Life on purpose, day 12

Today, Duck, Tink, Doodlebop and I volunteered with our American Heritage Girls troopWy0316 for the Pink Ribbon walk. The girls have now done three walks with their troop. Service hours are fantastic!

We showed up at 6:30 and met with two other troop members, and helped direct survivors of breast cancer to their breakfast tent. The girls got to do Zumba on the lawn of Wyoming's Supreme Court building, have breakfast(pancakes and bacon for those that could, bacon and yogurt for those of us who can't have gluten), got their faces painted and had balloon bracelets and hats made, and had their picture taken with Senator Barasso.

We came home and made a quick cucumber, tomato, cottage cheese salad and tried to head to our church's retreat center for the annual church picnic, and got stopped and turned back because a tanker truck had turned over on Interstate 80. We ended up on a little adventure, driving down into Colorado, west to Hwy 287 and then north for the back road entrance. A gorgeous drive with a little rain, and we enjoyed the company of church friends and family.

Now Tink and Pickle have gone off to a youth group Red Carpet dance with friends.

Dinner's in the instant pot, a ranch chicken with broccoli, and then we shall cuddle for Star Trek: The Original Series! Pictures for today to show up later!

Resuming the blog

I've stepped away largely from politics, so the better spot to be is here I think.

So much grand adventure to share, but to start, we are embarking on a new, deliberate quest. "Life on purpose".
We will be making and sharing deliberate adventures, grand or mini, for a year. Day one was August 1. I'll share days 1-7 here on Monday!

Catching up into 2016

Life has not been dull.

The Teenaged Cave Dweller decided to present us with a HUGE surprise on Christmas. She gave us an Australian. Yes. It sounds odd.
I now have a phenomenal son-in-law! And yes. we love him. They've been friends for about 10 years, and I told her 6 years ago she was going to marry him. She decided that the distance would be too great to bridge. He came to visit on a tourist visa in June. He's apparently not returning. :D The Frodo grandchild says "Ausssie-Dad is a good dad. he feeds me banana peanut butter toast. And then he is a bad daddy, because he tells me no." I had to bite my tongue.
We are very pleased with her choice.

The Science Nerd Girl has done her SAT'S, scored well, better than she expected and has qualified for a scholarship to the school of her choice. Its within "drive home for the weekend" distance, and she is ecstatic. She will be studying art, specifically computer art, animation and graphics, in the hopes of eventually being a Pixar artist.

We've moved again, to a bigger house, still renting. But we are slowly gaining on land in the country again. I miss the killer chickens and the goats.
I started a cleaning business last spring, just about the time the oil fields went bust, so for a bit, I've done a lot of the financial support. I miss the kids though. I miss being with them all day, every day. Hopefully soon, the darling will be back to a better paying job. He's doing warehouse work, and it's good, just not the best we've seen.

Life is, as always, still beautiful!

Grand and scary adventures

I'm horrible at determining I am going to keep the blog current and then life takes me away. This happens when you have ten munchkins.

Lots of work with Don Juan and his dyslexia. He's determined to beat this. We've started Go Phonics, he does as much Nessy.com as he can, and now we have added the Barton System of Reading and Spelling. It's working. Slowly, he is becoming phonemically aware. That alone is huge. He is writing words phonetically and without having backwards letters. There IS hope for dyslexic kids. the biggest thing I see going well for him is self-confidence. He isn't in the least ashamed of his issue. And he refuses to see it as a disability. That's one thing we discovered at the Susan Barton conference we attended-dyslexics have so many amazing ABILITIES that "normal" people don't. More brain mass, an ability to see solutions in different wants, better memories, literal 3d thinking....he can go far, if we give him the tools. I've always been determined to give my kids the chance to be who they are called by God to be, so he will get those tools, if it kills me.

His biggest delight was in the discovery that he can still be a paleontologist. Dyslexia doesn't have to hold him back from that dream. We were quick to point out famous people that have dyslexia, to build him up. It reached a point of frustrating for him, but we didn't realize that. One day, he blew up at me, which surprised me.He's usually such a mellow kid. He yelled "Mom! STOP! Look, I'm super glad for that Keanu guy, that he got famous and acts in crazy movies.(Keanu Reeves is dyslexic) What I wanna know is DID HE GO TO COLLEGE??" We researched and discovered that he did not go to college. This depressed my son for a time. he wanted to know if anyone with dyslexia had gone to college and become a "dino doctor". I had no answers.

