On The Road

I truly have a room with a view. Deer, pine trees, my garden. Not everyone gets to wake up in the country. On a country road. 20160907_181859

Some mornings it’s me, God and the cows. On the road. 20160901_082559Sometimes we have quiet moments when I just listen for His voice. Sometimes I hear…silence. Sometimes He speaks to me by revealing Himself in nature.


Then, other times, I reveal my nature… the one He already knows. I scream. I cry. I laugh. I run. Figuratively. Literally. I run. On the road. The County Road. The Road to Recovery.

On The Road.

B is for Plan B

When A is for Adrenal Fatigue, most of the time B is for Plan B.B

Plan B. A Noachian new beginning. After the flood … of tears.

Plan B. Because I thought I could just go get the problem fixed.

No Plan B. No inoculation. No Band-Aid. No surgery.

Not even direct medical advice. Plan B means a eulogy to old thoughts, over thoughts. Half baked. Resonating. Meditating. Over thoughts.

Plan B sometimes means just doing things differently. The grammar word most used can be, needs to be and will have to be: NO. No, because you need a nap. No, because you are so tired your brain doesn’t rest from the what-if.

So, what is this beast, Adrenal? A monster that overacts. A monster that under-acts. Crucial, necessary evil. Adrenal glands are responsible for many functions, including controlling the body’s fight-or-flight responses, hormones, and control parts of human development. Additional hormones from the adrenal glands function in metabolism, blood pressure regulation, and many other normal functions in several different organ systems. In other words, it affects A LOT!

What makes this versatile gland go haywire? Crisis. Stress. Lack of sleep. Chronic infections. This gland gives us extra surges of getty-up-and-go! After many withdrawals from this bank of energy, the depository is bankrupt. Kaput!


A for Adrenal Fatigue


I discovered Adrenal fatigue during my time after the Great move to the country, fleeing for some much need simpler times and time tables and timeout.A I couldn’t make a great case with a little of this and little of that in the stress of my life’s situations individually, but when added up and maintained and perpetuated is and was a formula for a perfect storm.

Perfect rest in moving to the country was the plan. Yes, air and acres is not what I needed. Sunshine was not available through the trees, the reason the Knight wanted the house. A sin to one so depressed, provoking further plunging into lack of vitamin D. A fog strangely fading the view to the outside world. Hindering, really, true rest, suffering to get to socialize even more, contrasting the actual leading to the country.

Knowing the place is doing some good, less neighbors, box houses and peoples. For a year, we walked between two worlds, traveling to church and comfort, discouraged by the miles and the time and the weather. The decision to settle: calling. Not knowing how to express the pendulum of emotions.

I used to feel “if we moved, it would be better”. Harmonious, country living. Norman Rockwell’ish. But the inhabitants of the area had been in the trenches of war and childbirth and teens and deaths and education: together. A lovely arabesque shade of subculture. The formless symbiotic culture we were not apart. It tires one who is not. My heart longs to seize to be part of the glob. Hedges and walls like an English garden yet, not so delicate and dainty, that’s what I constructed. My finicky reactions to my historicity and turmoil. Alone. Feeling met with heavy opposition to being a part.

These are the emotions that led me to seek help. To seek sunshine. Not outside beyond the trees, but sunshine outside in the community. Son-shine was lost, for these were to have been His. Hope lost. Faith a struggle.

Seeking help makes one feel how unaware and how weary when marking all the ailments on the list. Check marks staining my history onto the paper. Sculpting a form of me. The broken me.

Then. The diagnosis. Adrenal Failure.


A to Z Blog Challenge Reveal

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Well, I’m two days late and a few more dollars behind, also, for the big theme reveal.




Last year I journaled and journeyed through our Gluten Free transition. I checked out cookbooks from the library, annoyed friends and spent hours pouring over ingredients lists on labels. Now, our family is just outside of a year of being recipe testing, guinea pigs. I can even look at a recipe now and adjust according to our tastes. I wouldn’t have survived without internet friends and a family that tolerated a few less than tasteful concoctions. I also would like to give kudos to Nicole over at GlutenFreeOnAShoestring. She is a wonderful chef and extraordinary kitchen scientist.

As my journey continues to being a healthier me, I knew there was more to my health issues than gluten. April’s Challenge will be  my literal roller coaster ride into understanding Adrenal Dysfunction. As I unveil my struggles with chronic symptoms, remember, this is my journey. Adrenal Dysfunction manifests itself physically and psychologically different in each individual. If you are struggling with unexplained symptoms, see your doctor. See a nutritionist. If you just don’t recognized yourself, seek help. I pray my journey will help you in your journey.



A to Z Blog Challenge

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It’s that time of year again. I think this is my 4th year. Last year I was short two letters Y and the dreaded Z. I wrote faithfully about our journey through going Gluten Free. I had some fun. Tried some new recipes. Failed at a few. But, over the year I think I’ve become a darn good GF chef.

Next week is the great reveal. I’ll be writing my little fingers off and trying to run the WAY Words and Youth Teen Writing conference at the same time. It should be a … Challenge. In the meantime, don’t forget to check back to see the reveal.

Show Up

Wednesday I showed up. For Life. 2016-02-28 13.18.22

No Computer. No social media.

No Facebook. No hard feelings.

No prejudices. No broken heart.

No to the voices. No to the mania.

No to-do list. No drowning.

No chasing impossible. No spinning out of control.

No outbursts. No need for a nap.

Yes to kids’ faces. Yes to clean house.

Yes to laundry catch-up. Yes to Easter decorations.

Yes to seeing the dinning room table. And the kitchen island, also.

Yes to self. Yes to sit down lunch.

Yes to date night with kids at church. Yes to Bible study.

Yes to JOY. Yes to PEACE.



POV is something an author does really well… or doesn’t. Does the author stick to one POV or head hop? Do your favorite authors change chapters with character changes, add a chapter graphic dividefrom_my_point_of_view_king_681795r or just jump characters? My preference while reading is the chapter change.

For the slow reader, for the beach reader, for the cozy mystery reader, they don’t want to have to flip back a page to figure out who is talking, who is thinking.

This brought up a fun discussion in the car with my WriterGirl, my 12-year-old who will probably be published before I am. We’re talking POV (Point of View). We’re discussing first and third mostly. What is omniscient? We’ve discussed in the past how, yes, I know I’m going to get hate mail, that I’m NOT a fan of “The Hobbit”. Hobbits, head hopping throughout the book. I know it’s a classic. I know right now the Hobbit and its Rings characters are the thing now. Preference.

We were discussing how each of the voices is helpful to obtain information about the character, the scene and possible foreshadowing details. The discussion ensues into:

Well, if you don’t get the voice right then the reader will throw the book across the floor and talk up the author’s inability to write. If the author doesn’t get the voice right, the reader may lose their religion (and let loose a few sailor words) and talk back to the book. If the plot doesn’t pull the reader along because the characterization is horrible the book goes back to the library or to the Goodwill or the forbidden place: the trash. And then the author’s well intention, published, life force, blood, sweat and tears gets a bad review and then the author is forced to work at the corner 7-11 and burn his books for firewood because he can’t feed his family.

Crickets… from the backseat of the car.

Me: Oh, I guess I better make sure I get my point of view correct while writing my book.

Kids: (awkward giggle)