The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis

16 06 2008

I hate long car rides…especially when traveling from Virginia Beach back to Blacksburg…I’ve traveled that trip about, oh I don’t know 50 times…it’s about 5 ½ to 6 hours on the road…I hate it because it seems like a completely wasted 6 hours of life…both ways, so 12 hours…I can’t read in the car because I get horrible motion sick, and anyway, when traveling alone, reading and driving, probably not a great idea…So I find a solution…Books on CD…at first they annoyed me, I really prefer hearing my own voice in my head reading the books, but…I’m discovering some of them aren’t so bad, however, I only listen to the ones that just read the book word for word, no acting or interpretations…I want the whole book, just the way it was written, without anyone messing around with it….so this last weekend when I went back home I “read” three books on the way there and back, and actually finished reading a fourth one…now, instead of having oh 6 or 7 days worth of book reviews back to back…I’m rewinding time a little…June 10th and 11th, I didn’t write…so, I’ve filled in those days with two book reviews the first Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson  and the second Midnight In The Garden of Good And Evil by John Berendt so, please, if you enjoy book reviews, take a few moments to travel back in time and read them…and hopefully by time you are reading this, my Reading List should be updated….hopefully.

 

 

 

When I was a child I read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe…it fascinated me, but I never read any of the other books of the Chronicles of Narnia…J and I watched the movie of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe a few weeks ago, and it resparked in interested of mine into the ser Bies…however, when I went to the book store I was shocked to learn that The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe was not the actually first book in the series, it was The Magician’s Nephew, although written after several of the other books were already published it is the actual first book of the series…in it we discover the origins of the wardrobe and the beginnings of Narnia….the magicians nephew and a female friend are tricked into using magical rings by the magician, and are sent swirling into a magical journey…just as they were sucked into this magical world, you will be to. It’s a fantastic read for children of all ages…I loved it! The whole book made you feel like you were part of that magical world…like you were right there alongside Diggory and Aslan, and the magician and uncle Andrew…and at the same precise time…it reminds you of your own childhood…which, although not void of evil or bad things, was still magical and exciting all the same…I easily give this book 5 stars, as I know it’s already been named a classic that is worthy of the last 50 years as a top seller, but also for many many years to come…it almost makes me want to have children, just so I can share it with them.

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Happy Father’s Day, Mom!

15 06 2008

My father left/was kicked out when I was about 3, my older brother was 7 and my baby brother was 1. I never really got to know my father, but what I did know, I didn’t like. He spent a few of those years in prison, for killing a man. That’s something that almost no one knows outside of our family…my ex-husband never even knew that…it’s something very deep and private…in fact, my mother didn’t even want us to know, she was so ashamed that she’d had children with a man who was capable of taking another man’s life…my father & step-mother are actually the ones who told us…and then we asked my mother about it…I remember after I was told I had this nightmare, that my two brothers and my mom and I were sitting down to dinner, and I was sitting between the table and the wall/window (I was always the skinny one so I always got stuck by the wall) and we were eating and talking and laughing and all of a sudden my father pops up in the window and wraps his arms around my neck and holds a knife to my throat, I woke up screaming…my mom rushed in and hugged me, and kissed my forehead…I was probably 7 or 8…by this age I had realized that my mom wasn’t much into showing emotion…and I had learned how to hide a lot of my emotions…I didn’t cry…and I remember feeling slightly ashamed that I was crying in front of my mom, who I thought was the strongest person in the world, and part of my felt terrified from what I had just dreamed, and part of me felt like the luckiest person on earth for having such a great mom.

