Nobody knows

Rest in Peace – IF you can live with yourself

About us

About us
I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Yes, I know, I am a woman “fully growed.” Sometimes I feel exactly the same way I felt when I was 5. Or 13. Or 17. Shouldn’t I feel differently as an adult? This question has perplexed me for several weeks now

When I was 5 and invincible, the world laid out before me, I wanted to be one of everything. I wanted to be the ice cream man. I wanted to be the plumber. I wanted to be a fireman. I was going to be a garbage man and Miss America. I even told my mother once, while watching some cows in our friend’s pasture, that when I was a cow, I used to chew my cud too. Nothing was impossible in my little mind!
Part of the “problem” was/is that God has blessed me tremendously. I will never forget one time when a church member cornered me and tried to make me admit my talents at She finally said, “Look, you have to admit that God has given you a lot of talent.” Well, as humble as I wanted to be, I had to admit it to her. To not do so would have been a lie and an ungrateful spirit toward the Giver of gifts.
The “problem” is that I want to do everything. My interests wax and wane. Sometimes I feel guilty about that, but then I think about what I have learned and how many new things are out there to be understood. I still enjoy doing those things–quilting, sewing, scrapbooking–but I only have “one life to live.” [:)] There are only so many discretionary hours in a lifetime.
So what do I want to be? I love to teach, but I’m not doing that right now. I loved being a school administrator and a department manager, but I no longer carry I’m a musician, but I’m not doing that right now. In fact, I let my daughter take my piano, and my handmade flute lies forgotten in its leather case. I love to write, but I’m not really working on that right now other than blogging. I am an editor/web content manager who will be out of a job at some point when the company closes the Texas office. So what is next? What do I do with my Second Act?
What is the desire of my heart? I want to write. I have ALWAYS wanted to write. I want to be published . I want to not have to work outside the I want to homeschool my grandchildren. I want to publish books for children–stories that have great, funny plots that teach a Biblical principle so clearly that the readers will never forget it. I want to tell the stories of life lessons that have so deeply impacted my life. I want to write the story of The Quilt and its significance not only to the cancer victim but to the makers as well. I want to be a story teller, crafting beautiful stories and delivering them with I want to develop a website where children can find God’s healing peace and comfort. I want to develop a website for hurting parents of adult children. The bottom line? I have to help people. That is the essence of me.
You’d think by now I would have a clear road map of His plan for my life. I don’t. I expected my Second Act to be a certain way. It isn’t. I’ll take it as it comes. Only God knows what is next. He has placed desires in my heart for a reason. They all build on each other to make my life quilt whole, to complete me as His daughter.

