Remember the lady that ‘supposedly’ brought her daughter to the tanning salon? (CBS News story) I meant to write about this right after it was first reported; but I got side-tracked. Well, I don’t know if she did or not … her story changed from “I didn’t put her in the tanning bed … she was only in the room/booth with me” to “I didn’t even bring her to the salon”. I try very hard not to ‘judge’ people – I always remind myself that I better not. Either way, nobody can get a ‘sunburn’ from sitting in the same room with you while you tan in a bed. I have a tanning bed (36 lights), and my husband has sat down there (in the basement room) with me to talk, and he never got a ‘burn’ from it … he didn’t even get a tan from it. For most tanning beds, you usually just lay in there for about 20 minutes (or less); so whoever is with you can’t exactly get ‘burned’ while they sit in the room with you. Before I bought my tanning bed, I would go to tanning salons, and my experience with them was only with the beds, not the stand-up booths … so I don’t really know what those particular rooms look like. I’m guessing that the booth closes when you go in them – I’ve seen pictures of those kind of booths before and they advertise them as closing? I just know, factually, that with the regular beds (and in less than 20 minutes), nobody else can get a tan or burn from being in the room with you. Now, as for that lady, the only problem I ‘see’ with her is she tans too much. Her skin is awfully dry and she looks much older than 44? years old … more like in the 70′s to me. I don’t advise anyone who has a fair complexion to tan like that … it’s really not good for your skin. Most fair-complected people have dryer skin than those with a darker complexion. I know I can’t stop you, but if you’re going to tan, do it in small doses – like no more than 10 minutes a day, and no more than 3 days a week. Also, be sure to use a really good hydrating body lotion each day … especially one with sunscreen in it. It’s been confirmed that sunburns do not turn into a tan … that’s a myth. What actually happens when you burn is your skin tissue is burnt … it damages the tissue that forms the melanin (which is what creates the tan). You can Google this and see for yourself.

Now, on to something else …

On Facebook, there is a petition (w/graphic video) encircling the site about banning an electrical shock treatment a school uses to discipline it’s autistic and mentally-challenged students. (Boston.com’s news article) Personally, I find this to be a horrific and torturous act!. I really really hope the treatment gets banned. I just don’t understand how a professional sees that treatment as justifiable?!?! They’re practically killing the character and personalities of these kids by doing that! The mother of the boy in the video says her son became a ‘vegetable’ as a result of being shocked 31 times in one sitting. This just pisses me off to no end! How dare those people treat mentally-disordered children like that!! From what I read today, it appears like nothing is going to be done about this.

I’m pissed again. Breathe, Lisa … count to 10 slowly … calm down. On to something else …

Here in the Atlanta and surrounding areas, there seems to be a serious problem with abductions and abduction attempts. Every day, for the past couple of weeks, there’s been either a young woman or child that’s been abducted, or an abduction has been attempted of them. Scary!! I can’t help but wonder, “what in the world is going on?!?”. I’m starting to get very nervous about letting my kids go outside! Twelve years ago, I was diagnosed with having P.T.S.D. (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder); which was the result of a couple of events in my life as a child and teenager. Even though I was treated for it, and it went away, this whole ‘abduction’ thing has caused it to re-surface. I have been having quite the difficult time dealing with it again. Ugh!! I really don’t want to re-add medications for it, to help make it stop … so I’m going to check to see if one of my current medications can be raised in dosage (just to see if it’ll work). I hope it does. These ‘abductors’ haven’t been caught, yet … but I will be SO relieved when they do! If anything bad like that ever happens to one of my children, let’s just say I will be extremely and severely hysterical and devastated!

I think it’s time to move onto something less depressing …

This isn’t in the news, but I just wanted to share … Peter Pan Natural Honey Roasted Peanut Butter is the BOMB!! I have been a JIF – Reduced Fat brand peanut-butter-girl for almost 20 years now, but I tried that Peter Pan brand and I’m in LOVE!! Oh my gosh! That stuff is AWESOME! Too bad JIF doesn’t have that kind. The only problem I have with this Peter Pan version is they don’t sell it in bigger containers – they’re actually kind of small. I have to buy 3 containers of it to make it last through just 1 week. My kids are loving it too! C’mon, Peter Pan, sell it bigger containers! Think about the economy – one large container could be cheaper than the total cost of 2 smaller ones! lol

