Wow, I am back again and I can see that you are too!  So how’s your week going?  Hopefully, it’s not been one of those “grrrrrr” type of weeks that makes you wish it was the weekend already.  I’ve had a few of those in my day but that’s all apart of life, isn’t it?   I just try to keep my eye on the big picture (that being God!) and take comfort in knowing He is with me every step of the way. 
 
So how’s my week going?  Well, it’s been rather perplexing and I’ve been kind of wondering where I will be in my life this time next year.  Yes, that’s some semi-deep thinking for a Thursday but I am rather curious (like George!).  So much so that I even voiced this question aloud to my lunch companions in between munching on Imo’s newest creation known only as “Provel Bites”.   Oh, I wish you could have been there when I threw one of these deelish little bites at one of my Erics (there are two).  Why he was as giddy as a kid in a candy store as he gobbled up that melty-goodness!  Ah, my Eric could talk for hours about the merits of Provel cheese.  That boy sure does love cheese. 
 
Anyway, where was I?  Ah, yes, I was wondering (or is it more like pondering?) about my life path.  Why is this subject on my brain?  Well, there’s been a lot going on (some good, some not-so-good) these last few weeks that I can help but wonder what God is planning for me.  I guess it all kind of hit home today when one of my friend/co-worker delivered the news (and she started with the phrase “I know Angi doesn’t do well with change…” so I knew I should sit down) that she had tendered her resignation yesterday.  It is such a hard thing to be happy and sad for a friend all at the same time.  She has been such a good friend and the thought of her not being just down the hall is making me mist up right now.  But I think God moves people in and out of our lives all the time (lately it’s been like a revolving door!) to help move us in the direction He needs us to be.  It’s all apart of His will for us to make us the person He wants us to be. 
 
Sometimes people are there for only a brief moment and some are there for a lifetime.  Some make us laugh, while others make us cry.  Some are there to help us grow in our walk with God, while others are there to show us where we should not tread.  Some show us the true meaning of love, while others hurt us so deeply we pray for God’s comfort.  Some treat us with respect, while others show no regard whatsoever to our feelings.  Some give us wings so we can fly, while others become stumbling blocks that keep us from fully experiencing God.  I always think about that old adage that people enter our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime, but it’s only through time and reflection do we even start to understand God’s meaning for it. 
 
I guess what I’m trying to say is that person’s presence in your life can turn out to be a positive or a negative.  You just never know what you will get (why am I hearing Forrest Gump in my head), but how you chose to handle their time is the true lesson.  Some people let others hobble them, but it’s learning (and growing) from the experience that keeps us moving forward towards Him. 
 
Oh, I wish I had all the answers now (and a time machine like McFly’s DeLorean), but God’s plans is not for me to know just yet.  So I will be patient and trust that God will help me get where I need to be.  And I’m willing to bet He’s got a whole list of people lining up to join me (and you!) on my journey to Him.  You just need to trust Him.
 
Toodles,
Angi 

Okay, here it is all plain and simple.  It is sometimes hard (sometimes really, really hard) to do God’s will.  I’m not going to sugarcoat the truth (like that breakfast cereal that requires you to pull your kids off the ceiling after they eat it) or make it out to be like doing His will is always easy (like going to Disneyland every day of your life).  Nope, I’m going to be straight up with you and let you know from firsthand experience (that’s all I can offer) that it isn’t always a bed of blessings.  Yes, there will be blessings (alright!) when you follow His path for your life, but actually doing His will also involve struggle, sacrifice, denial, trials, hurt and disappointment (bummer!).  And believe me when I say it is truly worth the cost, but I’ll save that incredible truth for another time.     

So I’ll be the first to admit that it’s downright hard letting go of what I want to do and letting Him guide my path.  I am rather independent, headstrong and quite stubborn at times (does the word “mule’ strike a bell?)  And, yes, it’s a whole lot easier to do what I want to do (who doesn’t want that, huh??), but it’s through doing His will for me that I can grow and flourish.  It is stated in Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”.  Isn’t it truly amazing God loves us so much that He wants (yes, wants!) to bless us and He already has a plan for us.  All He asks us is to allow Him to work in our lives through a relationship with Him.

