Learning to Cook After 40

Individual Monkey Breads

2012-01-28T19:40:00.000-07:00

For tonight's dinner I decide to revisit the Pepperoni Pizza Monkey Bread that I made a couple of weeks ago. This time I decided to try individual ones.

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cans of biscuits (cheap store brand)
Mozzarella cheese (either shredded or chunks from string cheese)
Pepperoni slices
Melted butter

I quartered the biscuit dough and pepperoni slices. I cut the string cheese into fairly thin slices.

TWFDS Challenge: Day 5 Kitchen Tools

2012-01-27T22:28:00.002-07:00

Today's challenge is about our favorite kitchen tools. Right now, my favorite is the crock pot. Since I am still so new to home cooked meals, I like the idea of being able to throw ingredients in the crock pot and have a dinner waiting when I get home.

I'm looking forward to learning how to use other kitchen gadgets. (I was surprised how much I enjoyed zesting the lemon with the microplane this week!)

Your turn:
What are your favorite kitchen gadgets. Which ones would you grab if you had to leave in a hurry?

Remember, all comments on the challenge posts earn an entry into the drawing.

TWFDS Project: Day 4 Go-To Meals

2012-01-27T22:20:00.000-07:00

Kathi Lipp talks about how every family has their go-to meals. You know the ones...when all else fails, you make this. I don't really have any of these--yet. I used to make spaghetti about once a week. I boiled noodles and heated up a can of Hunt's (or Wal-Mart brand) spaghetti sauce. Add a can of corn and a can of olives, and dinner is on the table in 20 minutes.

It was meals like this one (and ones with frozen chicken nuggets or corndogs) that made me decide I needed to expand my repertoire to offer my family better choices.

Your challenge:
Today, share you family's favorite recipe. What's the one (or two?) go to meal that you make almost every week? Remember, comments on this series will get you an entry to win a copy of The What's For Dinner Solution.

For more ideas, Kathihas a newsletter filled with great recipes and tips for every area of yourhome. Plus when you sign up for the newsletter, your will receive The Ultimate Guide toMan Food an e-cookbook that will rock your husband’s culinary world. Head overto her website at KathiLipp.com

TWFDS Day 3: Kitchen Tips

2012-01-27T08:44:00.001-07:00

I have been out of the habit of daily blogging, so some of my TWFDS Challenge posts are not on the right day. But, I refuse to let my blog control my life, and I won't succomb to blogger guilt! I'll post the final challenges today.

Today's theme is organizing your kitchen. I didn't do much with this because I don't have my own kitchen. My MIL has the kitchen set up the way she likes it. My husband added his touches. I think this may be a case of "too many cooks"....so I won't (yet) do anything to disrupt the status quo. As I get more familiar with kitchen tools, I'll start leaving my mark. For now, my birthday presents, are in a big Sam's Club bag on a shelf in my room. But I'm okay with that.

Some of the tools that have earned a space our kitchen counters are: coffee pot (FIL); toaster over, Kitchen Aide mixer, vacuum sealer, and can opener. On a rolling island in the kitchen, we keep the large stock pot and the large crockpot. We have lots of cabinets in the kitchen, plus a large alcove in the garage where less frequently used items are kept. (My husband is a gadget collector! Some work, some don't.)

For food storage, we have an inside cabinet with canisters (flour, sugar, etc) and a small pantry for open stuff (crackers, Ranch dressing mix) as well as small packaged items. We also have a closet sized pantry in the laundry room with shelves. Our most recent addition is a shelf in the garage where we are buying bulk extras in case of hard(er) times. We keep canned goods out there.

What are your favorite tips for keeping an organized kitchen?
Remember, share here to be entered in the drawing!

TWFDS Challenge: Day 2 LOOP meals

2012-01-24T22:55:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I mentioned a LOOP meal on my menu plan for the week. LOOP stands for Left Overs On Purpose. Basically, the idea is that you make a meal early in the week and cook more meat than you need--on purpose. But you don't just serve leftovers. You use that item in a new meal later in the week. Sandra Lee, on The Food Network, calls these Round Two Recipes.

My MIL has always been very good at LOOP meals. I first tried Beef Stroganoff because she regularly cooked an extra steak or two and sliced it and used it the next night for Beef Stroganoff. Recently, she made a pork roast, and intentionally made one twice the normal size to serve pork carnitas (crispy fried pork shredded pork that we eat like tacos).

For my LOOP meal this week, I saved some of the roast that I made (in the crockpot) for Sunday dinner with the family, and I made Beef Stroganoff on Sunday night for my small group. Since I had gravy left over as well, it was really just a matter of boiling the noodles, crisping up the the meat a little bit, and throwing it all together. (With some sour cream added at the last minute!)

I forgot to take a picture of the Beef Stroganoff until I got to small group (notice the Glad Press N Seal?)

For dinner tonight, I pulled out the frozen lasagna I made last week and put it in the crockpot. It turned out pretty well, but it would have been better if I had been home and been able to turn the heat down sooner. (It was a bit dry). Also, next time I freeze a lasagna, I need to figure out a better way to wrap it. My foil was a bit frozen onto the lasagna!

I didn't have ancontainer to match my crockpot, so I improvised. I covered a popcorn bucket with foil and layered!

Some of my layers

I also tried out the Lemon Garlic Shrimp recipe I found on Pinterest. It turned out well! My 6 year old loved it. My only complaint was it was a bit too oily (especially if I was actually trying to diet right now (which I should be!)

I used one of my my new birthday toys: a microplane!

Garlic Lemon Shrimp

~~I'll try to add some pictures from my phone later....Right now I'm exhausted!~~
I added some pictures!

Your challenge:
Share a way you have (or want to) make LeftOvers On Purpose in your meal planning.

Remember: All (relevant) comments on my TWFDS Challenge posts this week will be entered to win a copy of the book. Share a tip, recipe, or answer to my challenge. If you want to post on your own blog and share the link here, that is fine. Or you can just answer here. No hoops to jump through! :)

TWFDS Challenge: Day 1, Menu Planning

2012-01-23T09:41:00.000-07:00

Read to the end to find some freebies to print, as well as information about a giveaway!

Over the past few years, I 've been following an author named Kathi Lipp and her projects. Kathi has "project" books focusing on Marriage, Husband, and Me.

Her newest book is called The What's For Dinner Solution. (TWFDS) I've found some great ideas in Kathi's books, and I've enjoyed following her on Facebook as well as her blog. Last month, after commenting on one of her blog posts, Kathi checked out my blog and invited me to join the TWFDS Challenge. Since I am determined to learn to cook, I jumped at the chance.

Last week, I mentioned TWFDS in my post about getting organized as well the list of recipes in my recipe book. Yesterday, I told you how I used tools like Ziplist to preplan my shopping.

Today is time to talk about menu planning. Knowing what I'm going to fix makes getting dinner on the table much easier. One reason I began this journey to learn to cook "on the other side of the hill", is I was tired of coming home from and struggling to find something to feed my kids. I was tired of fast food runs, overprocessed quick foods (corndogs, Mac 'n cheese, etc), and tuna sandwiches. I wanted to be able to feed my kids (and myself) some real meals.

My menu plan will look different than yours. I don't cook every night. Since we share a home with John's parents, and I work full time, my MIL cooks most of the weeknight meals. My plan includes the nights I know I will cook, plus a couple of extras in case I need them.

Sunday Dinner (my big meal)           ----   3 Packet Pot Roast
Sunday Night (small group potluck) ----   Beef Stroganoff (LOOP)* From TWFDS
Tuesday Night (in-laws are out)       ----   Roasted Lemon Garlic Shrimp
Thursday Night                              ----   Cheesy Chicken Ranch Lasagna
Saturday Lunch                             ----    Pepperoni Roll
Sunday Dinner (planning ahead)     ----    Honey Butter Pork Loin

*Come back tomorrow to learn more about LOOP meals: Left Overs On Purpose*

Here are a couple of free printable Kathi provided to make your meal planning easier!
50 Dinners (a brainstorm list---try Google or Pintrest to find a recipe!)
Menu Plan (put it on paper!)

Giveaway information..... Kathi sent me an extra copy of her book The What's For Dinner Solution to share with one of my readers. Every relevant comment will earn an entry. (By that I mean, don't just stuff my comment box with "me! me! me!" posts! lol). Share a recipe or tip. Compliment me! (Hey! I'm a last born and my primary love language is Words of Affirmation!) Share your journey. Answer the challenge.

Today's Challenge:
Post your menu for the week. What are you going to serve your family?

Make ahead meals: first try

2012-01-22T22:34:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday (I know...it's taken me a while to post!) I went grocery shopping. But this time, instead of trying to select groceries and hope I could make something, I went prepared. I printed out a dozen or so recipes that I wanted to try, and I entered all the ingredients into my Ziplist app. Ziplist will import recipes from many blogs and other sites, and when you tell it which recipes you want, it creates a shopping list. I had not set up my recipes on the Ziplist, so I just typed the ingredients one at a time. Ziplist automatically put it in categories. (And it did a good job!)

Before I went to the store, I compared my shopping list to my cupboards and pantry. By doing this, I avoided picking up spices that were in the cupboard---and I didn't assume I had something and found out half way through the recipe that I was wrong.

At the store, I was able to quickly shop (well....as quickly as you can at Wal-Mart!). I got everything on my list (and a few others). But I knew when I got home that I had ingredients for several meals.

I fed the starving kiddos (frozen pizzas and mini corndogs). Hey, it's gonna take some time to get rid of the processed stuff! And then I was ready for my cooking adventure to begin.

I cooked up 5 pounds of ground beef. I lightly seasoned it (garlic, salt, pepper, onion powder) and drained. I vacuum sealed a couple of pounds (one pound at a time); used about a pound and a half for sloppy joes (in the freezer); and the rest for a frozen crockpot lasagna. (More on that later).

I put as many boneless skinless chicken breasts as I could fit into the crockpot with basic spices (garlic, salt, pepper, onion powder) and some water and let them cook all night. In the morning, I shredded all the chicken and vacuum sealed the chicken into to 2 cup portions. I also vacuum sealed the broth.

I mixed up spices to make my own taco seasoning. They are in a Ziploc bag with instructions on it.

I put the 3 packets for my 3 Packet Pot Roast in a Ziplock bag with instructions.

I mixed stew meat (uncooked) with ingredients for a crockpot stroganoff and put it in the freezer.

I bought ingredients for a Beef Broccoli Stir-Fry, Slow Cooker Brown Sugar Chicken, Lasagna roll ups,
Cheesy Chicken Ranch Lasagna, Roasted Lemon Garlic Shrimp, Honey Butter Pork Tenderloin, Pepperoni Roll, and Crescent Pepperoni Roll Ups.

I went to bed EXHAUSTED, but I felt good knowing how much I had accomplished!

Sunday Dinner Solo

2012-01-22T14:09:00.001-07:00

Several weeks ago my MIL asked John and I to start cooking Sunday dinner. Since I work (and John is in school) Mom usually fixes weeknight dinners. I fix something on Tuesdays when she and Dad go out.
Due to sickness, holidays, and travel, I haven't done much. The weeks we were all here and well, I just finished plating the roast someone else started.

Today...I did the entire meal by myself! And (drum roll please......) everyone loved it! Cameron said it was very tender. Compliments all around and no complaints! (Cue "Hallelujah Chorus")

Menu:
3 Packet Roast* (recipe from Pinterest)
Potatoes (cooked in crock with roast
Gravy (drippings and Brown Gravy Mix)
Rice (boil-in-bag)
Corn
Olives
Biscuits (Grands--on sale for $1 at Albertson's this week!)

*Get three packets: Italian dressing, ranch dressing, and brown gravy. Mix. Rub into roast. Place in crock pot and cover with a cup or so water. Cook on low for 6 hours.

I used Garlic and Herb dressing instead of Italian. I also added potatoes to the crock.

Here's my plate:

My recipe book

2012-01-20T00:13:00.000-07:00

I mentioned that I had started compiling a recipe book. Below is my list of what I'm starting with. I'll add more to this list as I go. If you don't find a link now, there will be one added later.

Make Ahead/Freezer Meals

Taco Meat (to be used for a variety of dishes)
Beef Broccoli Stir-Fry (Make Ahead method) from Momsbyheart.com
Easy Make Ahead Sloppy Joes
Spaghetti Casserole
Crock Pot Shredded Chicken Breasts for Freezing

Oven

Crockpot Egg Brunch Casserole
Lasagna Rollups
Roasted Italian Chicken
Cheesy Chicken Ranch Lasagna
Chicken ala King
Lemon Garlic Herb Shrimp
Honey Butter Pork Tenderloin
Easy Garlic Chicken
White Chicken Enchiladas
Mini Meatloaves
Baked Sweet and Sour Chicken
Parmigano Panko Herb Encrusted Chicken

Crock Pot

Stovetop/Fry

Teriyaki Pork Chops
Carmelized Pork Slices
Chicken Fajitas Recipe
Homemade Egg Noodles
Hawaiian Crunch Halibut with Lemon Butter Sauce
Sauteeing Chicken
Crispy Coconut Shrimp
Coconut Crusted Chicken
Tosca's Keep-It-Tight Tilapia
Bourbon Street Chicken

Grill

Quick Fixes

Mini Frittatas
Pepperoni Pizza Puffs
Pepperoni Roll
Crescent Pepperoni Roll-Ups
Pizza Biscuits

Sides

Buttermilk Refrigerator Biscuits

Desserts

Strawberry 2 Ingredient Fudge
Strawberry Cake Mix Cookies with Vanilla Cream Cheese Frosting

Getting organized

2012-01-18T01:11:00.000-07:00

I know that if I want to learn to cook, I need to have some sort of organized system. I've been reading Kathi Lipp's book The What's for Dinner? Solution. (More on this next week, as I'm participating in a blog challenge next week....and I'll be giving away copy!)

Anyway....I'm reading the book this week, and one of the things Kathi challenged me to do was to create a paper cookbook. I've been collecting websites and recipes, but every time I want to try something I have to find it and print it out. She also encouraged me to only include recipes that I might actually make. (And if they don't work --- get rid of them!)

Last night I went through my Pinterest links and bookmarks and printed off about 3 dozen recipes that I want to try. Today I went to Target today and bought a binder with a pocket to put put my own title page; a set of 8 pocket dividers, and 50 page protectors.

I divided my cooking method rather than ingredient: Make Ahead (make one to eat and one or more to freeze); Oven/Bake; Stove top/fried; Crock Pot; Grill; Quick; Sides; and Desserts.

I put about 40 recipes in sheet protectors in the appropriate sections.

Then I picked some recipes and entered the items into my ZipList app. Before I went to the store, I compared my list to the pantry and checked off the items I didn't need to buy.

My shopping trip was successful! But that is a post for another day....I'm tired.

Crockpot chicken

2012-01-15T22:28:00.002-07:00

Found this recipe on Pinterest too. Originally from Crockin Girls

Cream Cheese Chicken

Ingredients:
Butter
Salad dressing packet
Chicken breasts
Cream of chicken soup
Cream cheese

Melt butter and mix in dressing packet.
Add chicken and coat in butter mixture.
Cook on high 2 hours.
Add soup and cream cheese. Cook some more. (recipe said 15-20 minutes. I gave it another hour.)
Serve over rice, potatoes, or noodles. (I used mashed potatoes).

My small group said it was a keeper recipe!
This is what it looked like when I stated cooking.

Soda Cupcakes

2012-01-15T21:30:00.001-07:00

I think this is the easiest recipe I've found on Pinterest! (Originally from: Cookies & Cups)

Ingredients:
One can of soda--any flavor.
One box cake mix--any flavor

Directions:
Combine cake mix and soda (pop, coke, fizzy, etc) until most of the lumps are gone.

Spoon into cupcake liners and bake in a 350 oven for 18-20 minutes.

All done!

I used white cake with cola and funfetti cake with lemon lime. Also, I didn't have cans so I just measured 12 ounces.

My two little ones loved it. The teenager said it was too sweet (but he doesn't really care for cupcakes). My small group loved them! They were moist and soft.

Pizza Monkey Bread

2012-01-15T21:21:00.002-07:00

Another Pinterest recipe idea!

Ingredients:
Canned biscuits (I used 4 cans)
Pepperoni slices
Mozzarella cubes (I used string cheese cut into about 6 pieces)
Melted butter
Garlic (I used dehydrated bits. Garlic salt or powder or fresh stuff)

Directions:
Rub sides of Bundt cake pan with garlic butter.
Separate biscuits and flatten one. Place a slice of pepperoni and a chunk of cheese int the center and close into a ball.
Dip in garlic butter and place in pan.
Continue until pan is full. Drizzle extra butter on top.
Bake until golden brown.

Invert pan. Mine came out easily (almost too easily!) I dumped mine in a bowl and served with canned spaghetti sauce. My small group liked it! (So did my daughter. The boys wouldn't try it.)
Another recipe I saw called for cutting biscuit dough in half or quarter. Others used biscuit or bread dough.

My One Word: Patience

2012-01-10T01:13:00.002-07:00

I've never been a big one to make New Year's resolutions. Yes! Every new year I make plans to lose weight, read my Bible more, and be an overall nicer person.but the idea of a New Year's resolution has the bad reputation as being a temporary goal. A couple of years ago I heard about the concept of "my one word" (myoneword.org). The idea is to choose a single word to be your focus for the year. Words like: content, peacemaker, and intentional were selected.

This year, I am embracing my one word: patience. One would think I had learned all I needed to learn about patience during the many years of waiting for a baby to join our family. But, alas, I have much to learn.

Patience kind of covers many of my previous goals:

I want to lose weight and get in shape. This will require much patience because I didn't gain it in a day and I won't lose it in a day. I will need to continue being patient when changes are not happening fast enough.
I want to bring my anger under control. Of course this is all about patience. Being patient with others. Being patient with myself. Allowing all of us to be human. And when things don't go as planned--get over it!
I want to be a better wife and Mom. Again, patience is the key. Allowing my children to grow and develop without wishing them out of their current age/stage. Supporting my husband as the head of our home without rushing in to do things the "right" way.
I want to be a disciplined woman of faith. I have to learn to patiently take small steps. It is all about the relationship I'm cultivating--not a race I'm running. I need to slow down and wait for God to speak instead of impatiently moving on to the next thing on my agenda.
I want to learn to cook. This is going to take time, as well as trial and error. Not every dish I make will be well received (or even edible!) I need to hang on and not give up. And try, try again.

Every now and then I'll make a post about MOW. My One Word: Patience. Stay tuned and join me on this journey. What is your one word for 2012?

Note: I've been planning this post in my head for several days. Tonight I typed it on my iPad while exercising my patience. Sitting in the ER (for the second time in 4 days) with what we believe is a bad gal bladder (hubby's). I'm finding it quite difficult to maintain my cool after more than 6 hours and we still haven't been called back. I'm tired--very tired.

Sent from my iPad

Cooking: BBQ Chicken

2012-01-03T22:00:00.002-07:00

The holidays are over. It's time to get on with my quest to learn how to cook. I haven't had time to shop, so I found stuff in the freezer and pantry.

Menu:
BBQ chicken
Rice
Green beans

I started with frozen chicken breasts and covered them with a bottle of honey BBQ sauce. I cooked them in a 375 degree oven for 45 minutes. When I sliced the first one it was perfect. Unfortunately, the remaining 3 were still raw in places. So back in the oven for another half hour. (Which totally blew my timing!)

The rice was boil in the bag with butter added.