OH! I was watching Dr. Oz the other day, and he confirmed that eating ice cream is actually healthier than eating snacks like cookies. You’d think that it wouldn’t be, but it supposedly has less sugar in it than snacks like 1-serving size of cookies do. I had no idea! However, every day, when my youngest gets home from school, we each have a bowl of ice cream together – it’s become ‘a thing we do’ thing each day. I’ve noticed that not only have I not gained any weight from it, but rather have LOST some weight (not much, but still). He also said that it’s ok to skip breakfast if you’re not hungry. You should read the entire article, it’s very interesting and makes plenty of sense; especially since I have experienced some of the very same things that are mentioned in the article.

It sure is beautiful outside today … too bad my asthma is irritated by it (not too bad, though, thank you Lord). Have a great day, y’all~!

… and Jesus does too!

Remember … keep praying~! Especially for our friend Mark Tidwell, my neice Megan Cochran, and for everyone else~!

I find it kind of funny when I see people post things like “I’m leaving Facebook”, “I’m going to delete my account and move on”, or “I’m going to take a vacation, away from Facebook”. Reason why I find it funny is 9 times out of 10, they don’t leave; and if they do, they’re back the next day or two. I have no plans, whatsoever, of leaving Facebook. However, I am finding myself checking it less, and more less with each passing day. I’m not mad at anyone … and there’s not anything ridiculous or off the wall that I’m trying to avoid. I’ve just been getting a lot of sad news here lately, and well … on top of fighting my own battles … I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed. When that happens, I notoriously withdraw. I know that I don’t ‘appear’ that way in person … but that’s something I’m qiute professional at doing – suppression (not letting you know/see what I’m really thinking and feeling).

Thankfully, I’ve been able to manage my asthma … today is the first day, in a couple of weeks, that I feel ‘stuffy’ again … so that’s not too bad. I’m taking my meds, like a good girl, which I think has helped a good bit.

I sat down here, planning out this long post that I was going to write … mostly consisting of stuff I wanted to get out of my head, so I’d quit thinking about it; but … right now, I don’t want to.

I do want to bring to your attention a couple of people that have been weighing so heavy on my heart and mind … Mark Freeman’s family, and Mark Tidwell.

Mark Freeman was a good friend of mine, from years back … he passed away the other day – he was working on a car and it fell on top of him and crushed him to death. He was younger than me … and well, I thought of him as kind of like a little brother in some ways. This was pretty devastating news to me. Please pray for his family and friends, ok?

Mark Tidwell is a friend of ours from church. He underwent surgery a short bit ago, to remove some of his colon, due to cancer. Reports had come back stating the cancer had been removed and all was well. Then after a ?check-up, shortly after, they found a small cancerous spot in one of his lungs and in one of his lymph nodes (I think that’s the other place they mentioned, I can’t remember). Well, the doctors sounded pretty hopeful and positive that the spots can be beat and gave a ‘thumbs-up’ that they were going to fight this thing with winning results. This morning, sadly, he was admitted to the hospital, due to complications from that surgery. He’s in a lot of pain right now … so please pray for him, and pray for his family too.

There are a lot of sick, dying, and hurting people out there … and even though we may not know them by name … please lift them and their loved ones up in prayer to the Lord, ok? Thank you … thank you so very much for praying for these people.

Oh, and if you live near me, or in/around the Atlanta, Georgia area … you may have seen this on the news … but there is a 3? yr old little girl fighting cancer right now, and her family is about to lose their home. Please please please pray for this family too … and if at all possible … help them out, ok? I can not imagine the devastation this family is fighting against .. it just breaks my heart.

Until next time … I pray God blesses each and every one of you~!

Much love to all~!!

I have received this in email numerous times, and also have seen it spread around on Facebook. I have to say, this is one of my favorite ‘dog’ stories of all time. I don’t know who the author is though, but would surely give him/her credit as soon as I find out.

Enjoy … you might need a few tissues as well.

“They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”
____________ _________ _________ _________

To Whomever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’t
matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”

He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this … well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.

I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter … in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight – every night – from me.

Thank you,

Paul Mallory
____________ _________ _________ _______

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.

The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

“C’mere boy.”

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.

“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek.

“So whatdaya say we play some ball?” His ears perked again.

“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”

Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.”