and love for me.
It's so simple in the moment. All I need to do is turn my head to the right and follow the sound of Delsie snoring as she enters REM on her toddler bed for the evening. I can not imagine my life with out her. If she weren't a part of me, I don't think I would get out of my queen size bed.
Yea, my gift of Gods promise for my life is in a dog. Some would find this strange, maybe a bit over the top...but I just see Delsie as pure joy; my nugget.

smelling the flowers.

2008-11-08T12:01:00.000-08:00

We all have a story. Each chapter has a plot; sometimes it's mystery, a drama, a comedy, a thriller and hopefully not a murder. Stories can be a quick read, simple yet entertaining. or they can be quite detailed and rather boring. Some characters create chaos and long for complexity. Other people live for tranquility and hope for serenity. Whatever our life story, it is real to us and alive. The words created on a page are not just words formed out of the alphabet, they have meaning. They have purpose. They create who we are. How our character develops; how our story develops. How the story is told. The readers will listen from their perspective. And we will learn from each and every chapter. Hopefully.

"Just keep on writing even if all you can write is 'life stinks'". I like this quote. Because as I stare at the blank page, I am so scared of the words being formed. So I don't write. I don't move. I am frozen with fear. I become stagnant. I get stuck. If I form the words "Life Stinks", I take a away the power. The power I feel is stripping me of who I am. Making me sad. Allowing my heart to hurt.

So I persevere. I smell the flowers dropped off on my desk at work. I sip coffee with company who loves me. I answer the phone from a caller who asks me how I am doing. I repeat the words, "I love you" a little more and receive the same words back. I force a smile. I let the tears flow. I allow laughter to fill space and float in the silent air. I gaze upon a wall art that reminds
me that God is present. I cling to the prayers being offered. I am in community. A family. I belong.

My story is not finished. This chapter is done. Maybe. Or maybe it is just beginning. The pain is intense. As I lean into it, I cry out for my voice to be heard. Is he listening? But more importantly, am I? It's my story.

cousins halloween party

2008-11-01T21:21:00.000-07:00

I've never got into Halloween but it's fun to see my family into it...

Delsiemeister.

2008-11-01T20:36:00.000-07:00

It's been 8 years since I was introduced to the joy of my life in the training barn at Canine Partners For Life in Cochranville, PA. "Holly, here is your dog, Delsie, do not let anyone touch her or talk to her but you." Megan, her trainer for the past year, handed over the brown leather leash. I sat at a picnic table with the other recipients. I was filled with fear and excitement as this beautiful black lab laid at my feet.
It was quite the journey to get Delsie. As my friend went out to get food for the next three weeks of intensive training, I stayed back in the room at Extend-A-Stay only to vomit the nerves that filled my stomach. That time in my life was the most challenging physically and emotionally yet equally rewarding.
Now in my life, I am up against a challenging time emotionally. My beautiful black lab feels my pain. Now she is the one throwing up the nerves that are oozing out of my body.
I know I will be fine because of Gods faithfulness. Delsie is a tangible reminder of that. She is faithful. She is loyal. She is committed. She loves me. And I love her.
So does my mom as she made this bed under my desk at work...

a method to my madness

2008-10-18T12:22:00.000-07:00

Friday Night. 4 girls. 4 boys. Age 2-12. 11 PM bedtime. 2 AM 2 year old screaming. 7 AM wake up call. Attention span of 5 minutes= birth control.

It was cousins night at Aunt Holly's.

I had a blast but I'm not sure how my sisters do it.

And I don't think Delsie has moved since they left.

oops.

2008-10-18T09:30:00.000-07:00

the joys of having a disability and a service dog.

moments.

2008-10-04T06:51:00.000-07:00

Last night I added my down comforter and even turned on the heat. (which I vowed I wouldn't do until November or December) Last weekend my sister and her family camped out at the State park. It was too hot to sit directly in the sun. My, my, what a week can bring...

...in a second, life can change. Dreams are shattered and the future is scary- in a moment. I live life with shattered dreams, I think we all do to a certain degree. My future is different, unknown and at times I live in fear of that.

God is not a God of fear. He promises me hope. Even though my dream may different, there is hope. I just have to trust that. (easier said than done)

These photos represent that hope God provides for me. The moments that are filled with tears and doubts, I remember my family. God's promise that I belong somewhere in this crazy world.

... a world where I am sitting like I just got off a horse. Yikes.

to write or not to write...

2008-09-28T07:34:00.000-07:00

I am sad this cloudy morning.
You are working a twelve hour day.
again.
The worst thing in my life is feeling like a failure.
We are here because I have a headache.
I am skipping church.
again...

The beginning of the summer I was blessed with the ability to take a creative writing class with Heather Sellers. What a blast.
I am ashamed that I have tucked this experience and lessons I learned in the back of my brain. I am not liking who I am today. I lit my fall candle, skipped church, drank a cup of Moka Java from World Market, stayed in my PJ's and took out my notebook from creative writing this summer with Heather Sellers.
I can breathe again. If I could walk, I would have a pep in my step.
So cheers to Charles Bukowski and writers who live out their dream and write.
You are an inspiration.

One of my pages from my messy notebook:
(encouragement written by Heather)

the 10 steps to focused writing

1. intend to write (no thinking no talking)
2. set your timer
3. tune the soul (poetry is good; prayer, music)
4. review your system for distraction management (you WILL get distracted)
5. align the body and mind
6. surprise the front brain, court the mid-brain:
a) cards
b) lists
c) rituals
d) x-orientation
7. move the hand slowly, don't think just write what you see
8. when you fall out of the groove, slide back in gently
9. stop when the timer goes off no matter what
10. resist the urger to read it over, to judge: build up a habit of concentration, work that muscle, not the muscle of judgement which binds us up.

it's time to work that muscle.

chocolate obsession and B12

2008-09-26T08:50:00.000-07:00

I could sell this stuff and make a mint. Either that or become the poster child for B12. Just like the father in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" who believed Windex was the remedy for every ailment, B12 is the new Windex.
Although my house looks like a meth lab and Brett has a career in nursing shooting me up with B12 injections, I feel like a new woman.
After blood work that proved that I was deficient in B12 and I persuaded my doc and Brett to give me the injections, my life has shifted.

One of the plus' (which are numerous) has been the ability to sleep a full 7-8 hours and wake up without an alarm. Before B12 when 3:00 in the afternoon ticked on, I was tempted to crawl under my desk at work and take a nap on the hairy dog bed with Delsie. After B12, 3:00 signifies 2 more hours at work. It's amazing.

Last night I think my chocolate obsession and B12 were at odds with each other as I read 2 short stories by Rick Bass at 3 in the morning.

My bad. I can live without chocolate. B12 is here to stay.

...I'm back.

2008-09-21T18:03:00.000-07:00

It's been a very long two months without a working laptop. I got the message Saturday at 12:20 that my "new" laptop was read to be picked up. I had it in my possession at 12:30. How sweet it is...let the blogging continue.

seriously.

2008-07-09T14:36:00.000-07:00

I think I may have the cutest nieces and nephews...

...and the greatest sisters and brother-in-laws...

...and the best boyfriend....

...in the whole world.

white hot and 40...

