I’ve had an interesting life. Of course, I need to write a book to document five decades of living, so I’m just reflecting today. It’s something I find myself doing a lot, now that I’m of “a certain age”.

I had some challenges as a child – but we all have our story. I have ADD, which back then was called daydreaming, if you were a girl.

Due to my strong personality and impatient temperament, I made some poor choices as a teen. I ended up pregnant at 18, and had to drop out of college to support myself and my son.

I worked 2-3 jobs at a time, at all times. I did whatever it took to keep a roof over our heads. There were no trips to the tanning bed, the nail salon, or vacations. I lived on cheap food, and thrift store clothes.

My next bad decision involved my first husband, a serial adulterer (who is heading into marriage #6). Marry in haste, I did – and repent at leisure, I most certainly did. I eloped and spent six years trying to make the impossible work. When he decided he liked the company of a pregnant stripper girlfriend more than his pregnant wife and two children, I kicked him out.

My parents were always there to catch me when I fell on impossibly hard times. A roof over my head, a vehicle when my string of junkers collapsed – they bridged the gap. There were no frills attached – they helped us survive. There were no vacations and expensive toys.

In 1997 I graduated nursing school with a 2 1/2 year old, a 6 year old, and a chronically ill 12 year old. That year my parents paid for my childcare, and I was on food stamps. The church donated food when times were lean. I slept on a mattress on the floor, with no furniture, except the crib my youngest slept in. My kids had thrift store furniture and hand me downs for clothing.

We were happy, though – there was an abundance of love, and security, and belonging to the family of God. We appreciated the beauty in nature, and the simple pleasures of life.

My kids didn’t get to do all that other kids did – I just couldn’t afford it, and they didn’t expect it. When I became a registered nurse, my oldest joined band, and my middle became a swimmer. They were all involved in church and youth group. They didn’t feel like they were lacking, because they were grateful humans. They are now very giving and thrifty as adults, because they knew the value of money.

My first vacation with the kids was to Disney World in 2005 – paid entirely cash, saved for, with all the bills paid. It was less than $1000 for a four day vacation for four. (This could never happen today. WDW prices are out of control).

I remarried in 2008 to a very financially responsible spouse. All our kids had their needs met, and from this house, reasonably limits on gifts and trips were set. On one side we had no financial input from the ex, and the other we had exorbitant lavish birthdays and vacations that were well above the ability to pay for them. It was hard to watch the kids have the world handed to them on a beer budget, as their expectations rose as fast the money spent on them did. We did eliminate the excess on our end, and we pray that their life will reflect this restraint for them, soon.

Financially now we are stable enough to live on one income, and I’m freelance writing. I also plan to get back to painting and art. My main priorities are my kids and my grandkids, and on regaining my strength and improving my health.

Now that the kids are grown, there are pangs when they have struggles financially. We are realistic with they make bad choices, and we let them have consequences. As the Bible says in 2 Thessalonians 3:10, if you don’t work, you don’t eat. Able bodied humans should work to support themselves, and especially so if they have children to support. If they choose to live for themselves, they choose to pay for it.

It was not easy being the breadwinner for most of my life, but it was reality. Regardless of exhaustion, illness, or lack of child support, the bills had to be paid.

I’m grateful that my parents kept my head above water more times than I can count. Their support helped me get to work, and helped me complete my degree. They were never Disney parents, and I’m grateful. My life was hard due to things out of my control as well as my poor choices. Because of this, I learned a lot.

I have a giving heart – but I also have discernment. I don’t give to those who have the capacity to do for themselves but choose not to. I do not believe in supporting irresponsibility. I will give and help a child with what is necessary, but I don’t give my kids or grandkids trips and vacations. Our home is open to visits, but not bounce backs.

There is a difference between wants and needs, and the way you learn this is the hard way sometimes. It is a vital lesson to be learned.

In this day and age of rabid consumerism, it is a lesson more important than ever.

Less is more.

I’m glad my kids know this, and I pray they will live a life of moderation and self control. They are young, but we hope to be an example to them of living within your means.

Being a registered nurse for over twenty years, I am very health oriented. Having been diagnosed with insulin dependent diabetes has made me even more conscious of my health. I’ve learned a few things along the way, and I’m learning more daily. One thing for sure, your health must be approached holistically.