What kind of relationship, you ask?  Well, I can akin the relationship to that of a parent and a child.  As children (wee ones!) we want what we want when we want it and hell hath no fury as a child denied (you know what I’m talking about!).  Why I remember wanting to stay up late on a school night one time to watch a movie on television and I just couldn’t understand why dad had said no (denied!)  Now I am quite sure I threw a lovely tantrum, stomped all the way to my room (hitting each step extra hard on the way up) and probably slammed my door for good measure all because I hadn’t gotten my way (will).  But as children we are not expected to understand everything just yet.  In 1 Corinthians 13:11 it is eloquently stated, “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”    

Now as an adult (and I use that term quite loosely) I now know that dad denied me what I wanted because he knew the consequences.  He loved me so much that he said no because he knew that my own will would hinder me.  And he was right.  How many times as a grownup have I stayed up way past my bedtime (as there was no one now to deny me) and reaped the wonderful reward of dragging through a workday tired and cranky?  Yes, Cranky Angi is not quite a bundle of joy to be around if you have ever had the displeasure of running into her (though she’s nothing compared to Work Angi!) 

Yes, I know that’s a very simple analogy but it does get the point across, right?  God loves us and if we want to prosper in our life’s journey we have trust His will for us over our own.  Yes, it’s hard as even right now I am struggling in regard to doing His will in my life, but I know if I go to Him and ask for His help He will guide me.  He knows me completely and without exception.  He knows exactly what I need (you too!) and like it says in Psalm 37:4 “Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.”  That’s His faithful promise to us.

So please take delight in the Lord today and ask Him in your prayers that His will to be done in your life.  And, don’t worry about the “hard” part as He will get your through it.

Cheers,

Angi

"I'm going to pray you through it." Yep, you read that correctly and I meant it. This particular (peculiar?) phrase has been bouncing around my head the last few days (like a red rubber ball!) and it's such a simple concept but one that holds great promise.

Now don't get me wrong as I'm not promising that a person's troubles will be "magically" fixed overnight (ala David Copperfield) just because I prayed for someone (though all things are possible with God as stated in Matthew 19:26!). But rather I'm offering to be there in prayer to help someone overcome whatever trials they might be going through whether big or small. I'm not writing this to talk about the incredible power of prayer (as that's a whole blog in itself!), but rather the simple and loving act of praying for others.

So now you're probably wondering why should you pray for others. Well, God specifically asks us to love our neighbors. He didn't say "like" or "tolerate" them every once in awhile if the mood strikes you. Nope, he said to love them. Plain and simple. Yes, I know that can be quite hard at times (especially with that nasty co-worker who makes Jaws look like friendly guppy), but loving and praying for others is a reflection of our love and devotion to God. Can you even begin to imagine what this world would be like if everyone practiced a little compassion and prayer when it came to others? Why there would be almost nothing we couldn't get through when trials reared their ugly, misshapen heads!

And isn't that what God promises each of us? (Yes, I'm talking to you!)  He never promised that our lives would be easy (and believe me I know first hand about that!), but He did promise to help get us through it all. Wow, what a truly amazing love He has for each and every one of us! And, yes, you are included in that group! Why? Because He loves you! He had seen every tear you have shed and He knows the exact number of hairs on your head! (Wow, that rhymed! I'm a poet and didn't even know it!)

Now I'm not going to say praying for others is easy (goodness knows I doubt I will be asked after one particular weepy one at Thanksgiving!) but I do believe that prayer is a vital part of our relationship with God as well as others. I'm not talking about big, elaborate prayers with thee's, thou's and verbatim quotes from the Bible as I'm pretty sure God isn't all about fancy words and memorization. Nope, He just wants you to come to Him in prayer (please read Philippians 4:6-7 if you don't believe me). Just think of it like a great conversation with an old friend who has known you for you whole life (because He has, you know!).

