Unknown Expectations


Photo Courtesy of Pixabay


I’m bent out of sorts in a large way. The end of 2017 is only hours away and that means the end of the old and beginning of the new. My mind is all for the new year. My heart isn’t.

2017: I finally found my soul mate and I also married him. We met and I thought only of him as a friend whom I had no romantic feelings…so I told myself. I fell head over heels in love with him. We found in each other, what we had searched years for.

2017: I finally realized I can’t take life for granted. I lost my dad back in 2004 to cancer and I wasn’t given a chance to grieve over him. I wasn’t allowed to. So losing my mom the beginning of December of this year I realized that I need to enjoy life, enjoy the days I have sharing them with my husband. Not to take anything for granted. And not to hold any ill will towards anyone or have a bad thought. Negativity only shortens a persons life.

2017: I finally found a church and church family I never thought was possible. They are an amazing group of people who always put other’s first. Love flows from our church and our Pastor Sue is an amazing woman as well as a sweet and caring person and pastor.

What do I expect of 2018? What should I expect?



52 Week Blog Challenge


I have “Bloggers Block” quite a lot. I’m hoping between this 52 week blog challenge and Daily Prompt, I’ll have plenty to post. I’m not starting this until the New Year but I’m going to have daily posts for DAILY PROMPT
So here is what to expect each week from this challenge, and I’ll post every Thursday:
Week One: Meet The Blogger
Week Two: Behind The Scenes
Week Three: Strengths & Weaknesses
Week Four: Things I Spend My Money On
Week Five: Why I Started Blogging
Week Six: Meet My Pet
Week Seven: Playing Chef
Week Eight: What’s In My Grocery Cart
Week Nine: Love/Hate Relationships
Week Ten: A Day In The Life
Week Eleven: Favorite TV Shows
Week Twelve: My Bucket List
Week Thirteen: Be The Change You Wish To See
Week Fourteen: My Favorite Things
Week Fifteen: Instagram Roundup
Week Sixteen: You May Not Know
Week Seventeen: Becoming A Better Me
Week Eighteen: A Letter To My Younger Self
Week Nineteen: Most Embarrassing Story
Week Twenty: Meet My Husband
Week Twenty-One: My Bad Habits
Week Twenty-Two: What’s On My Phone
Week Twenty-Three: What Blogging Has Taught Me
Week Twenty-Four: 3 Cities I Want To Visit
Week Twenty-Five: Currently
Week Twenty-Six: DIY
Week Twenty-Seven: My Favorite Quotes
Week Twenty-Eight: OCD Habits
Week Twenty-Nine: Ten Years From Now
Week Thirty: Planner Showcase
Week Thirty-One: #Throwback Thursday
Week Thirty-Two: This Is My City
Week Thirty-Three: Well Someone Has To Say It
Week Thirty -Four: First World Problems
Week Thirty-Five: QOTW
Week Thirty-Six: Songs That Speak To Me
Week Thirty-Seven: Listers Gotta List
Week Thirty-Eight: 3 Life Lessons
Week Thirty-Nine: Adulting 101
Week Forty: Guilty Pleasures
Week Forty-One: Organize Me
Week Forty-Two: Favorite Bloggers
Week Forty-Three: Top 5 Pet Peeves
Week Forty-Four: Favorite Online Shops
Week Forty-Five: Top Pinterest Finds
Week Forty-Six: My Hero(s)
Week Forty-Seven: What’s In My Purse
Week Forty-Eight: 5 Years From Now
Week Forty-Nine: Make Me Up
Week Fifty: A Review
Week Fifty-One: Inspiration For The Soul
Week Fifty-Two: Goals For Next Year
And there we have it. A long list and I’ll have other daily posts too so stop back frequently. Better yet…
Follow me!



Photo Courtesy of Pixabay



In the famous words of Captain Marvel, “SHAZAM!” I had an epiphany in about 2.2 seconds looking at my visitors and followers on all 3 of my blogs. The two I really looked hard at was this one and Off My Rocker. Truth be told I almost deleted this blog. Thinking that Off My Rocker was more personally me. The thing is between the followers, views, visitors this blog has a lot more activity with all of you. I giggled with my head shaking because I started doing DAILY PROMPT on OMR instead of this one. I’m not quite sure why it wasn’t getting the activity that this one does even without the Daily Prompt on this particular blog.

It’s almost as if… And I might be grasping at straws here that the one major difference is just in the fact that this blog has it’s own domain rather than the wordpress.com url. I am tempted to bring all those posts here and deleting that blog. My main concern about doing that is what IF that is a total waste of time?