The final piece was green beans (fancy ones called "hairy covair" or something like that!) I cooked these in a microwave steamer with water and dehydrated garlic in the bottom. I added bacon bits and steamed.
I liked it. John said it was good. The kids, however all turned their noses up at it. :( Granted, they ate used to Mom feeding them anything that isn't processed. (And Daddy did make them apologize for their comments.

Julie Donahue
Sent from my iPhone

Update on my cooking lessons

2011-12-22T00:50:00.001-07:00

I haven't had a chance to try any new real recipes, but I've been doing a lot of candy/treat making. After the new year, your can look forward to some new posts with at least one new recipe I've tried every week.

I've found a lot of things I want to try on pinterest I hope you enjoy!

Rocky Road

2011-12-21T23:49:00.002-07:00

This was not the a recipe I found on pinterest! This is a recipe we make every year. It is very easy, and everyone loves it!

Start with peanut butter (creamy), peanuts, 2-3 bags of chips (your choice) and marshmallows.

Pour the chips into a bowl and mix (I used 1 semi sweet chocolate chips, one butterscotch chips, and one peanut butter chips). Add 1/2 cup of peanut butter. Melt in the microwave--stirring about every 30 seconds.

Add peanuts and marshmallows. Mix and dump onto wax paper. I usually throw mine in the freezer for a few minutes. Break into desired size.

Reindeer cookies

2011-12-21T23:46:00.003-07:00

I found these cookies on pintrest. (Originally from this blog: Frontier Girls).

Simple, but adorable. I needed an easy cookie fork my church's cookie exchange. I originally was not going to be able to attend, but my training was cancelled. (Trainer got snowed out!) So at the last minute I needed a recipe. I made these in my office kitchen in 15 minutes!

Ingredient: Nutter Butter cookies, mini pretzels, candy embellishments, and white frosting (for the glue). I used mini brown m & m's for the eyes and red m & m's for the nose. Everybody loved them.

Tile coasters

2011-12-21T23:43:00.002-07:00

Another craft I found on pinterest. I can't find the original pin, though. Easiest gift I've ever made! And everybody LOVED it!

Tiles (4 x 4); scrapbook paper; decoupage, and clear acrylic paint. EASY!

Julie Donahue
Sent from my iPhone

Recycled art

2011-12-21T23:42:00.001-07:00

When I first heard the idea of using toilet paper rolls for art I wondered, "What? Am I in kindergarten?" But, after seeing a friend's attempt I decided to try it.

Take toilet paper, paper towel, or wrapping paper cores and flatten. Cut into even strips (mine were about 1/2 inch). Glue together in 4s to make a star (below). I used hot glue.

Glue the flowers together at tips to make circles. Continue until you like the design. Spray paint the entire piece. Place on the wall.

Cake pops take 2

2011-12-21T23:37:00.000-07:00

Candy Trays

2011-12-21T23:33:00.001-07:00

Quick and easy candy tray found on pinterest. I found it here: Tuttobella.

Unwrap starlight mints.

Arrange in a pattern on wax paper on a cookie sheet.

Melt in a 350 over for about 6-8 minutes. Let cool completely.

Even the "flop" turned out good!

Here's another idea I found on Pinterest. Candy trays--made out of candy! Place starlight mints on wax paper and melt on a 350 oven for about 6 minutes. Let cool and peel off wax paper (or cut off the paper if it sticks!)

Reindeer Cookies

2011-12-14T15:16:00.000-07:00

Have you discovered Pinterest? If not, check it out! It's a place to mark tips, recipes, and projects you want to try. As well as see what other people are making.

Today, I needed a quick and easy recipe for a cookie exchange. I didn't have time to make them from scratch. I found this adorable reindeer cookies on Pinterest.

Ingredients:
Nutter Butter cookies
Mini pretzels
Red M & Ms
Brown mini M & Ms
White frosting (serves as glue)

Cake Pops Take One

2011-12-10T23:55:00.001-07:00

I decided to try cake pops. The kids have been wanting to try these. And after John paid $1.50 EACH for cake pops at Starbucks earlier this week, and finding some instructions in Pinterest, I decided I was ready to try it.

Step 1: Bake a cake. (Or cheat like I did and start with 3 day old cupcakes!)

Snow Ice Cream

2011-12-05T18:53:00.000-07:00

I haven't had a chance to do much cooking yet, but I did take advantage of today's snow storm to make snow ice cream. The big guys didn't care for it, but the little ones ask for me. They helped with the second batch.

Start with a bowl of snow, some vanilla (I used about a teaspoon), some sugar (about 1/4 cup) and milk (a total of about a cup).

Perspective

2011-11-18T17:41:00.000-07:00

Note: This has nothing to do with my quest to learn how to cook. Just some thoughts swirling around in my head that I need to let out.

I've been sick all week. Nothing serious. Just a bad cold. Bad enough that over the past 9 days, I've missed 2 full days of work, church all day Sunday, and several partial days of work. I've been extremely tired, congested, and coughing (you know that kind that sounds like you are going to cough up a lung?!?). I still feel pretty yucky. (In fact today was the other full day of work I missed.)

But, I know that this is temporary. "This too shall pass". As bad as I feel, I know my life will go on and things will return to normal soon. (What ever "normal" is!?!) But, I have three friends whose families will have to learn a new normal. Each of these dear, beautiful, Godly women are Mothers to 3 or 4 kids (each, coincidently, have a son the age of my oldest). They are all my age (give or take 5 years).

Debi has 4 boys. The oldest is married. The youngest is 14. She was a photographer. Almost 2 months ago, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Over the past two months, she has had brain surgery followed by chemo and radiation. She is holding up well. She has a break while they determine if the treatment helped or what steps they will try next. Her husband and boys are clinging to hope, but their life will never be the same.

Jenni has 3 kids. Like me, she has boy bookends with a girl in the middle. Like me, she also has been married most of her life and struggled with infertility and loss. Together, we created a lifeline known as Hannah's Prayer to encourage and support other women facing infertility and loss. Unlike Debi, Jenni has known illness for most of her adult life. She fought hard against an unknown immune disorder and has finally been getting some answers. Jenni has never left her illness define her. She authored one book (Hannah's Heart) and had several more in process. She never stopped loving and supporting women who were in pain. Until last month when she had a seizure, to which she was non-responsive for about 6 hours, and a stroke. Now Jenni is in a rehabilitation hospital where she is trying to learn how to do all the things she used to know how to do. Her husband and family are clinging to hope, but their lives will never the same.

Christi has 4 boys and a girl. The youngest two are the ages of my oldest two. An awesome therapist, mentor, and friend, Christi was diagnosed with breast cancer about 5 or 6 years ago. At one point it looked like she had it beat. In January, we learned it had been back for a while. Christi held on to the hope that she would beat it. We thought we were going to lose her in January. But she held on. Today, Christi lost her battle with cancer. I know that she is in the presence of her God and King, but we miss her her. Her husband and children clung to hope, but their lives will never be the same.

Repurposed blog

2011-11-15T22:37:00.000-07:00

I decided to go ahead and repurpose my Mom2Ways blog and use it for my new Learning to Cook after 40 blog. I didn't change the URL (web address), so all old links will still work.

I'll start with a list of some of the blogs and websites I've found to start my journey. Let me know if you know any great recipes I should start with.

Learning How to Cook
Enjoy How to Cook
Cooking Dude
The Reluctant Gourmet
Simply Recipes
SOS Cuisine
Easy Recipes for Beginners
How to Cook for Beginners
Betty Crocker Tips and How-Tos
Basic Cooking

Recipes
All Recipes Quick and Easy Recipes
Cheap Cooking Easy Recipes

My birthday present

2011-11-15T20:53:00.003-07:00

For my birthday this year, I asked for a good picture cookbook and a box of utensils and gadgets to help me learn to cook. John went above and beyond what I expected. (I was thinking Dollar Tree for a many of the items---not Bed, Bath and Beyond!) We still need to find a tub to put it all in, but I wanted to have my own tools that I can find whenever I need them.

Here is the entire collection (so far!)

Measuring cups and spoons (the small set includes "pinch" and "dash"!

Peeler, pastry brush, zester, pancake turner, microplane, and melon baller.

Assortment of bamboo spoons and stirrers.

Rubber spatulas, wire whisk, and pastry bags.

Pastry fork, chop and scoops.

Flour sifter, meat thermometer, and candy thermometer.

Rolling pin, parchment paper, 4 cutting sheets.

The cookbook. (Can't figure out how to turn it over!)

Inside the cookbook. This is a reprint of the cookbook John learned to cook with!

Creating a new blog....or maybe repurposing this one?

2011-11-15T20:52:00.000-07:00

Earlier tonight I started a new blog: Learning to Cook After 40 to chronicle my journey as I learn to cook on the other side of the hill. But I may just hi-jack this blog and repurpose it. For now, I'll post on both blogs.

Confession: I am 42 years old and I don't know how to cook. I wouldn't stave if I had to feed myself, but I would eat a lot of pasta, frozen meals, and other convenience foods. When my kids are hungry, they tend to get tuna sandwiches, Top Ramen, or hotdogs. I recently decided that I WANT to learn to cook.

How did I get over the hill without learning to cook? I am the youngest of 7 kids. My mom graduated from nursing school the same year I graduated from kindergarten. She spent a few of my early elementary years working PMs. (3pm to 11 pm). During these days, my big sister Carmen did much of the cooking. Even when Mom switched to days (7am t0 3pm), she didn't have the time to teach me to cook. When she got home, it was a rush to get dinner on the table.

I married young (17) and fully expected to learn how to cook (as many new brides are forced to do). But, I married a man who was the oldest of 3 and LOVED to cook. So it was never necessary for me to learn. For the past 8 years, I've shared a home with my in-laws, and my mother-in-law is an excellent cook. Again it, was not necessary for me to learn to cook. As a full time working mom, learning to cook has not been a priority--until now.

Don't get me wrong... I can follow a recipe. And I have had compliments on my baked goods. But I want to walk into the kitchen and look in the fridge and pantry and come with with "something out of nothing".

So follow me as my journey begins.....

Guest Blogger on Held!

2011-05-09T08:04:00.003-06:00

For many years, I was involved with an internet-based infertility support group called Hannah's Prayer. I was thrilled be invited to be one of the first guest writers on their new blog: Held. Please check it out!

You are Beautiful!

2010-08-20T15:38:00.007-06:00

This morning I was listening to the KLOVE radio morning show with Eric and Lisa. They were talking about an interview they had previously done with SuperChick where they talked aboutOperation Beautiful who is "transforming the way you see yourself one post it note at a time".

The mission is simple:

Leave postive notes in public places reminding women that they are beautiful.

I have been busy. While driving around for work today, I left notes in several convenience store bathrooms, a grocery store, an office complex, and my own office.

While I was taking pictures, I had an aha moment. I was trying to figure out how to take a picture of a mirror without getting myself in it. But then I stopped and thought about it. If I was afraid to be in the picture because I am too fat (or too ugly or too ______), then it was hypocritical to be posting the note. So I gladly posed with my notes! :)

Have you told anyone she is beautiful today?

Back from vacation

2010-08-06T11:26:00.001-06:00

We spent 4 nights in Albuquerque and packed in a lot of fun (and some sleeping in!).

Sunday

We arrived Sunday afternoon. After checking into the Ramada on Menaul (near the junction of I-40 and I-25) we decided to eat at the Olive Garden. (I sure hope we get one in Roswell soon!) Here, Crunchy flirted with the waiter (she gave him a note on her menu that said, "UR Cute"). Oh boy!

After dinner, we went to the 2nd run theater (again, I wish we had one of these in Roswell!) Albuquerque has two (both Cinemark theaters!) Full price is $2. Matinee is $1.50, and on Mondays the one on Coors is only 75 cents! We saw Marmaduke (which we had not seen yet).

Monday

Monday morning was Crunchy's doctor appointment at UNM Hospital. The pediatric neurologist officially released her from neurology. Her seizures are considered "under control by medicine". If we remain seizure free for 2 years, there will be another EEG to see if the seizures have indeed stopped. At that time, we will look at stopping meds. If she has a seizure (even one) the 2 year clock starts over. We need to work on switching from liquid to pills.

A quick trip to the torture chamber (blood draw lab) ended our visit. Crunchy asked me to "get me out of this EVIL place" and, once the blood started going into the vial, she said, (I kid you not!) "The shock! The horror! The horror!" (No, I don't have a drama queen!) She refused a sticked because, "I don't want anything to remember this by!"

Next stop was a trip to the National Nuclear Science Museum. The big boys really enjoyed it. The two little ones enjoyed the hands on exhibits and the planes. Crunchy emerged as Tour Guide Barbie.

Welcome to the kids area of the museum. Here are some games you can try. Put your hand here, and then push the button.....

After a quick trip to the mall and Build a Bear (I am glad we don't have one of these in Roswell!), we went to Chick-Fil-A for dinner. (I want one of these in Roswell!) The kids enjoyed the play area. We enjoyed the chicken and they music. (They play Christian music!)

We brought swim suits, but no floating toys. So we hung out in the hot tub for a while before bed.

Tuesday

We got to a slow start this morning. We headed to the Aquarium and Botanical Gardens. The aquarium wasn't bad. It wasn't Monterrey Bay Aquarium, but there were some neat fish and such. The HUGE shark tank was pretty impressive too!

The gardens had a kids garden that was pretty cool. It was guarded by a dragon and the further you walked, the smaller you felt. Huge bugs, vegetation, and trees loomed. Crunchy thought she was in fairy land. She was thrilled to find not one, but two (twins) girls who were also fairies. Munchie found some boys to play in the sand castle with him. Chewie alternated between playing with the kids and being too big to play.

The highlight of our day was a trip to Golden Pride to meet my Uncle Roger for dinner. Roger is my Daddy's big brother. He is 75 and still works when they call him! (Heavy equipment operator.) Even though we have lived in New Mexico for almost 7 years, we have not been able to meet up with him. We tried several times when we first got here, but he was working or visiting other areas. This time we connected. It was great to see him. (And I miss my Daddy even more!)

After a quick trip to Walmart for floaties (and the Krispy Kreme store) we headed to the pool. We didn't get to use the hot tub because it was occupied the entire time.

Wednesday

This was our slowest start of the day. (Oh the joys of lazy days!) We went to the Museum of Art and History (which, by the way, if FREE on the first Wednesday of the month!) I don't understand the point of all the neat pictures, artwork, and artifacts, if we can't take pictures!

We went back to the cheap movie and saw "How to Train Your Dragon" (which we had seen before). Then headed back to the pool.

Thursday

Final morning.....As promised, we headed over to Monkey Mania Adventures. For 2 hours of open play, the kids got to run around and choose a bunch of activities: Bounce room, battle ball arena, craft area, toddler room, dress up room, hollywood runway room, and movie room.

Lunch, gas, and on the road.

We got home about 6:30. Then the laundry began......

Emily Rose @ Home: Great opportunity for Moms & Daughters!

2010-07-22T20:39:00.003-06:00

I recently came across a neat new business opportunity. I haven't yet decided if I am going to try it, but it does look like a fun way for Crunchy and I to have a great time together while supplementing our family income.

Emily Rose @ Home provides a large variety of unique, high-quality and affordable clothing and furniture for the 18 inch soft body doll - like the American Girl doll. They have beautiful dresses (like the one below); pajamas; pant sets; and more. Plus an adorable line of furniture. Read on, and if you decide you want to try it, see the discount code at the end of this post.

Recently, Emily Rose launched an @Home party network. Emily Rose @Home offers a great way to earn money and have fun. There are some great life benefits with Emily Rose @Home.

You decide how many hours you work, which hours you work, where you work!
Maybe you want to only hold one party per month so that you have enough for a family vacation at the end of the year - done! Maybe you want to only hold lunch time parties so that you can free up your evenings for time with your family - done! Maybe you want to hold parties only at night so that you can keep your younger children out of daycare but still earn - done! Maybe you want to partner with another member and split the workload - done! Maybe you want to work extra hard one month and hold 3 parties a week so you can pay off a debt - done!
Your Earnings are under your control!
Do you want to earn enough for a family vacation to Disneyworld? Or maybe you need some regular extra income to help pay the bills? Perhaps you want a full-time income while only working at part-time job. Emily Rose @Home makes any of these goals possible and it puts your earning potential in your hands and under your control.
Learn how to run your own business!
Emily Rose @Home is so low risk and such a low entry cost - it is the perfect opportunity for those who want to "dip their foot in" but not take the giant leap to start a business independently. Your experience running an Emily Rose @Home business will give you all of the skills and experience you need for your business future. We not only provide you with the means (product, infrastructure, support) to start your own business, but as a member of our consultant family you get exclusive access to business training materials, and the help and support our dynamic community of @Home consultants through our forum and community network. Learning how to run a business has never been so easy or such fun!
Teach your daughter about business and finance!
Let's face it - the state of the economy doesn't say much for the overall level of financial education in the world. Don't let your favorite American girl grow up without a solid understanding of finance and business. Emily Rose @Home gives you the opportunity to teach important lessons while also bonding with one of your favorite people and reaping some fabulous rewards together.
Network with strong and powerful women!
There is so much to learn from other @Home consultants - and you have so much to share. Never underestimate the power of networking in business, from ideas, to lead sharing, to potential Partnerships. As a member of the @Home consultant family you have a tremendous advantage over most entrepreneurs. Not only do you have a network of smart, entrepreneurial women to call upon - you are also all starting the same business. It doesn't get any better.
Meet new friends!
Many of our Founder's Members have discovered great friendships among the consultant community, some even traveling distances to meet in person.
Don't forget your hostesses and your future customers! In today's world of busy schedules, kid's activities, and online social networking, it is sometimes very difficult to get out and meet people. By joining Emily Rose @Home your social network suddenly got very, very wide. Who knows - your next hostess could be your "best friend you never knew was out there". Either way, you are sure to meet some great new people and expand your social horizons.

Emily Rose @Home offers great financial benefits as well.

High Paying Commission structure and fabulous earning potential
Low Start-Up Costs
You don't need to develop a product, buy a computer, hire any employees, etc... the costs involved in starting an Emily Rose @Home business are very low.
No inventory to hold
You only buy the products that your customer orders you do not have to spend a lot of money up front and buy inventory (product that you are going to sell). You don't have to have a lot of room to store it and you don't have to worry about expensive excess inventory.
Low Expenses
Emily Rose @Home takes care of most of the Expenses (warehousing, paying employees to pick, pack and ship products, gift boxes and packaging, etc.) you can keep more of your Revenue which means more Profit for you.
No Accounts Receivables
You collect your payment before you purchase inventory.

Intrigued? Visit Emily Rose @ Home. Use coupon code: HHSR82XK and receive 10% off your starter kit. And let me know what you think!

Discloser: I have received no compensation for posting this, but I will get a bonus for each person who signs up using my coupon code.

Rayovac Powers Your Summer!

2010-06-22T08:51:00.001-06:00

Rayovac Powers Your Summer Promotion Twitter Event and Blogger Promotion

Enter for a Chance to Win Fun Summer Prizes and $50 Gift Cards

Rayovac Powers Your Summer Promotion

Moms and kids just want to have fun and Rayovac has the power to make it happen!

From June 21st through July 20th, we are empowering families to have fun through the Rayovac Powers Your Summer Promotion.

First, show us you "like" the brand and products on Facebook at www.facebook.com/RayovacFans and together with expert moms at 5MinutesForMom, we will offer up great daily summertime family tips and a chance to win great prizes.