So start small if you are new to prayer like asking Him to please comfort friend or heal a sick co-worker or surround a grieving family. The key is just talk to Him. And there is amazing joy when you pray for others (trust me on this!). It's the only gift I now that truly is one size fits all!

May God pour out His blessings on you, my dear friends!

So yesterday I received a text message as I was wandering (meandering) aimlessly around Best Buy that someone (a friend of a friend…FOAF from here on out) has nicknamed me “normal”. Yep, you read that correctly. Normal. Not nice. Not interesting. Not funny. Not even funny-looking. Nope, normal. Normal. Normal, normal, normal. Normal? Normal! (Not even an exclamation point can make that word sound even remotely exciting.) Hmm, I wonder if that should be capitalized like Queen of Normal.

Anyway, what’s funny about this nickname is I’m now considered the proverbial normal one in relation to the other company my friend must keep. (So I guess in-depth conversations about badgers, 3-legged cats, goats, Easy Bake Ovens and George Harrison makes some people uncomfortable.) And what’s even funnier is this FOAF was meeting me for the VERY first time during a BRIEF encounter (no more than 2 minutes tops!) in parking lot where we spent more time chattering our teeth and clutching our coats tight (brrrr!) than actually conversing with each other. Not not mention I had shopping for Christmas sweaters for the dogs on the brain.

So basically in less time than it takes to order and pay for a Subway sandwich I was deemed “normal”. Hmm, I am pretty sure that my family, friends, co-workers, acquaintances (not to mention store clerks, random people on the street, circus clowns and 9 out of 10 dentists) might just disagree with that quick assessment.

So what exactly is normal? Merriam-Webster (is that a man or woman?) defines normal as “according with, constituting, or not deviating from a norm, rule, or principle. They also say “conforming to a type, standard, or regular pattern”, “occurring naturally” (well, I was hatched!), “of, relating to, or characterized by average intelligence or development” and (my personal favorite!) “free from mental disorder: sane”. Well, it’s good to know I make a “sane” first impression on people! Hey, wait…did that say something about average intelligence?? Why I oughta….

Okay, I know it was “meant” as a compliment but that stinkin’ 6-letter word is still rolling around in my abnormally large head (pronounced by the voices in my head as “heed” thanks to the movie “I Married An Ax Murderer”). I’m mean really what self-respecting artist (and I use that term loosely) with any ounce of creativity (more loosely) wants to be called “normal”?

Geez, normal is what you pray your medical tests will be. Normal is what you hope your daily “movement” is (yes, I went there.) Normal is what you wish your work day will be (unless of course your job consists of doing things that are absolutely terrifying like explosives or proctology exams). Normal is for those who consciously color inside the lines (bah!). Normal is for people who have never even considered running with scissors (double bah!). Normal is…well, normal is boring (bah to infinity!). It makes me sound like I’m just like everyone else in this world. Do you want to be like everyone else?

Anyway, there’s really point or conclusion to this silly rant because that would be by all definitions, well, normal. And I’m not. So there. 😛

Holy cow, I have totally managed to do it again!  I am truly sorry as I had every intention to tell you about my recent adventures yesterday (I even started it!) and somehow between work, guitar lessons, dogzilla costumes (muhahahaha!) and harvesting my crops (my name is Angi and I’m addicted to Farmville) the day just seemed to slip through my fingers like sand through an hourglass (and such is the days of our lives).  Man, I don’t know about your lives but mine moves at the speed of light and I seriously wonder at times if I remembered to put on clean underwear and turn off the iron.