When we went to the Susan Barton conference, it struck me that I should actually search for dyslexic paleontologists. And lo and behold, we found one! Dr. Jack Horner, of the University of Montana! AND...he is the paleontologist who advises on the Jurassic Park movies. Ethan was super excited. We sent Dr. Horner an email that night. The very next morning, we received a reply of encouragement for Ethan from Dr. Horner! New hero, instantly.

Dyslexia is not a death sentence. Find a qualified tutor in the Orton-Gillingham technique. There are several systems out there, from Go Phonics, to the Susan Barton method. Get testing, encourage your child. Support their dreams, and watch them beat it ! It IS possible!

Paging Dr. Duck!

When Pickle had her trip to the emergency room last month for anxiety, it really worried her siblings. Honestly, it terrified all of us.  But it's really emphasized the very heart of two things we as a family are striving for: passion for learning and family unity.

When Pickle was released from the ER and made it home, Duck approached me and asked me if I could teach her how to be a doctor. I was puzzled. She explained she wanted to be a doctor to help her sister get better. My heart melted. She wasn't kidding either. She went to the bookshelf and found the only book she could reach about anatomy-a book about the skeletal system. She made me write down every single bone in the human body and spent days writing them out, asking what it spelled.

A friend loaned us her copy of Apologia's Exploring Creation with Human Anatomy and Physiology and several other books on human anatomy. Child is SERIOUS. Some form of anatomy book goes with her everywhere. We bought the junior notebook ing journal for her and we are working through it slowly.

Yesterday, we made an apple mummy:

 

Two identical apples, peeled

 

Mixed 2/3 cup salt with 1 1/2 cup baking soda

 

Covered ONE apple completely(ended up changing containers because this one was too wide and didn't cover the apple)

 

And now we wait a week.

 

This was an experiment after we read of some of the odd notions ancient societies had about medicine and human anatomy. She really is loving this. And I'm in awe at the love of Christ shining from my kids.

 

Now to go break up the battle between siblings over who gets to play on the xbox next...(because they are, after all, totally normal children) 

 

 

Then why have children?

I'm meeting all kinds of people these days. Don Juan is taking me on a new journey. He was just diagnosed with dyslexia. None of us were really surprised. At nearly 10, he still isn't reading and his ability to decipher phonics shifts as quickly as the sands in the Sahara, from poor to adequate, to poor again and then to excellent. We knew about his apraxia of speech-5 years of therapy has given him a voice. we discovered his brain integration disorder this fall and have taken steps to address it. But he was still struggling with phonics, spelling, and even numbers. His speech clinic tested him and he is over the top dyslexic. Telling him the diagnosis was like watching a thousand pound weight lift off of him. It made me feel wretched for him. Then, spending the money to get him a kindle and several whisper-sync immersion reading audio books, I really felt like a heel. He devoured "The Lightening Thief in 3 days, begged for a Bible, then finished "The Wizard of Oz" in 2 days. he's currently working on "Tom Sawyer" and listening to several Minecraft adventures.

Despite his inability to decode print, he IS a reader. That makes my heart soar.

I had an interesting encounter with a parent though, after discussing homeschooling and dyslexia. MANY parents feel dyslexia is a very solid reason to homeschool-your child isn't put in a box that restricts their strengths. They can utilize their positives to enhance the negative in a homeschool setting. Public schools may hold a math genius back because they aren't a strong reader. I feel that the public schools fail kids with disabilities like this.

I digress. A parent admitted they didn't know too much about homeschooling. Several of us expounded on the positives of it. She came back with "Eh. It doesn't sound like my kind of thing. It seems too inclusive." I assumed she was referring to the socialization argument that many lay out in regard to homeschoolers(like the emergent\cy room assuming with Pickle that she was an isolated homeschooler). I immediately jumped on the bandwagon, listing all the things my kids are involved in. She came back with the notion that she didn't mean isolated, but basically that she didn't agree with the fact that we get to choose what our children learn.