I really need to figure this out. I’m stretching myself too far trying to keep up with three blogs. I definitely want to keep my writing blog and I don’t want to waste the money I spent for a year on a domain name. I’m really tempted to find out how much it will cost for a year on blue host and have my own site. I love WordPress so will use that on my site when I do get it. It’s not an if, it’s a matter of when.

So I will be back with added posts from OMR and continue posting here until I get Blue Host.

Hope you’ve had a Merry Christmas, and I wish you a Happy New Year. I’m hoping to post before the new year but you know how holidays can be 😉



A You Moment


Is being cozy a frame of mind? In a way I believe it is. But I’ve found that to get into that frame of mind, I personally have to have the right surrounding, drink, clothes and yes that beloved comforter. I don’t have a fireplace, or a recliner to put my feet up. However my cozy involves my leggings, a giant t-shirt, a cup of hot coffee or cocoa (with marshmallows and whipped topping), a good book, movie, laptop or curled up in my husbands arms listening to his breathing and feeling his heartbeat.
That last thing is the most soothing part of my day. Although I also cuddle with our furbaby Tux too.
Cozy can be whenever you need to relax. Where ever you are. What ever you decide to do (or not to do). Cooking comfort foods brings a cozy aura into the house, or the smell of a scented candle. Soft music playing in the background. The purr of a content kitty.
I spend a lot of my time being cozy and I don’t go out in the winter much unless I absolutely have to.
So get into your pajamas, sweatpants, leggings or yoga pants. Whatever you wear to be comfortable and content. Grab that coffee, tea or cocoa, a good book or your laptop. Turn on the music or find a good movie. Curl up under that comforter, soft fuzzy throw blanket and cozy up for a very relaxing, content and much needed you time!


Confessed Sins



Everyone has a skeleton or two in the closet. Some have more than others. Most are negative in one way or another. I have had enough negativity for one year. So lets get it off my chest. I have two things to confess.
I have not made any New Year Resolutions because within the first five days they go out the window, down the drain or into the trash bin. What I have done is made 2018 Goals.
I am a Baptist and although I go through the motions and make it to church every Sunday unless I’m really sick, I tend to leave most of everything Godly at church. Don’t get me wrong. I do have God in my life everyday. But my sins are many that I can’t say I live my example. I don’t. I don’t pray everyday, I cuss like a sailor, I don’t say prayers before meals, I lose my temper and lash out, I use the Lord’s name in vain and I don’t do daily devotionals or write in my prayer journal.
My goals for 2018 turn my confessed sins into a work of progress. As well as quitting smoking, give up sugar and eat low carb foods. Making healthy living decisions on a daily basis. I also have made the goal to practice Christian Life on a daily basis. To put God first.
I also have to confess that I have hateful and spiteful thoughts regarding my neighbors. I have no patience, I don’t understand their reasoning for doing the things they do and I don’t lend a hand or ear to any of them except for one person in the building.
I’ve known this old man since 2009 and he is one of the town drunks who was living on the streets. He is the sweetest old man I know and people are always taking advantage of his drunkenness. When going through my mother’s belongings, my husband and I realized we didn’t have room for a lot of her furniture. We ended up giving him a bed, a loveseat, and a couch. I have a box of curtains and a new pillow to give him as well. Favoritism? Maybe. He deserves much more than he gets from most of the people who know him.
But by everyone else’s standards I am known as (I’m using plain, blunt wording I’ve heard them use), The Royal Bitch Downstairs.
Another thing to confess? Yes. I am a R.B. and I don’t care if that’s what they say about me. And yes it bothers me to feel this way.



On The 7th Day of Christmas


Photo Courtesy of Pixabay



Merry Christmas!
I hope everyone who celebrated this amazing day had a special time with family and/or friends. And found wonderful and surprising goodies under the tree and that everyone stayed warm and safe.
On the seventh day of Christmas I’m taking a trip down memory lane. A peek into the past. Christmas for me was acts of tradition that seriously haven’t taken place since 1987. I’ve had a lot of influences the past few weeks for reminiscing and getting completely nostalgic. I’d like to share a typical Christmas Day with you from my childhood.