Then access and complete the entry form on Rayovc's website at www.rayovac.com/PowersYourSummer. Simply tell us how you'll power your fun this summer each day for a chance to win prizes ranging from Cameras and Bikes to Camping Supplies and a Summer Supply of Rayovac Batteries! No trick questions here! There is no correct answer to how you and your family add the Power of Fun to your summer! Must be a US resident and 18 or older at the time of entry to enter this Promotion, the Twitter Event or the Blogger Promotion.

Rayovac Powers Your Summer Twitter Event

Join Rayovac and 5MinutesForMom for a Twitter Event to support the exciting Rayovac Powers Your Summer Promotion. The Twitter Event will feature more than 20 fun giveaways from Rayovac ranging from a summer supply of Rayovac Batteries to $50 Target Gift Cards.

Rayovac Powers Your Vacation Summer Promotion Twitter Event
Date: Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Time: 7:00 p.m. until 9:00 p.m. CST
Location: #rayovac
Follow: @Rayovac_Battery, @5minutesformom, @CirclePRMary

Disclosure: "The first 99 bloggers to promote the Rayovac Powers Your Summer Twitter Event won a prize package from Rayovac."

The New Busy is not the old busy. Search, chat and e-mail from your inbox. Get started.

A Mom's Summer Wish List.....

2010-06-10T19:54:00.004-06:00

I know it technically isn't summer for 11 more days, But since we have had 4 triple digit days (including one at 110 degrees!) and 3 days falling just below at 99 in the first 10 days of June, I think it is fair post my Mom's Summer Wish List. Dream with me....

This summer, my wish list includes:

* Sleeping in until at least 9 am once a week.

* Healthy meals that are prepared for me.

* Kids who try to beat each---to helping Mom with chores!

* A specialty cleaning service to clean, mop, vacuum, and dust.

* Ice cream that tastes like a million bucks, but is free of calories and fat.

* A fun, flirty haircut that flatters my face.

* Trips to the zoo with the kids

* Girls night out with friends from church

* Lots of hugs, kisses, and cuddles from my kids.

So, what is on your summer wish list?

(Note: This was a compensated post, but the opinions are my own.)

Grill Daddy

2010-05-20T17:42:00.000-06:00

Product Name: Grill Daddy
Price: $19.95, plus S&H.
Put out by: Grill Daddy

The Grill Daddy (www.grilldaddy.net) is a steam powered grill-cleaning tool that sanitizes grills and eliminates the burnt on food, grease and dirt. Cleaning grills can be a difficult and time-consuming task but the alternative is far worse. Unwashed racks can house bacteria that could contaminate food and leave an unsanitary and bad taste.
Utilizing specially designed stainless-steel brushes, the Grill Daddy releases water as users brush, hitting the grill and turning to steam while rinsing away unsanitary debris.
Other features:
· Steam-powered
· No rancid greasy residue builds up on the brush (liquefies and melts it away)
· Safe for porcelain, steel and iron grills (hot or cold)
· Ergonomic handle keeps hands away from heat and provides maximum leverage

Flirting with Faith by Joan Ball

2010-05-17T07:10:00.000-06:00

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Joan Ball

and the book:

Flirting with Faith: My Spiritual Journey from Atheism to a Faith-Filled Life

Howard Books; Original edition (May 11, 2010)

***Special thanks to Blythe Daniel of The Blythe Daniel Agency, Inc. for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Joan Ball is a professor in the Peter J. Tobin College of Business at St. Johns University in New York, and a writer at Beliefnet.com. She and her husband, Martin, have three children and they live in suburban New York.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 213 pages
Publisher: Howard Books; Original edition (May 11, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1439149879
ISBN-13: 978-1439149874
Product Dimensions: 8.5 x 6.5 x 0.6 inches

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Struck

Thirty-seven is way too young to be having a heart attack, I thought, resting my hand on my chest and struggling to catch my breath. I’m sure it’s nothing.

But somewhere deep inside I knew I was lying to myself. Although I was a firm believer in mind over matter, my attempts to will away the waves of nausea and shortness of breath were failing miserably.

As my stoic resolve began to dissolve into genuine concern, I think there might actually be something wrong with me.

I looked at my watch, then over my shoulder into the serious-looking faces of forty or fifty strangers scattered in little clumps throughout the massive, mostly empty main sanctuary of a church we’d been attending for about a month. These clean-cut, well-manicured families in their suits and dresses and sensible shoes were way too straitlaced for my taste. In fact, they perfectly embodied the stereotype of church folks I’d carried along on my spiritual (and sometimes not so spiritual) journey from staunch atheism to recovery-based, power-greater-than-myself pseudo-agnosticism. They appeared boring and predictable; I saw nothing of myself in these people, and I was confident that their conception of Jesus as God was a farce.

Despite my growing concern over the pressure in my chest, I sat motionless, proud enough to choose the anonymity of the pew over creating a scene with a quick exit.

Of course, this begs the question: What was I doing there in the first place?

Faith aside, church and a nice brunch made for a surprisingly relaxing Sunday-morning routine that offset nicely the insane pace we managed to maintain Monday through Saturday. And since the kids liked meeting their friends there, it seemed like a benign sacrifice of an hour in exchange for some quality family-bonding time.

Even so, I didn’t really trust these church people. There was something about their unwavering propriety that I was sure amounted to little more than a thin disguise for a subtle yet palpable wariness of “outsiders.” Maybe it was the body language or the tone of their voices, but I always came away with the distinct sense that our presence was more tolerated than welcomed. Sure, they did all the right things. The smiles, hellos, and “how-was-your-week’s” were delivered perfectly, as if on cue. But, in the white space between the pleasantries, there was this underlying something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

It was kind of like a friend hosting a party who meets you at the door with a pleasant “Come on in. Make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink?” while shooting daggers at the husband she was fighting with as you pulled up the driveway. The words and actions say welcome, but you can’t help but feel otherwise.

Seven years in addiction recovery had conditioned me to believe that the newcomer—on the wagon or still drinking—is always the most important person in the room. This made the perceived lack of warmth distasteful enough that I thought it best to maintain a polite distance, just to be safe. That said, at this point in my life the polite distance suited me just fine. In fact, the protective cordiality on both sides allowed my husband, Martin, our three kids, and me finally, after nearly two years of halfhearted church shopping, to consider this a place where we might hang our spiritual hats.

I probably wouldn’t have been at church at all if I’d not married Martin six years earlier. When we met, in 1992, I was a single mother and a rabid atheist. More than that, my most potent venom was reserved for theists of the Christian persuasion. I’ve since been told that this brand of anti-theism is frequently born in bad experiences with the church or parochial school, but I was raised without any of that religious baggage.

Although my parents had grown up Roman Catholic, they abandoned the practice before I started grade school. So, coming from what could best be called a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps secular environment, I’d pieced together my own personal philosophy on religion and faith. In my view, people who embraced God and religion were emotionally, physically, or intellectually weak and unable to carry themselves through life on their own. This elaborate ruse called faith provided them with an external construct to prop them up. A fantasy scaffolding that I was smart enough and strong enough to avoid.

Although I vehemently disparaged believers, certain people or groups were paradoxically excluded from my disdain. My devout Catholic grandmother and others in my mother’s family fell into this category, as did anyone who embraced a spiritual path that I perceived to be cooler than Christianity—which included almost every religion or faith tradition on earth that wasn’t Christianity. I have to admit that their pardon was based on random criteria that made neither logical nor theological sense. Naturally, Martin—at the time a Bible-believing, Pentecostal-church-attending Christian—was exempt from my ire. But that was mainly because he was sexy, played guitar, and rarely talked about God unless someone else brought it up.

Note
“In my view, people who embraced God and religion were emotionally, physically, or intellectually weak and unable to carry themselves through life on their own.”

I was like one of those aggressively discriminatory people who hate blacks or whites or gays, yet has one of those “friends who is different” from the stereotype. Somehow, the people I loved and respected were excused from my considerable contempt for Christians, yet I never disbanded my theory that faith was an illusion. It was this kind of convoluted mental calculus that allowed me to agree to a church wedding to Martin in 1996, and that fueled my sporadic church attendance—devoid of Christian faith—for the years that followed.

Surprisingly, in those months before and after we were married, I actually came to like going to church. There was something about the rhythm of doing the same thing once a week, every week, that was . . . I don’t know . . . comforting. Like playing house as a child.

And I got pretty good at playing church.

We went on Sundays and took the kids to a family program on Wednesdays. I even stepped in as a substitute Sunday-school teacher once or twice, which was really weird, since I couldn’t have answered even the simplest questions about the faith with any depth or accuracy if I’d been asked. Thankfully my students were four- and five-year-olds, and I’d been given a pretty thorough syllabus, so no one ever called my bluff. I probably could have continued attending church like that forever—a polite, clandestine agnostic—and no one would have been the wiser. But then we decided to move.

When we settled into our house in Warwick, a rural suburb of New York City, church became an inconvenience. The longer drive from our new house to church got real old, real quick and it didn’t take long for us to realize that losing twenty minutes of sleep to make it to church on time required a greater sacrifice than we were willing to make. After a couple months of setting the clock, overusing the snooze button, and vowing to “try again next week,” we figured we’d try to find a new church in Warwick. When our admittedly halfhearted search for a new place failed, we gave church a little rest. Surely Martin’s Jesus would understand that we were busy people with busy lives. Sunday was the only day that we were guaranteed a chance to sleep in. This omnipotent God had to know we worked hard to balance our careers, the kids’ activities, and the house all week and that we wanted—no, we deserved—a little extra sleep on Sunday mornings.

What we thought would be a short hiatus from church lasted about two years, until our daughter, Kesley, who was thirteen at the time, asked a plaintive question.

“Mom? Do you think we’ll ever go to church again?”

I had never gone to church as a kid, but I do remember what I was up to when I was thirteen. If I had a kid who was actually asking to go to church, I figured I should probably listen.

“Sure, Kels,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “We’ll go back soon.”

So, as quickly as we’d abandoned the Sunday-morning church routine, we reinstated it.

The routine was simple and predictable. We’d start out calm and quiet. Andrew and Ian, who were fourteen and five at the time, were the early risers. They’d wake up and make their way down to the basement family room, where they’d stretch out on facing couches and watch TV or play video games. Kelsey, who was a little slower and a lot grumpier in the morning, usually slept in until the last possible minute. Martin and I fell somewhere in the middle. We’d set the clock for far earlier than either of us intended to wake up and hit the snooze (love that snooze) before lounging in bed, talking or reading (or whatever . . .), until we’d lingered just long enough to get to church almost on time.

Now, if you ask me, being almost on time for anything is far worse than being completely late. Completely late makes it easier to resort to a simple, more relaxing Plan B, like “Let’s just sleep in” or “How about breakfast instead?” Being almost on time, on the other hand, held out a faint but real hope that, despite evidence to the contrary, Plan A may still be achievable. Almost on time got our competitive juices flowing and opened the door to chaos. It told us that, if we hustled, we might just make up the time—even if it meant tormenting ourselves and our children and ruining an otherwise peaceful morning. Martin and I took the bait every time.

“Kelsey, can you please finish getting ready and help your brother find his shoes?” I’d shout up from the bottom of the two-story foyer.

“You can’t wear that shirt, it’s dirty. Go change.” Martin would say as he abruptly intercepted Andrew in the kitchen.

Then I’d snap at our youngest as he followed me from room to room, holding a hundred trading cards and a shoe. “No, Ian, you cannot bring your Pokémon cards. Go ask Kelsey to help you find your other shoe.”

And finally, as if playing a role in a recurring nightmare, Martin would call from the back deck, “If you guys are not in the car in two minutes . . .”

Getting two adults, two teenagers, and a five-year-old showered, dressed, and out the door of a three-story house with three bathrooms shouldn’t be that difficult. And yet somehow it always was. So much for the nice, relaxing family morning.

Eventually, we’d pile into our SUV and back down the cobblestone driveway, catching a glimpse of our picture-postcard, red brick center-hall colonial as we went.

That Sunday morning in 2003 was no different.

“Martin, can I have my sunglasses?” I asked, turning down the cul-de-sac straight into the surprisingly strong spring sunshine.

“Where are they?” he said as he leaned down to rifle through my bigger-than-necessary bag.

“They should be in the inside pocket,” I said, hitting the gas, checking my makeup in the rearview mirror, and handing him my glasses in one unconscious and mindlessly dangerous motion.

He took my black-framed, cat-eye glasses and handed me a pair of dark Jackie-Os that set off my shoulder-length blond hair and monochromatic black outfit, completing the New York urban-chic style that I was trying hard to make look easy.

I looked down at the digital display—9:54 A.M. With six minutes to drive five minutes across town, we were still in the game. I made a quick right out of the cul-de-sac, rolled through a couple of stop signs, and turned into the parking lot as the church bells sounded the last deep doooong. Breathing a sigh of relief, we hit our seats just in time for the organist to play the intro to the first hymn.

Yes, I thought, there’s nothing like landing on the right side of almost on time.

As the notes boomed out of the enormous antique pipe organ and the robe-clad choir fought a losing battle to find the right key, I found myself looking up at the arched stained-glass windows that flanked the massive stone church. Someone had once told me that the panels were museum quality, designed and constructed by Tiffany & Co. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. They were amazing. Intricate patterns of metal and glass joined to form complex jewel-toned images of Jesus and his crew that exploded when backlit by the sun. I followed the colored beams as they cascaded through well-defined images of faces, bodies, and crosses into an impromptu dance of color that shifted on the floor as if projected by a giant, priceless kaleidoscope.

Note
“With six minutes to drive five minutes across town, we were still in the game.”

I could always appreciate the majestic beauty of a church or cathedral. It was all that religion that happened inside that turned me off. I wonder how much you could get for those things at Sotheby’s, I thought as I turned my attention forward, where a boyish-looking man was calling the congregation to order. He wore a long white robe with a purple sash, the standard uniform for what the church people referred to as the traditional service.

This pastor, whom I will call Pastor Thomas, was about the same age as Martin and me—somewhere in his mid- to late thirties. Despite the fact that he was a little geeky, he seemed nice enough from a distance. We’d only spoken to him once or twice: brief, nice-to-see-you-back-again, so-nice-to-be-back conversations as we left the church. We might have avoided these rather awkward exchanges altogether were it not his custom to stand at the back door of the church sanctuary at the end of the service. It was like the receiving line at a wedding: people making their way down aisles at the left, right, and center of the enormous room, converging at the back into a human traffic jam.

“Before we get started,” Pastor Thomas announced with a broad smile on his face, “Mary Rooney and her son Jason [not their real names] are going to be accepted as new members of our congregation.” Apparently, anyone can go to church, but becoming a member took it to the next level. I just wasn’t sure what that next level looked like.

I almost applauded when the two of them stood up, but caught myself, forgetting that the people here never clapped. Even when singers did a fantastic duet or solo . . . nothing. No one else seemed to mind, but I found that pregnant pause while the musicians cleared their music and returned to their seats in silence to be distractingly awkward. One day I made the mistake of using the no-clapping thing as fodder for pre-service small talk with one of the women who seemed to be involved in a number of church activities.

Note
“I almost applauded when the two of them stood up, but caught myself, forgetting that the people here never clapped.”

“Why is it,” I asked, “that no one ever claps for the singers or musicians?”

She made no attempt to hide her disdain for my question as she said curtly, “This is a church, not a concert.”

As Mary and her elementary-school-age son came to their feet, I wondered whether they were alone because of a divorce, if her husband had died, or if she had just chosen to have a child on her own. Whatever the circumstances, they reminded me of how difficult it had been to be a single mother and how lucky Andrew, Kelsey, and I were to have Martin in our lives. Once Ian was born, our new family was complete.

Pastor Thomas made his way across the stage (I think there’s a more formal name for it, but it looked like a stage to me) and opened a huge book that sat on a quarter-sawn oak pedestal. Then, without speaking, he raised his hands and swept them upward in a small circle like a conductor, and we all came to our feet. After a short prayer, and maybe another hymn, he began to ask Mary and Jason a series of questions.

“Do you accept the gospel of God’s grace in Jesus Christ revealed in the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as the only way to eternal life?”

“I do,” they answered.

“Do you acknowledge that you are a sinner, sinful by nature, but that by the grace of God alone your sins have been forgiven and your old nature put to death, so that you may be brought to newness of life and set apart as a member of the Body of Christ?”

“I do.”

This Q and A went on for a few more minutes, covering promises to pray, seek God’s guidance, grow in faith, attend church, and accept and obey the rules and guidance of the church elders. They responded with dutiful “I dos” and “I wills” at the end of each question.

Next, the members of the congregation were asked if they would welcome the woman and her son into the “community of faith” and if they would “pledge to them your love, your prayers, and your encouragement as they live the Christian life with us.” The responses of the few dozen congregants in the large room sounded a little empty, as they delivered the best “We dos” and “We wills” they could muster. Not wanting to appear rude, I lip-synched the words along with the crowd.

Oh well, I thought, I guess I could never become a member of this church.

My understanding of the church-membership thing was still a little sketchy. Best I could tell, signing up with a certain church presupposed a heightened level of commitment, or maybe it just indicated that you intend to stick around. While I was okay with getting involved in some church activities or playing in the band, saying “I do” to anything involving Jesus was a commitment I was not willing, able, or interested in making.

Note
“Saying ‘I do’ to anything involving Jesus was a commitment I was not willing, able, or interested in making.”

Sure, given the havoc I had wrought on myself and on others in my twenties, I could almost accept the notion that I might be sinful by nature. I’d even come to a place in my thirties, through the literature and guidance of a 12-step program, where I could pray to a “power greater than myself” with some assurance that it was better to pray than not to pray. But Jesus? The Old and New Testaments? Eternal life? Martin believed in all of that stuff, but not me. Not today. Not tomorrow. No way.

I was hoping that the church-membership thing wouldn’t extend the service longer than the usual one hour. I was pretty hungry and looking forward to endulging in some pancakes and syrup, even though yogurt and fruit would have been the more responsible option. As the announcements finished, Pastor Thomas began his sermon. The message was from the last book of the Bible, called Revelation.

The end of the world as we know it, oh my.

I knew very little about the Bible beyond my absolute confidence that, despite the heartfelt claims of the radio Christians, it was not the divinely inspired Word of God. I mean, how could it be? All of those writers with their hands all over it across the centuries and not one typo? I couldn’t understand who in their right mind would ever believe that all of those angry monks and sadistic inquisitors never changed a little bit of this or that to tip the scales in their favor. How gullible could people be?

While it might have been a lovely notion that some benevolent creator of the universe whispered down two thousand pages of frequently contradictory text because he loves people, I believed the whole Christianity thing had started as an elaborate ruse, perpetrated by powerful and wealthy people to control the uneducated masses. Then, like some centuries-old version of the kids’ game Telephone, the rules and the false hope they promised became a sad and pathetic crutch for the weak and a powerful hammer for the pious.

Note
“I believed the whole Christianity thing had started as an elaborate ruse, perpetrated by powerful and wealthy people to control the uneducated masses.”

Pastor Thomas started talking about Jesus’ returning to earth—for what would be the end of the world—at a time that no one could predict. Judgment day. Armageddon. You don’t need to be a Christian to be familiar with these terms and the notions they conjure. I was half-listening and wondering what any of this could ever have to do with me when he began to read:

Then I saw Heaven open wide—and oh! A white horse and its Rider. The Rider named Faithful and True, judges and makes war in pure righteousness. His eyes are a blaze of fire, on his head many crowns. He has a Name inscribed that’s known only to himself. He is dressed in a robe soaked with blood, and he is addressed as “Word of God.” The armies of Heaven, mounted on white horses and dressed in dazzling white linen, follow him. A sharp sword comes out of his mouth so he can subdue the nations, then rule them with a rod of iron. He treads the winepress of the raging wrath of God, the Sovereign-Strong. On his robe and thigh is written, king of kings, lord of lords.