I'm still profoundly befuddled by her words, by her notion that we as parents shouldn't get to choose what our children learn. To me, this thinking is profoundly dangerous. To abdicate our rights and responsibilities as parents? To believe that the public school system-or any institution for that matter-is infallible is the worst mistake one can ever make as a parent.  Yes, teachers are educated. But the current Common Core standards of education and standardized testing controls what any district will teach. Teachers-the good, the bad, the indifferent-have no say in what is taught or excluded. They have no say in the curriculum if their state adopts Common Core. And an educational system that turns rote memorization of basic facts, such as addition or multiplication into a process that takes a child hours to complete is asinine.

We've taken away parental rights in so many arenas, and for some reason, people think it's ok if the government increases their power over our families. We as a nation have accepted the notion that a title or a degree makes them an authority and we should bow to them.

Having the right to educate my children is an amazing privilege and responsibility. Having them around me all day leaves me humbled and full of awe. Yes, I confess, there are days when I am overwhelmed, when they fight all day over the color of the sky. But I know my children and their personalities, emotions, health intimately. It doesn't take much to see when something is off. Who wouldn't want that amazing blessing?

I know to you, it may sound arrogant or snotty, but if you aren't intending to raise your children, why have any? And I don't say that as just a homeschooling mom. I know kids who attend public school that have incredible parents that are involved in every aspect of their lives. They ask questions. They are there to help with science experiments If a portion of the curriculum is unacceptable, they make noise. I have no doubt my public school parent friends are amazing parents. But they also don't expect someone else to raise their child or make all the choices.

Be a parent. Don't let the powers that be do it for you. One day, you may have no voice at all.

Refining

I've blogged about "God never gives you more than you can handle."
The phrase still drives me insane.
I saw one recently that made me shout for joy. It says "God doesn't give us what we can handle. God helps us handle what we are given"
 A thousand times yes! So many times I've just broken down, certain it couldn't take another step, my heart broken in a thousand shattered pieces. And He picked me up, healed my heart and took me to the next grand adventure.

We're there again. Two weeks ago, it looked like another "I just absolutely cannot do this, God!" situation. But He brought us through it rather quickly, thankfully. We have a long road ahead still, but it's not as devastating as it originally appeared.

Initially, it looked like another of my precious babies was going to struggle with mental illness. Anxiety attack led to the emergency room, which led to a medication, which produced hallucinations of a terrifying magnitude, which led to a second emergency room trip, wherein the admitting physicians somehow missed the fact that she'd been given a medication that was known for the hallucinatory side effect in young people, which led to a 12 hour stay in the psychiatric side of the ER. They were talking schizophrenic break.

I sat in the hallway outside the locked ward and cried, huge, racking sobs. It kills me to watch my oldest child wander in this fog called schizoeffective bipolar, to see her son abandoned frequently by the most important person in his life, knowing that his bond to her grows weaker every time she wanders away again. I'm so thankful for the bond he has with his auntie, but shredded that a 17 year old child is a single parent, without even having delivered a child. Three people directly affected by one illness.....not to mention the rest who love and support the former teenaged cave dweller. It impacts us in ways I can't begin to fathom.

So to hear that my Pickle appeared to be suffering the beginning of a journey that seems nightmarish to me was like receiving a death notice, in my mind. Thinking that this already fragile, open, big hearted beautiful girl might be lost in a different fog was more than I could handle. I couldn't even rely on my faith in that moment, because all I wanted to do was scream at God and beat on His chest, and tell Him how much I HATED HIM for allowing these two beautiful, talented, amazing creatures to suffer through this.

It took a bit, but they eventually released her that night to us with an appointment to a pediatric psychiatrist the next morning. An hour of chatting with the psychiatrist was an eye opener. The ER docs decided it was a schizophrenic break because the first set had labeled her as "hyper religious", and "isolated homeschooler". She had been reading her Bible when the panic attack had started. She repeated the story for every person who asked. They had noted that "all she talked about was her Bible". I laughed at the "isolated homeschooler". My gas budget wishes we were more isolated! The psychiatrist figured our we weren't hyper religious by what we watch on tv.....Dr. Who, X-Files, Criminal Minds, CSI, Friends......

It's at this moment, generalized anxiety/ADD affects but not ADD/attention affects, but not ADHD. Ok then. Beating on God's chest gets His attention sometimes.

Or does it?

Her blood work was off too.

Seems that my Pickle's thyroid is in failure. And we had no clue, no need or reason to ever think it should be tested.