2008-06-30T12:29:00.000-07:00

My sister, Christy, turns the big 4-0 on July 9 and her husband and my other sister, Laurie, pulled off a successful surprise party for her on Friday night. (no small feat with her nose!) She was overwhelmed as was I when I rounded the corner to the back yard and all the guest wore white. The tent was adorned with little white lights, white linen and white candles. Truth be known, I didn't get the whole "wear white" thing but wow- I loved it. and I love my family.

Happy Birthday, Kissy NoBungi!

...5 more years- if I could look half as good.

...follow the yellow brick road...

2008-06-25T07:26:00.000-07:00

I have no clue how this all got started. That is what can be exciting about life. If we just look around for different forks in the road, tap into the courage and discover what is on the other side we shouldn't be disappointed. Sometimes I travel down a particular road and have no clue why and then an "ah-ha" moment appears or then again, maybe not, and I am left as clueless as before. At least I am a little more travelled. Always learning. Life has a lot to teach.

One of the forks in the road has been a writing workshop at Hospice that I signed up for during the month of May. I can't even remember what prompted it or why I even did it. I enjoy writing. I love to be surrounded by hurting people. An opportunity to have the two worlds collide. A fork in the road.

A hour and a half, for eight weeks I met at the Hospice office with eight strangers (well, 6- I knew two of them) and we wrote out our bleeding heart in AWA format/discussion. We laughed, we cried as each of us exposed a window to our soul through the powerful art of writing. A fork in the road I was so happy I took.

The instructor suddenly became this HUGE cheerleader for me. She believed in my writing. She listened to what I wrote. She responded. She told me to take baby steps to my dream. Just follow the forks in the road.

Now I am on a path of taking a summer seminar at HOPE college presented by Heather Sellers. I had no idea how I would be able to cough up the money but I knew I had to keep running the race. After many emails to the faculty at HOPE and my attempts to play the disability card, I ran into a dead end. That is until I received word that anonymous donor paid for me to attend the writing workshop.

I am humbled. I am forever grateful. I am intimidated.

I am going to be under the teaching of a dynamic professor.

Don't put a fork in me just yet...I don't think I'm done.

eating humble pie...

2008-06-19T11:21:00.000-07:00

On certain days I think, is this really my life?! This week (yes, week) has been one of those. If I only had the ability to fast forward over the tough stuff. But then again, I wouldn't be who I am without these 'hiccups'...and I am not giving this dang disability any more credit than that, it's molding me, making me but it is not me and never ever will be.

Two weeks ago I received a phone call from someone who hosts a summer seminary program for 15 students. For the past two summers they have been focusing on the subject of wisdom. This summer the topic is Listening to the Wisdom of the Wise: How God uses suffering to reshape our lives. Okay, I get the suffering part but am I really wise from it all?

On Monday night if these students were in my bathroom when my head caught yet another nasty fall on my bathroom tile, I am not sure they would see a wise person. After feeling the 4 inch goose egg on my forehead and retreating to the kitchen to fill a bag with ice, tears of frustration streamed down my face. I had enough energy to climb into bed and silently weep cries of desperation that this damn disease is invading my life. It's not welcome. I didn't ask for it. Am I wise because of it?

My response to his question if the children would be able to sit at my feet was mixed. It was an honor but I was filled with trepidation as the word wisdom was attached to my suffering. Such pressure.

On Wednesday I met with these students. A couple of times I felt a little lump in my throat as I reflected on my journey so far and how my God loves me and provides for me over and over and over...

In the silence of God, I want to be listening...I often think that's when I hear the most.

That and when I fall on the bathroom tile.

she did it!

2008-06-04T06:58:00.000-07:00

When I was on my death bed (literally) my family became my strength and my #1 cheerleaders...I honestly think I wouldn't be alive today without them.
It is amazing that my sister is alive and still kickin' after running her first marathon at the Notre Dame campus this past weekend. After a near decapitation as a result of a head on collision with a deer at 5 in the morning, no money for a toll booth and Brett and I ALMOST experiencing our first argument, we made it at the 16 mile marker and 20 mile marker to cheer Christy on. As she rounded the corner and she called out "you guys" I couldn't get a word out edge wise. (what does that saying really mean, anyway?) Through my tears, I faintly yelled, "I'm so proud of you, Christy, you can do it!"

...and she did. 26.2 miles.

the sleep over

2008-05-22T08:05:00.001-07:00

Seven great kids under the age of seven. One guy with muscles. Sweatshirts and spring jackets to combat the cool weather. Burnt popcorn from a busted microwave. Video of Ratatouille. and enough love to bust my sides.
Friday I had another cousin sleep over and I am still undecided who had a better time- me or them!
Danika is my competition as she found a place in Brett's "not to sure of kids" heart.
In the morning we all walked to Donutville and the conversation went something like this:
me: "okay, you guys, when we get there we need to remember our please and thank-yous. I am going to get each of you a donut but not a drink. I know you're going to be thirsty but we'll get something to drink back at my house."
um, after all the please and thank-yous this cheap but proud aunt gave in. chocolate milk for all!
after we settled in the booth for our sugar high, Jagger looked at me with a smirk and his big blue eyes:
Jagger: "you lied, aunt holly".
the conversation then covered aspects of a good lie and a bad one...hmmmm, I think this is one their parents can explain.
all I know is that I love my nephews and nieces. A lot.

dog lady and tulips

2008-05-11T11:44:00.000-07:00

I did it.
I went crazy taking photos of Delsie and the tulips.
I just may die known as the dog lady with big hair.
I'd be okay with that if it were on my tombstone.
As long as she is buried next me,
Wow- what a digression.
I love this dog.

a taste of the z's

2008-05-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

This video of Delsie snoring does not do it justice. But hopefully you will get a glimpse of D dog relaxing in her bed after a hard day of work. Even though her "work" entails snoring under my desk while I am at work! As D is getting older I am getting more nostalgic of moments like these. I love having her in my life and am so thankful she is a part of me- me legs, my heart, my strength....and the list goes on. I know no one is able to truly understand what she means to me but it is my hope that you get a kick out of her "z's" like I do...

i must remember.

2008-05-06T18:09:00.000-07:00

I never want to forget the time in my life when I was staring out the window of the hospital for three months and confined to four walls while life seem to pass me by. I never want to forget the tears that flowed down my cheeks as I saw the Adams Street exit after a month and a half at U of M hospital knowing that I was on the road to recovery and returning home.

I am reminded of the "good" moments when I pass by these tulips amongst the weeds at the end of my street. It is a photo in my mind to remind myself that I am breathing. I feel the fresh air, the gentle breeze on my face. Its a reminder that I can eat. I am able to laugh. I can cry when it hurts and knowing tomorrow is a new day. I don't have IV's coming out of both arms and not rushing to the bathroom every two seconds.

I love this photo cuz it reminds me of Gods loyalty in my life. Even in the weeds He grows beautiful tulips- year after year. I never want to forget that so I am thankful that when I see sights like this, I won't forget.

bubble baths...