Apparently, unlike the love-everybody-Gandhi Jesus, the come-back-at-the-end-of-the-world Jesus is a wild warrior who’ll show up ready to rumble.

A sword in his mouth? I thought. These people are nuts.

That’s when my chest started to hurt.

At first it was just a small hollowness right below my sternum, like the sensation you get from swallowing too much pool water. Then came a wave of nausea. And then another. Finally, I started to have trouble catching my breath. Did I eat something bad? I wondered to myself. I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, so maybe last night. Maybe indigestion? My watch read 10:45.

Just fifteen more minutes, I thought as I began to break into a cold sweat.

I contemplated leaving, but I was on the center side of a twelve-foot-long pew, which left me with two equally untenable choices: either I walk up the wide center aisle between row after row of intricately carved wooden pews while clutching my chest and gasping for breath, or I climb over Martin, the kids, and another family to get to the side aisle to do the same. I looked left and then right, considering my options, and decided that both involved more drama than I was willing to risk. And I was just image conscious enough to risk death by heart attack to avoid it. So I drew another deep breath and tried to focus on keeping myself from throwing up.

Note
“I was just image conscious enough to risk death by heart attack to avoid it. So I drew another deep breath and tried to focus on keeping myself from throwing up.”

Martin, who was sitting to my right, was completely unaware of what I was going through. The heaviness of his eyelids, the rhythmic bobbing of his head, and his occasional half snore revealed that he was fighting a battle of his own. He could usually count on me for a gentle but firm elbow to the ribs when he was about to descend into REM sleep during a sermon, but today was different. As the minutes passed and my condition worsened, I had to admit that something was very, very wrong.

“Martin,” I finally whispered with an uncharacteristic sense of urgency, “Baby, wake up.”

“What?” he said, looking around. “I’m not sleeping.” “You’re not going to believe this,” I replied, ignoring his I’m-not-sleeping delusion, “but I think I might be having a freaking heart attack.”

Martin had been with me long enough to know that I was more prone to ignore illness than to overstate it. Looking at me with a combination of uncertainty and concern, he asked, “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“No,” I said, still allowing self-consciousness to trump my mounting alarm. “Let’s wait and see what happens.”

Intent on maintaining my composure, I quietly struggled to catch a healthy breath and endure the distinct sensation that there was a five-hundred-pound weight perched squarely on the center of my chest.

Just five more minutes.

When the service ended, I took Martin’s arm, and with the kids in tow, we made our way down the center aisle toward the exit. Trying to remain ever so dignified in the midst of my increasing distress, we weaved in and out of small groups of people as quickly as possible, intending to beat the exit traffic without drawing undue attention to ourselves. The church folks were in no hurry as they waited in line to be greeted by Pastor Thomas, who stood between us and the door.

Please don’t try to talk to us. I have to get out of here.

Thankfully, an ancient woman whose curved body stood about four feet high had cornered Pastor Thomas, serving as a welcomed detour on the highway of people squeezing past them to make their way into the parking lot. Still holding on to Martin’s arm to maintain my balance, I scurried to the car, fighting the sensation that my legs might go out from under me at any moment. Come on, come on, I repeated to myself. I needed to get into the car. I needed to get home. I needed . . . I needed . . . I didn’t know what I needed, but I knew I didn’t need to be standing in that parking lot.

Martin unlocked the passenger-side door and helped me lift myself into the seat of the SUV as he closed the door. The kids stuffed themselves into the backseat, ignorant of what I was going through and likely expecting me to ask where they’d like to go for brunch. But what they got was something very different.

Note
“Somewhere in the midst of all this, the pain in my chest lifted, and there I was . . . crying ugly and repeating over and over again, ‘It is all true, all of it, it is all true.’”

The minute I found myself in the privacy of the car, a wave of intense emotion came over me. It was like a dam had broken, a flood of pent-up pressure released behind it in the form of sobbing and hysterical crying. Somewhere in the midst of all this, the pain in my chest lifted and there I was—generally a model of rigid self-control and modern accomplishment—crying ugly and repeating over and over again, “It is all true, all of it, it is all true.” In that moment I knew I was not having a heart attack. Instead, despite lifelong skepticism and outright animosity toward traditional religion, without asking or seeking, this skeptical atheist turned churchgoing agnostic had somehow been struck Christian.

© 2010 Joan Ball

A few of my favorite things party

2010-05-14T23:37:00.003-06:00

Munchie, my soon-to-be-five-year-old-and-soon-after-that-a-kindergartner, has had the hardest time deciding on a birthday theme. One day it was Transformers. Then Legos. Then Ben 10. Then he wanted all of them. So the theme became "a few of my favorite things".

I started with a song/invitation (it helps if you sing it!).

Robots that Transform and Thomas the Engine
Legos to build with and my new friend Ben 10

Bright colored packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things
=========

Hot dogs and burgers all cooked on the grill

Great friends and family to share in the thrill

Goodie bags with candy and decoder rings

These are a few of my favorite things!
=========

Will you please come—

To my party—

When I’m turning 5?

We will all share some favorite things

And then we’ll all feel so glad!

Then I googled "make trap door pinata" and found instructions to make this. It is supposed to be a pirate's chest, but I made it a toy box. It is a pull string pinata, so we don't have to blindfold a bunch of preschoolers and then hands out bats. (Who thought that was a good idea?)

Notice that Munchie is supporting Daddy and Papaw's temporary jobs. They are both working the census--John is working for the 3rd time since last spring. The shirt says, "Today we count..March to the mailbox". If you haven't sent in your census form, please be nice when someone, like my father-in-law, comes to your door. Now....back to our program....

I gave Munchie the option of a store bought cake, or one I made. If I made it, I would spend the extra money on toys for the cake. Of course, he acknowledged how priceless a cake made by mommy would be! (Okay, so hechose the extra toys....but a mom can dream, can't she?!?!)

So, in keeping with the "A few of my favorite things" theme, I decided to take 3 rectangular cakes and layer them. The top cake has the center cut out. It is supposed to look like a toybox with toys sticking out. I'm not sure if I accomplished that or not. But it has his favorite toys.

Aerial view:

Along the edges, I painted, "There are a few of my favorite things".

Munchie is NOT, I repeat, NOT wearing his birthday suit in this picture. He is, however, wearing nothing by Transformer underwear. (Hey! He is still 4!) Don't you love the pensive look on his face?!?

The "favorite things" include 4 sand molds (2 Spongebob and 2 Iron Man masks); an AstroBoy figure; a gold Hot Wheels car; 2 small Transformers (one is a robot and one is a car); a Ben10 character (Swamp thing?); and Felipe (the Phillips screwdriver from Handy Manny). In the morning I will throw in some extra Lego parts.

Now...if I can just get the birthday boy to settle down, I can get a little sleep before the party starts.....

DVD set: A History of Christianity

2010-05-14T17:56:00.002-06:00

I had the opportunity to review one of the DVDs from A History of Christianity, which is a six-part series presented by Diarmaid MacCulloch. MaCulloch is an Oxford history professor who is known for his books about the reformation. This series begins in the 7th century and continues to the 20th century. Besides just sharing the people of Christian history, but how Christianity has changed human society.
I look forward to watching the rest of the episodes.

Q & A with Diarmaid MacCulloch,

Host of A History of Christianity

(Part 1 of 2)

Q: A History of Christianity corrects several misconceptions regarding Christianity’s past and traditions, beginning with the earliest days of the fledgling religion. How does the true history of Christianity’s origins differ from the version most of us know?

A: Today, Christianity is seen as a Western faith. Indeed, many in the Muslim world would see Western lifestyles as Christian lifestyles. But Christianity is not by origin a Western religion. Its beginnings are in the Middle East, where there still exist churches which have been Eastern since the earliest Christian era. For centuries, Christianity flourished in the East, and indeed, at one point, it was poised to triumph in Asia, maybe even in China. The headquarters of Christianity might well have been Baghdad rather than Rome, and if that had happened, Western Christianity would have been very different. The story of the first Christianity tells us the Christian faith is, in fact, hugely diverse with many identities. The history of Christianity has been the never-ending rebirth of a meeting with Jesus Christ, the resurrected son of God. For some, like the Oriental and Orthodox churches, the meeting has been through ritual and tradition, or the inner life of the mystic. For Western Catholics, through obedience to the Church. In Protestant churches, through the Bible. And it’s the variety that is so remarkable in Christianity’s journey. It’s reached into every continent and adapted to new cultures. That’s the hallmark of a world religion.

Q: Why does Christian history fascinate you?

A: When I was a small boy, my parents used to drive me around historic churches searching out whatever looked interesting, but soon, they realized they had created a monster. The history of the church became my life’s work. For me, no other subject can rival its scale and drama. For 2,000 years, Christianity has been one of the great players in world history, inspiring faith but also squalid politics. It is an epic story starring a cast of extraordinary people—from Jesus himself and the first apostles to empresses, kings, and popes, from reformers and champions of human conscience to crusaders and sadists. Religious belief can transform us for good or ill. It has brought human beings to acts of criminal folly as well as the highest achievements of goodness and creativity. I will tell the story of both extremes. Christianity has survived persecution, splits, wars of religion, mockery, hatred. Today there are two billion Christians, a third of humanity—Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, Pentecostal, and many more. Deep down, the Christian faith boasts a shared core—but what is it? This is something I wanted to explore on a truly global scale.

Q: Your search for Christianity’s true history begins with a visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. Why does this location tell us about the Christianity’s global roots?

A: The Church of the Holy Sepulcher is said to have been built where Jesus was crucified and buried. At its heart is what’s believed to be his tomb. The church built around the tomb of Jesus is the starting point for a forgotten story, a story that may overturn your preconceptions about early Christianity. Pride of place in this building goes to two churches—the Greek Orthodox church and the Roman Catholic church. It’s true that Orthodoxy and Catholicism dominated Christianity in Europe, in the West, for its first 1,500 years. But as you walk around the edges of the church, you can’t fail to notice other curious little chapels. They’re not Western or European. They’re Middle Eastern and African, and they tell a very different story about the origins of Christianity. Around the back of Jesus’ tomb is Egypt’s Coptic church. There are plenty of other churches at this location, but you need to know where to look: the Syriac Orthodox church, the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, to name a few. Many versions of Christian history would make these churches unorthodox, yet they are far older than better known versions of Christianity like Protestantism. It’s easy for tourists to dismiss these ancient churches as quaint or even irrelevant. But that would be a big mistake.

Q: What are some general differences between the expansion of Western and Eastern Christianity?

A: In the West, Christianity became the religion of an entire empire. This meant the end of persecution. It brought power and wealth. It gave the Christian faith a chance at becoming a universal religion. In theory, it embraced Christians in the Eastern Empire as well as in the West.

But in the east, many Christians were unimpressed by the new alliance—even hostile. At stake were fundamental disagreements about the direction the faith should take. Jesus had told people to abandon wealth, not to ally with the rich and powerful. It was Eastern Christians in Syria who led the way, showing Western Christianity a pattern for spiritual life. We call this pattern monasticism, a way of life involving isolation from the world, austerity, and suffering. The expansion of Eastern Christianity has often taken place apart from any empire. It has often been a religion of dialogue, not conquest.

Note: I received one DVD to review from Audra Jennings of B & B Media group. I received no other compensation for this post.

Code Blue by Richard L. Mabry, MD

2010-05-14T17:35:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Richard L. Mabry, MD

and the book:

Code Blue (Prescription for Trouble)

Abingdon Press (April 1, 2010)

***Special thanks to Susan Salley of Abingdon Press for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

After his retirement from a distinguished career as a physician and medical educator, Richard turned his talents to non-medical writing. Code Blue is his debut novel, the first of the Prescription For Trouble series, featuring medical suspense. Richard and his wife, Kay, make their home in North Texas, where he continues his struggles to master golf and be the world’s most perfect grandfather.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: Abingdon Press (April 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1426702361
ISBN-13: 978-1426702365

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The black SUV barreled out of nowhere, its oversized tires straddling the centerline. Cathy jerked the steering wheel to the right and jammed the brake pedal to the floor. Her little Toyota rocked as though flicked by a giant hand before it spun off the narrow country road and hurtled toward the ditch and the peach orchard beyond it.

For a moment Cathy felt the fearful thrill of weightlessness. Then the world turned upside down, and everything went into freeze-frame slow motion.

The floating sensation ended with a jolt. The screech of ripping metal swallowed Cathy’s scream. The deploying airbag struck her face like a fist. The pressure of the shoulder harness took her breath away. The lap belt pressed into her abdomen, and she tasted bile and acid. As her head cleared, she found herself hanging head-down, swaying slightly as the car rocked to a standstill. In the silence that followed, her pulse hammered in her ears like distant, rhythmic thunder.

Cathy realized she was holding her breath. She let out a shuddering sigh, inhaled, and immediately choked on the dust that hung thick in the air. She released her death-grip on the steering wheel and tried to lift her arms. It hurt—it hurt a lot—but they seemed to work. She tilted her head and felt something warm trickle down her face. She tried to wipe it away, but not before a red haze clouded her vision.

She felt a burning sensation, first in her nostrils, then in the back of her throat. Gasoline! Cathy recalled all the crash victims she’d seen in the emergency room—victims who’d survived a car accident only to be engulfed in flames afterward. She had to get out of the car. Now. Her fingers probed for the seatbelt buckle. She found it and pressed the release button. Slowly. Be careful. Don’t fall out of the seat and make matters worse. The belt gave way, and she eased her weight onto her shoulders. She bit her lip from the pain, rolled onto her side, and looked around.

How could she escape? She tried the front doors. Jammed—both of them. She’d been driving with her window partially open, enjoying the brisk autumn air and the parade of orange and yellow trees rolling by in the Texas landscape. There was no way she could wriggle through that small opening. Cathy drew back both feet and kicked hard at the exposed glass. Nothing. She kicked harder. On the third try, the window gave way.

Where was her purse? Never mind. No time. She had to get out. Cathy inched her way through the window, flinching as tiny shards of glass stung her palms and knees. Once free from the car, she lay back on the grass and looked around at what remained of the orchard, blessing the trees that had sacrificed themselves to cushion her car’s landing.

She rose unsteadily to her feet. It seemed as though every bone in her body cried out at the effort. The moment she stood upright the world faded into a gray haze. She slumped to the ground and took a few deep breaths. Her head hurt, her eyes burned, her throat seemed to be closing up. The smell of gasoline cut through her lethargy. She had to get further away from the car. How could she do that, when she couldn’t even stand without passing out?

Cathy saw a peach sapling a few feet away, a tiny survivor amid the ruins. She crawled to the tree, grabbed it, and walked her hands up the trunk until she was almost upright. She clung there, drained by the exertion, until the world stopped spinning.

Something dripped into her eyes and the world turned red. Cathy risked turning loose with one hand and wiped it across her face. Her vision cleared a bit. She regarded the crimson stain on her palm. Good thing she was no stranger to the sight of blood.

Now she was upright, but could she walk? Maybe, if she could stand the pain. She wasn’t sure she could make it more than a step or two, though. A stout limb lying in the debris at her feet caught her eye. It was about four feet long, two inches thick—just the right size. Cathy eased her way down to a crouch, using the sapling for support. She grabbed the limb and, holding it like a staff, managed to stand up. She rested for a moment, then inched her way along the bottom of the ditch, away from the car. When she could no longer smell gasoline and when her aching limbs would carry her no farther, she leaned on her improvised crutch to rest.

Cathy stared at the road above her. The embankment sloped upward in a gentle rise of about six feet. Ordinarily, climbing it would be child’s play for her. But right now she felt like a baby—weak, uncoordinated, and fearful.

Maybe if she rested for a moment on that big rock. She hobbled to it and lowered herself, wincing with each movement. There was no way she could get comfortable—even breathing was painful—but she needed time to think.

Had the SUV really tried to run her off the road? She wanted to believe it was simply an accident, that someone had lost control of his vehicle. Just like she’d wanted to believe that the problems she’d had since she came back home were nothing more than a run of bad luck. Now she had to accept the possibility that someone was making an effort to drive her out of town.

She’d never thought much about the name of her hometown: Dainger, Texas. She vaguely recalled it was named for some settler, long ago forgotten. Now she was thinking the name seemed significant. Danger. Had the problems she’d left behind in Dallas followed her? Or did the roots lie here in Dainger? Possibly. After all, small towns have long memories. Of course, there could be another explanation. . . . No, she couldn’t accept that. Not yet.

Cathy turned to survey the wreckage of her poor little car. She saw wheels silhouetted against the sky, heard the ticking of the cooling motor. Then she picked up new sounds: the roar of a car’s engine, followed by the screech of tires and the chatter of gravel. It could be someone stopping to help. On the other hand, it could be the driver of the SUV coming back to finish the job. She thought of hiding. But where? How?

She watched a white pickup skid to a stop on the shoulder of the road above the wreckage. A car door slammed. A man’s voice called, “Is anyone down there? Are you hurt?”

No chance to get away now. She’d have to take her chances and pray that he was really here to help. Pray? That was a laugh. Cathy had prayed before, prayed hard, all without effect. Why should she expect anything different this time?

“Is someone there? Are you hurt?”

How should she react? Answer or stay quiet? Neither choice seemed good. She tried to clear the dust from her throat, but when she opened her mouth to yell, she could only manage a strangled whisper. “Yes.”

Footsteps crunched on the gravel shoulder above her, and an urgent voice shouted, “Is someone down there? Do you need help?”

“Yes,” she croaked a bit stronger.

“I’m coming down,” he said. “Hang on.”

A head peered over the edge of the embankment, but pulled back before she could get more than a glimpse of him.

In a few seconds, he scrambled down the embankment, skidding in the red clay before he could dig in the heels of his cowboy boots. At the bottom he looked around until he spotted her. He half-ran the last few feet to where she stood swaying on her makeshift crutch.

“Here, let me help you. Can you walk?”

Blood trickled into her eyes again, and even after she wiped it away, it was like looking through crimson gauze. Cathy could make out the man’s outline but not his features. He sounded harmless enough. But she supposed even mass murderers could sound harmless.

She gripped her makeshift staff harder; it might work as a weapon. “I don’t think anything’s broken.” Her voice cracked, and she coughed. “I’m just stunned. If you help me, I think I can move okay.”

He leaned down and Cathy put her left arm on his shoulder. He encircled her waist with his right arm, supporting her so her feet barely touched the ground as they shuffled toward the slope. At the bottom, he turned and swept her into his arms. The move took her by surprise, and she gasped. She felt him stagger a bit on the climb, but in a moment they made it to the top.

Her rescuer freed one hand and thumbed the latch on the passenger side door of his pickup. He turned to bump the door open with his hip, then deposited her gently onto the seat. “Rest there. I’ll call 911.”

Cathy leaned back and tried to calm down. His voice sounded familiar. Was he one of her patients? She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, but the image remained cloudy.

The man pulled a flip-phone from his pocket and punched in three digits. “There’s been a one-car accident.”

She listened as he described the accident location in detail—a mile south of the Freeman farm, just before the Sandy Creek Bridge. This wasn’t some passer-by. He knew the area.

“I need an ambulance, a fire truck, and someone from the sheriff’s office. Oh, and send a flatbed wrecker. The car looks like it’s totaled.”

“I don’t need an ambulance,” Cathy protested.