With her symptoms, we chose to test her and Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell's thyroid is ok, but she issuper low in Vitamin D(common for celiac patients).

Pickle starts with a pediatric endocrinologist next week.

Turns out.......thyroid issues can manifest as psychosis. Anxiety. Depression. Not JUST weight loss or weight gain.

Already, from sharing this, we've had FIVE, count them, FIVE people with depression issues tell us they are going to have their thyroid tested.

I've begged my oldest to get tested. We shall see.

So, beating on God's chest actually got my attention. And I'd like to share with you. I generally don't take my kids for a lot of doctor appointments- they tend to be super ok healthy. But from now on, this family will be doing an annual bloodworm up, checking all kinds of levels. Because when you already have one autoimmune issue, health troubles can lurk just below the surface.

Oh. And this grand adventure? Duck now wants to be a pediatric psychiatrist to help her sister. And let me tell you what.......
 Child is determined to unschool her way to bring a doctor. She has a stack of books on human anatomy, and is learning to READ while copying anatomy terms.

There is a plan. I just need to trust His process.

It's still terribly difficult watching my oldest wander in her fog, but I'm learning to trust. I used to think my trust was complete, my faith was whole. Seeing now that it can always grow.

Minimalism: how much stuff?

I just read a post about minimalism....how little or how much. The phrase was made to the effect of "the things that are needed in each room to live"

It got me to thinking.....what do we require to live? The kids and I have read the Little House series, and whoa. They had very little. And they survived. They thrived. They didn't keel over because they didn't have an xbox, a big screen tv, 40 outfits and a microwave.

I'm drowning in stuff. My kids are pack rats.

Confession? Sotto voce......

They come by it honestly. Mama and Daddy are pack rats too. Hoarders if we aren't careful. Not out of compulsion, just out of laziness and future speculation. We might NEED those spurs one day, right?

So, I'm on a quest. How much is too much? How much is too little? Where do you draw the line and say the hobbies(like spinning, knitting,reading, crocheting , quilting, and so on) are too much?

I'm curious. What do you need to live?

The journey of mothers

All mothers have a unique journey. Some seem to have it all together. Some are an obvious wreck. Some have it a little easier, some have it a lot harder. Where are you in your journey?

I am in a lonely place. I feel very lost as a parent, as I watch my oldest struggle with mental illness, and try to support her without enabling her, all the while protecting her son and her siblings without causing her to go into a tailspin. Then there are all the people who hear her diagnosis and roll their eyes in disbelief. My own inability to truly understand all that she deals with, can't deal with, won't deal with.

Where are you in your journey as a mother? Do you have a support group, or do you feel lost in the adventure?

A simple Mercer Meyer book....
Sometimes they forget. Forget they are too big to play gently. Or that the little princess is too little to dance a tango. Or that Mom's pet peeve is dirty laundry that no one picks up.
But sometimes Mom forgets that they simply......forget.

Custom knits

I've decided to start knitting custom knits. MAINLY woolies(soakers and longies to cover cloth diapers), but I'll take on just about anything.
So there's an etsy store in the making and a facebook page. Look for fibersnob on facebook and fibersnobbed on etsy!

There's a saying that people toss out casually when they learn you are having troubles. It's "God only gives you as much as you can handle." I recently read an article that refuted that. And even that article doesn't begin to touch on how angry I feel when people tell me that.

I'm at a point of certain I cannot cntinue on the path I am on. I'm weary. I'm tired of people telling me how much they admire me, think I'm Supermom. I'm not someone to be admired. I'm not Supermom. I'm a living, breathing, walking talking failure at all I've taken on. Because I have chosen poorly in my past. I can choose better in my future, but that doesn't fix the circumstances I live with now.

I will be honest. I'm terrifically frightened of what lies in my immediate future. I am very up in the air with a lot in my life, and I hate that feeling. I feeling a LOT like Raymond from the movie "Rainman", when he realized he was going to miss Judge Wapner. I'm more than a bit frantic right now.

So please, don't tell me that God never gives us more than we can handle, because right now, I'm staring at a tough old elephant for dinner, with no fork, knife, salt or butter.