Anyway, I will begin today by asking you to imagine a sea of RVs as far as the eye can see.  Yes, there are campers to the left of me, pop-ups to the right and here I am stuck in the middle with you (uh, isn’t that a song?).  So how did we come to be plopped down in this plethora of portable homes.  Well, as luck might have it we scored some last minute primo tickets (thanks to Heidi) to the “World Series” of NASCAR races (aka: “The Bristol Night Race”).  This is not just a race, but rather THE race that anyone who worships the church of NASCAR must attend at least once in their life.

Now, for those of you who are non-NASCAR savvy (if there is even such a thing) this coveted race basically comprises of 43 race cars going round and round at ungodly speeds, swapping paint with each other (think extreme road rage) in a bowl-shaped (think cereal) arena as 160,000+  fans scream at the top of their lungs over the deafening roar for their favorite driver to win.  It’s an awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping sight to behold.

Why even in the pre-race ceremony was awesome as there were classic cars, fireworks, F-18 fighter jets flying over, a teary-eyed tribute to our armed forces and a Guinness World Record attempt at the largest karaoke sing-along (to none other than Garth Brook’s “Friends In Low Places”).  Why I even saw a giant shopping cart that was as big as a monster truck out on the track!

And that’s just the main event.  For prior to the race, there’s all the pre-race activities that are just as equally amazing (crazy).  Why do I say this?  Well, before you get to the race you have to navigate your way through a carnival-like atmosphere with a variety of food, merchandise trailers (offering everything from hats to pajamas to dog collars for your favorite driver), interactive exhibits, driver appearances (if you are lucky enough to get a coveted ticket) and oodles of free marketing-related gifts of every shape and size – including (and I’m not joking) Extenze which markets itself as “Growing One Member At A Time” (yes, this is sadly a male enhancement product).

Why I actually have a special bag in my NASCAR kit (which I’m too embarrassed to even discuss) just to drag home all the free stuff (crap) they give away at the track. There were drink cozies, t-shirts, chewing tobacco (to just enhance that redneck stereotype), hats, blueberry muffin-shaped timers (got two!), bottles of barbeque sauce, Sharpie markers and Hamburger Helper foam hands just to name a few of the unique freebies floating around.  You have truly got to wonder who comes up with this stuff and then decides to give it to those crazy NASCAR folk.  And don’t even get me started on who thought giving people a Sharpie marker was a good idea.  Holy cow!

Oh, and just when you thought you had it all they add national television into the mix.  Yep, Speed TV broadcasts all of it’s pre-race programs live from the track with those fun-loving NASCAR fans performing in a generous supporting role.  It’s quite the sight to behold when you consider the average NASCAR fan spends most of the race weekend in a drunken stupor (probably because Dale Jr. never wins anything and Kyle Busch does!).

And in case you were wondering how the title relates to this blog, well, my sister and I (not even remotely drunk) were interviewed by Speed TV reporter Rutledge Wood about our preferences on what makes for good barbeque (like we’re meat experts or something?).  Sadly, my interview ended up on the virtual cutting room floor, but Heather and Sew-Sew (the internationally known traveling bear) looked absolutely fabulous on national television in the 5 seconds we got to see them!

Yes, our journey to Bristol, Tennessee (or “Thunder Valley” as the surrounding neighbors likes to call it for obvious reasons) was an incredible and rather delightful experience.  The two hour wait to leave the parking lot, on the other hand, was a whole other matter.  But it’s the price you pay and it was well worth it.

Well, I am rather worn out and you will just have to come back another day for another adventure story.  And just to tempt you, let’s just say it involves zombies, mayhem and another world record attempt!

Toodles,

Angi

Well, I guess you’ve been kind of wondering (pondering) where I have been for the last two months (okay, more like two and half but who’s counting?). Huh? What do you mean you didn’t even notice I was gone? Geez, what kind of faithful reader are you? Where’s the love? Where’s the loyalty? Where’s the undying devotion to hang on my every blogged word and chuckle over it for days??  What do you mean I’m not that funny? Oh, I see how it is. A blogger goes quiet for a few months and you just move on to bigger and better blogs. (*sniff*) Didn’t I make you smile? Didn’t I make you chuckle? Didn’t I make you shake you head in complete bewilderment? Haven’t I always been there for you in the good times and the bad? (Why am I suddenly hearing my grandma’s voice doing this blog?) 