He held up a hand and shushed her, something she hadn’t encountered since third grade. “Yes, she seems okay, but I still think they need to hurry.”

Cathy heard a few answering squawks from the phone before the man spoke again. “It’s Will Kennedy. Yes, thanks.”

Will Kennedy? If she hadn’t been sitting down, Cathy might have fallen over. She scrubbed at her eyes and squinted. Will? Yes, it was Will. Now even the shape of his body looked familiar: lean and muscular, just the way he’d been—. No. Don’t go there.

Will ended his call and leaned in through the open pickup door. “They’ll be here in a minute. Hang on.”

He took a clean handkerchief from the hip pocket of his pressed jeans and gently cleaned her face. The white cotton rapidly turned red, and Cathy realized that the blood had not only clouded her vision. It had masked her features.

“Will, don’t you recognize me?”

He stopped, looked at her, and frowned. “Cathy?”

“Yes.” There were so many things to say. She drew in a ragged breath. “Thanks. I appreciate your stopping.”

He gave her the wry grin she remembered so well, and her heart did a flip-flop. “I’d heard you were back in town, and I wondered when you’d get around to talking to me. I just didn’t know it would be like this.” He paused. “And forget about telling me not to have them send an ambulance. I don’t care if you are a doctor now, Cathy Sewell. I won’t turn you loose until another medic checks you.”

Cathy opened her mouth to speak, but Will’s cell phone rang. He answered it and walked away as he talked, while she sat and wondered what would have happened if they’d never turned each other loose in the first place.

* * *

As the ambulance sped toward Summers County General Hospital, Cathy wondered what kind of reception she would get there. Who would be on duty? Would they acknowledge her as a colleague, even though she hadn’t been given privileges yet? When her thoughts turned to recent events, she forced herself to shut down the synapses and put her mind into neutral.

The ambulance rocked to a halt outside the emergency room doors. Despite Cathy’s protestations, the emergency medical technicians kept her strapped securely on the stretcher while they offloaded it. Inside the ER, Cathy finally convinced her guardians to let her transfer to a wheelchair held by a waiting orderly.

“Thanks so much, guys. I’ll be fine. Really.”

At the admitting desk, the clerk looked up from her computer and frowned.

“Cathy?” She flushed. “I . . . I mean, Dr. Sewell?”

“It’s okay, Judy. I was Cathy through twelve years of school. No reason to change.” Cathy looked around. “Who’s the ER doctor on duty?”

“Dr. Patel. He just called in Dr. Bell to see a patient. Dr. Patel thought it might be a possible appendix.” She lowered her voice. “Dr. Bell took one look and made the diagnosis of stomach flu. I couldn’t see the need to call in another doctor for a consultation, but Dr. Patel is so afraid he’ll make a wrong diagnosis.” She pursed her lips as she realized her mistake of complaining about one doctor to another.

“Just be sure Dr. Patel doesn’t hear you say that.” Cathy tried to take the sting out of the words with a wink, but the blood dried around her eyes made it impossible. “Can you call him? I’ve been threatened with dire punishment if I don’t get checked out.”

Judy reached for the phone.

“Don’t bother, Judy. I’ll take care of Dr. Sewell myself.”

Cathy eased her head around to see Marcus Bell standing behind her. He wore khakis and a chocolate-brown golf shirt, covered by an immaculate white coat with his name embroidered over the pocket.

This was a trade Cathy would gladly make—finicky Dr. Patel for superdoc Marcus Bell. In the three years he’d been here, Marcus had built a reputation as an excellent clinician. He was also undoubtedly the best-looking doctor in town.

“Let’s get you into Treatment Room One,” Marcus steered Cathy’s wheelchair away from the desk. “Judy, you can bring me the paperwork when you have it ready. Please ask Marianne to step in and help me for a minute. And page Jerry for me, would you? Thanks.”

Cathy had been in treatment rooms like this many times in several hospitals. Now she noticed how different everything looked when viewed from this perspective. As if the accident and the adrenaline rush that followed hadn’t made her shaky enough, sitting there in a wheelchair emphasized her feeling of helplessness. “I feel so silly,” she said. “Usually I’m on the other end of all this.”

“Well, today you’re not.” Marcus gestured toward the nurse who stood in the doorway. “Let’s get you into a gown. Then we’ll check the extent of the damages.”

Marcus stepped discreetly from the room.

“I’m Marianne,” the nurse said. Then, as though reading Cathy’s mind, she added, “I know it’s hard for a doctor to be a patient. But try to relax. We’ll take good care of you.”

Marianne helped Cathy out of her clothes and into a hospital gown. If Cathy had felt vulnerable before this, the added factor of being in a garment that had so many openings closed only by drawstrings tripled the feeling. The nurse eased Cathy onto the examining table, covered her with a clean sheet, and called Marcus back into the room.

“Now, Cathy, the first thing I want to do is have a closer look at that cut on your head.” Marcus slipped on a pair of latex gloves and probed the wound.

Cathy flinched. “How does it look?”

“Not too bad. One laceration about three or four centimeters long in the frontal area. Not too deep. The bleeding’s almost stopped now. We’ll get some skull films, then I’ll suture it.” He wound a soft gauze bandage around her head and taped it.

Marcus flipped off his gloves and picked up the clipboard that Cathy knew held the beginnings of her chart. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

At first, Cathy laid out the details of the accident and her injuries in terse clinical language, as though presenting a case to an attending physician at Grand Rounds. She did fine until she realized how close she’d come to being killed, apparently by someone who meant to do just that. There were a couple of strangled hiccups, then a few muffled sobs, before the calm physician turned into a blubbering girl. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.” She reached for a tissue from the box Marcus held out.

“No problem. If you weren’t upset by all that, you wouldn’t be normal.” Marcus took an ophthalmoscope from the wall rack and shined its light into her eyes. “How’s your vision?”

“Still a little fuzzy—some halos around lights. I figured it was from the blood running into my eyes.”

He put down the instrument and rummaged in the drug cabinet. “Let’s wash out your eyes. I don’t want you to get a chemical keratitis from the powder on the air bag. I’ll give you some eye drops, but if your vision gets worse or doesn’t clear in a day or so, I want you to see an ophthalmologist.”

“Oh, right.” The fact that she hadn’t thought of that underscored to Cathy how shaken she still was.

“Now, let’s see what else might be injured.” Marcus took her left wrist and gently probed with his fingers. Apparently satisfied, he proceeded up along the bones of the arm. His touch was gentle, yet firm, and Cathy found it somehow reassuring. “We’ll need some X-rays. I want you to help me figure out the right parts.”

“I can’t help you much. I’m hurting pretty much everywhere,” Cathy said. “But, I haven’t felt any bones grating. I think I’m just banged up.”

Marcus turned his attention to her right arm. He paused in his prodding long enough to touch her chin and raise her head until their eyes met. “You’re like all of us. You think that because you’re a doctor you can’t be hurt or sick.”

“That’s not true. I don’t— Ow!” His hand on the point of her right shoulder sent a flash of pain along her collarbone.

“That’s more like it. We’ll get an X-ray of that shoulder and your clavicle. Seatbelt injuries do that sometimes. Now see if you can finish telling me what happened.”

This time she got through the story without tearing up, although Marcus’s efforts to find something broken or dislocated brought forth a number of additional flinches and exclamations.

“I really do think I’m fine except for some bruises,” she concluded.

“Really?”

“Okay, I’m also scared. And a little bit mad.”

A tinny voice over the intercom interrupted her. “Dr. Bell, is Marianne still in there?”

“I’m here,” the nurse replied.

“Can you help us out? There’s a pedi patient in Treatment Room Two with suspected meningitis. They’re about to do a spinal tap.”

“Go ahead,” Marcus said. “We can take it from here.”

No sooner had the nurse closed the door than there was a firm tap on it.

“Jerry?” Marcus called.

“Yes, sir.”

“Come in.”

The door creaked open, and Cathy turned. The pain that coursed through her neck made her regret the decision. A man in starched, immaculate whites strode into the room and stopped at an easy parade rest. A smattering of gray at the temples softened the red in his buzz-cut hair.

Marcus did the honors. “Dr. Sewell, this is Jerry O’Neal. Jerry retired after twenty years as a Marine corpsman, and he’s now the senior radiology technician at Summers County General. He probably knows as much medicine as you and I put together, but he’s too polite to let it show.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Doctor,” Jerry said.

Marcus handed the clipboard chart to Jerry. “Dr. Sewell’s been in an auto accident. She has a scalp laceration I’ll need to suture, but first, would you get a skull series, films of the right shoulder and clavicle?” He thought a bit. “Right knee. Right lower leg. While we’re at it, better do a C-spine too.”

“Yes, sir,” Jerry said. “Is that all?”

Marcus looked back at Cathy. “If you catch her rubbing anything else, shoot it. Call me when you’ve got the films ready.”

Cathy half- expected Jerry to salute Marcus. Instead, he nodded silently before helping her off the exam table and into a wheelchair.

“Don’t worry, Dr. Sewell. You’re in good hands.”

She tried to relax and take Jerry at his word. “Why haven’t I seen you around before this?”

Jerry fiddled with some dials. “I work weekdays as a trouble-shooter for an X-ray equipment company in Dallas. I’m only here on weekends. It fills the empty hours.”

That’s why I was taking a drive on Saturday afternoon. Filling the empty hours. That started a chain of thought Cathy didn’t want to pursue. Instead, she concentrated on getting through the next few minutes.

The X-rays took less time and caused less discomfort than Cathy expected. She could see why Marcus thought so highly of Jerry. Soon she was back in the treatment room, lying on the examination table. Jerry put up two of the X-rays on the wall view box and stacked the others neatly on the metal table beneath it.

“I’ll get Dr. Bell now. Will you be okay here for a minute?”

Cathy assured Jerry that she was fine, although she finally realized how many bumps and bruises she’d accumulated in the crash. Every movement seemed to make something else hurt.

When she thought about what came next, her anxiety kicked into high gear. Would Marcus have to shave her scalp before placing the stitches? She recalled her own experiences suturing scalp lacerations in the Parkland Hospital Emergency Room. Maybe it was a woman thing, but she’d felt sorry for those patients, walking out with a shaved spot on their head, a bald patch that was sometimes the size of a drink coaster. She hated the prospect of facing her patients on Monday in that condition. Truthfully, she even hated the prospect of looking at herself in the mirror. She was thinking about wigs when Marcus reentered the room.

“Let’s see what we’ve got.” He stepped to the view box and ran through the X-rays. “Skull series looks fine. . . . Neck is good. . . . Shoulder looks okay. . . .The clavicle isn’t fractured. . . . You are one lucky woman. Looks like all I have to do is suture that scalp laceration.”

Cathy was surprised when Marcus didn’t call for help, but rather assembled the necessary instruments and equipment himself. When he slipped his gloves on, she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. The fact that she’d been on the other end of this procedure hundreds of times just made her dread it more.

Marcus’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the wound. Soon she felt the sting of a local anesthetic injection. After that, there was nothing except an occasional tug as he sutured.

Cathy processed what she’d just felt. “You didn’t shave my scalp.”

“Now why would I want to mar that natural beauty of yours? I didn’t paint the wound orange with Betadine, either. I used a clear antiseptic to prep the area and KY jelly to plaster the hair down out of my way. The sutures are clear nylon that won’t be noticeable in your blonde hair. When I’m finished, I’ll paint some collodion over the wound to protect it. In the morning, clean the area with a damp cloth, brush your hair over it, and no one will know the difference.”

Cathy couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “Natural beauty?” This was certainly at odds with what she’d been told about Marcus Bell. Since the death of his wife, Marcus apparently wanted nothing to do with women. Rumor had it he’d turned aside the advances of most of the single women in Dainger. Was he flirting with her now? Or was this simply his bedside manner?

Marcus snapped off his gloves and tossed them in the bucket at the end of the table. “See me in a week to remove the stitches—unless you want to stand on a box and look down on the top of your own head to remove them yourself.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stop being my own doctor,” she said.

“How about something for the pain?”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

“Tetanus shot?”

“I’m current.”

“Then how about dinner with me next Thursday?”

Once more, Cathy felt her head spin, but this time it had nothing to do with tumbling. about in a runaway auto.

* * *

Cathy had always dreaded Monday mornings, but none so much as this one. Today it was time to show her face to the world.

She took one last look in the mirror. Cathy had figured that her fair complexion would make her bruises show up like tire tracks on fresh snow, but the judicious application of some Covermark had done its job well. The redness she’d noticed in her eyes two days ago had responded well to the eye drops Marcus prescribed. And, true to his prediction, she’d been able to style her hair so that the blonde strands almost hid the stitches in her scalp. A little more lipstick and blusher than usual, drawing attention to her face instead of her hair, and maybe she could fake her way through the day.

No matter how successful she’d been in covering the outward signs of the accident, it was still impossible for her to move without aches and pains. She popped a couple of Extra Strength Tylenol, washed them down with the remnants of her second cup of coffee, and headed out the door to face another week. If the medication kicked in soon, maybe Jane wouldn’t notice that Cathy moved like an old woman. Maybe Jane hadn’t heard the news about the accident. Yeah, and maybe the President would call today and invite Cathy to dinner at the White House.

Cathy tried to sneak in the back door, but Jane’s hearing was awfully good for a woman her age. She met Cathy at the door to her office, clucking like a mother hen and shaking her head. “Dr. Sewell, what happened to you?”

What a break it had been for her when Jane—a trim, silver-haired grandmother with a sassy twinkle in her eye—answered her ad for a combination office nurse and secretary. She’d helped Cathy set up the office, given her advice on business, and provided a sympathetic ear on more occasions than she could count.

Cathy recognized Jane’s question as rhetorical. Having grown up in Dainger, Cathy knew how quickly news spread in her hometown. She’d bet that Jane had known about the accident before Cathy had cleared the emergency room doors on Saturday. By now, probably everyone in town knew.

“I was out for a ride in the country. I needed to relax and clear my mind. Then someone ran me off the road out near Big Sandy Creek. My car went out of control, flipped, and took out a row of Seth Johnson’s peach trees.” Cathy winced as she dropped her purse into the bottom drawer of her desk. “Dr. Bell sutured a laceration on my scalp.”

“Any other injuries? Do we need to cancel today’s patients?”

Cathy shook her head, aggravating a headache that the Tylenol had only dulled. “Other than the fact that I feel like I’ve just finished a week of two-a-day practices with the Dallas Cowboys, I’m okay.”

“It’s good that you have a nice light schedule today. You can take it easy.”

Cathy frowned. A “nice light schedule” for a doctor just getting started as a family practitioner wasn’t exactly the stuff she dreamed about. She needed patients. The money from the bank loan was about gone, and her income stream was anything but impressive. But, she’d do the best she could. Anything had to beat living in Dallas, knowing she might run into Robert.

Speak of the devil. Cathy actually shuddered when she saw the return address on the envelope sitting in the middle of her desk: Robert Edward Newell, M.D.

She clamped her jaws shut, snatched up a brass letter opener, and ripped open the envelope. Inside were two newspaper clippings and a few words scribbled on a piece of white notepad with an ad for a hypertension drug at the top of the page. The first clipping announced the engagement of Miss Laura Lynn Hunt, daughter of Dr. Earl and Mrs. Betty Hunt, to Dr. Robert Edward Newell. The second featured a photo of Laura Lynn and Robert, she in a high couture evening gown, he in a perfectly fitting tux, arriving at the Terpsichorean Ball. The note was brief and to the point: “See what you’ve missed?” No signature. Just a reminder, one that made her grit her teeth until her jaws ached. Leave it to Robert to rub salt in her wounds.

She forced herself to sit quietly and breathe deeply, until the knot in her throat loosened. Then she wadded the clippings and note into a tight ball, which she consigned to the wastebasket with as much force as she could muster.

No use rethinking the past. Time to get on with her life. “Jane,” she called. “May I have the charts for today’s patients? I want to go over them.”

Jane returned and deposited a pitifully small stack of thin charts on Cathy’s desk. The look in Jane’s eyes said it all. Sorry there aren’t more. Sorry you’re hurting. Sorry.

Cathy picked up the top chart but didn’t open it. “Do you think I made a mistake coming here to practice?”

Jane eased into one of the patient chairs across the desk from Cathy. “Why would you ask that?”

“I applied at three banks before I got a loan. When I mention to other doctors that I’m taking new patients, they get this embarrassed look and mumble something about keeping that in mind, but they never make any referrals. Several of my patients tell me they’ve heard stories around town that make them wonder about my capabilities. And my privileges at the hospital have been stuck in committee for over a month now.” Cathy pointed to the stitches in her scalp. “Now the situation seems to be escalating.”

“You mean the accident on Saturday?”

“It was no accident. I’m convinced that someone ran me off the road and intended to kill me.”

“Did you report it?” Jane asked.

“Yes, but fat lot of good it did. If Will Kennedy hadn’t insisted, I think the deputy who came out to investigate the accident would have written the whole thing off as careless driving on my part.” Cathy grimaced. “Of course, he may do that anyway.”

“What was Will Kennedy doing there?”

“He came along right after the wreck. When I couldn’t manage under my own power, Will carried me up the embankment. Then he insisted I go to the emergency room, and when they were loading me into the ambulance he slipped his card into my hand and whispered, ‘Please call me. I want to make sure you’re okay.’” Cathy pulled a business card from the pocket of her skirt, smoothed the wrinkles from it, and put it under the corner of her blotter.

“Did you phone him?”

Cathy shook her head. “I started to, but I couldn’t. I’m not ready to get close to any man. Not Will Kennedy. Not Marcus Bell. Not Robert Newell.” She took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out through pursed lips. “Especially not Robert Newell.”

“Who is—?”

Before Jane could finish, Cathy spun around in her chair and pulled a book at random from the shelf behind her. “Not now. Please. I need to look up something before I see my first patient.” She paged through the book, but none of the words registered.

Jane’s voice from behind her made Cathy close the book. “Dr. Sewell, you asked me a question. Let me answer it before I go. I don’t know if someone’s really making an effort to run you off. I’ve heard some of those rumors. They’re always anonymous, like ‘Somebody told me that Dr. Sewell’s not a good doctor.’ Or ‘I heard Dr. Sewell came back to Dainger because she couldn’t make it in Dallas.’ You have to ignore the gossip and rumors. They’re part of living here.”

Cathy swiveled back to face Jane. “I thought it would be easier to get my practice started in my hometown.”

“It might be, except that people here will compare you to your daddy, who was the best surgeon Dainger ever saw. In that situation a young, female doctor will come up short, no matter how qualified she is.”

Cathy tossed the book on her desk and held her hands up, palms forward. “If someone wants to get rid of me, they’re close to succeeding. I don’t know how much longer I can go on.”

“You’re a fighter, and I’m right here with you. Just stick with it.” Jane turned and walked toward the doorway.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Jane stopped and faced Cathy once more. “Have you been out to visit your folks?”

“It won’t do any good. There’s nothing for me there. I don’t have anything to say.”

Jane shook her head. “Sometimes you don’t have to say anything. Sometimes you simply have to make the effort and go. It’s the only way you’ll ever put all that behind you.”

Let's have a Daddy Day by Karen Kingsbury

2010-05-06T17:00:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Karen Kingsbury

and the book:

Let’s Have a Daddy Day

Zonderkidz (April 13, 2010)

***Special thanks to Pam Mettler of ZonderKidz for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

New York Times bestselling author Karen Kingsbury has written more than forty of her Life-Changing Fiction titles and has nearly sixteen million in print. Dubbed by Time magazine as the Queen of Christian Fiction, Karen receives hundreds of letters each week and considers her readers friends. Her fiction has made her one of the country’s favorite storytellers, and one of her novels, Like Dandelion Dust, is under production for an upcoming major motion picture release. Her emotionally gripping titles include the popular Baxter family novels, the 9/11 Series, Even Now, Ever After, and Between Sundays. Karen and her husband, Don, live in the Pacific Northwest with their six children, three of whom are adopted from Haiti. You can find out more about Karen, her books, and her appearance schedule at her website.