When you look at health holistically, you take into account your mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health. It’s impossible to be truly healthy if you are only addressing one facet, while neglecting the others.

This is understandably daunting if you have not lived mindfully. Your life can change for the better if you take care of yourself in every area, every day.

It does take mindfulness, though. Every action, thought, or behavior has to be examined. It takes time. It takes effort! It means being realistic of where you are, and where you need to be.

I’m at a place where my primary concern is stable blood sugars. I know food affects my blood sugar – but so does stress, sleep, illness and medication, to name a few.

I can only control what I can control – so I remove myself from stressful situations, if possible. I’m getting more sleep. I literally am accountable for everything I eat. I drink a lot of water. I take the medications I need to.

I also am increasing my exercise, as I am able to with my blood glucose. I’ve bought books and am learning all I can about the diabetes.

I’m also taking care of myself for the first time with an eye toward good stewardship. I spent years emotionally eating, and it’s been a hard habit to break.

It’s all about balance – being kind to myself, but not falling into the unconditional love of self trap. Self care to take care of the temple God gave me, but not worshipping the vessel.

Poor choices on any one area will impact my life, regardless of how successful I am in another area of my life.

It really is about the big picture.

…to Miss New Orleans.

We are lucky to be within driving distance of New Orleans, Louisiana.

This city, celebrating her tricentennial this year, is a treasure. I love to visit NOLA, and look forward to my next visit.

If you go to NOLA and don’t eat amazing food, you’re doing it wrong. This weekend, everything we ate made my foodie heart sing. We started at Cochon, which is a celebration of all things pig. I love the Star Wars and 80’s memorabilia that decorate Cochon Butcher. It’s a visual and culinary delight.

We also ate at Mr. B’s, Maspiros, Cafe Du Monde, The Gumbo Shop, Brennan’s, and Fleur de Lis Cafe. Everything we ate was delicious, fresh, local, and made with love.

We bought pralines for family at Laura’s and Aunt Sally’s. We ate an exquisite macaron from Sucre. We had a Lucky Dog from a street vendor. Each experience represented different aspects of the city.

NOLA is a walking city, and we wandered all around the French Quarter, ducking into art galleries, pausing to admire the greenery of the balconies full of ferns and trailing, flowering plants. The buildings are full of history, and if you take a few minutes, you start to appreciate the beauty in the wrought iron, exposed brick, and gabled windows.

Music permeates the city, rolling by through open car windows, wafting out of corner bars, raucously blasting from brass instruments in the square.

Every sense is involved and at times overwhelmed by the sights, scents, and sounds of the city.

Let me clarify – I love to visit, but I would never live there. There is a lot of crime, homelessness, and drug use. The local government is more worried about erasing history than fixing infrastructure and addressing the crime. You have to be wise and thoughtful as you approach NOLA, and understand there are real dangers here.

We travel here with our eyes open, and we miss her when we are gone.

I can’t wait to go back!

I really love flowers…of all seasons and zones!

I went for a walk this evening and, as always, stopped to smell and appreciate the flowers.

Every place that I have lived has flowers laced throughout my memories of living there.

From my childhood and high school years living along the Wasatch Front in Utah, my memories are strewn with iris blooms, and lilac bushes. My room was tucked into a fence on the side of the house, and the fence was lined with purple iris. In the early summer, I would open my windows so I could let the breeze carry in their candy sweet smell. Royal, ruffled purple petals traced with bright yellow – I love them. So did my mother in love, who is now deceased. I can’t see iris without thinking of her.

A few years ago I sent some iris bulbs to her widower, my sweet dad in love. He planted them alongside the cabin they had brought back to life, from roots over a hundred years old. I bought the purple blooms she loved so much, but when they blossomed the next year, they were pure white. I am humbled to see these pure blossoms, which now represent her freedom from this life.

Lilac bushes were absolutely cherished by me as well- every year I longed for them to bloom. I can still see them waving in the breeze, floating their warm perfume in the air. I’d make a vase of cuttings and bring them into the house, so I could enjoy them both inside and outside.

Try as I might, I cannot get any variety of either flower to grow in the hot sauna I live in – but I have a dream list of flowers I will be planting when we retire and move north of here, God willing.

In the mean time, I look for the beauty around me. The crepe myrtle that prolifically scatters it’s petals like confetti all summer. The honeysuckle that winds its way through the kudzu. The Rose of Sharon bush that mimics the luscious hibiscus potted nearby.