What was that? You are deeply and eternally sorry for overlooking my absence and promise to never, ever do it again? You will even pinky-promise to that?? Well, I guess I will accept your apology this time but don’t think for one second I’m going to forget what you said about me not being funny. (And remind me to never rely on you if something really large happens to fall on me and I’m being ravaged to death by wild dogs.  Geez, Louise.)

So do you truly want to know (just nod your head yes) where have I been all this time? Well, I wish I could say I had spent the last two months (yeah-yeah, two and a half) sailing the high seas to exotic places with names such as Bora Bora and Cabo Wabo (what do you mean Cabo Wabo isn’t a real place?).

But that would be exaggerating (lying) and my sister (my moral compass) would tell me I’m going to the really bad place (let’s just say it’s hotter than St. Louis in August) for doing so (like you would believe me anyway).

So the truth is that I’ve been here, there and everywhere with a little of time-traveling thrown in for good measure.

So have I piqued your interest yet?  No?  Well, then I guess you wouldn’t be interested in  crazy adventures involving pirates, crashes, zombies, possessed pumpkins, national television, Rutledge Wood and 160,000+ screaming rednecks.  

What?  You might be a little interested now?  Well, I’m just too tired now to go on.  Plus, I’ve got real work to do.  So run along now and maybe if you come back tomorrow I will tell you more.   ;-P

Toodles,

Angi

Yep, I am absolutely (and totally) in love with gadgets. There is something so enamoring about those tiny pieces of electronic heaven that are created by really, really smart people for the sole reason of making my life a little more convenient and a lot more interesting.

I mean how can you NOT love a gadget that has the capability to let you converse with someone over 4,000 miles away, surf the web, make virtual toast, read a novel, take photos, write a blog, watch a movie, set your DVR, listen to your favorite song, watch videos on YouTube, calculate your daily caloric intake, see what time it is in Bangkok, play a game of Bejeweled, check the weather forecast for Dublin, shop on Amazon, bid on eBay, learn Gaelic and tell you where you located (longitudely and laterally) at the mere touch of a button.

And in case your brain hasn’t had enough Starbucks today, I am trying to tell you (and the world!) that I am completely and totally in love with my iPhone. Why if it was legal in this country to marry electronics, we would be in Vegas right now in the Elvis’ chapel of love (hubba, hubba!) getting hitched for a lifetime of electronic bliss. Okay, that may be a little over the top (for a simple ceremony here with family and friends would be okay as well) but I am deeply in love with my iPhone.

But there’s more to this torrid story (and I’m seriously blushing now) as this isn’t the first time I’ve fallen for a modern-day marvel. Nope, there has been a long line of cutting-edge gadgets that have caught my eye at the local Best Buy and have followed me home. There was the tiny pager who was supposed to limit my cell phone usage (hah!), the stylish walkie-talkie (in Big Bird yellow, no less) who gave me hours of communicating pleasure and how could I not mention the four cell phones (who ever said size doesn’t matter!) that loyally stood by me for each of my cell phone terms.

There was the rowdy Nintendo Game Boys (original and in living color) who endured my endless hours of Tetris playing, the snappy digital cameras that captured so many happy moments in my life, the battered T-Mobile Sidekick with it’s edgy E network, the innovative scanner who gives me the inside track at NASCAR races, the cute iPod Nanos who still provide the soundtrack for my life, the reliable Garmin GPS that has saved my bee-hind on more occasions than I can count (well, except for that one night in Virginia) and the adorable Flip Mino camcorder who allows me to film my life on-the-go (and in a go-cart) if the whim should overcome me.