Too too long

It's been entirely too long again since I blogged! I've gotten slack since moving back down south.
The barn is still in proress. Darling has bounced from job to job a few times since being laid off from the oil rigs, so finances have been a wee tight. We still have all the goats however! In fact, the goats have been saving the day! I started a small business that seems to have exploded...I am That Crazy Goat Lady(like us on facebook! My husband will tell you) and I have a ton of flavors. My darling love shared some with people who work at Cabela's in Sidney, Nebraska and they claimed my fudge to be better than Cabela's. *blush*

And we had a big surprise take us by stoem on Mother's Day, and then a few weeks later in person.
I am now a grandma. o.O

My oldest child chose Mother's Day to break the news of her impending pregnancy and a few weeks later Frodo arrived approximately 6 to 8 weeks early, after Teen's water broke in the tornadoes that hit Tiny Town, Wyoming on June 8  of this year. He is doing marvelously however, and he and his Mama now are back home with us full time so Grandmoogle can babysit while Mama finishes school. It's not easy for most people to understand when I say how proud I am of her, but if you knew our long story, you would. That little man has changed her life in so many marvelous ways! He and Uncle Rocketman are the best of friends and will one day terrorize the neighborhood!

I'm just busy trying to finish Christmas fudge for family and friends to mail out next week, so I don't get caught in the holiday rush like I always do.

Hoping to get back here sometime this week again!

Life marches on

So let's see....since my last post over a year ago...we've brought home the Teenager. We've set Dad off to work in the oil fields. We've welcome a new little man. We've finalizedour foreclosure after 2 years of battling to keep the house. We've moved. We've brought Dad home from the oil fields.

So now, we're renovating what I hope will be the last place we move to. It's a single wide mobile home, 1993, that has been owned by older families with untrained pets. It needs...help.

Step one: Rip out carpet. Check.

Step two: replace hall floor. Check.

Don Juan helps sand the old glue off the supports

Dad screws the particle board down

Meanwhile...

Rocket Man learns to be independent and read a book. And the doctors worry about literacy in our family O_o

and Tink celebrates her 10th birthday.

New adventures all around!

In one weekend

They both grew up.

The Teenager was home for  5 days. We had a few snarls, but nothing major, and she's making concessions she was never able to make before.

And I heard the word "College" from her for the very first time, with intent, instead of derision. She has no idea where, she has no idea what, but it's there. She even has some oddly unique opportunities because of being in the state system the last 18 months. Strange how things work, isn't it?

And my sanity maker came home from her very first youth group ski trip, with her hands full of information on colleges, her eyes all aglow, with very specific direction. She knows where, she knows what.

It's so strange to watch them slouch through the house, stride with purpose through the house, chatter to each other and recall in a flash, how small and dependent they once were. I see them as a child, yet suddenly, in front of me, here are two incredibly gorgeous women. Where did they come from?

Oh yeah. Me.

I wish I could slow down time or even stop it for while, go back to when they were babies, watch them again, with more intent. Live life on purpose, instead of flying by the seat of my pants. And then I realize...they might not be who they are if I cold change anything. So I give up that dream and I watch them, wondering where they shall be one day.

Amazing how you can live a life in one weekend.

Mom! UR SO KEWL! Or You can breathe now

So she's home.

And I know, my heart skips several beats.

One because she's HOME. Not forever yet, but she's home. And two, because  when you hold your breath long enough, your heart will skip a beat.

Yes, I still hold my breath when she's home. I'm afraid I will for some time to come, even when she's home for always and all eternity. Or at least until she leaves for college-which she finally has plans for.

And I may well even still hold my breath for quite sometime after at. Even when I see Christ shining completely from her eyes, I'm honestly afraid I will hold my breath.

But now, for a short time, I let myself breath as we pretend we're friends. As I share all the poor choices I made as a teen. And in college. And after college. And just last week. Just for one brief shining moment, we are less than enemies, more than mother and daughter. We are comrades in stupid. Bosom buddies in "Really? No WAY!" We are blood sisters in the look that tells me I am no longer seen as the master of the controls, but human. Real. Of flesh and blood and emotion. Of pain felt, choices made that determine our future and all too often, taint our past.

Suddenly, she realizes that the old woman, gray streaking her hair, size 14 jeans instead of the slender size 4 I once was-before her shining presence filled my growing and eager belly) wrinkles not seen in that senior picture which her brother gallantly declared upon spying  "Momma! You was pretty! I liked you then!

