Life in the Fast Lane

I have decided recently that if I had my druthers, I would not choose to live life in the fast lane. I actually do well under pressure and get a LOT done, but I don't think my nerves do well. This summer has been a really crazy one. Last summer, we had so many things that were planned to happen (a new granddaughter, a wedding). This summer, we just kind of went with the flow, so to speak, and it turned out to be almost busier than last summer. I am having a hard time believing tomorrow it is already September of 2009! Wow, how can that be? My work has been insanely busy, and I am really thankful for the work, but sometimes I feel like all I do is type. Actually, some days, that IS all I do. I feel like a typing zombie at times. People laugh when I tell them that after typing for an entire day, when I watch TV, I find that my fingers are typing everything that people are saying on a show. I know it sounds weird, but I type what I hear. I just figured out today that over the course of this year, I have typed 132,578 lines, and that is only taking into account the typing I do for my job and get paid for. Not even the typing I do in for my timesheets, emails, Facebook, or any other time. I guess it's a good thing that I love typing, huh? I will say, however, that I don't love typing as much as I love to travel, hence, the title of my blog. The best thing about working from home is that I can do it whenever and I can also take a few minutes every once in a while to dream about traveling on my next trip. So far, I don't know when that will be, but it is still fun to dream!

In Honor of My Dad

Eight years ago today, my dad passed away. He suffered for nine months with cancer of the appendix. A very rare form of cancer, according to the doctors. Nonetheless, he never once complained nor did he let on that he was suffering. He was such a dear man. He was a very gentle and kind man and one of a kind. He lived his faith like no one else I have ever known. One man who knew him told me that he had never seen another person in his entire life (and this guy is 70 years old himself) that lived his faith like my dad did. I remember as far back as three years old when my mom's dad passed away and she, my older brother, my baby sister, and myself were leaving on a plane to fly to Ohio to be with my grandma. I remember my mom telling my dad as we walked up the stairs to the plane (there weren't jetways back then, mind you) that there were bacon and eggs in the fridge for his breakfasts when we were gone. He was definitely a meat and potatoes kind of guy. I don't even remember him eating anything like spaghetti or anything like that until I was well into adulthood. He grew up on the farm and loved his meat and potatoes. He also made a killer salad every Sunday after church for our family dinner. I also remember one Sunday night when I asked how to get to heaven, and he took me to he and mom's bedroom, we knelt by their bed, and he prayed with me to accept Jesus as my own personal Savior. What a blessed memory that is. Another special thing that I remember was that we always had a garden whenever we lived where there was room to grow one. One of my favorite memories of my dad is that we would go out to the garden and eat ripe tomatoes standing there together in the garden. Tonight, Mike and I were standing in our own garden and I ate a ripe cherry tomato in honor of my dad. What a seemingly small, but fun memory to have. He definitely taught me to appreciate the little things in life. Like love, ripe tomatoes, hard work, helping others with no concern for my time or money, and living my faith as a Christian. He and my mom were married just shy of 50 years when he died. He loved her like no one else I had ever seen. He was a wonderful dad, husband, grandpa, and friend. I am so thankful to have had him in my life for the years I did. He was one in a million. And I miss him dearly.