 

As a typical teenager girl, my mom and I fought, a lot. But, when I grew up and went away to school & work, and got married & divorced…while I was married, our relationship remained strained…but, she still called every weekend, to see how I was…and now, I’m happy to say she is one of my best friends…

 

My father use to come around about every 2 or 3 years and tried to pretend to be a great father…he took my brother to his baseball game once, and I went a long to watch…and my lil brother never quite felt safe or comfortable around our father…he always wanted me around too, just in case…and I remember our father saying how much gas he’d had to use to pick us up and take us to the game and back home…and having been taught to respect adults, a thought raced to my head, that I didn’t vocalize, now looking back I wished I had…I was probably 12 or 13…I thought, well, Mom does it about 10 times a week, when you consider all 3 kids and all our activities…and never once did I know how much gas it took her…she never complained, even when she was worn down and exhausted…she was always about us kids…so, this father’s day, I want to take a moment to thank all you awesome single mothers…who really are wonderful father’s and deserve to have more than 2 days a year of honor…here are some awesome single mom’s I’ve found by blog reading…take a moment, and stop by there sites, and let ‘em know how awesome they are…I know one day when their kids are older and realize how great their moms are, they let them know…but right now, I’m sure they’d appreciate a little bit of encouragement…so, here they are…in no particular order…

2 Lazy Dogs 

Miss Single Mama

Green Bean Mama

Modern Single Momma

Momma Cum Laude

Single Mom In The City

Memoirs Of A Single Mom

Single Working Mommy

Mommy Pie

QT Mama

Single Mom With A Tot

The Queen Chimes In

TS Quest

P.S. If I forgot anyone, or you know of any great single mother’s who blog out there…please leave me a comment with their url so I can add them, also, if you find a link that doesn’t work, let me know…I’m not too great with all this html stuff…I tested all of them, but that’s not saying much 😉





Being Thankful For Toilet Paper

9 05 2008

I’m sure you’ve probably heard the saying “You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out of the girl,” or “you can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl”…. there are many variations of this saying, but to an extent, it’s true. No matter where or how you grew up, and no matter what you do to get away from it, part of it stays with you, no matter what.

 

The trailer I grew up in had no running water. We would go to the local laundry mat to wash clothes, and when we were done we’d unload the car with about 30 empty milk jugs and we’d fill them up in the sink, and carry them back out to the car so we could take them home and have water for the next week.

 

We had a neighbor who lived up on a hill that looked down on our trailer, and every once in a while she’d have on of those “Christian” moments, and would want to help us. So, she’d let us use her outside water hookup to fill up the milk jugs and we’d carry them two at a time back to our trailer, it was about a ¼ a mile walk, and the drive way from her house to ours ran perallel to the main highway and I was so embarrassed, I just knew all my friends from school would be going up or down the road, and wouldn’t want to be friends with me anymore.

 

We use to take sponge baths in the bathroom. It was a treat anytime we stayed at a friend’s house and actually got to take a real shower.

 

A lot of times we could afford the most basic of things. One of the things we sometimes did not have was toilet paper. My mom worked at the college, and therefore got the newspaper for free. She’d bring it home every night, and that’s what we used for toilet paper. Since there wasn’t running water, we only flushed the toilet once a week. The bathroom always smelled of feces. We’d use the newspaper to wipe ourselves, and then put it in the trashcan, and close the toilet lid. Then every week, we’d fill up the toilet tank in order to flush it.

 

I haven’t had to use newspaper as toilet paper in, 6 years, yet sometimes I find myself reaching toward the trashcan thinking I still can’t put paper in the toilet. 

 

Sometimes it’s the simplest, most basic things in life that, make you remember where you came from.





Hanging on to The Good Times instead of the Bad

4 05 2008

Do you ever wonder why we are so quick to share & take time to ponder the bad stuff, but the good stuff we let slip away so quickly?

 

I’ve had multiple failed attempts at keeping journals over the years….I do it for about the first month or so…when things are rough and I just need to get it all out…but then, when life returns back to normal, when the good stuff happens, I can of forget about writing…kind of sad, because there are so many great things that have happened in my life and the only journal entries I have are about the bad ones…So, here’s a look back at all the good stuff in life…the stuff to remember when life gets you down…stuff to be thankful for…

 

·        First kisses.

·        That first time he tries to hold your hand, and he’s as nervous as you, and he’s not sure if you’ll hold his hand or smack him…and your just thinking, would you hurry up and do it already!!

·        Driving in the car with the windows down, the wind blowing your hair back, and singing to the corny oldies on the radio at the top of your lungs.

·        Finding unexpected treasures on the clearance aisle.

·        Working your butt off, and at the end of the day sitting back with a cold drink, appreciating how damn good it looks.