Dan Andreasen lives in Medina, Ohio, with his wife and three children. He has illustrated more than thirty picture books. When his daughter was asked by her first grade teacher, “What kind of work does your daddy do?” she replied, “He colors.”

Product Details:

List Price: $15.99
Reading level: Ages 4-8
Hardcover: 32 pages
Publisher: Zonderkidz (April 13, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310712157
ISBN-13: 978-0310712152

TO BROWSE THE BOOK, CLICK ON THE BUTTON BELOW

Let's Have a Daddy Day

Just Like You by Marla Stewart Konrad

2010-04-30T16:58:00.000-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Marla Stewart Konrad

and the book:

Just Like You: Beautiful Babies Around the World

Zonderkidz (March 9, 2010)

***Special thanks to Pam Mettler, Associate Director of Public Relations, ZonderKidz for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Marla Stewart Konrad is keenly interested in global issues and has a special concern for the well-being of children. Her career as a speechwriter and communications professional has taken her to numerous countries in Asia and Africa. She lives near Toronto, Canada, with her family, and is the author of several books for children.

Product Details:

List Price: $15.99
Reading level: Ages 4-8
Hardcover: 32 pages
Publisher: Zonderkidz (March 9, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310714788
ISBN-13: 978-0310714781

Please Click the Button to Browse Inside the Book:

Wonder Hanger

2010-04-28T17:35:00.002-06:00

I've seen the ads for Wonder Hanger for some time. I was excited to try them out. Unfortunately, most of the closets in my house are not set up for this type of hanger. My closet has good bars, but we have two layers of of racks and our clothes almost touch. The kids also have a double bar. Chewie was very anxious to try out the Wonder Hangers. His closet isn't really set up right either. (He has a modular closet unit, and there is not round bar.) But he wanted to use them anyway. Before I knew it, he had his huge collection of shirts lined up on Wonder Hangers.

The Wonder Hangers were easy to assemble, although some of them required a bit of muscle to attach. It took less than 5 minute to assemble all of them. The Hangers are as easy to use as the commercials show.

Product Name: Wonder Hanger
Price: $9.99 plus P&H (Buy one, get one free; just pay extra P&H)

Put out by: Wonder Hanger

The Wonder Hanger® is an affordable tool that's great for any Spring Cleaning features. This cascading clothes organizer increases closet space by enabling you to stack clothes vertically. Each Wonder Hanger holds 5 wood, metal or plastic hangers. There are 8 hangers to a package – enough to hang 40 garments. The open-mouth design allows you to easily add or remove your jackets, skirts, pants and shirts. Supporting up to 20 pounds, it can hold up to 5 heavy winter jackets.

You can use it to group complete outfits or similar items, organize by color or season, and hang handbags or belts. It retails for $9.99 and can be purchased at major retail chains including Walmart, Target, Bed Bath and Beyond and CVS and online at www.buywonderhanger.com.

This is a Mama Buzz review. The product was provided by: Wonder Hanger for this review.

Mom Central's Mother's Day Gift Guide

2010-04-27T12:03:00.002-06:00

Check out Mom Central's Mother's Day Gift Guide!

They are giving away some great prizes, including:

See's Candy, "L'Occitane Experience" VivaBox, and a Shark Cordless Vac.

I wrote this review while participating in a blog campaign by Mom Central. Mom Central entered my name into a random drawing to win a gift card to thank me for my participation.

Live Big! by Katie Brazelton

2010-04-23T03:00:00.001-06:00

I have been a fan of Katie Brazelton for quite a while. My church recently opened a Life Purpose Coaching Center. One of our pastors, his wife, and his assistant are all Life Purpose Coaches who trained with Katie Brazelton. Last March, I completed a Life Plan with Nelda, one of the Life Purpose Coaches. Katie has written some incredible books on finding and fulfilling your unique purpose. (I know that my kingdom purpose is to connect women.) Katie has a new book now that celebrates life, and encourages us to Live Big!

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Katie Brazelton

and the book:

Live Big! 10 Life Coaching Tips for Living Large, Passionate Dreams

Howard Books; Original edition (February 2, 2010)

***Special thanks to Blythe Daniel of The Blythe Daniel Agency, Inc. for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Katie Brazelton, Ph.D., M.Div., M.A., is a life coach and bestselling author. She is the founder of Life Purpose Coaching Centers International, which trains Christians worldwide to become Life Purpose Coach professionals and assist others to discover and fulfill God’s plan for their lives. Dr. Brazelton was formerly a licensed minister and director of women’s Bible studies at Saddleback Church and now is a professor at Rockbridge Seminary. She lives in Southern California and has two children and two grandchildren. She is the author of the bestselling series Pathway to Purpose for Women and Character Makeover: 40 Days with a Life Coach to Create the Best You.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 160 pages
Publisher: Howard Books; Original edition (February 2, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1439135606
ISBN-13: 978-1439135600

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Introduction

Imagine that you and I are being pampered in first class, relaxing comfortably on an afternoon flight to your favorite world-class resort. As we gaze out the airplane window, it seems as though we're floating through an endless sea of marshmallow clouds, soaring together through the heavens. Up here, dreams somehow seem crystal clear. I think it's because we can pretend we've risen above the rough, mountainous terrain of life and can look down on our hills and valleys, seeing events from a fresh perspective.

From this bird's-eye view, glance down at what is below: your daily routine, closest relationships, untapped potential, and countless opportunities. Let this vantage point help you set your sights on a passionate megadream and an inspiring hope for the future!

I would not dare to author a book on such an important topic as Living Big without practicing what I preach. So, as I write this, I am on a flight to Hawaii (I wish it were first class) for an extended stay to consider living there indefinitely. I was raised in Hawaii and the Marshall Islands in a navy family, so the tropical breeze has always been alluring to me. Might this be where I will plant another Life Purpose Coaching Center...or find the time to launch my long-dreamed-of radio show...or finish this book? I don't know the answers to those questions, but I do know that I can't fail, because this is simply an experiment, with memories waiting to be made. I'm not going to rush the process or force a decision, only enjoy the journey to yea or nay. There is no right or wrong way to dream.

Well, actually, I do believe there's one wrong way, and that is to let the dream stagnate without taking any action!

I am embarking on this time of exploration because I am in a new season of my life, formally ending two decades of single parenting. My son recently accepted an out-of-state job promotion, taking his sweet wife and my two young grandsons with him. Shortly thereafter, my daughter announced her engagement, which means she, too, will be moving away from our home area. In the blink of an eye, without my permission, I have been thrust into a new chapter of my life. On one hand, I am sad and fearful. On the other hand, now I have no more excuses for not doing whatever I want, which is another way of saying "whatever I feel God is calling me to do next."

I am operating in a spirit of supersized living right now, and not just because I may soon be draped in large muumuus, walking barefoot to the local market to buy macadamia-nut chocolates, and blatantly enticing my family with extended holiday vacations in paradise.

Dreaming in high definition and surround sound -- and then taking appropriate steps to live those dreams -- is what this book is all about. You may not have a burning desire to move to a distant land, but what do you want out of life? Are you a student anxiously finishing college? A young mom who's busy raising twins? An overseas missionary on a brand-new assignment? A career woman vying for an enviable position? A widow with only a few pressing obligations? Regardless of your role in life, you and I have a few things in common:

- We love to dream.

- God designed us to dream.

- And there's no day like today to start discovering God's best!

I need you to know that I'm not so far up in the clouds that I am unaware of your everyday realities. Life has prepared me well to be your Life Coach. I have a testimony of brokenness, and I'm honored to help you dream. Check out what I call "My 7 Big D's" -- events that shaped me for nearly twenty years.

My 7 Big D's

1982 Barely survived a serious, four-month depression.

1986 Devastated by a totally unexpected divorce.

1988 Confused about having to rewrite my doctoral dissertation.

1990 Deeply saddened by the death of my exhusband.

1991 Angered by a corporate downsizing, which left me laid off just days after buying a home.

1993 Terrified by a dating incident.

2001 Shocked by the death of my dream when my first book contract was canceled due to budget cuts after 9/11.

What does this list tell you, other than that I must have built up a lot of stamina by now? It says that you can trust me to understand what you're going through and to tell it like it is when I coach you -- without skirting around the issues. I care deeply about making sure you don't get stuck in the quagmire of life, as I did too many times.

These chapters will take you on a journey to find what you're really jazzed about -- what makes you smile, laugh, play, sing, and dance. It's time to daydream about the adventure God has in store for you!

Amos 4:13 tells us that God reveals His thoughts to us: "He who forms the mountains, who creates the wind, and who reveals his thoughts to mortals, who turns dawn to darkness, and treads on the heights of the earth -- the Lord God Almighty is his name." We want to do whatever it takes to be ready for that revelation.

As your Life Coach, I will come alongside you like a Barnabas (a name that Acts 4:36 tells us means "son of encouragement"). We will enjoy life-changing chats about you, stealing precious moments within your hectic schedule. I know how hard it is for you to find time for a conversation about your legacy, your destiny, your divine urge. As you are able to sneak away from your daily routine, it will be my job and my joy to sit with you and draw out of you the distinct calling God laid on your heart eons ago, before you were ever born. And then, equally important, we will put baby steps in place to help you live out your exciting, God-designed purpose, which has long been the desire in your soul even if it has lain dormant.

This book is loaded with modern, true stories of everyday saints, Bible character parallels, inspirational quotes, some of my favorite Scripture verses, heartfelt prayers, ten coaching tips, forty action steps, reflection questions, and practical exercises with sample answers from my own life to trigger your thinking. (Don't miss the Web downloads, too, which are my special gift to you!) You will hear from real women -- students, wives, mothers, a widow, career women, church staff members -- who all have tremendous testimonies to share. I urge you to break all of the normal book-reading rules and jump into the chapters in any sequence you please. Did you know that doing the unexpected can change your perspective, which will then cause you to see your world through new eyes?

I've chosen these particular topics for us to explore in detail as we discover what it takes to Live Big!

1. Face Your Fears

2. Learn to Exhale

3. Honor Your Deepest Longings

4. Don't Ever Give Up

5. Use Your Past for Good

6. Expect Miracles

7. Forgive Someone

8. Eat Dessert First

9. Ask Jesus for Vision

10. Capture Your Live Big! Dream

I can't help but think: If only someone had told me that! or Why didn't I learn that in school? Frankly, I feel there ought to be a law mandating that schools teach us to be tenacious, forgiving, and courageous. We need classes at church that help us reach for our dreams, expect miracles, focus forward, and breathe calmly through adversity. But most important, we must learn how to play and to stop taking ourselves so seriously and to start cherishing God's incredibly specific plan for our lives. In this way, we address the habits that help us attract or sabotage God's boldest wishes for us.

Each of the ten coaching tips will give you a broader, richer understanding of how to run and finish the race well.

You probably picked up this book because you want to travel boldly down the path to purpose and fulfillment, yet perhaps you've lost sight of your dreams, hopes, and longings -- possibly because of regrets, exhaustion, stubbornness, fears, sins, and so on. We're all burdened with something. You want to bring glory to God with your life, but you may be carrying such a heavy weight of boredom, loneliness, doubt, pride, and/or hopelessness that you've forgotten how to unleash your creativity. The biblical perspective in this book will help you hear God's promptings more clearly and act on them with pure joy.

I encourage you to dream big dreams during this eyeopening, heart-pounding quest. Let me share with you forty proven, incremental steps that I personally have used for years and have coached my clients through -- action steps that will help you to live a significance-filled life. God will be honored, and you will be blessed. You will find yourself empowered beyond your wildest imagination as you Live Big!

Will you take your first small step today?

Power PraiseMoves™ DVD by Laurette Willis

2010-04-15T01:01:00.002-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Laurette Willis

and the book:

Power PraiseMoves™ DVD

December 1, 2009

***Special thanks to David P. Bartlett - Print & Internet Publicist - Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Laurette Willis, the founder of PraiseMoves®, is a Women’s Fitness Specialist and certified personal trainer, as well as a popular keynote speaker and an award-winning actor and playwright. She has produced the videos PraiseMoves™ and 20-Minute PraiseMoves™ and written BASIC Steps to Godly Fitness.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $16.99
Actors: Laurette Willis
Directors: Josh Atkinson
Format: NTSC
Region: All Regions
Number of discs: 1
Studio: CT Videography
DVD Release Date: December 1, 2009
Run Time: 120 minutes
ASIN: 0736928456

AND NOW...A SAMPLE OF THE VIDEO:

The Secret Holocaust Diaries by Nonna Bannister

2010-04-12T23:06:00.000-06:00

About a year ago, I told you about a book called: The Secret Holocaust Diaries by Nonna Bannister. The FIRST Wild Card Tour visited the book this week, and I thought I would share more information about the book.

==================

Today's Wild Card author is:

Nonna Bannister

and the book:

The Secret Holocaust Diaries: The Untold Story of Nonna Bannister

Tyndale House Publishers (March 4, 2010)

***Special thanks to Vicky Lynch of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Nonna Bannister was a young girl when World War II broke into her happy life. She went from an idyllic early-twentieth-century Russian childhood, full of love and comforts, to the life of a prisoner working in labor camps—though she was not a Jew—eventually bereft of her entire family. But she survived the war armed with the faith in God her grandmother taught her and a readiness to start a new life. She immigrated to America, married, and started a family, keeping her past secret from everyone. Though she had carried from Germany the scraps of a diary and various photographs and other memorabilia, she kept it all hidden and would only take it out, years later, to translate and expand her writings. After decades of marriage, Nonna finally shared her secret with her husband . . . and now he is sharing it with the world. Nonna died on August 15, 2004.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 336 pages
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers (March 4, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1414325479
ISBN-13: 978-1414325477

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Geocaching: Our new family hobby

2010-04-11T15:50:00.002-06:00

I first heard of Geocaching* (defined below) a few years ago (I think it was my HP friend Melanie!), but I didn't have a GPS (global positioning system). I got a GPS unit last month, so I decided to check it out. I found The Official Global GPS Cache Hunt Site. I figured that, since I live in a relatively small city (about 50,000) about 3 hours from anywhere, there would be few "caches" in Roswell. Boy was I surprised! There are 385 caches within 25 miles of my front door. (Half of them are within 5 miles!)

Our first day out (last Saturday) we found 4 caches. We also didn't find 4 others. Some are easy finds; others require some serious digging. If you are in Roswell, I recommend you start with Space Mail. It was our first search, and when we pulled up, we had no doubts we were in the right place.

Chewie (the 12 year old) is really enjoying it! He has helped me enter the coordinates in the GPS (when I couldn't get the computer to connect); he carries the GPSr (that is the receiver); and he has found 2 of the 5 caches we have logged.

Crunchy (6) and Munchie (4) enjoy the idea of a treasure hunt, but they get bored easily.

The reason I was so interested in beginning geocaching is I wanted to find something we could do as a family, that would get us outside and moving, and that would be something new for all of us. Geocaching fits the bill completely!

*What is geocaching?

According to Geocaching.com:

Geocaching is a high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices. The basic idea is to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, outdoors and then share your experiences online. Geocaching is enjoyed by people from all age groups, with a strong sense of community and support for the environment.

According to Wikipeida:

Geocaching is an outdoor activity in which the participants use a Global Positioning System (GPS) receiver or other navigational techniques to hide and seek containers (called "geocaches" or "caches") anywhere in the world. A typical cache is a small waterproof container (usually atupperware or ammo box) containing a logbook. Larger containers can also contain items for trading, usually toys or trinkets of little value. Geocaching is most often described as a "game of high-tech hide and seek", sharing many aspects with orienteering, treasure-hunting, andwaymarking.
Geocaches are currently placed in over 100 countries around the world and on all seven continents, including Antarctica. As of April 10, 2010, there are over 1,031,429 active geocaches over the world.

Deadly Disclosures by Julie Cave

2010-04-08T05:47:00.001-06:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Julie Cave

and the book:

Deadly Disclosures

New Leaf Publishing Group/Master Books (February 15, 2010)

***Special thanks to Stacey Drake of New Leaf Press for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Julie first heard a creation science speaker at her church when she was just 15, igniting her interest in creation science and sparking an enthusiasm for defending the Bible’s account of creation. She has obtained a degree in health science, and is currently completing a degree in law. Julie is married with one daughter and lives on the east coast of Australia.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $9.99
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: New Leaf Publishing Group/Master Books (February 15, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0890515840
ISBN-13: 978-0890515846

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Thomas Whitfield climbed out of the Lincoln Towncar and stood in the snappy, early morning fall air, breathing deeply. The temperature had fallen a few more degrees overnight, signaling that winter was truly on its way.

Thomas glanced up and down the wide street. There was nobody around at this early hour, and he took a moment to drink in the sights of his beloved city. The graceful willows, their branches arching over the street, were turning gold and red and, in the gentle yellow morning light, threw off highlights like burnished copper. This street was like many others in the center of DC — wide and tree-lined, with magnificent government buildings standing one after the other. That was another thing that Thomas found so delicious about this city — so much of it hinted at the enormous wealth and prosperity of the country, and yet only a few streets behind these world-famous landmarks, the seedier side of American poverty flourished. It was a city of contradictions, Thomas thought.

His gaze fell finally to the building right in front of him — the main complex of the Smithsonian Institution. Enormous stone pillars flanked the entryway into a marble lobby, and behind that were laid out the evidence of mankind’s brilliance. Everything about the institution was testament to the scientific and anthropological advances of man over the pages of history — the inventions, the discoveries, the deductions, the sheer radiance of a human being’s intelligence at its finest.

Thomas Whitfield had always been immensely proud of this place, and everything it showcased. He had boasted about it, defended it, nourished it, and protected it, the way a proud father would his prodigious child.

He was the secretary of the Smithsonian, after all, and he felt a strange kind of paternal relationship with the buildings and their contents.

He stood for a moment longer, a slender whippet of a man dressed immaculately, with highly polished shoes gleaming, thinning dark hair cut short, and a gray cashmere scarf to ward off the cold. Then he purposefully strode down the path and into the main building, scarf fluttering behind him.

To the malevolent eyes watching him through high-powered binoculars down the street in a non-descript Chevy, he presented a painfully easy target.

Thomas settled in his large office with the door shut, turned on the computer, and shut his eyes briefly as he contemplated what he would do next. The course of events he had planned for this day would change everything, and the impact would be felt right up to the president himself. Courage, Thomas, he told himself silently. What you are about to do is the right thing to do.

He began to type, slowly and decisively, feeling within himself a great sense of conviction and purpose. He was so lost in concentration that he was startled by the door suddenly swinging open.

“What are . . . ?” he exclaimed, almost jumping off his seat. Then he recognized his visitor and he glanced at his watch.

“What are you doing here?” Thomas asked. “It’s a little early for you, isn’t it?”

“I wanted to be sure I caught you,” his visitor replied, moving closer to the desk. “Without any interruptions.”

“I see. What can I do for you then?” Thomas asked, trying to hide his irritation. He hadn’t wanted to be interrupted during this most important task.

“What are you working on?” the unannounced guest asked, ignoring him and moving around the side of the desk and trying to look at Thomas’s computer screen.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Thomas answered with a falsely airy tone. “It’s just a family project. Nothing to do with work. Is there something I can help you with?”