2008-05-02T13:47:00.000-07:00

My doorbell chimes over a 100 different tunes but no one rings it. In my house, you just walk in. I have never heard Delsie bark...I totally lucked out- that isn't always the case with a service dog and my phone is set to one soft beep when someone calls. I choose to live a simple and quiet life. (accompanies the joy of living alone)
With all the peaceful bliss in my life it may seem like a mystery as to why I need to end the evening with a bubble bath in my huge tub. I am sure you have never wondered about my evening ritual or even care to know this random fact but humor me as I vent.
Although my life is not surrounded by chaos, I look forward to the evening as I fill my tub with bubbles and help circulate the blood that this darn chair has taken away from me.
I have found a 'jug" of bubble bath at Wal-Mart for a little over a dollar. But laziness and the cost of gas won out and I 'walked' over to Walgreens. The only option my budget could afford was this BOX of Calgon. This purchase has bothered me on many levels. Seriously, a box?! And this photo- we are in the 2000's, people.
But my biggest disappointment has been the lack of bubbles and the blue haze it creates in the water two seconds after I pour it in the cascading water. I am to cheap to but another jug until I finish this box. Until then, Colgon? Take it away!

...and there's more...

2008-04-14T19:06:00.000-07:00

I seriously can not get enough of this. It makes me smile. Hope you are too.

how do i press pause on my life?

2008-04-13T18:08:00.000-07:00

one minute I am sweating pool side in eighty degree weather,
the next I am shivering flying to forty degree weather.

how is this possible?
better yet, why do I live in Michigan?

a perfect week.
my bones got warm.

oh, how things change when children are part of your life.
entertainment in a condo in florida with eighteen bodies take on a whole new meaning when my nieces and nephews put on a talent show. despite that i am a drama coach (as kennedy calls me) i am quite proud of their show. my one year old niece, danika, has got the moves! and cole and chase provide the beat.

i know i am biased but it was the best form of entertainment your money can buy and it was even free!

give it to mommy she can do anything!

2008-04-01T16:42:00.001-07:00

Truth be known, I have never referred to my mom as "mommy". Not even in my growing up years. That would be odd. I am not saying that those who call their mom, "mommy" are odd, mind you. For me, it doesn't seem right. Just like my dad is dad- never "daddy". I think my dad referred to himself in a conversation with me as "daddy" once and I started laughing and said in question, "Did you just call yourself "daddy"??! He laughed too. But that may be for a later post...

My MOM has deemed the add "just give it to Mikey, he'll eat anything" in a whole new realm. When I moved into my house I had some great ideas and let me stress the word ideas. They quickly fell into the category of wishes that were unattainable as my feeble attempts to execute them failed miserably. One of my many brainstorms I had found on the internet (HCTV?-Jeremy put me onto it) when I was remodeling the bathroom. A sample video showed a shower curtain in which you inserted grommets into a clear liner to display photos. Simple. I traveled to many places to find just the right grommets and shower curtain. It couldn't be that hard. Wrong.

After blaming it on my coordination difficulties due to this darn disability and attempting to pass the buck to two or three innocent friends, I knew that my lack of coordination wasn't the problem. The challenge was recreating this "simple" craft of making a creative shower curtain. I came to the realization that the dollar one that wasn't wide enough and didn't match that I purchased at Bibles For Mexico would suffice. This brainiac idea for a cool shower curtain was a thing of the past- a fleeting idea. That is until my "mommy" showed up this weekend with the project completed. Seriously, my mom can do anything.

March madness.

2008-03-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

Easter Sunday was a busy one. Not only did we recognize and honor the day that Jesus gave us life, we celebrated the birth of my mom, Brecken, Jagger and Cole. After our tradition of egg knocking (my mom won) and guessing the amount of jelly beans in a jar (I won- picked the exact number! 546!- I should have bought a lottery ticket that day!), we made our way over to the Doubletree Hotel so my nieces and nephews could go swimming. My dad even saved the chocolate chip cookie for me- that is the best thing about that hotel!

Although I feel much too old to exert the energy required to hop in the pool for ten minutes, Kennedy brought me down memory lane as I watched her style her hair under water. Remembering doing this as a kid?

Oh, the innocence. The imagination. The lack of inhibitions. I miss that.

promises of spring?

2008-03-29T09:07:00.001-07:00

It just won't go away. Every morning I have high hopes of opening my door to the warmth of spring. Instead, I typically am greeted with a blast of arctic air and another inch of snow. In these rare occasions of the sun shining, I caught this red cardinal (trust me, it's red- I just couldn't get close for fear of getting stuck for the third time!) who was probably swearing under it's breath as it attempted to retrieve the grains of food with its beak pecking through the fallen 10 inches of snow. I am sorry little red cardinal, I'd invite you to come inside for warmth but I can't afford to heat my home any longer.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING PHOTOS MAY BE DISTURBING. VIEW AT YOUR OWN RISK.

The rays of sunshine streaming around my angelic dog are a promise of spring around the corner...

...as well as the pile of poop in the porch.

It's all a matter of perspective.
pooper scooper, anyone?

God's up to something...

2008-03-21T12:53:00.000-07:00

Jo sent me this in her excitement as I sent her this email of a news clip I saw on the TODAY show.
I was still in bed wiping the sleepies from my eyes when this clip played on the TODAY show this morning.
I do believe God is up to something, Jo.
I need to meet Gabe and Izzy. It's all part of my refiners fire. Just click on the video clip of "A Woman's Best Friend".

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032633/

...and if you know Gabe, please make the introductions.

'tis the season...

2008-03-09T13:13:00.001-07:00

Thanks to a friend that I worked with over ten years ago, Dave Horne left a bag of Cadbury Mini Eggs on my desk. I was forever hooked. Even more so when I discovered that they are only available during the Easter season. Excitement is certainly in the air when I hear the sound of birds chirping, the sight of grass peaking through the melting snow and the task of setting the clocks...Spring ahead!

But nothing can match the feeling of purchasing my first bag of mini eggs. This year it was a mini bag of mini eggs from Walgreens as my tight budget doesn't allow for spending such as chocolate covered candies. It is not a necessity but definitely a treat! I think it is even more a delight as they only appear as a reminder of good things to come!

the biggest loser

2008-03-03T16:56:00.000-08:00

The day of the pageant started at 1:47 Saturday morning when things were coming out of both ends. The year long celebration of not throwing up in my new home was over. I called mom and "bless her heart" she came over and held the bowl and my hair while I tried to hold myself up. After a very long night of purging everything in my body, my alarm sounded and I knew the show had to go on.

After a full day of private interviews by a panel of judges, a lesson in self-defense (no-lie) and many trips to the freezing restroom the gala began. I had to deliver my speech first followed by the other contestants. We then were asked to draw a judges name from a hat and answer a serious and humorous question from that judge. My humorous question: "Like the TV show, The Biggest Loser, (but not talking about weight) who would you consider The Biggest Loser?

HUH?! I replied, "Hopefully not me after tonight!" I got the laughs but obviously not the points from the judges...I am not wearing the title of Miss Wheelchair Michigan.

What I am wearing is a bit more clarity as to what God wants me to do. I got a bigger nudge in a different direction I should take. I swallowed a bit of my pride. I grew a bit more determined. This chapter is over and this path is a dead end but the road ahead is big. I just have to keep traveling. I felt and still feel the support and love of family and friends. That's all I need...

...and for this darn flu bug to fly away.

the pressure's on...