And I would be amiss if I didn’t mention the brave Sony Handi-Cam who not only endured a night of filming at the local dirt track (not a good idea in retrospect), but also eleven days trekking (and filming) across England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales. Yes, that little camcorder is quite heroic and his broken lens cover attests to his fortitude in the face of adversity.

Ah, so many good memories and I cannot help now but wonder if iPhone and I will live happily ever after. I mean it’s not going to be easy as he’s only a 3G in a 3GS world. But we’ve got love and that’s all that matters, right? Hey, is that a Best Buy over there?

Toodles,
Angi

We had just left the infield parking lot after a day enjoying the AllState 400 at the Brickyard (held at the legendary Indianapolis Motor Speedway) and like any race attended by over 180,000 fans (holy cow, Batman!) the local police had all vehicles going outward with no traffic being allowed to come into the general area.  Now, I applaud the traffic gurus who came up with this ingenious idea for getting numerous people out of IMS in a reasonable amount of time, but there’s also an unhappy smile on my face for this practice creates confusion (frustration, irritation and a rather cross version of Angi) for anyone who doesn’t call Indianapolis area as home.   

So there we were being funneled (forced!) out in a direction that we eventually realized was completely opposite (go back!) from where our motel was located (oh, for the love of Bob why??) and I had to smack myself for in my state exhaustion (a direct result of inhaling racing fuel exhaust fumes in the heat for close to 4 hours) I had stupidly left my Garmin GPS unit in the trunk of the car for safekeeping (*smack*). 

Well, you can only imagine my response (imagine fits of uncontrolled laughter bordering on near-hysteria) as it dawned on me that we were essentially navigating completely blind (*smack*), that we were headed into a slightly “scary” area (why am I suddenly thinking about that scene in National Lampoon’s Vacation where the Griswolds get lost in East St. Louis) and that there was now a guy behind us playing his car’s stereo so freaking loud that my seat is actually vibrating (hey, mister, I’m going deaf up here and my butt feels kind of funny!).  Yes, our prospects were growing dim and I could already see the newspaper headlines about how our remains would be found one day having been ravaged by wild Indianapolis dogs.  Uh, have I mentioned I am a bit of a fatalist?

Anyway, while I may suspect that every headache is possibly a brain tumor I am also a firm believer in that old adage about survival of the fittest (well, except for the fact that the only shape I’m in is round).  But such dire moments can lend to greatness (triumph over adversity!) so I took up the charge by quickly calculating that we had a half bag of Combos, three cans of Diet 7-Up, four sticks of gum and a bag of Cheetos that mom had been gnawing on all day.  Yes, the pickings were a bit slim (especially as I wasn’t touching those Cheetos with a 10 foot pole), but our odds were better than I thought as we could possibly survive maybe an hour or two if my stomach didn’t start rumbling.  We just needed to stay calm. 

So my little sister began slowly rationing out the Combos (it is the official cheese snack of NASCAR, you know!) as I resisted the urge to get out of the car and send Mr.. Loud Music Man into next week (truly how long and one’s rear end vibrate before something needs to be done?)  And just as the last of the Combos were being consumed (oh, no!), a beacon of hope so incredible appeared just on the horizon.  At first, I thought I was dreaming but I soon realized that my eyes were seeing a tiny bit of heaven.  Yes, just up ahead in the plaza on the left was a branch of our favorite St. Louis Mexican dining establishment El Maguey.  Oh, behold the power of margaritas and chicken nachos.  

So we made the unanimous decision to wait out the traffic (as we were now probably hundreds of miles from our motel) by going into El Maguey for some refreshment.  Well, it sounded like a great plan up to the point where we walked inside.  Do you remember that scene in that movie where some unsuspecting travelers walk into an local establishment (was it a restaurant or a bar?) and the music stops suddenly and all eyes are upon those poor travelers? 