Thomas was suddenly aware that his visitor was standing close by him. He felt uncomfortable, and tried to roll his chair away to maintain some space.

“You see,” his visitor said in a quiet voice, “there are people out there who don’t agree with you. They think the project you are working on could be very dangerous. In fact, I believe they have already tried to warn you about continuing with this project.”

Thomas now felt distinctly uncomfortable and a little afraid. He decided to assert his authority. “Listen here,” he said, in a voice that betrayed his anxiety. “What I am working on is none of your business. The subject is certainly not up for discussion with somebody like you. I suggest you leave my office immediately.”

The visitor managed to fuse sorrow and menace into his words as he said, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You will have to come with me.”

Thomas retorted, “I’m not going anywhere with you. In fact, I. . . .” He broke off abruptly as he saw the small handgun in the visitor’s hand, pointing directly at him. There was no sorrow or pity on his face — only menace.

“Do I need to force you to come with me?” the visitor wondered, his tone like flint.

Thomas leapt to his feet, his eyes darting about wildly. He needed to get out of here, to try to get away from this situation that had so rapidly gotten out of hand. A hand shot out and grabbed Thomas by the collar with surprising strength. Thomas was shocked as he strained to get away from the man, who was intently staring at the computer screen.

“You traitor!” Thomas spat. “I should’ve known you were nothing more than a trained monkey!”

The visitor chuckled heartily. “That’s ironic, Thomas.”

The visitor, much younger and stronger than Thomas, began to drag him out of the room. Thomas was determined not to go down without a fight, and drove his heel backward into the visitor’s shin. There was a yelp of pain, but the unrelenting grip did not lessen around Thomas’s arm. Instead, a thick arm curled around Thomas’s throat and squeezed, applying pressure to the carotid artery. It took only a few seconds for Thomas to fall limply into the arms of his abductor as the blood supply to his brain was cut off.

That was the last anyone saw of the secretary of the Smithsonian Institute.

• • • •

Dinah Harris woke with a scream dying in her throat, the sheets twisted hopelessly around her legs. Her nightgown was damp with panicked sweat, her heart galloping like a runaway horse. She stared, blinking, at the pale dawn light streaming through the window, while the shadowy vestiges of her nightmare slithered from her memory.

As she lay in bed, joining the waking world from sleep, the familiar blanket of depression settled over her, dark and heavy as the Atlantic winter. The dread she felt at facing another day was almost palpable in the small bedroom. Dinah glanced across at her alarm clock, where the flashing numbers showed 6 a.m.

She threw aside the sheets and stumbled into the tiny bathroom, where she purposefully avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She was only in her mid-thirties and had once been relatively attractive. Certainly not beautiful, but with what her first boyfriend had once told her — a pleasant face and athletic body. Now her eyes were always underscored by dark bags, her skin pale and paper-thin, and the weight fell off her in slow degrees without ceasing. She dressed in her trademark dark pants suit, pulled her black hair from her face in a severe ponytail, and washed her face.

She made strong coffee and sat in the kitchen as she drank the bitter liquid. The dining alcove was still stacked with moving cartons, filled with books and music that she couldn’t face opening. The gray light of morning lent no color to the apartment, which suited Dinah just fine. Her world didn’t contain color anymore.

Though traffic often seemed at a standstill in the mornings, Dinah always arrived early to the J. Edgar Hoover building. She turned directly to the teaching wing, avoiding the eye contact and morning greetings of many she knew in the building. She knew what they whispered about during after-work drinks and at the water cooler. Her fall from grace would go down as one of the most spectacular in FBI history.

So she kept up the ice-cool veneer until she arrived at her desk, checking her e-mails and teaching schedule for the week.

She didn’t look up as an imposing shadow fell across her desk.

“Special Agent Harris, how are you?” boomed the voice of her former colleague, David Ferguson. He was a big man, six-four and two hundred pounds, with a loud, booming voice and a penchant for pork rinds. He stood above her, his hand resting easily on the holstered gun at his hip; the twin of a gun Dinah no longer wore but kept underneath her pillow.

“Ferguson,” she replied. “Fine, how are you?”

“Feel like a coffee?” he asked.

“Don’t you have a killer to catch?” Dinah asked, dryly.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, they can wait. Come on.”

He took her to a tiny Italian café a block away from the FBI headquarters. While they ordered, Dinah wondered at his ulterior motive for bringing her here. It certainly isn’t for my sparkling wit and charm, she thought. Rumor had it that the freshman criminology classes were afraid of her.

“So I’m just wondering if I could get your opinion on something,” Ferguson began, tentatively testing the water.

She scowled at him. “You know I don’t get involved in cases.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, calm down, Harris. I just want your opinion. I know you’ve given up your real talents to teach some snotty freshmen.”

His comment stung her, but she narrowed her eyes at him and pretended she hadn’t even noticed. “So get on with it already.”

“I don’t remember you always being this prickly,” complained Ferguson, draining his macchiato. “Anyway. What would you say if I told you the secretary of the Smithsonian Institution had gone missing?”

“Missing?” Dinah raised her eyebrows and slurped her latte. “In what context?”

“As in, turned up for work at six this morning and disappeared off the face of the earth shortly thereafter.”

“How do you know he turned up for work at six?” Dinah asked.

“Security cameras have him arriving in the lobby and heading for his office. After that, who knows?”

“So he’s an adult, maybe he took a trip to get away from work stress or his wife has been giving him grief or his kid is in trouble.” Dinah frowned. “Why are we even involved at this early stage?”

Ferguson paused. “It’s due mostly to his rather prestigious position. It wouldn’t do for the secretary of the Smithsonian to simply disappear. Congress is rather anxious.”

Dinah knew of political influence that ran high in this city but didn’t press the issue. “Is there evidence of homicide?”

“Not really, although I haven’t been to his office yet.” Ferguson made it sound like a confession, and he looked at her sheepishly.

Dinah stared at him. “What do you really want, Ferguson?”

He gathered up his courage. “I need you to work this case with me, Harris.”

Dinah opened her mouth to respond indignantly, but Ferguson held up his hand and continued with a rush. “You know I’m not good with sensitive cases. I. . . .”

“Or complex ones,” interjected Dinah, bad-temperedly.

“I’m operating on a hunch that this is a bad case, that it involves people in the White House.” Ferguson must have needed her very badly to allow her comment to go unheeded.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I have a heavy teaching workload,” she said. “So I’ll have to limit my involvement to opinions only.”

Ferguson didn’t say anything but looked even guiltier.

“What have you done?” Dinah demanded.

“I may have cleared your schedule so you could work with me.” Ferguson examined his fingernails with great concentration.

Dinah waited for a beat. “I see. You’ve spoken to my superiors?”

He nodded. “They’ve agreed to lend you to me for as long as the case takes.”

Dinah stood abruptly. “Thanks for the coffee.” She walked angrily from the café.

Ferguson stared at her as she walked off, then slapped down some crumpled notes and heaved his bulk out of the chair. “Where are you going?” Ferguson asked, struggling to keep up with her.

She wheeled around and glared directly at him. “Who do you think you are? Do you think I’m lesser than you so you can sneak around behind my back?”

“Dinah, we really need you back in the field. You were — are — brilliant.” Ferguson spoke softly, hoping to calm her down.

“My field days are behind me, with very good reason,” snapped Dinah. I can’t see a dead body anymore. I can’t feel desire to catch the person who did it. I just want to lie down beside the body and feel the same endless peace of sleep.

“Please, I’m begging you. I need you back,” Ferguson said. Then it hit her. Dinah realized that this situation was very serious. Ferguson was the last person on the planet to beg anybody.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” she said dully. She knew that this case could break her.

Ferguson didn’t reply, and his answer was in his silence.

• • • •

The Smithsonian Institution was bustling with tourists and school kids as if nothing had gone wrong. Dinah and David strode into the main lobby, trying unsuccessfully to look casual. When they flashed their badges discreetly, they were allowed into the inner sanctum, where Thomas Whitfield’s personal assistant was fielding phone calls.

The secretary was young and pretty, with thick, dark hair waving gracefully to her shoulders, startlingly blue eyes, and a creamy olive complexion. Her only downfall was the thick eye makeup, applied to make her eyes stand out but which had the effect of making her look like a scared raccoon. “I’m afraid Mr. Whitfield simply cannot be interrupted at present,” she snapped into the phone. “I’ll have him call you back if you’d leave a message.”

She glanced up and saw the two agents standing at her desk. She gave them a wave to acknowledge their presence, repeated the details of the caller, scribbled furiously, and then hung up.

“Good morning,” she said, jumping to her feet. “If you caught the end of that conversation, you’ll know that Mr. Whitfield is in an extremely important meeting and. . . .”

“Save it,” interrupted Dinah, showing the secretary her badge. The young woman blushed. “We’re here to investigate the disappearance of Mr. Whitfield. What is your name?”

The secretary sat down hard, looking relieved. “I’m Lara Southall. I’m so worried about Mr. Whitfield.”

Ferguson flashed his partner a frown and took charge. “I’m Special Agent David Ferguson and this is Special Agent Dinah Harris. You’ll have to excuse her; she’s been out of the field for some time and has forgotten how to relate to people.”

Dinah opened her mouth to reply with outrage, but Ferguson continued, “Can you tell us about this morning?”

Lara Southall regarded Dinah with a mixture of amusement and fear, which Dinah filed away for future reference. “I got to work at eight o’clock as usual,” she replied. “Mr. Whitfield always arrives before me. I usually turn on my computer, get settled, and then get us both a coffee. When I opened his office door to give him the coffee, the room was empty.” As the girl spoke, she tapped perfectly manicured fingernails together absently. Dinah hated manicured fingernails: they reminded her of her distinctly unattractive, chewed-to-the-quick fingertips.

“Mr. Whitfield was due to give a presentation at eleven o’clock,” Lara continued. “So I didn’t really start worrying until about ten-thirty. He hates to be late, and he had to come back to get his presentation and make it uptown in less than half an hour. At eleven, I started to make some calls.”

“Has he ever been absent from the office before?” Ferguson asked.

“Sure, he often has meetings or goes out into the museum to talk to visitors. The thing is, I always know what he’s doing. That’s part of my job. He never goes anywhere during the day without letting me know.”

“So you started making calls at eleven. Who did you call?” Dinah asked impatiently.

Lara ticked off her fingers as she remembered. “I called his cell phone, and I called the other museums. I thought maybe he’d just forgotten to tell me he had a meeting. Nobody had seen him and his cell just rang out. So I called his home. His wife told me he’d left for work at about five-thirty and she hadn’t seen him since. Then I called some of the senior executives. I thought they might’ve had an emergency. But nobody had seen him.”

“Did the people you called — his wife, the executives — seem concerned about his whereabouts?” Ferguson asked.

“Yes, they did. It’s so unusual for Mr. Whitfield to act this way that everyone I spoke to was concerned. I think his wife is actually here somewhere at the moment.”

“So then you called the police?” Dinah said.

“No, one of the directors came over to look at the security tapes. She specifically told me not to call anyone until she’d viewed the footage. I thought that Mr. Whitfield might’ve had an accident on the way to work. Mrs. Whitfield was calling the hospitals when Ms. Biscelli — the director — came back from security.”

“What did the tapes show?” Dinah asked.

“They showed him arriving at six-thirty or so. That’s all I know.”

“Did any of the tapes show him leaving?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Right. So what then?”

“I called the police.”

Ferguson nodded. “What did they tell you?”

“Basically they won’t do anything until he’s been missing 24 hours.” Lara stopped clicking her nails together and started twisting her hair with one finger. “So I told Ms. Biscelli, and she wasn’t happy with that. I think she must’ve pulled some strings, because here you are.”

Dinah and Ferguson both raised their eyebrows at her in confusion.

“The FBI,” explained Lara. “You guys wouldn’t normally get involved, would you?” She may have been a very pretty secretary, but Lara Southall was an intelligent girl. She’d asked the very question Dinah had been mulling over all morning.

“We’re going to look in his office,” Ferguson said, ignoring the question. He handed her his card. “Please call me if you think of anything else that might be helpful.”

She nodded and picked up the ringing phone. “No,” she said, sounding very weary. “Mr. Whitfield is in a meeting at the moment and can’t be disturbed.”

• • • •

Ferguson opened the door to the office while Dinah waited to get the log-on details for Thomas Whitfield’s computer. Dinah stood in the doorway, looking into the impressive room, and felt the thrill of the chase wash over her like a wave. It had been a long time since she had felt anything.

The office was furnished with heavy cedar furniture that consisted of a large desk, a leather-bound chair, a couch, and two armchairs grouped around a glass-topped coffee table and one entire wall of built-in bookcases. The floor was covered with thick burgundy carpet, and the drapes at the picture window were also burgundy. The walls contained portraits of several great scientists and inventors — Dinah recognized Charles Darwin, Thomas Edison, and the Wright Brothers — as well as photos of the secretary with the president, the queen of England, and other dignitaries. The room itself was clean and uncluttered, likely symbolic of the man himself, Dinah thought.

Ferguson was moving around the room, muttering to himself, as was his habit. Dinah had forgotten how intensely annoying she found this habit. She preferred silence so that she could concentrate.

Having received the log-on details from Lara, Dinah strode to the desk and pulled on her latex gloves. The top of the desk was shiny and would be a great medium to obtain fingerprints. She was careful not to allow herself to touch the desktop while she turned on the laptop.

“By the way, Harris,” Ferguson said from the wall of bookcases, “I forgot to mention that if something has happened to Mr. Whitfield, the media scrutiny is likely to be intense.”

Dinah scowled at the screen of the laptop. She hated the media, and it was a long-term grudge she held from the last case she’d been involved in. “You can handle it,” she said. “I want nothing to do with those vultures.”

Ferguson glanced over at her. “Of course I’ll handle it. But I can’t guarantee that they’ll leave you alone.”

Dinah tapped her foot against the leg of the desk impatiently as the laptop struggled to come to life. “Sticks and stones, Ferguson,” she said tightly. “Words can never hurt me.”

She could see that Ferguson didn’t buy the lie, but he’d decided to let it go. He at least knew not to push too far.

“This whole office is giving me a weird vibe,” he said after a moment. “It’s too . . . organized.”

Dinah logged onto the laptop. “I’m listening.”

“Look at the desk,” Ferguson mused. “No files or paperwork. Not even a pen or a Post-It note. No diary.”

“Maybe he’s just really neat,” Dinah said, opening Outlook on the laptop.

Ferguson went back to his muttering as he continued drifting around the room. Dinah frowned as she clicked through the folders in Outlook. Then she opened the other programs on the computer and looked through the folders there.

“That’s odd,” she commented at last. Ferguson looked up and came over to her.

She clicked through the inbox, sent items, and calendar of the e-mail program. There were no entries in any of them. “They’re completely clean,” she said. “The calendar is the strangest. You’d think the secretary of the Smithsonian Institution would have at least a couple of meetings a week.”

“Maybe he uses a paper diary,” suggested Ferguson.

“Certainly a possibility,” agreed Dinah. “But couple the empty calendar with the fact that he’s neither received nor sent an e-mail from this computer and something isn’t right.”

Ferguson opened the desk drawers and started looking through them.

“Also,” added Dinah, “there is not one single saved document in any other program — no letters, articles, presentations, anything. The entire computer is as if it’s never been used.”

Ferguson sat back on his heels. “You think someone has wiped his computer?”

“Well, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question is: did Thomas Whitfield wipe his own computer before disappearing or did someone else wipe his computer before abducting him?” Dinah began to shut down the programs. “After all, there is no evidence to suggest that he has been abducted. There’s no sign of a struggle in here or blood stains, is there?”

Ferguson shook his head. “No, there isn’t. But there is something off about this office. Nobody, least of all a man in his position, can get through a working day without sending an e-mail or doing paperwork of some kind.” He gestured at the desk drawers. “There’s absolutely nothing in them.”

“I agree,” Dinah said. She closed the laptop and picked it up. “I’m going to have the lab look at the hard drive. What else?”

“I’ll call in crime scene to lift some fingerprints and check for blood.” Ferguson paused, thinking. “I’d like to talk to Ms. Biscelli, and I’d like to talk to his wife.”

Dinah nodded. “If Mr. Whitfield has been abducted, what do you suppose is the motive?”

Ferguson considered. “I don’t know. Money? Fame? Half the time I think these loonies go around killing people just so they can get their name in the news.”

Dinah stared at him. “Do you think Thomas Whitfield is dead?”

He shrugged. “Right now, Harris, I know nine-tenths of absolutely nothing. Let’s talk to Ms. Biscelli. Maybe she’ll know what happened and we can solve this case before dinner time and I’ll get a decent night’s sleep.”

Flippancy, Dinah remembered, was just Ferguson’s way of dealing with the intensity of this job and the horror they’d witnessed over the years.

Winner: RandomLine Game

2010-04-03T11:37:00.003-06:00

Who said #1 never comes up on Random.org? Our winner of the RandomLine game contest is:

Tim who left the first comment.

Keep your eyes open for several new giveaways going live soon!

Shopping Trip

2010-03-30T21:57:00.000-06:00

It has been a while since I have posted a coupon trip. Actually it has been a while since I have made a coupon shopping trip. Mostly because I don't get coupons locally and I haven't done any trading. I didn't do a lot, but for $5.35 I got about $40 worth of groceries.

This week Albertson's was doubling up to 50 cents (so most coupons were worth $1). And they had a lot on sale for $1.

My haul:
3 bags of Cheetos (67 cents each!)
3 boxes of Betty Crocker potatoes
2 bags of Green Giant veggies
5 bottles of NesQuik milk
10 Reese's PB eggs
2 Noodle Bowls
2 Zataran's rice dishes

Not a bad haul for 5 bucks!
Sent from my BlackBerry Smartphone provided by Alltel

Feeling Lucky Lately!

2010-03-29T18:59:00.004-06:00

I hadn't been entering very many sweepstakes and contests for a while, but I recently have started up when I can. I stopped, not because I wasn't winning stuff, but because I was spending too much time on it. Now, when I can, I enter a few (or a few dozen) depending on the amount of time I have. For the most part, I have only been entering blog contests. I choose them because they are easy to enter, and the chances are higher. If there are a lot of entries (posts) I don't bother to enter unless I really want the prize. And, the other difference is I don't enter unless it is something I could really use.

WOW! I just finished assembling this post. Prior to January, my last Win email was in September. Since January, I have won more than a dozen prizes! Over $500 + a prize worth over $1500! That puts my 3 month total at over $2000!

Since January, I have won:

A $15 iTumes gift card (ARV $15) from A Frugal Mind
A summer tote bag (ARV $17) from Simply Bags (via Twitter)
Jillian Michaels Ultimatum for Wii (ARV $40) from Viewpoints.com (via Twitter)

84 Ritter Sport Mini Chocolate bars (ARV $60) from Sweet Deals 4 Moms

4 tubes of Palmer's Cocoa Lip Butters (ARV $12) from ChocolateBytes

Romantic assortment (ARV $80) from MommyMandy
Prima Princessa Swan Lake DVD (ARV $20) from MuseReviews

An assortment of gifts from Christian Mom Business Resource

$10 GC to Barefoot Books (ARV $10)
Core4 Shaker Bottle full of "CHEAT" samples (ARV ?)
ALS chart from PCS (laminated) (ARV $5)
Package of Starbucks Coffee beans from The Boy's Store
Handmade key chain from Peacock Pottery

A bunch of coupons from Honoring the King
Takeout Menu Organizer (ARV $20) from What's That Buzz?