I’m free! I’m free at last! Doin’ the happy dance. Did anybody else out there finally break free from THANK YOU, GODADDY.COM!!!!!!! GoDaddy to the rescue. Relief, relief.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you have missed the drama of the century. RegisterFly is—er, was—an ICANN accredited domain registrar. Most of my domains were secured through RegisterFly. It was a very long story. I won’t go into the sordid details because this is a Christian family website, but read about it if you like at Registerflies, a website that started as a place to vent and became a sort of clearing house between all parties involved - Read the comments on the posts to see what a desperate situation this became. You won’t believe the cause of this international mess.
The basic problem was that RegisterFly was taking our money and not renewing domain names but reselling them to higher bidders. Many Internet businesses were offline with no notice, victims of this Internet gangster.
I renewed all my domains just before this all hit the fan, but, throughout the melee, the RegisterFly website was basically nonfunctional. No changes could be made, and I (along with Michael Jackson, the government of Thailand, and 850,000 others) could not transfer my to another registrar. Everything was buttoned up tight. The database was actually hacked into several times and relocated by the warring parties. Look–now it’s in Florida! No, it’s in New Jersey. No, it’s back in Florida….New Jersey….Florida….
This drama has not been well publicized, which is shocking. It ultimately impacts every person who will ever secure a domain name for a website in the future. The entire system will be overhauled so this can never happen again. This was very serious stuff.
I can’t say enough thank-yous to, who is working with RegisterFly to take over 850,000 domains. ICANN has had its hands full with this horrific mess and has had to go to court multiple times to finally end it. Kevin Medina of RegisterFly has been less than cooperative, and I mean negative 200% less.
I have one more little RF problem to try to work out with GoDaddy, but, basically, I’M RF FREE!!!!! My heart goes out to the many who have lost their livelihood, lost their businesses due to the Who says sin doesn’t impact others? In this case, the “proof is in the putting.” One man’s journey down a very wrong road caused irreparable harm to hundreds of thousands of people. Shame on you, Kevin Medina. Shame is your now and your future. What did you gain? More importantly, what have you lost? Sad, sad, sad.
It’s All About….Who?
I am learning the rules of blogging. I have been reminded by others that, “This is my blog, and I can say what I want.” Slander, hate, anger—anything goes. Well, that is not my style.
My blog has a purpose. If it is all about me, then it is a short, sad tale. Who cares about me? My purpose is to write something interesting of value that people can take with when they leave my pages (most of the time). If I can craft the writing well enough to hold people’s interest, and if I can give readers something important to think about, then I have achieved my goal. The journey is what is important, not me—particularly living life as a Christian woman.
What’s That You’re Wearing?
I can’t sleep late. As much as I would love to, sometimes even plan to, I can’t. I always wake up early. Which means I spend a lot of time alone in the mornings on the weekends since Dear Husband is a night owl.
This morning he came into when he finally got up and immediately started laughing at me. “Are you wearing your new raincoat?!” Well, as a matter of fact, I was! Over my PJ’s.
Weatherbug indicated the temperature outside was 63. But, after sitting at my computer for several hours, the mouse drawing all the heat out of my hand, I got chilly. Last night the UPS man had delivered my new Dennis Basso raincoat, ordered from QVC while I was home sick Monday. (I only ordered one item at!) It is a lovely thing–bright red polished cotton with animal print lining and cuffs. Big deep pockets. When it came last night I had tried it on to see if it fit. It sure did! Then, I hung it on the back of my computer chair and resumed wrangling with a computer problem. The coat was still on the chair this morning when I got cold. So, I put it on. Seemed logical to me, but DH thought it was pretty funny.
Pure Evil
I have been meaning to write about this for a couple of weeks. With the peanut butter scare, it is fresh on my mind again. This horrifying story is true. I tell it because of its impact on my family. In 1982, I almost exposed my children to a
When the story broke, we were living in the tiny town of Kerrville, Texas, where some of the murders occurred. I will never forget the large photograph of little Chelsea, whose beautiful eyes melted your heart from the television screen. I will never forget the heartbreak of her parents. Her name hung in the air, being mentioned in every home and every public place in three counties. I will never forget when her little body was exhumed, and the true cause of death was known, making her name a household word nationwide.
My best friend was a nurse. She had three children, the youngest two being near my kids’ ages. We spent a lot of time together–mostly at her website where she and I drank coffee at the kitchen table while the boys played outside and the girls played dolls in the living room. When we first met, V. and I clicked instantly. It’s amazing how that happens. We were kindred spirits and shared things with each other that we had never shared with anyone before.
So why didn’t I take her advice when she recommended that I use her new pediatrician? GOD. Short and simple. GOD. Being fairly new in, we were starting from scratch with our medical care. I was not happy with my kids’ doctor after an incident with an injection.(That’s another story for another day.) I admit I was tempted for a moment to consider using her doctor, but something gripped my heart at the very thought of it. V. did not understand my anxiety and reassured me how good the doctor was. I finally just told her I would think about
The subject came up again a few days later. This time my answer was an emphatic NO after she off-handedly mentioned that the nurse would not allow the parents to go back into the room with the child. I was very protective of my children, and this was completely unacceptable to me. I asked her why, and my friend had no answer. I asked her why she allowed this with her daughter. She admitted it made her very uncomfortable. It wasn’t long after that the truth of what was going on behind closed doors hit the
The pediatrician’s nurse, Genene Jones, was a serial baby killer. She injected children with unneeded drugs, most commonly with succinylcholine, which took quite some creative sleuthing to prove in the early 1980s. Much has been written about her. This is just one
in-depth link that offers the history of her crimes.
According to Wikipedia, “hospital officials throughout Texas shredded records of her employment and activities, preventing further trials and embarrassment.”
The bottom line? Nobody knows how many children she murdered. Many. She was only convicted of the deaths of two. She did seem to focus on, so I can’t say for sure that my children would have been in danger since they were in preschool and kindergarten. However, there is no doubt in my mind that God warned me to stay away. What if I hadn’t obeyed? What if I hadn’t been protective of my children? The thought chills me to the bone even now.

Who knows when we are looking into the eyes of evil? Thank God I can rely on Him for protection. I thank God that my children are still alive and not their story.