2008-02-28T09:25:00.000-08:00

maybe I can make my parents proud this Saturday just as proud as Miss South Carolina's...

hot pockets and TiVo

2008-02-27T12:58:00.000-08:00

The other day I sat down for my delicious microwave dinner of a ham-n-cheese hot pocket and the company of my TiVo. As I half heartily chose an episode of Dr. Phil I became perplexed with his panel of doctors he had on the show to discuss the case of a severe anorexic and bulimic 28 year old woman (which almost made me throw up). I felt like I knew one of the doctors, I mean REALLY knew, like I've had a cup of coffee with him at JP's. The kind of prompting that I felt like he and I have had in depth conversations and I have seen a glimpse of who he really was. I began to sit up straighter and focused more on the TV set in my attempt to figure out in what venue I had become acquainted with Dr. Travis Stork.

My excitement increased as I googled his name. I was filled with pride as I soon would discover that I had bragging rights- I hung out with someone on Dr. Phil!

It became clear as the photo of the guest doctor on this talk show appeared on the page. I was mortified.

My buddy, Travis, was the bachelor on season 8.

Not sure what's more humiliating. That I admitted I TiVo Dr. Phil or that I am that I am obsessed with the lives of each of the bachelors.

Needless to say my appetite for my hot pocket was squelched with the 60 lb woman who measured her thighs with a wrist watch and threw up until there was blood.

Not so sure TiVo is a good thing in my life. And I am "OD"ed on hot pockets.

...here she comes...

2008-02-17T10:43:00.001-08:00

She made me do it. My friend, Lynne, emailed me with an idea. After falling out of my chair from laughter, a week later I applied for "Miss Wheelchair Michigan." No lie. There is such a thing and I actually agreed to send my application in for the pageant at Aquainis College next month.

I am whitening my teeth, wearing the tiarra (thanks, Schneids) and practicing the runway wave. Let me stress that this is not a beauty pageant but one that captures the importance of a platform and the advocacy of living with a disability.

This weekend Lynne took me shopping for the perfect outfit- she is having a hard time convincing me that a jogger suit is not appropriate.

It's an all day competition where I will be interviewed by a panel of judges for a total of twenty minutes. It concludes with a gala in which family and friends can attend a dinner while the contestants perform a two minute speech on their platform.

Am I really doing this?
The word pageant and wheelchair and ME in the same sentence.
Hilarious...

keeping perspective...

2008-02-13T11:27:00.000-08:00

Put a fork in me. I'm done. I can adorn the name "Debbie Downer" or "Eyore" or "Pessimistic Peggy". I officially loathe winter.

I am a huge advocate of keeping life in perspective; maintaining a balance; utilizing the strengths and defeating the negative.

I officially have failed. The test can be over. I admit defeat.

I awoke to my radio this morning as the DJ repeatedly instilled the word 'warm' in my brain. "There is a warm up, folks. Today will be in the 20's."

I don't know what your body tempature does when calculating the degree of 20 but mine does not fair well.

While processing the weather and excitement of the potential of sun and trying to pick out my waredrobe for the day (wondering if I could bust out the flip-flops and mini-skirt) I bit the dust.

Once AGAIN my forehead encountered the bathroom tile only to fabricate a huge goose egg above my right eye.

I settled for three layers, a scarf and corduroys while attempting to ice the "bump" with frozen peas and brush my teeth.

It was at this point that I had to remind myself of keeping things in perspective...20 degrees IS warmer than a windchill of -11. And the goose egg on my forehead is not even close to the injuries I've sustained. The show must go on.

But Debbie Downer still hates winter. And Eyore is going crazy watching Delsie stare out the front window. Pessemistic Peggy is sick of being cold.

I guess it's all relative.

The snow will melt and this body will be made new...oh, what a glorious day that will be! (on both accounts)

2008-02-03T08:21:00.000-08:00

The stage was set, the lights were on and the camera's were rolling...

This weekend I tried to live up to favorite Aunt status and have my nephew and nieces sleep over- all eight of them. (Alex stayed home for some peace and quiet and the comforts of his own bed)

It certainly wasn't quiet but I did sleep in my own bed while they slept on the family room floor. (oh, to be young) Dankia didn't sleep over (she's 1 1/2 ) but stayed until 11 so her mom and dad could enjoy one another.

This video was taken in the morning after we woke up at 6:30. (ouch) It was a continuation of the talent show from he night before. The stage was my stool and the performers waited their turn behind the curtain.

Chase recorded his 7 year old brother, Cole, performing in beat box style "Usher".
Although every performer received a perfect score of ten, Kennedy was struggling as a judge as she whispered in my ear after he finished, "I might have to give him 9.5 because he coughed."

In addition to his performance, Cole prayed for our dinner the night before: "Dear Jesus, help us have a good time at Aunt Holly's and help her not be alone after we leave."

...I think it's gotta be a tradition.

cousins.

2008-01-30T09:31:00.001-08:00

I don't have any cousins. I didn't realize how strange that was until I got older and now as I watch my nine nieces and nephews love on one another.

On the 18th, the LeBlano clan headed over to Detroit for my Grandpas memorial service. We stayed in a hotel for the weekend. Once again, I was able to enjoy the perks of being in a wheelchair and requiring an accessible room- the room was HUGE! I have stayed in a lot of hotels but I have never had the pleasure of staying in a "suite" like this. It came with a kitchen, a sitting area, cathedral ceilings and a separate place for the bed and TV.

Needless to say, it was the hang out and the cousins were excited. Three of them wanted to spend the night in Aunt Holly's room and I loved every minute of it. It was late and I knew they were getting tired but I didn't want to squelch the spontaneity of the conversation. After discussing poop (don't all conversations revert to this?) and whether or not I could walk if I really tried (do they think I'm faking?) Kennedy sighed long and loud. "Why the sigh, Kennedy?"
"What a unique opportunity, Aunt Holly."
I looked over to see her taking it all in with her hand resting behind her head,"What do you mean?" I asked.
She exhaled again, "To stay in a castle like this. What an opportunity."

How right you are, Kennedy.
Thanks for reminding me to be thankful for life's unique opportunities...like cousins.

Here's to many more sleep overs at Aunt Holly's. I want it to be your castle.

my love for the theatre.

2008-01-08T13:09:00.000-08:00

I can't explain it. Something happens inside of me as I enter a theatre and the curtain lifts. It is so exciting. So refreshing. For a couple of hours I am removed from reality and transported to the lives that are performed on the stage. It is home to me. A comfortable place. Somewhere that I feel I belong. No words can describe it.

This flame was sparked in me in my elementary days when my parents would take the family to a dress rehearsal on a school night (a BIG deal when your dad was a principal) and traveled five hours to Grand Rapids for an evening at the civic theatre. We would arrive early and split a pack of peanut M & M's (among 6 people) and try to work on homework that was assigned for that evening. Leaving the theatre, I would fall asleep in the back of our blue station wagon as we journeyed home back to Holland.

It wasn't until my adult years did I realize Grand Rapids was only a half hour away and Wednesdays were "cheap" nights. In order to secure a seat, you had to arrive at least two hours ahead of show time. And a bag of M &M's was probably only a quarter back then.

I didn't care. I don't care now. That is where it all started. I was bit by the theatre bug.

