twiddling my thumbs…

…and writing like it’s going out of style!!!

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…the apple of my eye…my daughter…

What my daughter knows that you don’t is that I’ve been sitting around twiddling my thumbs…when I’m not churning out posts one after another. My fellow bloggers will agree that this can be addictive, whether they’re avid photographers or passionate writers. I like to think I’m a little of both, leaning more towards the latter.

You see, I’ve got a couple of guys in the house with me. And before you go THERE,… they’ve been doing some remodeling in my daughter’s bedroom. They estimate it’ll take a mere week-and-a-half.

So if you can stand it…I’ll just keep pawing away at the keyboard, elaborating upon every thought that pops into my head. And as those who are near and dear to me know firsthand…there’s a never-ending deluge of words fighting to be let loose upon unsuspecting readers like you.

But as I said before…

…i promise to dry up…sooner rather than…later…

Watching and Blogging

…btw…that’s not me…just someone who looks a lot like me…

………hugmamma.

task-reward…task-reward

My husband’s advice to my blogging addiction is “allocate time and reward myself with blogging.” He, saint that he is, cares not a fig that I haven’t cleaned the bathrooms yet, or pulled out more than a handful of weeds. Yes, I did treat Mocha to a long, long walk to the creek and back, but I got no housework done and didn’t congregate with the birds and the bees in the garden as I promised myself, and you, I’d do. And here it is, 3:36 a.m.

My husband’s a little crazed himself, however. He’s still awake, reading his e-book. But that’s because he already took his long nap, snoring in front of the TV last night. Between snippets of blogging here and there, I was watching “Say Yes to the Dress,” a bride’s reality show, and then HGTV’s “International House Hunters” marathon. Australian real estate was being featured. I couldn’t tear myself away until I’d seen which homes couples on a few of the segments chose to buy. And then, of course, I cleaned up the kitchen. Yes, I am still making dinners. Although tonight hubby picked up Chinese-to-go, Kung Pao Chicken, Fried Rice with Chinese Sausage, and Honey Walnut Prawns. Nothing gets in the way of a meal…not even blogging. It may be late, like breakfast, but skip a meal? Never!

I’m pretty sure our house is the only one in the neighborhood lit up like a Christmas tree all hours of the night. When I crawled under the covers a little while ago, before I turned the computer on again to write this, I told my husband I feel like an entertainer, up late at night, asleep until the sun has already risen to its lofty perch in the sky. No, not quite noon, but close enough to be sacrilegious. Heaven help anyone ringing my doorbell. The only answer they’ll get is barking, barking, barking.

Okay. Now that I’ve emptied my brain, I’m going to go to bed. Tonight I’ll be repeating “allocate time and reward myself with blogging…allocate time and reward myself with blogging…

allocate time and reward myself with…………………………………… ………………………..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…………………………                                             

addicted…me?…nahhh

It felt really good not to be blogging while I was in the throes of ridding my daughter’s apartment of bedbugs. Well, let’s just say hugmamma’s mind, body, and soul was the furthest thing from my mind. Uppermost, of course, were the bed bugs followed by the dive-bombing cicadas, the mid-90 degree temps, food poisoning, and the walk-in doc thinking I was having a stroke. So you see, I was really preoccupied.

But even after I returned to my empty nest and settled back into my same old routine, I stayed away from my laptop. I eventually mosied up to it just to check emails. But it was even some time before I did that. I knew there might be WordPress messages telling me that viewers had left comments or “likes.” Then you know, the inevitable happens…I just have to take a peek. Then a peek becomes one posting, then another, then another…and before you know it, I’m in it again 24/7.

Well here I am. Going at it night and day. I barely get ready to start the day. I’m still in my nightgown now. Haven’t had my first cup of tea…let alone breakfast. Mocha’s going to begin pacing any minute now. The kitties are going to start moving toward my hovel for their rationing of attention. Eventually, and I mean eventually, I get going. But my brain is still in writing mode, wanting to drag me back or it threatens to explode.

When I crawled under the covers last night, or rather at 2 a.m. this morning, I said a short prayer, and then I repeated “I’m not going to blog tomorrow. I’m not going to blog tomorrow.” And I wasn’t. Scout’s honor! But as I was applying mascara to the lashes on my second eyelid, I bolted for my laptop, turning it on, then ran back to finish fixing my face. The idea for this post just couldn’t wait another second.