Tiny Tongs (ARV $8) from Simple (plus host sent me her set too!)

Backseat Drawing Jr (ARV $25)) from Life with 5 Monkies

Journal Buddies for Boys (ARV $17) from Confessions of a Psychotic Housewife

$35 Jiffy Lube GC + $100 coupon book (ARV $35) from Happy Healthy Families

My biggest win (ever) was A queen size Serene mattress from NaturaWorld (ARV $1650)

For promoting various contests on my blog, I also won:
NLT Life Application Bible (ARV $50)

$50 Lands End gift card (ARV $50)
Case of Cottonelle Toilet Paper (ARV $20)

Real Food Project

2010-03-28T19:23:00.003-06:00

Celebrity chef Bobby Flay and actress/mom Lori Loughlin have teamed up with Hellmann's® and Best Foods® Mayonnaise to unveil the Real Food Project on Hellmanns.com, a comprehensive online resource offering tips and ideas on how to create real meals made with Real Food.

Because videos are great for multi-tasking moms, The Real Food Project features a series of entertaining how-to tutorials, hosted by Bobby Flay, to give us tools and techniques to prepare great-tasting, at-home meals for our families. Just by visiting www.Hellmanns.com, you can access a wide range of recipes, including sandwiches, entrees and side dishes, all designed to please picky palates. There are even chances to win great prizes like a kitchen essentials bundle, Bobby Flay Grill It and Hellmann's® and Best Foods® products by playing the "Wheel of Real" instant win game and entering the Real Food Sweepstakes.

What are you waiting for? Head over to Hellmanns.com to stock up on tips and great tasting recipes.

Disclosure: I was entered for a chance to win a Hellmann's® prize package in exchange for this post. No monetary exchange took place.

Winners! SafetyTats and Zippity Doos

2010-03-26T17:48:00.002-06:00

Thanks for participating! I have one more contest still going (RandomLine Game), and several new contests that will be posted in the next couple of weeks.

The winners.....

SafetyTats:

lilyk #7
Sara @ Embracing Destiny #1

Zippity Doos

dispatcher_kristy

Watch your email, and send your contact info by Monday, March 29th.

Where Do We Go? by James F. Weinsier

2010-03-26T11:15:00.000-06:00

I had the opportunity to review Where Do We Go? by James F. Weinsier and illustrated by Cliff Beaman ($12.95, Wondrous Publications, softbound).

James F. Weinsier's child-friendly, non-secular exploration of death compatibly blends with any religious, spiritual or nondenominational framework, opening a pathway for parents, caregivers and other adults to approach the subject of death within any given belief system, while giving children the comfort they desperately need. Where Do We Go? helps them find the answers to the mystery of death within their own hearts.

When I first read the quote above, I was a little concerned. How could a book be compatible with "any religious" framework and still work for my belief system? I believe in a Creator God who has prepared Heaven for His children when they die. How could a book that answers questions about death work for my child and someone from another (or no) faith? The answer is...it doesn't. I mean, the book doesn't answer the questions. The author poses the questions with the intention of beginning a dialogue. The answers you give your child depend on your personal belief system.

My kids and I really enjoyed the questions. The questions range from the weather to every day life, "will we age there?" and "how will we get there?" It was fun to discuss the possiblities of where our pets would be and if balloons would float away or stay and dance around us.

The pictures are delightful. The expressions on faces and the attention to detail are impressive. The use of color is incredible.

The only thing I didn't like--and this is a personal preference--is the font used. The font used on the cover is used throughout the book. I don't mind it for the cover art, but it was a bit "fanciful" for me when I was reading. Another consideration is my 6 year old early reader had a little trouble making out the words with all the curly ques.

Overall, we enjoyed the book. I am sure we will revisit it many times. My oldest son had to learn about death at an early age (he lost 2 grandparents when he was 13 months old). My other two kids have not been touched by death yet.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born in New York City in 1945, James Weinsier was raised on Long Island. He received an Associates Degree in Applied Sciences from Nassau Community College in 1964, followed by service in the U. S. Navy. Upon completing his tour of duty, he resumed his education at the University of Miami, graduating with a Bachelor Degree in Business Administration. He is now retired and lives with his wife, in Fernandina Beach, FL.
Weinsier first grappled with writing in 1996, when in anticipation of his daughter's 21st birthday, he decided to give her something unique and straight from his heart. The result was a 100-page journal of special memories he and his daughter shared written in poetic verse. The manuscript was so well-received by his daughter that he published a 70-page book of thoughts for his father, Here…and Afterthoughts, and gave it to him for his 90th birthday. James continued to write, and three years after his first published work was released More…Thoughts was completed. This book contains 199 pages of sentiments commonly shared between parents and their children. James presented it to his father on his 93rd birthday-shortly before his passing.
In 2006, James experienced the devastating losses of three family members: his father, a son and grandson, Isaac Randolph, who died in a neonatal infant care unit from complications of necrotizing enterocolitis (an intestinal disorder) 10 days after his premature birth. In response to the pertinent questions from his other young grandchildren about what happens to us after we die, James wrote a children's book, Where Do We Go?, which was published in 2008.
"Wondrous" events took place a couple of weeks after the book's publication, which was two years after Isaac's death. On the exact month and day of Isaac's death and only a few minutes from the exact time of his death on that date, Weinsier's daughter gave birth to her second child, James Walter. Baby James was premature and followed his brother's path into the NIC Unit. Fortunately, his issues were not catastrophic, and on his 10th day of life, James W. was strong enough to go to his family's home in Kansas; while on the 10th day after Isaac's birth, he had passed away. Both boys went "home" on the 10th day...

This is a Mama Buzz review. The product was provided by: Wondrus Publications for this review.

Rattlesnakes, oh my!

2010-03-25T00:45:00.008-06:00

As promised, I have pictures from the Rattlesnake Museum. We got two free tickets when we bought 2 free tickets by using Tropicana Juicy Rewards.

First, we were greeted by signs such as:

Countless numbers of people have visited the Rattlesnake Museum and gone on to live normal lives.

and

We love tourists at the Rattlesnake Museum (they taste just like chicken)

Then we paid $11. (One adult and one child were free).

As promised, we saw snakes. This one was striking the glass, but I couldn't time the picture right.

There were 3 (count 'em! 3) rattlesnakes in this cage.

But the Rattlesnake Museum is not just devoted to more Rattlesnakes (more live varieties than several large zoos combined, according to their website). They also feature other creatures that strike fear in a (wo)man's heart. Such as tarantulas (bel0w) and scorpions.

Alas, there were a few creatures that didn't cause goosebumps and hair raising, such as the turtles and Gila (hee-la) Monsters.

There was also a collection of various items with snake or reptile themes including: a rattlesnake slot machine and a statue of "Blind Justice" stepping on a snake. And a collection of beverages (mostly beers) with names like "Gator"; "Cobra"; and "SnakeBite".

But I found my peaceful spot in the midst of the scary stuff. A Precious Moments figurine with a boy and girl and a turtle. Awww....serenity!

Overall, we enjoyed the visit. Munchie got a little creeped out a times and wanted to leave. Chewie had a blast! But he is into all that science stuff! If you are ever in Old Town Albuquerque, it is worth a visit to the Rattlesnake Museum.

Blockbuster Express

2010-03-25T00:19:00.003-06:00

Don't you just love renting DVDs? We have a huge DVD collection (that we own) but we also like to rent DVDs. We have tried local stores, mail order, and the box vending machines. By far, my favorite is the box vending machines.No memberships. No expensive plans for months when you just don't have time to watch movies. And easy to rent and return. We don't have a Blockbuster Express in our town (yet) but they are offering a great introduction savings.

As a busy Mom, I know that there isn't always time to even rent a DVD. Taking the whole family down to your local movie rental store can end up being an hour long ordeal. By the time you get home you're too tired to even watch the movie and what seemed like a great idea ended up being quite a chore. Luckily, I've found the perfect solution!

Moms, here is your newest secret weapon: BLOCKBUSTER Express™ kiosks. They make renting DVDs fast, easy, and affordable! You can rent DVDs online for only $1 per night atblockbusterexpress.com and you don't even need a membership to do it.

Through the rent online feature at blockbusterexpress.com, you can create a favorites list, browse available movies at your preferred kiosk, complete the rental of up to three movies at once online and then pick up the DVDs from the kiosk at your convenience. Now you can spend less time renting and more time enjoying your DVDs with your family.

Start planning your next movie night tonight! BLOCKBUSTER Express has offered a special Rent One Get One Free coupon code for MomSelect members, and I get to share with all of my friends, family and followers. The coupon code is 555G13B.

When you rent a movie at the regular price using the code in the banner above, you'll receive the first night's rental on the second movie FREE. This offer expires on 3/31 so make sure to take advantage of it soon and encourage your friends to do the same!

Lands End Twitter Party

2010-03-25T00:05:00.002-06:00

My friends at Mom Select asked me to tell you about this great Twitter party!

Join Lands' End and representatives from the Islands Of The Bahamas and iexplore.com for a Twitter Event to celebrate the Lands' End's Bahamas Adventure to Harbour Island promotion at The Hub www.landsend.com/thehub. The site features engaging content focusing on travel through the summer as well as the chance to win a trip for four to the pink-sand beaches of Harbour Island.

Be a part of this exciting Twitter Event and tweet with representatives from Lands' End, the Islands Of The Bahamas and iexplore.com. The event will feature more than 25 fun giveaways ranging from Lands' End luggage, beach towels, travel kits, beach bags and gift cards.

Lands' End Harbour Island Twitter Event
Date: Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Time: 7:00 p.m. until 9:00 p.m. CST
Location: #landsend

Join the fun and follow:
@LEprMichele, @LEprMolly, @LEprLibby, @VisitTheBahamas,
@iexplore and @iexplore_Amanda

2 Giveaways ending tomorrow

2010-03-21T15:31:00.003-06:00

and there is still time to vote (you can vote daily!)

Top Mommy Blog

I have managed to climb up from 1200+ to around #183 in the past couple of weeks. And I am #12 in the Working Mom category. But your vote could help me climb higher! :)

Click on the link (or the brown button on the right hand side) and then click on the Vote on the next screen.

There are two giveaways ending tomorrow:

** Zippity Doos

** SafetyTat

And one ends next monday.

* RandomLine game

Chosen by Ginger Garrett

2010-03-19T08:00:00.002-06:00

Once again, my friend Ginger has done an excellent job of weaving the historical facts with creative storytelling to share Esther's story.

Today's Wild Card author is:

Ginger Garrett

and the book:

Chosen

David C. Cook; New edition (March 1, 2010)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, of The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Focusing on ancient women’s history, critically acclaimed author Ginger Garrett creates novels and nonfiction resources that explore the lives of historical women. In addition to her writing, Garrett is a frequent radio and television guest. A native Texan, she now resides in Georgia with her husband and three children.

Visit the author's website.

Chosen, by Ginger Garrett from David C. Cook on Vimeo.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; New edition (March 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1434768015
ISBN-13: 978-1434768018

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Prologue

Fourth Day of the Month of Av

Year 3414 after Creation

If you have opened this, you are the chosen one.

For this book has been sealed in the tomb of the ancients of Persia, never to be opened, I pray, until G-d1 has put His finger on a new woman of destiny, a woman who will rise up and change her nation. But we will not talk of your circumstances, and the many reasons this book may have fallen into your hands. There are no mistakes with prayer. You have indeed been called. If this sounds too strange, if you must look around your room and question whether G-d’s finger has perhaps slipped, if you are not a woman with the means to change a nation, then join me on a journey. You must return with me now to a place without hope, a nation that had lost sight of G-d, a girl with nothing to offer, and no one to give it to.

I must introduce myself first as I truly am: an exiled Jew, and an orphan. My given name was Hadassah, but the oppression of exile has stripped that too from me: I am now called Esther,2 so that I may blend in with my captors. My people, the Hebrew nation, had been sent out of our homeland after a bitter defeat in battle. We were allowed to settle in the kingdom of Persia, but we were not allowed to truly prosper there. We blended in, our lives preserved, but our heritage and customs were forced underground. Our hearts, once set only on returning to Jerusalem, were set out to wither in the heat

of the Arabian sun. My cousin Mordecai rescued me when I was orphaned and we lived in the capital city of Susa, under the reign of King Xerxes.3 Mordecai had a small flock of sheep that I helped tend, and we sold their fleece in the market. If times were good, we would sell a lamb for someone’s celebration. It was always for others to celebrate. We merely survived. But Mordecai was kind and good, and I was not forced into dishonor like the other orphans I had once known. This is how my story begins, and I give you these details not for sympathy, but so you will know that I am a girl well acquainted with bitter reality. I am not given to the freedom in flights of fantasy. But how can I explain to you the setting of my story? It is most certainly far removed from your experience. For I suspect that in the future, women will know freedom. And freedom is not an easy thing to forget, even if only to entertain an orphan’s story.

But you must forget now. I was born into a world, and into this story, where even the bravest women were faceless specters. Once married, they could venture out of their homes only with veils and escorts. No one yet had freed our souls. Passion and pleasure, like freedom, were the domain of men, and even young girls knew the wishes of their hearts would always be subject to a man’s desire for wealth. A man named Pericles summed up my time so well in his famed oration: “The greatest glory of a woman is to be least talked about by men, whether they are praising you or criticizing you.” Our role was clear: We were to be objects of passion, to receive a man’s attention mutely, and to respond only with children for the estate. Even the most powerful woman of our time, the beautiful Queen Vashti, was powerless. That was my future as a girl and I dared not lift my eyes above its horizon. That is how I enter this story. But give me your hand and let us walk back now, past the crumbling walls of history, to this world forgotten but a time yet remembered. Let me tell you the story of a girl unspared, plunged into heartache and chaos, who would save a nation. My name is Esther, and I will be queen.

1 Out of respect for God, Jews write the name of God without the vowels, believing that the name of God is too holy to be written out completely by a human. God is referred to as either “G-d” or “YHVH.”

2 The name Esther is related to the Persian name of Ishtar, a pagan goddess of the stars.

3 Esther refers to the king by his Persian name. In the Hebrew texts of antiquity, he is also referred to as Ahasuerus.

1

Eleventh Day of Shevat

Third Year of the Reign of Xerxes

Year 3394 after Creation

Was it today that I became fully awake, or have I only now begun to dream? Today Cyrus saw me in the marketplace haggling gently with my favorite shopkeeper, Shethana, over the price of a fleece. Shethana makes the loveliest rugs—I think they are even more lovely than the ones imported from the East—and her husband is known for his skill in crafting metals of all kinds. When I turned fifteen last year, he fashioned for me a necklace with several links in the center, painted various shades of blue. He says it is an art practiced in Egypt, this inlaying of colors into metal shapes. I feel so exotic with it on and wear it almost daily. I know it is as close to adventure as Mordecai will ever allow.

But as Shethana and I haggled over the fleece, both of us smiling because she knew I would as soon give it to her, Cyrus walked by eating a flatbread he had purchased from another vendor. He grimaced when he took a bite—I think he might have gotten a very strong taste of shallot—and I laughed. He laughed back, wiping his eyes with his jacket and fanning his mouth, and then, oh then, his gaze held my eyes for a moment. Everything in my body seemed to come alive suddenly and I felt afraid, for my legs couldn’t stand as straight and steady and I couldn’t get my mouth to work. Shethana noticed right away and didn’t conceal her grin as she glanced between Cyrus and me. I should have doubled the price of her fleece right then!

Cyrus turned to walk away, and I tried to focus again on my transaction. I could not meet Shethana’s eyes now—I didn’t want to be questioned about men and marriage, for everyone knows I have no dowry. To dream of winning Cyrus would be as foolish as to run my own heart straight through. I cannot dream, for it will surely crush me. And yet I can’t stop this warm flood that sweeps over me when he is near.

I haven’t told you the best part—when Shethana bought her fleece and left, I allowed myself to close my eyes for a moment in the heat of the day, and when I opened them again, there was a little stack of flatbread in my booth. I looked in every direction but could see no one. Taking a bite, I had to spit it out and started laughing. Cyrus was right—the vendor used many bitter shallots. The flatbread was a disaster.

©2010 Cook Communications Ministries. Chosen by Ginger Garrett. Used with permission. May not be further reproduced. All rights reserved.

2 New Contests from New Living Translation

2010-03-16T21:00:00.002-06:00

My contact at Tyndale House, Adam Sabados, asked me to tell you about a couple of contests and giveaways starting tomorrow! (March 17th).

First:

The New Living Translation Break Through to Clarity Bible Contest and Giveaway
Visit www.facebook.com/NewLivingTranslation and click on the tab that says “Sweepstakes”
Fill out a simple form, take a quick Bible clarity survey, invite your friends to join and you’ll be entered to win one of our exciting prizes.
With each fan number milestone a new prize will be given away.
Grand Prize
Apple iPad 64G and a Life Application Study Bible
Awarded when the NLT Fan Page hits the fifth milestone
Retail Value: $829.00
2nd Prize
32G iPod Touch and a Life Application Study Bible
Awarded when the NLT Fan Page hits the fourth milestone
Retail Value: $300.00
3rd Prize
Kindle DX and a Life Application Study Bible
Awarded when the NLT Fan Page hits the third milestone
Retail Value: $489.00
4th Prize
Apple iPad 16G and a Life Application Study Bible
Awarded when the New Living Translation Fan Page hits the second milestone
Retail Value: $499.00
5th Prize
Apple iPad 32G and a Life Application Study Bible
Awarded when the NLT Fan Page hits the first milestone
Retail Value: $599.00

Prize Eligibility
Only persons residing in United States who are at least 18 years of age can enter.

Sweepstakes Starts
March 17, 2010 @ 10:24 am (PDT)

Sweepstakes Ends
April 30, 2010 @ 10:24 am (PDT)

I want to win the iPad!

Second:

Visit http://biblecontest.newlivingtranslation.com/index.php for a chance to win a trip for two to Hawaii!
Here’s the details:
Choose one of six passages of Scripture from the New Living Translation and consider:
How do these verses encourage you to know God better?
What is God teaching you in this passage?
How does this passage apply to your life?
Submit your answer and you’ll be entered to win.
Just for signing up: Everybody Wins! Win a Free .mp3 download from the NLT’s new Red Letters Project. It’s the dynamic, new presentation of the sung and narrated words of the Gospel of Matthew. You win the download just for entering! Or choose to download the NLT Philippians Bible Study, complete with the Book of Philippians in the NLT.
Every day, one person will win the best-selling Life Application Study Bible!
The grand prize: One person will win a fantastic trip for two to the crystal clear waters of the Turtle Bay Resort on Oahu’s North Shore in beautiful Hawaii.

Your invited to leave you're comments

2010-03-14T12:01:00.002-06:00

Okay. Raise your hand if you cringed when you read the title of my post. You didn't see anything amiss? Take a second to reread. Go ahead. I will wait.

I had a high school teacher who drilled into us the importance of correct spelling and correct word usage.

These mistakes drive me nuts!

This sign was from our local super center. "Your invited". Um... Your invited friend came to the party?

Let's review:
your means possessive (like my or his)
you're is contraction for you are (like I'm)

While we are at it...
Hear (uses your ear)
Here (is spelled like there)

And..
There (like here)
They're (contraction of they are)
Their (possessive like her)

Lesson over. Any questions?

Vote for me! (Please!)

2010-03-13T18:03:00.002-07:00

Would take a moment to click on the link above (or on the side bar). You can vote once each day. I have climbed from #900 to about #394 this week. I wonder how high I can climb?