Most days I have an agenda. I don't necessarily write lists like I did when I was working. Things are a lot looser these days. But yesterday was a totally self-indulgent "Ginny" day. I had breakfast and coffee in bed and read, wrote, surfed, and chatted the day away. Some may call that a day wasted but for me, a day like that is completely necessary on occasion in order to recharge my batteries. I've had some interactions lately that left me disappointed and feeling depleted. That is totally out of character for me and that is always my cue to back off and chill out. If my schedule for the rest of the week were more open, and if it were just a bit warmer, I would have hooked up TOW-Wanda and headed for the hills. As it was, I just hunkered down and enjoyed the sound of the wind rocking my camper and today is a brand new day!

He called me "baby doll". I know he did. I remember it. So why can't I hear his voice saying it? The inflection. The tone. I can't hear his voice in my head anymore. Not clearly. It's way off in the distance. Like the last echo. I hear it said over and over…that most common of pleas…"If I could just talk to him one last time, I'd be ok with this." That's a lie we tell ourselves.

I got back Saturday afternoon from my little jaunt to the Paul Thorn concert. It was cold out so I just curled up and read, took a nap, and cooked pasta with vodka cream sauce for supper.

I went to church yesterday morning and the topic was…listening for God. Since that has been our topic lately, I'll expound a little. Pastor Pam discussed the story of Blind Bart…Bartamaeus from the book of Mark. Bart had been blind since birth. He didn't have a sign around his neck proclaiming his blindness. He didn't shout or stop everyone passing by to tell them he couldn't see. He didn't complain. He just sat…quietly waiting till the day his keen senses picked up a great Man in his presence. At that, Bartamaeus stood and shouted to the Lord for mercy. The entourage tried to quiet him but Bart raised his voice calling for mercy until Jesus stopped and healed him. The other day, someone posted here that she couldn't hear God over her fervent prayers. To which I might suggest being still and wait for God to come to you. God is polite and won't interrupt our prayers. More often than not, we have to sit beside the road and listen for His footsteps. The disciples walking with Jesus thought they knew what they were doing by shushing old Bart, but sometimes those who think they have all the answers are the most blind.

I went to a Pub Church last Sunday evening. It was described to me ahead of time as a "Bible Study" but I found it to be more of an open and frank discussion about different topics gleaned from the Bible. Our discussion Sunday was whether we each have a purpose individually, or was He thinking more of the collective "we" having a greater purpose. We discussed if, how, and when God speaks to us. God speaks to me a lot and I treasure those moments. I also understand there are skeptics out there. A psychiatrist would have a field day with you if you tell him or her that you can actually hear the Voice of God. They have diagnoses for that.

Ok, not only was this guy talented, he did NOT hurt the eyes. The place was packed. There were only two seats available and not together so we all stood in the back and danced and sang and had the BEST time. AND…look who I got a hug from!!! He is so purdy! lol

OMGosh! I think I may need to start dating, y'all. You think Mrs. Thorn would mind? lol Seriously, Paul was so gracious and walked through the crowd and sang his last song. He signed the back of my new T-shirt. Fun, fun, fun night!!!

Sometimes, when I stretch my wings and step out of my comfort zone, I stir up that sleeping monster called "Anxiety" inside me. It's as if his radar gets a signal that I'm about to try something new and he jumps up like a junkyard dog, ready to attack me to keep me in my place. He is happiest when he wreaks havoc in my life. I have come a long way in taming that beast, but it takes a great deal of strength to hold onto the chains that bind him.

We all have some obscure factoid that others don't necessarily know about us. I'm not talking about a skeleton in your closet. I'm talking about some experience, honor, or event you have participated in that maybe no one knows. So, let's have some fun with this and learn more about each other.

I'll start…in 1988, I was living in the mountains of Colorado. My next door neighbor was a liaison between the town and movie studios wanting to film in the area. They were preparing to film a Charles Bronson movie…Messenger of Death. (An absolutely horrible film, by the way. Gruesome!) They were looking for extras but the slots filled up quickly and I didn't get signed up. She told me she could get me in to at least watch the filming. I walked into the train station that morning and she met me with a frantic "Did you bring your Jeep?!?!" Yes, I did. "Well, go get it and I'll meet you out front." When I got there with the car, she had me speak with the associate director. He told me he wanted me to drive down the street in front of the train station and make the right turn without stopping at the stop sign. Do you think I could drive around the corner without stopping at a stop sign I had stopped at regularly for two years? Nooooooo! On the third take the frustrated director jumped in the car with me and all the way down the street and around the corner he's yelling "Drive! Drive! Drive!" Geeeesh! Alright already. Don't get your panties in a twist!

Grief waxes and wanes. You can put it in your pocket for a while but eventually you stick your hand in and it bites you. Not hard this time…just a nip around the edges. I had lunch with a friend yesterday and we had a long heart to heart about things I'd never told her. It stirred up a lot of emotions. Then one thing and another pulled at my heartstrings all day. I finally sat down last evening and saw that my grandchildren were doing a fundraiser for the American Heart Association. I went online to donate and my son-in-law's mother had donated in memory of Mr. Virgo. I love her. That was the tipping point. It's ok. I'm good. I turned it around quickly by remembering the fun times we had together. I think this started with my trip to the Social Security office on Monday. This retirement thing was supposed to be a joint effort. sigh I guess I'll just have to play twice as hard to make up for his half of the story that wasn't finished.

Have you ever had someone on your mind and out of the blue you run into them or they call you? Can you honestly say that's just a coincidence? I don't know…maybe it is, but it has happened so often, I am disinclined to think it was an accident. I used to jump and call the person when that happens but I've learned to smile and wait. Invariably, I hear from them within a week or two.

Just after I stopped nursing my second child, I had an emergency appendectomy. Nine months later was a tubal ligation and major repair, then a year later was a total hysterectomy. I didn't bounce back very fast and was feeling out of sorts. I cried easily, I was tired, and I just didn't feel good. I told my doctor that I picked up my baby at night and cried. "Hmmmm…inappropriate crying." as he made a note in my chart. I left with a prescription for Zoloft and even though I thought he was way off base, I took it. That started me down a long, LONG path of destruction…to my self, my family, my friends. It took ten years and a lot of hard work to come back from that. I'm not saying there isn't a place for antidepressants or medications…there most certainly is. But I didn't listen to my gut. I didn't get a second opinion. And I lost ten years of my prime because of it.