I was reminded of this passion in me last night as my mom treated me to a show at Hope College as one of my birthday presents, Rose and the Rime. It was phenomenal. Even more so when you knew that it was written and produced by students at Hope.

My disability is obvious. It's been life changing and down right irritating at times. I often wonder if I would have pursued the stage more if this obstacle didn't present its ugly head.

For now, I sit back and try to take it all in and relish in the fact that my love for theatre didn't leave with the use of my legs. I am happy that I can be transposed into a world that invokes such emotion.

Thanks, mom and dad, for the wonderful birthday present. Thanks for fostering my love for the theatre.

I'm forever grateful.

Giving Thanks in 2008.

2007-12-31T20:57:00.000-08:00

While millions are in time square watching the ball drop, one girl is stuck on her deck.
Let me back up:
I had a fabulous birthday. I can honestly say that. My mom and dad brought over omelets in the morning that we prepared in a Ziploc bag and Christy, Ken, Brecken, Kennedy, Laurie, Danika, Jagger, Kaia and TJ came over too. (the O's were in Florida)
After moms wonderful brownies and three cups of Louisiana coffee, the family left and my mom and I were on our way to purchase a sign for my house from Home & Company with gift certificates and birthday money. I have been eyeing this sign since the summer and knew it would make a great birthday celebration and a good reminder to bring in the new year as it reads, IN EVERYTHING GIVE THANKS.
Believe me, I needed this reminder shortly after I returned home from a dinner party tonight. I had left the gathering two hours before the end of 2007. On my drive home I was looking forward to soaking in my two man tub, getting in my PJ'S and falling asleep to the countdown of this past year in bed. It was while these thoughts stirring in my head, that I was in awe of the beauty of the freshly fallen snow and the way in which it engulfed the trees. As much as I complain about the winter and loathe being cold, I have to admit tonight was one of those nights that I feel bad for people who have never seen or heard winter. (yes, winter like tonight has a sound of peacefulness)
What better way to "freeze" the moment then to capture some photos...this is where it all began...an opportunity to choose 'thanks' over circumstances that would otherwise be extremely irritating.
I started snapping pictures in the front of my house as the thought occurred to me that it would be quite possible I could get stuck. No problem taking these photos from my snow covered driveway...my confidence grew. I entered the house and proceeded to the back door to let Delsie do her business one last time. I, again, was in awe of God's beauty and wanted a photo of D-dog in the white winter snow. It's at this time that it would be appropriate for me to tell you that the snow is wet and heavy- perfect for snowballs and snowman, not so good for girls in wheelchairs.
D took her spot on the corner of the deck and I put the chair in reverse, I heard the sound of tires spinning. I wasn't going anywhere. With the snow falling and temperatures dropping, Delsie gave up on me and retreated to her bed inside the house. (Did I mention the door to my house was wide open?) After what felt like hours but actually was 15 minutes, I realized this rocking business in high speed was getting me nowhere. I called friends that live nearby who came to my rescue...remember:IN EVERYTHING GIVE THANKS...

I'm off to take a bath and thank God for family, friends, wheelchairs and snow.
Happy 2008.

Christmas memories.

2007-12-27T08:50:00.000-08:00

Approaching the New Year, which happens to be my birthday, produces a range of emotions. I have discovered that these emotions are highly dictated by the weather. (or should I say lack of sunshine.)

I am going through this day with a huge lump in my throat to be popped by some poor soul who innocently asks a question what I interpret as offensive or makes a statement that would be funny any other day but today would result in an outburst of tears. Maybe this is why I am not married. God wants to spare the poor guy of unfounded emotional abuse.

A day like today, I am a prime candidate for an episode of Dr. Phil and would embrace his advice and welcome his direct sarcasm.

Until then, I reflect on the year 2007 and play Josh Groban on high decibels on itunes. Tomorrow is a new day. The sun may come out. 2008 will be greeted with hopes and anticipation of Gods best.

IMAGINE.

2007-12-17T17:32:00.001-08:00

Imagine the birth of our savior. A little tiny baby that changes the world.

"Genius. Pure genius."

This is my favorite line in this years production of Imagine Christmas.
(www.imaginechristmas.info) It is daunting, exhilarating, stressful, challenging yet extremely humbling to be a part in producing the single most powerful happening in ones life.

Working with the "worshippers" (20 children) has been my favorite experience so far. They are thrilled to be on stage and so teachable and wanting to please. They "act" out seeing Mary carrying baby Jesus for the first time. How in the world do you direct that?

"Genius. Pure genius."

Because we had no one to take over the role of costume designer this fell under my responsibility along with another director, Kim. I have had no prior education in costuming a show even though I minored in Theatre- one would think.

I have to admit it has been a blast. I am not sure it is because I am not spending my own money or the enjoyment of hunting for a bargain or discovering packages at my door for the past five days or shopping online...I love every minute.

Granted, I have yet to see the final product on stage as Wednesday is our first dress rehearsal but I can only imagine that God is going to be glorified...

that is my humble yet hopeful prayer.

Gramps.

2007-12-09T13:19:00.000-08:00

I love these photos. It was the last time I saw my gramps alive. I made him smile and he let me take these photos- which he always held his hand over his face when the camera came out. I can't even count how many photos we have of gramps and his hand...

The end of August Gramps was in a nursing home recovering AGAIN- honestly, I can't remember what prompted Gram to call 9-1-1. Which doesn't take much at all. We are convinced they knew her by name. Between their neighbor and gramps failing health, the numbers of 9-1-1 are faded on her rotary phone.

After many trips to the hospital, nursing homes and his disobedient body, Gramps died on Friday, December 7. He was 91.

Gram and Gramps met when she was 18 and he was 23. They married that year. Gram now is 86 and doesn't know life without him. It is for this reason I am sad. I hurt for her and feel an ounce of her ache as the man she knew as her husband for sixty eight years is no longer on this earth.

I am thrilled for Gramps. He's with Jesus now. I am confident of that and at times jealous of it. He doesn't have to be transferred anymore. He doesn't have the shakes and I am sure he doesn't smell of BO. His voice is strong and I am sure he and Miss Lynn (Grandma Le Blanc) have introduced themselves.

It has been a difficult six years as his body defied him yet his mind grew sharper by the day. With the exception of introducing me to a nurse as his handicapped daughter in law and referring to my hair do on this particular visit as "tou-tou pigtails", (that's what he's laughing about in this photo) Gramps was on top of it all.

We'll take good care of Gram, Gramps. Don't worry about that. If you can just prompt her to move to this side of the state we will surround her with company- there won't be any time for her to get lonely.

Thank you, Gramps for raising your daughter, allowing me to be blessed with an amazing mom. I know you are proud of her. Thanks for being a father my dad never had. I know the two of you never talked about it but I know my dad is forever grateful.

...and Gramps, thanks for loving me and my sisters, your only grandchildren. You left a legacy for us. You gifted us over and over. You blessed us with your prayers.
I took pride in making you laugh, Gramps. Your smile melted my heart.

I will never forget that.
I will never forget you.

...until we meet again.

weekend plans.

2007-11-18T11:28:00.000-08:00

This may sound a bit odd to some who may loath a basket full of dirty clothes but I was thrilled to do laundry this weekend. I am not certain if this a good indication of my lack of social life or the independence this house is offering. Let's focus on the later- a little less depressing.