Might

Just

Really

Understand.

Suddenly, Mom is cool.

Mom is real.

Mom is

Someone she can actually talk to without reservation, and still, amazing,

Love her for WHO SHE IS. Because Mom once did the exact same thing, and stunningly enough, quite a few things not recommended for teenaged daughter to try at home, because the stunts previously aired on this channel were performed by a (not) professional that the teenaged daughter had never even considered

And oh yeah, Mom is NOT a SuperMom, despite all her hopes.

No sleep until 3:30 in the morning is kryptonite to this old, graying woman.
And maybe, I can breathe a little easier now while she's home.

Ready for spring

The warmer days are making me antsy for spring. I am ready to clear out the old, dead growth from last year and get new in the ground.

We're planning on scattering wild flower seeds and sunflower seeds in the front yard. Who has time to mow a lawn with as much as we have to do here? I love the deliberate chaos look I've seen in some places, so I'm hoping to try that.

The southern side yard will be getting a hoop house this year also. I'm not sure if I want to build a frame and connect it to the side of the house, or just put the hoop house up as normal, and secure it against the wind.

Upon further discussion with a friend, we're actually looking at the old garage for a second barn, using it as the main animal barn and the one we spent this last year building as a hay storage area. Regardless, we're going to take a weekend clean out the garage finally, and tear it down. We've also got the original barn on the property to finish tearing down. Thankfully, there's a place in town that will pay us for the metal.

We're looking at fresh meat birds, fresh egg layers(the 10 we bought in October did not survive the harsh cold...lesson learned? No baby chicks in winter)


I'm ready. Spring can't come soon enough or me!

Vindication

I thought that being vindicated would feel wonderful. Oddly enough, it feels just as wretched as being offended.

Standing on principle is sometimes very hard to do. But when you do it and it costs you a friend, it's harder. And while I wish in part that I could go back and change the situation, the rest of me is actually very glad this happened when it did.

But I still miss idea of my friend.

The Date

It's nigh on 15 years since the first time he took me out on his arm. It's still my favorite date. It wasn't anything spectacular-in fact, it ended in a threat, tears and a hug. But, that was the day he became my knight in shining armor.

Most of you know our story starts with books. It's always revolved around books. He caught my eye with a book, he caught my heart with books, he caught my hand with books. He's always been my book buddy.

We met in August over a stack of books, from Tom Sawyer to How to get Money for College In September, he shared his favorite book Lizard Skin with me. It started a strange love affair. Somewhere along the way, we spent a few minutes discussing old movies. I was more than thrilled to know he liked old westerns. My best memories as a child were laying on the floor at my grandpa's house, watching John Wayne save the day. I adored old black and whites, but somehow, I'd never found the man that wanted to watch them with me. They always wanted to see things blow up. Silly me. Don't you know things blow up with John Wayne too? With each passing day, I knew this man was the one intended for me.

December saw the kiss that melted my knees. And I waited for more. I waited for an offer of dinner that didn't include half my regular counter customers or having to jump up to refill someone's coffee cup. An invitation to a movie. A trip through the mall. January passed and I was growing discouraged. Had  he thought I was too forward with that first kiss, where he dipped me low and held me close? I must confess, hussy that I was, I longed for his arms around me again. They were such marvelous arms! It was all too easy to be there, and want to stay there. Was I too eager? Discouragement made the already dismal January days more dim. I was dealing with an estranged soon-to-be-ex, and I needed something to make me smile.

February greeted us with snow, and lots of it. I was really starting to think that perhaps, my handsome cowboy was interested in only one thing, and honestly, I'd had enough of men who only wanted me for my body. I wanted to be wanted for more...for my charm, my wit, my all-too hidden intelligence. I wanted to be valued for more than a skinny waist and a large chest.  I know, it contradicts those weak knees. Love's got to start somewhere, doesn't it?

Two days before my birthday, he came rushing in after work, wind blown and covered with a dusting of snow. He grinned at me and begged for a cup of coffee to warm his hands up. Despite all my fretting, it was impossible to resist his gorgeous smile and easy teasing. I fell right in with the usual banter. My heart was aching though, and I knew time was drawing close to say good night to him. he never stayed late when the weather was bad. Pretty soon, he slid his coffee cup across the counter and declared his finished state. I handed him his check and told him I'd see him later. He moseyed up to the register, paid his bill and returned with what I assumed was his usual tip. He reached out and snagged my arm as I scooted past the counter.

