Ever have one of those years where it feels like nothing but fits and starts? This blog, like this year, has been full of fits and starts. I started my endeavors in this whole blogging, website development thing early in 2009. I realize this is way behind the rest of the world's learning curve for web business and such. I do find it frustrating, but I'm powering through it, slowly but surely. As long as I never quit - and learn to prioritize my time, I'll be fine. And whether you're a newbie or a seasoned pro, everyone starts somewhere, right?!

Thanks for taking a moment to read this, and second, as everyone who has ever blogged, or sat down to blog, I am on a huge learning curve. Tonight, I changed some things around. I added a Follow Widget and invite you to follow. Leave me a comment, and I am committed to be back regularly now.

I'm learning so much from my friend PennyGo, who has so selflessly helped me in even getting this far. I will learn to back link, but I have included three of her many websites and blogs on the friend's links section. Be sure to visit her at http://onlinecommunitycollegecourses.com/, http://walkweightoff.com/, or at http://camper-blue-book-value.com/!!!

I'm doing this site for myself, as most bloggers do. I need to have a place to be creative, and not worry about the outcome. Welcome to my world.

My fat Tabby cat and I are here again on Friday night, and I'm done now trying to learn anything more tonight. I'm done tweeting, posting with friends on Facebook, talking to GoDaddy about the technical aspects of linking e-mail to my first affiliate site - again, too much a learning curve making my head swim. So, I'm going to pet the cat's belly (he loves that), and get my fur-fix and go nigh-night.

Back at this whole thing tomorrow. Peace. Out.

Joyous, Happy and Bright? It's Christmas...

This is the time of year that is ostensibly joyous, happy, and bright. I'm not at all feeling happy and bright. Fundamentally, I always feel joyous in Christ, but that is not the same as happiness, and not a feeling that I equate with being happy. And certainly not bright, no I haven't felt bright at all.

The first part of December, I had a 'monumental' birthday - I am not old, I am 'recently renewed' - and now, 50. Being fifty is not a bad thing, in and of itself. I am not having a mid-life crisis, as I am in no way delusional that I will attain the ripe old age of 100; ergo, I am past mid-life altogether. I had hip replacement surgery in September because my hips don't lie, and I'm told that eighty year old women have hips that are in better shape than I have. The surgery and the months in recovery now, have had their share of ups and downs.

I digress a moment to give you an example: My friend Melissa is a beautiful woman from Georgia who is an RN. I had the pleasure of having to take an injectible medication for about two weeks post op, and having an adverse reaction to poking myself with needles, I called on Melissa to teach me how to do this thing.

So, Melissa came over a couple of times while my sister was at my house taking care of me that first few days. Karen was also a needle newbie, and Melissa carefully explained, and stood watch while Karen administered the injections the first few days. Of course, it was my stomach that was the target - so, I paid attention to how to do this, as I knew that Karen would be leaving me (waaah!) and I would have to do this myself.

Picture this, I'm laying in a rented hospital bed, Karen is on one side of me and Melissa on the other. Melissa explains how to wipe the injection site and shows Karen how to click the needle into the "ready" position, and says t her, "Now, you just have to own it! It's like throwing a dart." Karen hesitated - I closed my eyes. I think Karen probably closed her eyes too. She hesitated and Melissa urges, "Just own it, Karen!" Karen plunges the needle in and viola'! She's in. Melissa coaxes her on how to slowly push the medication into my belly and we're done. All good. The next day, without Melissa there, Karen does it again. On day three, Karen had to leave, and it's now my turn. No Melissa and no Karen.

I'm laying in the hospital bed. I adjust the bed and put the head and feet up and get comfortable. I lift my nightgown up over my tummy and take the needle in my right hand. I remember how Melissa had shown Karen how to prepare the needle and wipe the new area I've carefully mapped out in a circular pattern for the next site. I'm thinking to myself, "I am about to put a needle in my own belly. I didn't like it when Karen did it, I'm not going to like it any better now that I have to do it. Now, I'm wavering. I can't do it. Who can I call? I have several other nurse friends, and any one of them would probably come to save me. I'm a baby. I'm a wienie! A big fat whiner, wienie baby!" Now I'm talkin' to myself out loud. "OK, just own it. Just own it. OK, go." And I am pinching the flesh together with my left hand like I'm supposed to and I plunge the needle directly into my left thumb! "Geez! Crap!" I try to get my composure. "OK, now do it again and own it!" I draw back my right hand and stick the needle into my belly. But, of course it hurts, and I automatically pull back and withdraw the needle because I don't like stabbing myself!

I'm pissed because I know how dumb that was, and laughing too hard at myself by this time. I had to put the needle down for a minute and pull myself together. II reached over for a cold drink of juice, then picked the syringe back up for the last try. If all else fails, I'll call someone. I can't think of really bothering someone to do that, no matter how much they love me. I grab the flesh and insert the needle, being careful not to pull it out the second time without getting the dose I need. Success! I rock! I did it! Big girl! I managed to make it through the next couple weeks and for sure, got the needle in the wrong place a couple times and caused myself a good amount of pain. Not too bright. I didn't feel too bright.

Fast forward to December: my birthday, and the day after my birthday, my Mom's birthday. Or rather, what would've been my Mom's birthday. I hate the first year anniversary's after people die. The first Mother's Day, the first Fourth of July, the first Thanksgiving, the first birthdays. Mine and hers. It was always mine and hers. I'm not happy. And now, just two weeks later, we're coming up on Christmas. The first Christmas. New traditions will be made, but I don't feel like making new traditions. I'm not happy about it at all.

I don't want to decorate or make cookies; Christmas Eve snacks, Christmas breakfast or the buffet lunch that we as a family had always noshed on Christmas Day. My hip still hurts. There is too much scar tissue building up inside. The doctor told me to get a rolling pin out and massage my leg up and down daily. It feels too much like going through the motion of making rollout sugar cookies with Mom. And, it's Christmas. There is too much scar tissue. I'm not feeling too happy or bright.