When I designed the remodel I knew I wanted a place for my washer and dryer. It has been over three years that this part of my life has not been do-able. Thanks to a mom who has been faithfully taking baskets back and forth, the time has come for me to will this task back in my life.

The blueprints of it all seemed to be a great idea. That was until I discovered that my sister gave me a bum dryer and it takes over four hours to dry a medium size load of wet clothes.

I have made my three bedroom home into a two bedroom home with an accessible bathroom. Because stairs are not a reality for me, my washer and dryer have their own closet in my bedroom.

I actually was looking forward to the chores of laundry on Saturday morning. If only it were just the morning. The morning became afternoon and afternoon became evening which turned into a 3:00 in the morning task of once again starting the dryer for another 70 minute session while the load in the washer were quickly loosing their mountain breeze Tide smell.

Not only is my social life lacking, it's not such a joy to do the laundry anymore.
I'm off to take a nap without the sound of the dryer buzzer going off...

making memories

2007-11-10T16:27:00.001-08:00

D-dog wasn't thrilled to be the source of entertainment for Davy but when you have a toyless house and a 1 yr old, what do you expect?
When I speak of my years at Hope College I am quick to admit that only positive thing that came from it was my friendship with Tricia aka Chiquita aka Trixy (which I called her this name in front of her 11th grade Chemistry students-not a good idea, I got the look) Life has offered each of us entirely different experiences but it is great that we pick up where we leave off.
Thanks Trix, for introducing Davy to me. I can't wait to meet Kingston.

tommorow is monday

2007-11-04T10:16:00.001-08:00

This is what "my boss" had on his feet the other day when he showed up for work. I know there is a logical explanation. The shoes are similar in nature. They are both loafers and they are both brown. It was probably dark when he grabbed the shoes in the morning. My question is this: couldn't he feel the difference in the ways they molded to his feet?

It's Sunday afternoon and I am already longing for this day to last forever. I know I had an extra hour of sleep. I know there is a logical explanation when I awake to my alarm clock blaring country tunes. I have a mortgage and utilities to pay. I work to live. My question is this: aren't I weary of feeling the monotony of work?

I am the one sporting the look of being a misfit. Sometimes I wish it was as simple as changing my shoes...until then, I keep looking for the pennies to put in the slits.

dreaming big

2007-10-27T15:24:00.001-07:00

Ever since Delsie and I became a team, I made a mental note that we were going to always educate people when the opportunity presented itself. Today I was asked to perform in a womans conference that carried the title, "in The Spirit of Truth". For some reason, this has prompted me to acknowledge the lies that I listen to when I am dreaming big. Delsie and I have appeared on TV, the radio and numerous classrooms of elementary and middle schools. I don't know the impact, if any, we have made but I do know I need to stop listening to the lies and listen to my dreams...it's never too late.

This photo was taken a couple of weeks ago as Miss Kempf asked me and D to visit her 3rd grade classroom. It was the first class to hear my book. As Miss Kempf began to read it, I saw a 3rd grader eyes as big as saucers while he nudged a classmate seated next to him asking, "she's an author?!!".

After today I know I'm more than author...I am a child of God.

Hail, no!

2007-10-18T18:04:00.001-07:00

Weather is a universal language. We all resort to it as a "pick-me-up" in a conversation that seems to be going nowhere. After tonight's weather people are going to have A LOT to talk about tomorrow around the water cooler. (and yes, my office has a water cooler)

These photos were taken about ten minutes ago. If you can't make it out, these are piles of hail accumulated on my deck. The weather is BIZARRE.

After work I took D for a walk while it was in the high 70's. I spray painted a lamp in my back yard and it was sunny yet windy. A half hour later the TV stations are saturated with warnings. Another half an hour and the rain is coming down in sheets. It is during this time that my dear friend, Chris, calls to say he is coming over to move my outdoor furniture to the garage. Thank goodness he did because I think the table with the umbrella would have smashed through my kitchen window tonight. It's now lightening and thundering...with intermittent down pours...

this is meteorologist Holly, signing off...

obsession.

2007-10-09T22:48:00.001-07:00

Meet Brad Womack. The 11th bachelor for the TV show, The Bachelor. It is about this time that I become infatuated with the guy who ABC has chosen to find that one true love. Call me a hopeless or hopeful? (I never really understand why it is called hopeless) romantic but it is typically this time in the season that I grow to love the guy. It is usually with every dramatic rose ceremony that I have convinced myself that I would be offered the rose, take him to my home town and share all his one on one dates with him if he only would have met me. I certainly wouldn't cry on camera about how I want to be married and pregnant. I wouldn't boast about being a Christian girl while he is doing a body shot off of me. I would pride myself on not calling the other girls names as I understood that going into it my chances were one out of twenty-five.

Let's face it. I would thrive on being the therapist in the limo, talking with the girl who thought they would spend the rest of their life with him but instead, just got kicked to the curb. I realize this addiction that I have to the whole process is wrong. I get that.

What I don't get this season is Brad. I am just not into him. Don't get me wrong, his body is to die for but his inflections would drive this girl to drink. I feel no substance to him.

Andy Baldwin(season 10 bachelor), will you accept this rose because you still have my heart. I heard you and Tessa broke off the engagement...

Thanks to my TiVo and a lame social life, I will be watching every episode until Brad chooses his love in what is seen as the most dramatic season of The Bachelor.

pumpkinfest

2007-10-07T08:25:00.001-07:00

The first week of October marks a "festival" titled Pumkinfest in Zeeland.

Thursday was "Dinner On Us". The "us" part referred to the city council of Zeeland.

I think I've had three corn dogs my entire life. And I know why. The council certainly gets an "A" for effort. (or is that an "E"?)
The line for the free food went about as fast as my consumption of the corn dog. (I think the grease made it slide quick)

This year's theme was "stars of hollywood". Various "pumpkin statues" adorned the corners and you had to guess the actor. Although I wanted to be the winner of the free trip to Hollywood, it was next to impossible to see the resemblance in most of them.

I am so glad I am part of a family who can find amusement in anything we do. Pumpkinfest just happened to be the backdrop.

They tried.

I love her.

2007-10-06T20:59:00.000-07:00

Seriously, I love her.
(I love my sister too but I am referring to Danika, my youngest niece)
Who in their right mind wouldn't?

My sister?I am in awe of Lo and her "skills" at motherhood.
I would have never wrote her book to include being a stay-at-home
mom to four kids under the age of seven but she is doing it with
such grace and style.

I am so proud to be an aunt of nine incredible nephews and nieces not to mention how grateful I am to be their moms' sister!

sleeping.

2007-09-26T19:01:00.001-07:00

we all do it. some more than others. there are those who last through the night. others don't move a muscle. i've heard incoherent babble or even complete conversations. majority choose to be on their side and then others on their back. no one will admit to snoring while partners point the finger of blame.

getting ready for bed is my favorite time of the day. some mornings i wake up knowing i can do it all over again later that night. i have defined myself as a light sleeper and only lay on my back with my arms at my side. when i lived with my friend tiffany she told me she had to place a mirror under my nose to make certain i was still breathing. (which is hard to believe since i know i am a light sleeper) i can honestly say i have never had a nightmare and hardly every remember my dreams. i tend to zone out when people tell me their dreams in detail. that's something for you to keep to yourself.
my dog, delsie, runs in her sleep. people say she is chasing rabbits- how do they know?! sometimes she snores or even yelps.

from the conversation that i had with tiffany today, her mom was chasing rabbits too. but instead of yelping, she was repeating at the top of her lungs...OOOOOooooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOO...high then low. i can't wait to watch it on YouTube!

anxious to climb in bed. my favorite time of the day.

it only takes a spark, to get a fire going...