·        Mornings on the porch with just a cup of coffee, the birds and squirrels…that perfect patch of time before the rest of the human world emerge.

·        An unexpected song on the radio that takes you back…

·        Giving the old neighbors something to talk about.

·        Being lucky enough to feel like you belong to two families.

·        Spring showers that linger only long enough to water the flowers (so you don’t have to).

·        Coming home from a long trip, and realizing how great you have it.

·        Old couples (are they not the cutest??)

·        A good piece of chocolate.

·        Going to run down old-timey stores for hand-dipped orange-pineapple ice cream cones. (In the convenience store we always went to when I was growing up, they still know my name.)

·        Never really being able to leave home.

·        Cleaning out the attic and coming across a box you’d forgot about years ago, and realizing it’s full of childhood treasures…getting to rediscover your childhood all over again.

·        That last gentle kiss after lovemaking…the one that makes you feel like in that one moment before you fall to sleep…the whole world is right.

·        Walking on the sidewalk on a crisp fall morning and hearing the crackling of fallen leaves below your feet and secretly wishing you could blow off work and make a big pile of them to jump in…

·        You’re never too big to be a Toys R Us kid.

·        Philadelphia cream cheese…accept no imitations.

·        That time when your flowers are just starting to bud and you just want to scream at them to hurry up and bloom already, but they make you wait…just because they can.

·        Sunrises.

·        Sitting down with an elderly person, and getting to relive their childhood…. (My great-grandmother, who was a very gentle person from my understanding, ran off my grandmother’s uncle once with a shotgun because he touched my grandmother inappropriately…the things you learn by shutting up and listening.)

·        Getting to take a nap on Sunday afternoon.

·        Going home to visit, and having your family drive you nuts until you are anxious to get back, but the moment you get back, you miss your family.

·        Being proud of a sibling and wanting to kill them at the same time.

·        Watching the squirrels play in the front yard (they are such interesting little creatures).

·        Waking up every morning and getting to start the rest of your life.





Regrets and Lies

14 04 2008

I’m kind of regretting the intimacy from last night, mainly because I know I can’t take it back. It was almost like, we did that, and now he thinks everything is fine…which it’s not.

 

It’s 7:45 at night, we got off at 5:30, he said he’d be home shortly, that he wasn’t going any where besides home. He called at 6:50 to tell me he was on his way home. We live about 10 minutes from work…I hate when he does that. I don’t care if he goes somewhere else to hang out… just have the common courtesy to call…looks like he’s going to have another cold dinner.

 

I just, I don’t know…I’m regretting last night. He said he wanted to make things work. I’m trying to believe that, but then he does stupid stuff like not call….makes me wonder. But then other moments, he makes me feel like I am the only thing on earth he cares about.

 

I must be giving everyone a very bad view of this relationship. Unfortunately, I started this blog right before all of this happened, otherwise, you’d think we were a great couple. Everyone around us does. Of course, they don’t know everything. They see what they want to see…I guess we all do.

 

I’ve just finally found someone who supports me, and loves me. He encourages my crazy ideas, and helps me however he can. All I have to do is say I need or want something, and it’s mine. He’s the first person to accept me for me…or at least most of me…there’s still a lot he doesn’t know about me…lots I’ve hidden, but it’s because in a way, I’m very much ashamed of what I came from. It varies, there are days I’m proud of everything I’ve accomplished, but then there are days where I’m that 7 year old little girl who’s lieing to her teachers because she doesn’t want them to know that she’s growing up in a home that has no running water. It may not have been an ideal place, but it was home. I never got to really have friends over, or have parties, because I was always worried what would happen if someone found out. I spent so much time hiding our lives, that it’s kind of hard to not. It’s second nature to hide it.

 

A while back, my little brother and I were out to dinner, and he was telling me how he doesn’t mean to lie. He doesn’t want to lie to everyone, but he just can’t stop. That it just comes natural. And he’s right, we spent our entire lives telling people lies, and partially wanting to believe those fantasies ourselves,  that we blurred the line between truth and fiction so much, that we’re not even sure where the line is, much less how to get back over it.