I celebrate life in the beauty of the seasonal blooms.

I want to start by saying I’m grateful for insulin that keeps me alive.

I’m thankful for the Dexcom and Omnipod technology that helps me manage my type 1 diabetes.

But. I’m. Exhausted.

The last three nights I have battled dangerously low blood sugar. Friday I told my husband that if I pass out or start seizing, give me glucagon and call 911. Not amusing. Scary!

My Dexcom has been loudly alerting me to my low blood sugar. Waking me when the rebound hours later goes to high. Repeat.

I’m exhausted.

I’m trying to at least meet my Apple Watch fitness goals daily. I am staring at my Bellicon rebounder right now, trying to get the gumption to get on it and get to work.

But I’m exhausted.

This by far has been the hardest part of diabetes – I want to not feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, but I’m wrung out almost all the time. I’m eating low carb, I’m adjusting my pump settings, I’m trying.

There are hundreds – if not thousands – of things that affect my blood sugar.

It’s daunting.

I’m not giving up.

I’m getting up and exercising.

Then I’m going to bed.

It’s a very rainy day today. On days like this, my favorite thing to do is disappear into a book. Sitting on the couch with a lap quilt, drinking tea, and listening to the rain in the background as I read is my happy place.

My mother instilled in me a gift that will keep giving all of my days – my love of reading.

As far back as I can remember, my mom has been a voracious reader. She always had a book that she was reading – always.

As a small child, I began to mirror her behavior. I started reading a lot as soon as I was able. It was my favorite summer pastime.

I had a ritual that I modeled after what I read in “A Tree Grows In Brooklyn”. I didn’t have a stoop under a spindly tree to read beneath, but I did have an adult sized bean bag chair. I would get a small plate down, put a few saltine crackers, some cheese, and a pickle on it. I’d get a tall glass of water, and the current novel I was reading, and I’d nestle into the bean bag, until I found a cozy spot. There I spent hours reading, snacking on my salty snack, reading as fast as my mind would let me.

I still reread some of my favorite books from my adolescence, as it is like visiting an old friend. It’s always bittersweet having to say goodbye to these fictional characters as I come to the end of the story.

Reading is a great gift – and a love of reading is a wonderful thing to foster in your children or grandchildren.

Alas, anxiety and worry go hand in hand.

I struggle sometimes with anxiety. Knowing this, I practice a lot of mindfulness. I am careful to avoid triggers that will set my mind off. If I’m feeling anxious, I avoid caffeine. Keeping my blood sugars as stable as I am able to also helps, as well as doing some light exercise.

Sometimes, however, I get blindsided. Out of the blue I see or hear something that jolts my mind, and then it’s off to the races.

If it gets bad enough, more problems ensue – headaches and insomnia being the main players.

This is why I try to nip it in the bud when I am able.

Worry makes its entry when I’m caught off guard. My mind begins going around, ruminating on the worst case scenarios. Often, I will pray silently, or sing hymns, if I catch myself worrying. This tends to be a much repeated tactic.

It’s much easier said than done.

It’s taken years of therapy, meds, and experience to deal with acute bouts of anxiety that lead to worry.

The struggle continues.

I’m sitting with my husband and son, content.

It’s a good feeling. I am, at this moment, at peace.

My crazy life has been slowing down. Last September, I resigned from my full time job of almost eleven years. I was commuting around 8 hours a week on top of the 12+ hour days.

After that, I downshifted into an office job, four days a week. I worked this job until mid-June.

Then we decided to let me take some time to heal, and to rest.

It’s doing me a world of good, on every level.

I’ve always been an observant person, but now that I am not racing through life, I am enjoying the observations I am making every day.

Take today as an example. I awoke early this morning to a puppy’s insistence to go outside. As I sat on the log bench watching her saunter around the yard, the morning light had me getting up to investigate. I was delighted to find a beautiful sunrise highlighting the undulating clouds. For a few minutes, I just breathed and took in the cool air, the golden sky, the playful puppy.

Tonight, we watched the local farm team play baseball. I spent as much time watching flags snap in the occasional breeze, the light chop in the bay, and the play of the children around me, and the contrast of manicured grass and the red clay field.

Even in the visit to the drive through restaurant tonight to pick up food for our son, I smiled as I saw sherbet colored trumpet flowers draping down the barrier hedgerow just outside my window. I imagined the delight of hummingbirds finding these fluted blooms.