So here I am, giving into my A-D-D-I-C-T-I-O-N. According to my friend Webster, addict…,v.t. 1. to cause to become physiologically dependent on a drug. 2. to abandon (oneself) to something compulsively or obsessively. … 

I guess my drug of choice is writing…blogging. It use to be shopping, but after the bedbug incident I’m cured of stuff. We all have habits that are hard to kick. My hubby falls asleep, snoring in front of the TV nearly every night. Most of his siblings do, I think. I know it was a nightly ritual for their parents. My brother Ben is a radio-talk-show-a-holic. Always has been; always will be. Don’t get him started on politics, religion, or anythingelse you hold sacred. My brother Ed is a tech-a-holic, stopping by once-in-awhile to impress me with his high-faluting geek speak. None of us are exempt from habits, good and bad. I’ve just got to balance the scales a little.

Now that I’ve gotten this out of my system, I’m off to work on nurturing my good habits, things I’m not addicted to doing, like housework, long, long walks with my best buddy, Mocha, and fraternizing with the weeds and mosquitoes. I will not be back here today…except maybe to visit other blogs…

you think?…wanna place any bets?…i’m not going to blog today…i’m not going to…hugmamma.  

“homeless celebrity,” ted williams

 

Along with most other Americans, I rooted for Ted Williams as his resurrection from the homeless heap was broadcast across all TV channels not too long ago. But where is he now? Is he still in rehab for alcoholism? Is he still getting phenomenal job offers? Does anybody care anymore? Now that I think about it, didn’t Dr. Phil assume responsibility for getting Williams “back on track?” But no longer media’s darling, he seems to have been quietly relegated to castaway status again.

An article in Tennessee’s homeless paper, The Contributor, “Lessons Learned from Ted Williams the homeless man with the golden voice” by Gemma Holmes, once again shines the spotlight on the man who was given the chance to salvage his life in a big way. Holmes explains, convincingly, that the homeless experience cannot be rinsed clean by fame and money.

The rags to riches story of a homeless veteran with a golden voice took him off the street corner begging for change to the sets of the Today Show, The Tonight Show, The Early Show, Inside Edition, Entertainment Tonight, and Dr. Phil. He had a tearful on-air reunion with his mother and a public meeting with his children. Lucrative voiceover contracts with Kraft, MSNBC and others were given to him within days of his story going viral. The video of him being interviewed by a local reporter has been seen by 15 million viewers and counting. His rise to stardom in less than two weeks was remarkable. The glare of the spotlight showed us his talents, but it also showed us his demons that made the media who took him to the high heavens in one swoop, quickly throw him back to earth with a crashing hand.

Comparing Williams to other homeless whose “comeback stories are filled with ups and downs,” Holmes says about them

They may not have a golden voice, but many have skills and abilities that have been buried under the hardships that come with being homeless. Homelessness affects a person physically, spiritually, and emotionally. Many are looking for a second or even a third chance to correct the mistakes of the past.

The remainder of the article speaks to the selfless involvement of a local Nashvillian, Pat Waggoner, who is giving a “hand up” to the homeless in his community. Unlike Ted Williams who obviously had no support system in place to help him maneuver his way back from the brink, Waggoner provides the backbone needed for the homeless to stand tall once again, taking their rightful place among the rest of society. He understands “that getting a Ted Williams off the streets does not stop the struggles instantly. Unlike our culture of instant gratification, Pat is patient and believes that with faith, perseverance and hard work, lives can change for the better.” In offering the usual assistance to the homeless, such as meals, clothing and housing, Waggoner enlists the aid of others in the community, from “networking and civic groups, and church members who abide in his passion for helping others.” But he goes “above and beyond” as well.

He even finds jobs to help them become independent and self-sufficient. Pat is a strong advocate for rehabilitation to make sure that individuals stay drug and alcohol free after they leave the streets…he makes sure that for long-term well-being, he mentors men and families about financial literacy along with making sure they have someone to call when stressful situations occur that can push one over the edge. He encourages group therapy and spiritual counseling and believes strongly that counseling is one of the keys for personal growth. No, Pat Waggoner is not superman, but he is dedicated to deflating our homelessness numbers one person at a time.

The author goes on to say that Waggoner recruits others to help in his crusade by telling one homeless story at a time, enlisting his listeners compassion in believing in “the goodness of men and women who just need a break.” Undoubtedly not every story has a happy ending, but this doesn’t deter Waggoner from continuing to reach out to others.

“All too often when a very public rags to glad story falls short of our expectations, it has a chilling effect on us, and cynicism can creep into our giving and serving others.” This says the article’s author is why Pat Waggoner’s actions “can teach us to give to those in need, to step out on faith and build relationships with individuals who may still stumble and fall on the road to recovery. Leaving a life on the streets can happen with just one faithful encounter, but the emotional scars often remain as they transition into their new dwellings.” The writer goes on to suggest

If you come across a Ted Williams today, help him find a Pat Waggoner. Slowly but surely, you just might change a life.

there’s nothing i can add to such a profound statement…except “amen”…hugmamma.