"Hey darlin'. I know it's kinda late notice, and maybe I waited too long to even think about asking. There's this film thing Sunday night at Joe Pages. I was wonderin' if maybe you'd be interested in going with me?"

My heart stopped. I wasn't sure if I should keel over or leap and shriek for joy.

"What kind off film thing?"

"Aw, it's this old black and white silent movie film festival. I don't imagine you'd really be interested in that though, now would ya? You'd probably rather go see that Johnny Depp feller. It was silly of me to ask." He started to head for the door and I found myself grabbing his arm.

"I would love to go. Sunday evening? What time?"

He filled in the details and we agreed to meet downtown. It wasn't too far from his place, and I had to work until shortly before the movie started. As I watched his truck pull away, I realized that the movie was on my birthday. It was a good way to spend my birthday. And I didn't need to tell him that it was, just enjoy his company.

Sunday couldn't come fast enough for me. I made it through my shift, with butterflies that threatened to rip me in two. My shift ended and I raced to the employee break room to change my shirt and brush through my hair. I clocked out and raced across town to Joe Pages Book store. Just another book on our shelf, I mused. It seemed fitting to spend an evening with my cowboy at a bookstore. I pulled up and saw him leaning in his easy, casual way against the wall outside the store. He grinned at me, stood up,  and made his way to my car. He opened my door for me, reached in and helped me out, a gentle hand on my elbow. As usual, my heart skipped several beats at his touch, even though it was through several layers of winter clothing.

"Hey there Darlin'. I'm real glad you made it."

He placed my arm in the crook of his elbow and led me to the cook store. I was early, so we took a few minutes to peruse the books. I'd never been in this book store, but it was clear he had. He knew his was around, and the help there knew him well. He offered to buy a cappuchino for me from the coffee bar and we headed to the basement to watch The Great Train Robbery, complete with piano accompaniment. It was probably the most unique and marvelous evening I'd had since spending my 18th birthday cross country skiing with my high school sweetheart. It was certainly more thrilling for me. He kept leaning over to whisper in my ear. Every time I felt his breath in my ear, my own breath caught and I tingled from head to toe. Pretty soon, I realized that he had an arm draped easily across my shoulders and I leaned into it, savoring his clean smell, no frills, just him. The movies ended and the owner announced that hey were giving away door prizes. They called out a ticket number, and my cowboy's hand lifted in the air.

"Right here." he called out. "This young lady's got the winning ticket."  I blushed deeply, and protested. "You bought them. It's yours." He insisted, telling me that he'd put my ticket in his right vest pocket and by golly, that's the one that had the winning number. He refused to take no for an answer, and I made my way to claim a gift certificate for the book store. We eventually made our way to the top floor, where I picked my books-Les Miserable, Don Quixote, and The Great Gatsby. He made me promise I'd share. How could I not?

He asked me to go walking with him, and it was all too easy to agree. Pretty soon, we came on the Plains Hotel, with it's quaint little cafe on the ground floor. He asked if I was interested in a bite to eat, and opened the door, gestured grandly and laughed with me. He asked if I trusted him to order for me. My gallant cowboy was catching my heart more and more with each minute, with each effort he took. He ordered coffee for us both and asked the waitress to bring me a reuben sandwich. He glanced in question at me, and got a nod of affirmation that the sandwich he'd chosen was perfect. In fact, how had he known it was my favorite? He always had a knack for knowing my favorites. We enjoyed our meal, chattering about the movie, the books I'd chosen, his weekend. Eventually, we wandered our way through the lower level hallways of the hotel, checking out the history that adorned the walls. He escorted me back to my car, and opened the door for me. He asked if I was interested in going to his apartment. I hesitated, but realized that it was exactly what I wanted. There was no hint from him that he had plans for anything but a pleasant evening, so I felt it was good. As I sat in the driver seat, I realized there was a note on my windshield. Curious, I pulled it in to me. My cowboy satin the passenger seat, as I read the note.

