I have no doubt we all know at least one relationship with a nagging woman.  Look up the word nag and you will find nothing positive in the definitions or descriptions; words like anxiety, complaining, faultfinding, annoying, unrelenting, torment are what you’ll find.  Having been in a number of terrible relationships myself, I know the signs of abuse, and nagging is a form of abuse.  Women can be just as guilty of abusing their significant others as men.  In fact, emotional abuse can have far more damaging effects than physical abuse.  Nothing good comes from nagging.  

A good laugh is good for what ails you, even if it's only for that moment that you are laughing. 

A coworker recently gave me a gag gift and convinced me I should bring it in to work to share.  It is a pen shaped like a finger and when you pull on it, it creates sounds similar to flatulence.  I work in a doctors office where outright laughter is usually greeted by a manager's stern glance and a remark about having better things to do with our time.  It's not that they don't want us to be cheerful, but they feel such gathering and laughing leaves the illusion of not caring especially when sick people are awaiting care. Idle chit chat and laughter amongst ourselves is kept to a minimum.  The pen was a different story. 

Recently I had been hearing questions about the lapse in posts on my blog.  One thought perhaps I had writer’s block, another asked if I didn’t have anything passionate to write about.  My little hiatus had little to do with either really, although it would be a whole lot easier to chalk it up to either of these excuses and leave it at that. 

There were a few silver slivers buried within the dark brown and a few more wrinkles then I recalled, but otherwise he didn’t look any different.  As with all such encounters I suppose, it was completely random and unexpected.  I frequent this place often and had never run into him before.  We shared a relationship at one time.  My life was a chaotic mess then. So was his.  Our relationship changed the course of my life.  Now, nearly a decade later it seems like a lifetime has passed yet at the same time only a matter of days.  I must say I am relieved to find that my heart doesn’t race at the sight of him as it used to.  It seems time really does heal old wounds and sore hearts. 

People know I like to write. They are usually shocked to find out that I am nearly as terrible at spelling as I am at math. The fact is that being able to write well doesn’t mean one can spell well, or even that we are good with grammar. Editors are the ones who are good at that stuff. I just like to put my thoughts down on paper. I always have, whether it was writing letters to pen pals, writing in my diary or writing papers for class. Writing for me is about finding peace within myself, not about the proper use of punctuation and sentence structure.

We had one of the children over for dinner a couple of days ago.  He is a young adult now with a job, a car and bills.  As parents we take a certain amount of pride in seeing our older children making their way in the world.  We listen to them talk about their struggles to make ends meet and get along with their coworkers and we smile.  It's not that we like seeing them struggle.  It's that we like watching them become responsible, productive members of society.  Now that they are out in the world on their own, they have a deeper understanding of all those values and lessons we tried so hard to knock into their young minds while they were living in the sheltered world we provided. 

It always starts small; accusations, name calling, raised voices, a shove.  It rarely comes out of the blue without warning.  It's all about low self-esteem and stress.  Sometimes the person who seems most in control is really the person most out of control. 

People in the business know. 

Flood the market now with great deals to bring in the buyers and where are those buyers next year?  

Crush and destroy vehicles that could have been resold and recycled and where does that leave the people who depended on those resold, recycled vehicles?  How will Cash for Clunkers effect my son who is just now becoming old enough to drive, but not old enough to make or borrow enough money to buy an expensive new car?  Used car prices were already sky rocketing before Cash for Clunkers because of the economy.  Now those prices will be well beyond the reach of most low income people because the supply will not match the demand.  Anyone in any type of business understands the correlation between supply and demand and the price of hard-to-find items. Not to mention low-on-cash vehicle owners who normally could find decent used parts for their older cars in "junk yards" are now going to find those used parts even more difficult to find, and more expensive when found.

I did not vote for you. My reason had nothing to do with your skin color. My reason had everything to do with your lack of experience. When you won the office I chose to stand behind you, just as I did at first with George W. (I never voted for him either, by the way). I was full of hope that you would prove me wrong. My first disappointment came Wednesday night when I heard you answer a question that any experienced, good statesman would have known to AVOID AT ALL COSTS. Perhaps in the grand scheme of things most people would say it was a little misstep in an insignificant scenario, that there are bigger things to get upset over. I think the reaction and fall out shows that this is far from insignificant or little. For me, it is a peek into the true character of the man we have all placed our hope and faith in.

Let me start by saying that I am a white woman in my 40's. My boss would say that makes me a little crazy in and of itself. I live in Cow Hampshire (also known as New Hampshire) which doesn't have the minority population that many other states boast. In fact, in my high school 25 years ago, there were 3 black siblings in a school of 500. People might believe that would put me in a position to not speak on the subject of racial issues as it is not something I deal with and face on a daily basis. I say sometimes being on the outside looking in has it's advantages. Besides, I do live in this country and I do love it passionately and that does make me qualified to speak my mind.

I spent Sunday morning pulling weeds from my vegetable garden, the first decent garden I've managed to nurture in a couple of years.  It had been a difficult weekend with bad news, as it turns out, dropping in on us in threes.  Sunday morning for most Christians is usually reserved for communing with our God.  I don't sit in a pew on Sundays.  Were I to be asked about my belief in God, I would stammer and stutter my way through my answer.  It's not that I don't believe, but neither can I say I am faithful.