the help review.

I don’t know why it took me so long to finally pick up this book and start reading. I guess I always have to wait out the hype of best sellers to see if they are worth it. (And I always have to read the book before seeing the movie.) Usually they are. This one definitely was worth it.

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There were so many parts where I wanted to slap one character, and other places where I wanted to high-five another.  I have always been interested in black rights and how the mentality of racism affected every single part of someone’s life.  I suppose we have our own hatreds these days (think DOMA), but the thought is just foreign to me. I can’t imagine treating someone as if they were less than me based on their skin color.

Now, I have read the book. I guess the only thing left to do is see how the movie compares.

when I missed spring.

I long for the light,
light that soaks in sunshine
and breathes it out slowly
and softly onto my face.
Light that makes my camera dance
with the assurance of a bokeh-filled photo,
depth being no problem in its presence.
Light that lifts me up at the corners,
where grayness tends to lull me
into consistent winter boredom.

I long to feel the aroma of tulips
so thick it sits on my skin
but can be wiped away
as easily as the lovers kiss
from the night before.

I long for strong rains
and deep valleys of green
soaking in every ounce of moisture
in the earth’s gentle skin.

Spring calls
and brings its radiance with it
too seldom for my aching pores.

But mostly,
it is the light
I long for in the dark.

conway twitty.

I shouldn’t post this. I certainly shouldn’t listen to it. But oh well, I am going to anyway.

For the entire time I was in middle school and high school, I would wake up early to go to school, and my dad would already be up, getting ready for work. He would have his old gray worn out radio set to the old country station. And we would listen while we got ready. Songs like this would come on and I never paid too much attention.  But now I distinctly remember a few that had always been my favorites.

It’s funny how music can take you back to a time and make everything seem that real again.

Miss you, Dad.

currently: happy 4th.

YEpreKzx15q3wnWhBIs09GlgXoBecVfHP4vs6hkoujI[2]+ loving:  a day off work.
+ reading:  The Help. Such a good book.
+ listening to:  Spotify radio.
+ eating:  Homemade beef jerky. My husband is good at that.
+ drinking:  Fruit-infused water. It’s better than I thought.
+ planning:  A remodel, a move, and a huge new-home decorating extravaganza.
+ missing:  my dad. Of course.
+ enjoying:  whatever sunshine I can get.
+ craving: a day where I don’t have anything to do. Where I can just do what I want.
+ seeing:  chipped nails. And I just don’t care.
+ wishing:  IKEA in Kansas City was done already. How will I ever wait another year?!

softball.

Mike has been playing on a wheelchair softball team, and every Thursday, they practice near our house. We have gone to watch a few times, and I have to say that dang, it looks fun. Tiring but fun.

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They are all good guys on the team. They have good attitudes and are always joking around. The kind of people I want to be around.

It’s so funny to me to see how much attention they get from people who are jogging or driving by. Wheelchair sports are fascinating to those that can walk apparently. Maybe challenging in their minds.  I like that. They see them doing the same things they can do, only sitting.KuLvoER-NBejJYsqIoE65HQnptqCj-0UJ5PPsyDl0eE[1]
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Whatever it takes, I guess, to get that right kind of attention.

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volunteering.

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Jude had contacted me on Twitter months ago, asking if I would be interested in getting involved with their volunteer activities, and at the time, I just couldn’t make it work. I was planning the wedding, figuring out where we would live, then dealing with Dad’s cancer. It just wasn’t a good time for me, or my obivously unstable emotions.

When he contacted me again, I decided that if now isn’t a good time, there never will be a good time.  I signed up for that next Sunday.

And two days later, off we went. He and Ami had already thought of everything. How I would be transported in my chair so I was a part of the group, not a tagalong. What I could be helping with, along with taking pictures. And Jude and I decided that if we went to the homeless camps near the river, he would be the one pulling me out of the mud.

The people that we handed food and water to were, in a word, interesting. All shapes, colors, types of families. Homelessness does not discriminate. And these people are appreciative. Many of them are proud.  It is so evident in their eyes that they need this and are thankful.

I look forward to doing this again, for them and for me.

 

Find out more about Silverback Kansas and what projects they curerently have going on at the website here.