It was from my ex, and said simply that our daughter needed me. I sighed, and told Cowboy that I needed to go. he asked if I'd drop him off at his place then on my way. I agreed, and finally found out where he lived. He leaned over at his curb and kissed me gently on the cheek. I told him I'd see him later. He agreed, and I raced ff to see what might be wrong with my baby girl. I hated leaving her with my ex, but he'd managed to win custody of her in the temporary agreements, citing my work hours and  lack of finances to pay for a day care. Fighting him was financially impossible for me, so there she stayed. I was upset that something was wrong, and more upset that I'd been stalked down. It bothered me that he'd been able to find me in a town of 50,000 people.

When I arrived at his house, our daughter wasn't even there. He'd sent her to the babysitters, because he wanted to talk. He wanted to make things work. We'd already had this talk, and the last time, it had ended in him dragging me out of my car by the hair, and throwing my keys in 3 feet of snow. I wasn't willing to live my life that way,  and was trying to break free from the abuse and deception I had lived with since we married 5 years before. As I expected, the 'discussion' turned ugly. He brought up Cowboy, screaming that he knew I was being unfaithful, and had been all along, that he was going to get him sent to Saudi Arabia with a target painted on his back. (Yes, my Cowboy was once in the Air Guard) It disturbed me further that my soon-to-be-ex knew that Cowboy was in the guard. Too much control was being exhibited again, and it just firmed my resolve to be free, and to find a way to get my daughter with me. My ex had crossed a line that bordered on crazy and dangerous. It terrified me. He ranted and screamed more about my Cowboy, how he'd kill him or any man that came near me. It broke my heart to hear the threats, and I realized that I couldn't place my Cowboy in that danger.

I managed to break away from my ex, and made my way back into town. I decided that it would be better for my daughter and my cowboy if I ended it cleanly there, before I was too much in love with him. I cried, because I knew, I already loved this wonderful man, who made my every want and need a priority over his-and we were just friends at that point. No better friend had I ever had.

I arrived at his apartment, rang the bell to let him know I was there, and he came down to open the main door. He could tell I had been crying and immediately asked if my daughter was ok. I spilled out the story of my ex's deception and threats. As I sobbed, he held me and let me cry. Eventually, I pushed myself out of his arms, because it hurt just too much to be there, knowing I wanted to b there forever. I stood up and told him that  I needed to step away from our friendship, because of my ex's threats and control tactics.

He stood up with me, reached for my arms and pulled me close.

He squeezed and told me "Darlin'. Stop crying now. That old varmint doesn't scare me a bit. He's nothing to worry about. You need a friend and that's what I am. And friends just don't let friends alone when they need someone. You're  stuck with me, darlin'. When you're all done with this here mess, if you want me gone, I'll skeedaddle. But right now, you just need a friend. " I was stunned to hear his words. I glanced up at hi, tears streaming down my face. he pulled out a blue cloth handkerchief and wiped my tears away. I giggled at his hankie. He assured me it was clean, that he'd just opened a brand new package. It made me giggle even more. I again tried to insist that he didn't need to deal with my ex.

"Darlin', he's just a bully. And I think you've been bullied a lot. You need a friend." I sat, silent for a few minutes.

"I thought that you...." I grew quiet again.

He looked at me closely,. He watched, silent for a minute. I didn't know how to say what was going through my head.

"You thought I just wanted a piece o' you?" I blushed and shook my head softly."I was afraid maybe so." I whispered quietly.

"Well, now, I'd be an idiot if I didn't want you. But Darlin', there's something about you that makes a man puzzled. And I can't figure it out if I just treat ya like a lady from the Hog Ranch. You've got something special and I like it. If all I am is your friend, then that's just fine. But if there's more later, you'll never hear me complain. Can I just be your friend for now though?" I was stunned to hear his words. He was even better than I hoped for. I started crying again and he pulled me close. After a few minutes of holding me, he sat me up and said "And what a crappy way to end your birthday. Can I do something to make it better now? Dumb guy, ruined the whole day."

He'd known all along that it was my birthday. With each passing minute, every thing he did, every word he spoke, he just caught me even more.

My book buddy, my best friend, my Cowboy, my now-Darling. It's been 15 years since that date. He's still my knight in shining armor. He still mes me shiver when he touches me. And I still love to share my books with him

ARGH!

Stay out of my home school decisions and leave my family alone. It's no one's business how we choose to homeschool. My kids don't need your "help". Know what you are getting involved in before you decide there's a need. Especially when there might already be help in lace.