When I was busy, I noticed things occasionally. Now that I have slowed down, I am grateful for all the small, wonderful things that I can appreciate and enjoy.

Tomorrow it will be 30 days since I picked up Molly to begin fostering her.

Molly was part of a litter born with no home, to a feral mom that someone probably dumped on the side of the road one day in a rural area. Many attempts to catch and spay the mama dog have occurred, to no avail. Molly was part of a trio of pups destined for suffering.

The first stop was to her rescuers home. JB bathed and bathed the flea riddled pups, removing nests of fleas from the suffering seven week old babies.

Next the puppy went to respite, into the home of a veteran foster mom. For a week, she received love, deworming, and flea medicine.

The call was put out for foster homes for the pups. As soon as I saw her picture, my heart was broken. So at eight weeks old and just five pounds of fluff, the puppy came to our house so we could foster her.

This rescue is all foster volunteers, and that love and devotion has a great success rate. It is not, however, without work!

I named her Molly, and set about socializing, crate training, and growing this little pup.

My Aussie, Mitzi, is a natural mother, though she has never had a litter of her own. She taught Molly the things puppies need to know from Mama dogs.

Molly loves to wake up around 0500, and that’s been tough – but she is being crate trained, so I arose and ran her out, Mitzi by her side.

30 days tomorrow.

I’d be lying if I said my heart isn’t breaking a little bit to know that tomorrow, she goes to her forever home. She’s so confident and social and SAFE with us. She’s already overcome so much, and now she is starting over.

She’s 12 weeks old now, and has tripled in size since we got her. She’s had great food, exercise, and lots of play. Of course, she’s been very much loved.

Ah, Molly girl, you have touched our hearts. Godspeed as you go to your new home – the application has been vetted, the home study has been done. The contract is signed, and you will be spayed at 4-6 months, microchipped, and given all the necessary vaccinations.

We wish you happiness and much love. Thank you for letting us share your world for 30 days.

“Where is my pancreas!” is something that I say often. Believe me, it is not something I ever expected I would be saying.

Since October of last year, I have been wearing an insulin pump (Omnipod), and a CGM (continuous glucose monitor – Dexcom). If I have to do this diabetes thing, I’m going to try and keep things under the best control possible.

Both devices are blue tooth, and both have PDM’s (personal diabetes managers) that they transmit to. Both PDM’s are housed in a small bag that I call my pancreas. Frankly, that’s how this little bag is functioning.

When I want to know what my current blood sugar is, I glance at the Dexcom PDM, or at my iPhone or Apple Watch, to get the most recent reading. When I eat, I have to put my blood sugar and carbs in the Omnipod PDM so it will figure out how much insulin to give me, and dose accordingly.

You lucky souls who have a pancreas that is inside your body that does this for you – say your thanks.

My pancreas also holds insulin, an extra pod, syringes (lest the pods should fail), alcohol wipes, AAA batteries, test strips, and my lancet, the better to poke my fingers with. It was a lot easier when my pancreas worked.

Around six years ago, my pancreas started to poop out. Mistakenly told by my doctor that it was type 2 diabetes, I lost 30 pounds, and began to EXERCISE. Yes, the former hater of all things active began to run.

My pancreas was grateful, and continued to chug along for five more years.

Alas, last year I had to start insulin. So I started to investigate, and discovered even old gals like me could get type 1 diabetes. So I asked to be referred to an endocrinologist. August 16, 2017, I was told what I already knew – I had type 1 diabetes, not type 2.

MDI (multiple dose injections) of insulin got old quickly, as did the accompanying poking of my fingertips. So I turned to technology. Thus the paisley pancreas was born!! (www.sugarmedical.com)

I LITERALLY do not go anywhere without it. I’m getting better at remembering it – after turning my car around and heading home on more than one occasion. Because it’s Bluetooth, it has to be in the vicinity of my person, and connected devices.

I also carry glucose tabs (yucky!!) and small pouches of candy (yummy!) everywhere. I love going to events and having my bag searched – try to take my candy, lady!! Ah, it’s the little things now.

In closing, I really would love to see a cure for diabetes. I cannot imagine being a child with this mess of a disease, or the parent of a child. It’s a LOT to deal with. I thank God every day for insulin.

It literally keeps me alive.