I would wake up at 5:00 am on the dot every Christmas morning. My parents still asleep until 6:45 am and I was not allowed to touch anything under the tree. But I was allowed to take my stocking down off the wall and bring it to my room and occupy myself until I heard Mom in the kitchen rattling pots and pans.
My stocking was always overstuffed with an apple, orange, box of Life Savors, fruit flavored lip gloss and then there were random things that were always different each year. This particular year Santa filled my stocking with an assortment of colored pens, erasers, pencils, Hershey Kisses, and last but not least a heart locket, empty of pictures of course.
I occupied myself with putting my locket on. Proceeded to try on the different flavors of lip gloss. Mind you when I was finished my lips were so shiny Santa could have found my house in a blizzard had I been wearing the stuff and shining a light on my face while standing on the roof. A burst of fruit bowl on my face. Then the pencils and colored pens caught my attention. I sat for almost forty-five minutes writing, drawing random flowers and coloring them in. At which point I heard the gurgle of the coffee maker and only smelling the aroma of cherry mixed with grape and strawberry. I tiptoed to my door and looked down the hall. Mom was standing at the counter with two coffee cups in her hand.
I stuffed everything back into the stocking and ran out to the living room cradling the stocking and contents like it was a treasure I was afraid of dropping. I sat on the floor under the tree and patiently waited. And waited. And waited.
My dad finally came out of the bathroom with his coffee in hand and sat down in his chair. Mom had busied herself with getting breakfast ready and sat down on the couch.
“Okay Jeannie.” Dad would say as he did every year. I noticed as I turned to grab the nearest gift that Santa not only drank the milk, ate the cookies but also had a Highball (Jack Daniels & Coke on Ice) before he jumped back on the sleigh. I was a bit miffed that Santa would drink while on the route to delivering presents. I shook my head and told myself to ask my dad later and send a note to Santa telling him not to drink and drive his sleigh. What would happen if he got drunk and forgot what he was supposed to be doing? Or had a sleigh accident?
First present was for my dad. Tools of course. As was all but the presents I got him which every year were socks, underwear, a new wallet and a couple of workshirts. Funny I don’t remember the workshirts being in our cart when Mom and I went shopping for Dad. Strange.
Second present was for Mom. New pots and pans. The rest of her gifts were random things for the house that more than likely my dad would use for cooking, or taking apart when he realized mom didn’t vacuum (yes she got a new vacuum this particular year), and he needed parts from it to use for a project he was working on later during the new year.
Third present was for me. Crayons. I searched the pile for the coloring books. The two things Santa brought me every year. The usual school outfit or two, slippers, a new nightgown, a baby doll, and a large box in the back against the wall happened to be the one item I had begged Santa for. Heidi the walking doll! I spent the entire day playing with her trying to make her walk.
We hadn’t had a grand Christmas this particular year. Money was a bit tight but that one item. The walking doll was what made my Christmas. Well not really. What made it was our breakfast.
We cleaned up the wrapping paper into a giant black garbage back, stacked our presents on the couch and went to the kitchen. We ate Omelettes, toast, bacon, homefries, and while my parents had coffee I had chocolate milk.
After breakfast I sat in the living room coloring with my walking doll sitting next to me. When bored and noticed that it was snowing I ran to put on my snowsuit, boots, scarf and mittens and opened the door. Our black lab Hawkeye came running and he and I spent the entire day making paths in four feet of snow, sledding (He’d pull me up the hill, I would put him in front of me in the sled to slide down the hill. Finally cold, legs sore and wanting to curl up in front of the wood stove while my mom cooked dinner, we headed back for the house.
Our dinner a couple of hours later was a feast. Garden Salad, Turkey, Stuffing (homemade), Squash, Potatoes, Green Beans, and half a dozen other vegetables, sweet potatoes too! There was always the ever present and much desired cranberry sauce, and my dad sitting at the table with my mom’s Cocketeils on his shoulder.
We would eat and after my dad would go to his chair and watch television while my mom and I cleaned up and did dishes.
I would go to my room and play while mom stuck the pie in the oven and curl up on the couch. With my dad napping, mom cutting the pie, I would curl up on the floor with a blanket, pillow, coloring books, and crayons waiting for my portion of the homemade apple pie with a slice of zucchini bread and butter on the side. Then Mom would pass out on the couch, dad still in his chair and I’d fall asleep with a crayon in my hand. A short nap. I’d be woken up by the dog. He wanted out and I wanted to be outside in the snow until dark started to fall. Mom would be crocheting, and Dad in his office working on his radio equipment.
Hawkeye and I would run and play in the snow until too tired to move, come trudging in the house to find I had a cup of hot cocoa on the table waiting for me. Then we would be off to bed. I would sleep this night with all my Christmas gifts on my bed, the dog at the side of my bed and the sound of snow falling on our aluminum covered roof.