2007-09-18T16:45:00.001-07:00

Passions. God gives them to us, we have the responsibility of figuring out how we are to use them to glorify Him.

On Friday, I felt like I witnessed first hand my friend Mary Jo doing just that. In return, I came away with some very cool items to decorate my home.

Jo opened up her store (seedlings) for an evening and 100% of the sales went to friends who feel lead to the mission field.

If you stop and think about it something incredible happened...Jo's passion of altered art fueled our friends passion for missions which sparked my passion of making my house a home!

Um, mine sounds the most selfish!

Here's some of the great finds....

I love to be around people who encourage me to find my passions...I'm getting closer.

the good, the bad, the ugly of Friedrich's Ataxia.

2007-09-17T16:56:00.000-07:00

the good: I always get the good parking spaces.

the bad: Falling on my bathroom tile while trying to do the simple task of standing.

the ugly: My forehead after it caught my fall on Saturday.

once again, I am soooooooooooooooo blessed with all the people in my life and the love and encouragement they show me.

this photo doesn't do it justice. i look like a character from startrek and can't move my neck.
but other than that, I am fine.
it could have been so much worse.

dog days

2007-09-10T17:21:00.001-07:00

It was the first night in my new bedroom. Along with the move came a white shabby chic comforter. I stress the word WHITE. With a black dog that sheds like there is no tomorrow and her habit to sleep on the majority of my bed, I bit the bullet. The vanity of a new comforter has won out. I was searching high and low for the perfect bed for Delsie- mainly to help with my guilt.
The search ended when I was at my sisters garage sale this weekend. I spotted her toddler bed that she used in raising her three boys. Although I haven't given birth to her, the bed is now being put to good use as Delsie aka Princess, is breaking it in.
The poor dog on the floor (at least I found a cute blanket for her) is Jasper- my parents dog. She is great. Although she lifts her leg when she goes #1...can't figure that out.

the end of an era

2007-09-06T21:55:00.001-07:00

I have no idea what would define an era but this remodeling thing is in the home stretch. I hope I don't enter a time of depression as the outlet to make decisions and decorate is coming to an end. It has been a blast. Even the drywalling at 7 in the morning...(okay, that's a lie but I made it to the other side) Poor Jeremy came to visit on the WORST weekend of this project. He has got to come back and see the completed version.
Today the floor was installed-the last of the big projects!
...I moved in February 6 and 7 months later the only thing that remains is the back splash in the kitchen!
I'll be doing laundry again soon and quite frankly, am excited about that!

...in the genes.

2007-09-03T19:02:00.001-07:00

Before you think I am the cruelest person for posting this photo of my mom, allow me to explain.
We were on our way from Detroit- we picked my grandma up to get some R & R in Holland for a few days. Gram was sitting in the front of the Le Blano van, gabbing away with my dad while I fell asleep next to my mom. I knew that during my cat nap I was catching flies as when I woke my mouth did not have one ounce of saliva. Not only did I awake with cotton mouth but the sounds of snickering from my mom as she told me that my mouth was wide open when I was sleeping. I knew she wasn't exaggerating as I found it nearly impossible to swallow until I took a few sips of my water.
It was only a few minutes after I wiped the sleepers from my eyes that I noticed my mom reclining her chair, closing her eyes and you guessed it...catching the flies that I missed.
Not only could my mom hear me snickering but she could feel the flash of my camera.
Th acorn doesn't fall far from the tree. What goes around, comes around.

It's the life?

2007-09-02T19:14:00.001-07:00

The evening involved seven people crammed in a booth at Applebee's. After I lowered the handle on Delsie's harness, I watched my friends squirm as D-dog found just the right spot between the huge supporting metal bar in the middle of the table and the 14 hot, smelly feet packed underneath the booth.

Heaven forbid she is an inconvenience to someone and their space while she digs her harness into their shin bone or shakes while her 85 lb. paw steps on the middle of your bare foot...I've gotten the dirty looks for Delsie over the years. And their dirty cuz they are from friends.
People can glare at me all they want...I got your back, D, don't worry.

It took her a minute to find her spot underneath the table at Applebee's and a few glares while she positioned herself just right. As we ate our meal, I forgot about her. Upon conclusion of my mozzarella sticks, I glanced down to see my cute service dog doin' her thing...enjoying her life.

Man, I love this dog.
Yes, my shins are bruised and I am not thinking the nicest things when she steps on my foot, but it is so worth it.

LOOK AT THE MOON!

2007-09-01T19:26:00.001-07:00

One night I went to the movies with my sister and brother-in-law and when we were driving home, my brother said in a really odd, low, drawn out voice, "LOOK AT THE MOON!" It scared the pants off my sister and I. And became a common quote among the three of us.

The other night I was sitting out on my deck and repeated the phrase, "LOOK AT THE MOON!" Delsie looked at me as oddly as my sister and I must have looked at my brother-in-law when he saw the moon as crisp and bright as I did the other evening.

I snapped these photos and realized they don't do justice with the moment I had with nature that night. And the revelation that the photography class with Tiff can't come soon enough. The check mark IS the moon but taken with the "night" setting. Nice, huh?

living on the edge

2007-08-25T19:25:00.000-07:00

It was a risk. Better Homes and Garden magazine has spurred me on with ideas. As I envisioned my bedroom- I wanted it to be "girly". It's ironic because I pride myself on NOT being "girly". Hhhhmmm, there's something deeper there- maybe a later post.
Picking out color has been a blast. After one failed attempt on a brown for my bathroom and hallway book shelf, I landed on something a bit more bold and LOVE it.
My bedroom evokes guys to roll their eyes and girls say with perky eyes, it is great!
I feared failure with my ideas of stripes. Should the stripe be 11 inches? 13? No bigger than 15- I had no clue what I was talking about! Thanks to my mom and some friends, 15 inch blue sash stripes adorn a wall in my girly bedroom.
And fear has no walls. (that makes no sense but I thought it sounded cool)
I'm taking risks.

WEENIES FOR ALL

2007-08-24T19:25:00.001-07:00

On any given day if you open my fridge, you'll find an old 2 liter of soda (I don't drink pop) and paint brushes and rollers and a ketchup bottle turned upside down.

If you were to open my fridge this weekend, you would find this. Weenies for all. The paint brushes had to be moved to accomodate the 600 hot dogs.

I am not going to have a contest to see how many dogs I can eat over a weekend. I can only eat a dog about once a year at a BBQ- that's my quota.

The reason for the over abundance of Hot Dogs? A near-by church is hosting a picnic for the apartment next to them and they needed an empty fridge.

Call Holly, her fridge is always empty.
The truth hurts.

go with the fro.

