That Curl can RUN!

 I deleted Facebook. Again. May 2018 I decided to quit Facebook. I sat in my OB/GYNs office discussing anxiety and worry and all the other issues that a mid-30s gal might face at that time. At some point I said '...and then I see all the news, real and fake on Facebook and I just get bogged down'. I had said many things before that, but to that she said 'You know you can quit Facebook if you want.' Of course I knew that. Didn't I? I had thought about it. I had considered it, maybe. Did I know I could actually do it?...... So I did. Well, I deactivated it. Same thing, no one could find me. I did have a business profile though, I kept that to manage a small public service that I provided and the page was used for scheduling and announcements. No friends. I didn't follow anyone.  For 8 years that business profile has stood alone. I no longer use it, I no longer provide my service, but I still had the page. I joined a local PSA group for road closures and ribbon cut...

 Back?  Not really. At least I don't think so. Who has time for a comeback? We all want a comeback, but how? When? And why? Of course I've had plenty of great conversations in my head (and out loud with my steering wheel) over the years but those float off into space and only the Heavens here me. No one is recording, no notes. How would I recreate those here for your enjoyment?  Sorry to tell you, I can't.  I could try to put pen to paper, if you will. here as they come up, but I'm not available that much.  Do you work full-time? Do you have family? Did you go back to college? Do you like to sleep? Me too. That leaves little time for blogging.  I did find myself reminiscing today though, on a Thursday no less. Shouldn't it be Khaki Thursday? Or TWPICK Thursday? Or even TOWPICK Thursday? It could be. It's actually TPPIOK Thursday I guess. (those pink pants instead of khaki). I can't even find a good pair of khaki pants anymore. That's a rant for another d...

Have you ever had a deja vu moment? The kind that interrupts your day? The kind that you can't shake, that you know isn't just a 'feeling', the kind that calls out memories because it's a real thing? I'm right there, in the swirling middle of one. Stuck between what I feel, what I see, and what I remember. March something-th, 2007 I sat in my car in the parking lot of a large middle school, on the phone with my older brother. I poured bits of my uncertain heart out, with hesitation, because I didn't want to sound immature, afraid, or unprepared. He responded with thoughtful assurance, a few probing questions, and the great 'follow your heart' advice. I knew. I knew then how sure I was, about how unsure I was. I knew then what my heart wanted. I knew what God wanted. Did I listen? Well, you know how these stories go. Last night I sat in the car, on the way home, with my future behind the wheel, and my uncertainty behind me, on the phone with my ...