Yes, it happened just like that.  Okay, maybe not exactly like that but pretty close.  I mean I guess it could HAVE something to do with the fact that we were sunburned, disheveled and decked out in NASCAR attire (not to mention looking rather kind of desperate).  It’s not like we walked in there drunk, barefoot, wearing a “wifebeater” shirt and smoking a cigarette (though I’m pretty sure I saw a few of those over at the race track).  And I guess that “Welcome, Race Fans” sign outside was meant for someone else and what Mexican place doesn’t serve margaritas on the rocks?  Isn’t that like punishable by death or something?

Anyway, I guess the lesson we learned is that El Maguey in St. Louis don’t always translate to El Maguey in other cities and never leave your Garmin GPS in the trunk of your car when leaving a race. 

And what heck is an “El Maguey” anyway?

Toodles,  
Angi

 

Okay, if there was ever an award given out for “Best Domesticator” (oooo, that sounds rather intimidating!) I highly and seriously doubt I would be up for consideration. In fact, I pretty sure I would be on the proverbial blacklist for my domestication skills are seriously lacking in more ways than one. It’s not that I don’t clean (okay, not often as I should) but rather I’m really bad (worse than bad) at the cleaning process itself. Yes, I’m the girl who has forgotten to put soap in the dishwasher (dumb), mopped herself into a corner (dumber), vacuumed over and annihilated at least three phone cords (dumb times three) and have practically asphyxiated on toxic fumes by putting too many cleaning products into the toilet at once (WTF??). I also believe that Windex can be used to clean anything (and I mean anything), that carpets only need to be vacuumed where furniture is not (this same law applies to dusting), that laundry is done in two piles (lights and darks), that making one’s bed is ONLY required if guests are coming over (family, close friends, repair men, pizza delivery guys and Mormons excluded), that hiding an overflowing mail pile into a Dale Earnhardt Jr. cooler is a viable option (not to mention creative and innovative), that a whole roll of paper towels will clean only one bathroom, that dogs are awesome tools for cleaning up food spills (oops!) and that all cleaning activities will be pre-empted or stopped if anything NASCAR-related is on television. Yes, my future husband is on for one heck of treat when he sees me clean for the first time! Let’s just hope he has a really good sense of humor and is certified in first aid.

Toodles,
Angi

I would say that one of the greatest possessions I had as a child (well, besides my Jordache Jean Barbie and my Breyer horses) was my library card. When I got my first one, it truly was like finding Willy Wonka’s golden ticket as it gave me unlimited access to choose my own adventures. And what I love is that the card didn’t have a bar code or a micro-chip or any of the other technology-advanced hoopla we have nowadays. Nope, it was nothing more than a pre-printed card that the children’s librarian (oh, I can still see her face in my head) would carefully type up with my name and address on a real type writer (click-click-click-ding). It’s sometimes hard to believe that I actually grew up (well, partially at least) in a world where the computer had not yet invaded all aspects of life.

And I can still see the children’s library in my memory as it was so long ago (in a galaxy far, far away) with it’s wide array of colorful picture books standing at attention on wooden shelves with those cute miniature tables everywhere just the perfect size for little readers. In the back (just to the right of that wall), there was a real card catalog with so many drawers in it that you’d lose count if you tried to count them. And there are so many old friends (books) here that I feel like it’s a homecoming of sorts.

So do you want to know my favorite children’s book? Do you think it had a Clifford, a Harold, a Charlotte or a Ramona in it? Do you think it tells where the wild things are and where the sidewalks end? Could it speak of the places I will go or just be a wrinkle in time? Could it tell the story of a secret garden or a little house on the prairie? Is it a tale somewhere over the rainbow or just one of a fourth grade nothing? Well, if you want the truth all of these books captured my heart but if hard pressed (hey, are you sitting on me?) I would say my absolute favorite of all time will always be “The Lorax” by Dr. Seuss. It was teaching me the evils of pollution on our environment before I even knew what such things were or what it could do to our world. Yes, thank goodness for Dr. Seuss and library cards!

Toodles,
Angi