I have a confession, and I hope it doesn’t make anyone think less of me. In my county, we have too many traffic lights to count. In fact, one of the Cities started labeling lights “2a” and “2b” so as not to confuse people when new lights are added.
Should I decorate for Christmas?
I love how the lights brighten up my living room in an attempt to chase away the ever darkening evenings. The darkness creeps into my spirit, sucking the life out of me.
To say the weather hasn’t been kind to Sevier County this past week would be an understatement. A combination of drought conditions with high winds resulted in a deadly fire. Continue reading
I attempted to write a blog post earlier in the week to document my thoughts on the fires which recently devastated the Tennessee side of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, spreading into the City of Gatlinburg. My attempt quickly devolved into an informational news piece, poor quality news article at that.
I’m currently reading a book called what women fear. In it, she suggests that perhaps procrastination isn’t laziness, but rather fear. Until I make the choice, I can always say I’m going to do it. Once I’ve made the decision and proceeded, failure becomes an option.
While it may seem dramatic, that was the exact state of paralysis I found myself in trying to decide upon a new-to-me car. 14 years with the same vehicle is a long time. I hope to make such a good decision again. What if I messed up? Continue reading
I still have a race report (and giveaway) from this past weekend’s half marathon to write, but I need to write in order to help process what happened on the way home from South Carolina. Continue reading
Today I wore a skull t-shirt and a mohawk to church. Well, partial hawk. I had the full hawk going but just couldn’t bring myself to leave it.
Although, if I may boast for a moment, fabulousness filled my hair from root to tip.
In the back of my mind, however, I felt the disapproval of Vernice and tamed it down. Continue reading
Sometimes writing is hard. And I don’t just mean carving out the time, or when my “s” key sticks as I try to capitalize it.
The act of committing my thoughts to paper is a big chore. What if I’m misunderstood? What if someone reads my heart and disagrees, and doesn’t care to tell me as much. Continue reading