2007-08-23T19:21:00.001-07:00

I am the youngest of four girls. They all have pin straight hair. They all have a colon. They all can walk.
Three out of three are a direct result of genetics. But two of them are the outcome of being the one out of four.
Whenever I feel sorry for myself they glare me down and say, "at least you got the good hair."

As you can see this is not "good" air. It certainly has potential.
Especially after I got my hands on this book.
I am a curly girl waiting for the potential.

These photos of my afro were taken on the first day of the rest of my life of healthy care-free curls. I can't wait until I can say with confidence, "at least I have the good hair" and proud to be a Curly Girl.

cross over the anger bridge

2007-08-22T18:38:00.000-07:00

come over to the shore of friendship...

if you can name that quote, you win.

i do netflix. i love movies even though i forget them a couple of weeks later. the dilemma i face is finding enough "good" flicks to put on my queue. the other day i overheard my mom tell someone that she and dad had rented OPRAH'S 20th Anniversary DVD series. thanks to TiVo, i hardly miss and episode of OPRAH but the combination of my short term memory loss, my love for movies and my subscription to netflix, i added OPRAH'S 20th Anniversary DVD series to my queue.

i cried, i laughed, i was changed...I LOVE OPRAH!

one of her episodes she talked about ending the day by journaling five things that you are grateful for-
she said it will change your day.

and it has.
one of the things in my life that i am grateful for are friends. (why do i sound like a fifth grader at thanksgiving)
yesterday, amy brought these sunflowers and totally brightened up my home. (OPRAH says you should not have fake flowers. i'm not rich like OPRaH)
but she's right. the flowers add so much.

the shirt was a gift from barb (a friend from my drama team) who surprised me today in my office.

when i grabbed the shirt, the watch that was a gift from dear friend lynne, fell off my wrist as it broke. i loved this watch.

but more important than real flowers, fun t-shirts and cool watches are my beloved friends.

I am so grateful.

now back to the movie...
"SHAKE AND BAKE"!

storms.

2007-08-22T18:05:00.001-07:00

pretty soon i am going to build an ark. i don't have two delsie's but you can be sure she would come with me, even though she hates water.
life certainly goes in cycles or another expression is that we are never satisfied- we always want more, it's never enough.
the whole summer you could hear everyone moan and groan about how it is so dry and we need rain so bad.
now that it has rained for the past week complaints are bellowed that all we need is sun.
we are never content.
in all due respect (i'm watching talladega nights), this photo was taken seconds before hurricane dean made itself known while delsie did her business.
kinda scary.
even though I LOVE storms.

his name is Monty and he is so nice....

2007-08-13T19:26:00.001-07:00

In my attempt to promise my friend, Tiffany, that this complete stranger on the phone from North Carolina with a cute accent was the sweetest guy, I suddenly was aware at that given moment how blessed I am.
Let me back up a bit to make a little sense...I have had a hard weekend. The time in life when things don't feel like they could possibly get any worse and then your new stove breaks or the air in your car doesn't work and its 95 degrees and humid. The moments when you think you may have been the one that wrote "the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day".
I was feeling sorry for myself. People were letting me down left and right. No one was saying anything that was remotely helpful. I wanted to scream, "DOESN'T ANYONE KNOW I AM HURTING? I AM SO SAD AND DOESN'T ANYONE CARE???!"
This is when the blessing comes in...the words from my friend of 18 years, "you've got guts, Holly. I am so proud of you. You just hit a snag...
What may seem like such simple, meaningless words to many, were words that touched me deeply. and opened the dam.
I began to weep. I mean the ugly cry. No holding back. The snot and mascara dripping kind of cry...
This time in my life is just that: a snag. I will get through it. He promises that. He reminds me of that through friends like Tiffany.
I am the one who is proud.
proud to have the Tiffany's in my life.
and blessed...even in the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days.
It's just a snag.
and I promise, Monty is nice.

2007-08-12T16:09:00.001-07:00

I've cried three times today. Let me clear up any speculations before I continue: it is not that time of the month. (TMI, I know but a very common assumption) It may be due to the fact that I was awake for three hours in the middle of the night. During the three hours I was able to document a situation that totally seems out of my control. I also was able to stare out my huge family room window and watch the storm with thunder and lightening refresh the parched ground.
I did spend a brief time repeating the name "Jesus" over and over, longing to feel His presence.
I am parched myself. I am only hearing the sound of the crash of thunder and can actually feel the sting of lightening. Things aren't going my way and I am sad.
The truth is, I can't see the big picture. I am not able to witness the benefits of the thunder and lightening. Yet. It's an operative word; yet. A word filled with hope. A word that doesn't allow a period at the end.
Things aren't going my way and I don 't like it. I cry out of selfishness. I cry because I am not living by faith. I cry because I am uncertain of the "yet" and consumed by the now.
Odd photo in this entry. It doesn't really make sense. But it makes me laugh. (maybe cry today)
The innocence of my 4 year old nephew, doing the jig. Making me laugh...keeping life in perspective.

1 years old!

2007-08-11T15:39:00.001-07:00

Happy 1st birthday, Danika Jo.

I am so glad I can answer her age in years. I get so confused about the month thing.
If I EVER have a baby, I would be blessed to have one like Danni.
This photo represents her well- and it was taken as she was miserable with a fever of 101...
the party must go on...

SLA

2007-08-04T13:34:00.000-07:00

In 2005, Matthew McCougnahey won the SMA (sexiest man alive) and as a result received a brass belt buckle that read, SMA.

After spotting my dad out of my front window this afternoon while setting my sprinkler in his painting wardrobe, I think I have found the SLA.

Sexiest Legs Alive.

(drum roll please) This years winner of 2007 SLA goes to Rich Le Blanc.

The brass belt buckle will be in the mail soon, dad.

baby ruth.

2007-08-03T08:44:00.001-07:00

you can't see her- but i promise she's there. baby ruth came into this world on the 30th. as our
bible study visited her the day after she was born.
as i think back to this night, it makes me laugh. we were so engrossed with each other that we hardly acknowledged the miracle before our very own eyes!
yikes- how often do i do that in a single day?
welcome, baby ruth.
you are a gift from God.

beauty is in the eye of the beholder

2007-08-02T18:26:00.000-07:00

I used to be the proud owner of a water bed that I found and purchased with my own money while I was in high school. I LOVED that thing. I lugged that thing around for four moves. The baffles were broke and what finally nailed the coffin was that it started to leak - through the duct tape that sealed the rips over the six years of bliss.
However, no one told me that if you are a proud owner of a water bed, you have no sense of style. I was reminded of this simple fact every time I had to purchase water bed sheets. (you can't use normal ones)
Th same dilemma is true for those in a wheelchair. If you are in a chair, you must not have style. I won't succumb to this pressure. Call it vain but I will go as far as but a pair of pants because they will look "cute" in the chair. I also have to keep in mind whether or not shirts will lay right and pants won't be too short as my life consists of "sitting".
This holds true for the bag on the back of my chair. If you are able-bodied, I am quite sure you have never even noticed bags on the back of wheelchairs. Start to take note. Typically, they are black and boring.
Thanks to Mary Jo, I can wheel around with pride. This is the bag that she created out of a mini-skirt and dress that she purchased at Goodwill.
Yep, I am proud to be in a chair. A chair with style!