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For most people, camping falls into two categories: the kind where you load up a backpack and hike/scramble/stumble your way to a backcountry campsite, and the kind where you load up your car or truck and drive to a campsite, usually in a designated campground. We’ll just ignore the RV type for the moment, as I’m enough of a camping snob to believe that four walls, a roof and a hinged door do not equal “camping.”

There is another category, however, that can bridge the gap between backpacking and car camping: motorcycle camping, or moto-camping as my friends and I call it. Camping off a motorcycle certainly doesn’t need to include backcountry roads and trails; I have a friend who crossed the country on his Yamaha FZ-09, pulling off at roadside campgrounds or pitching his tent on the property of friendly locals. If you ride one of today’s capable adventure bikes, however, a whole new world opens up to you. Many designated backcountry roads and trails are gated for ATV and motorcycle use only, so if it’s true solitude and a roof of Milky Way-swathed stars you’re after, load up, grab a map from the local National Forest or BLM station, and head out.

We like beer too, but bringing the whole cooler might be overkill...
We like beer too, but bringing the whole cooler might be overkill…

I was a backpacker long before I discovered moto-camping, and as such I tend to think and pack like a backpacker. For this list I’ve left out the obvious “appropriate tent, sleeping bag, sleeping pad, spork” items, and instead I’m focusing on tips and tricks that I’ve discovered (learn from my mistakes, trust me, it’s easier) and items I’ve found to be especially helpful when camping off a motorcycle.

1 – Ziplock bags

I like to carry quart-sized bags to hold my phone, fire starter (see #3), matches, snacks and any other small items I don’t want to get wet. I bring along gallon-sized bags to stow trash, marinate meat for dinner, and even carry extra water (don’t skimp, buy the good freezer storage kind).

2 – Multi-tool (with corkscrew!)

This one is pretty self-explanatory: knife, screwdriver, can opener, pliers…a decent multi-tool is a must for any motorcycle road trip. Mine has a corkscrew for the inevitable bottle I pick up as we cruise through wine country.

No, those aren't cookies, they're fire starters.
No, those aren’t cookies, they’re fire starters.

3 – Fire starter

Yes, newspaper is cheap, but it’s also bulky. For a few dollars, you can buy fire starter that’s small and easy to carry, and it works way better. Check out Zippo’s Fire Starter Puck ($1.95/one puck, enough for 4 fires) or Lightnin’ Bug ($2.95/pack of 8, available at REI).

4 – Nalgene bottle

Nalgene bottle

Perfect for that post-ride campfire beverage. To me, whisky (or whiskey) and campfires go together like peas and carrots, and the plastic Nalgene is lighter than glass and non-breakable, plus it’s safe for short-term alcohol storage.

5 – Extra tarp

You should already be using a ground cloth under your tent, to protect the floor from sharp rocks and other hazards, but I like to bring another small tarp, especially on trips to wet or muddy areas. This gives you a clean, dry place to sit, put down your helmet, lay out clothes, etc. Also, it prevents the clothes changing dance–you know what I mean, when you’re pulling off boots and riding pants, and trying not to put a stocking foot down in the mud or dirt. Better to bring along a designated dance floor.

Hard luggage is versatile: it can double as chairs, tables...or coolers! We discovered that two six-packs of beer fit perfectly in each SW-Motech side case. It should be noted that we likely exceeded the manufacturer's stated load rating, however, so we don't recommend this for more than a quick shuttle trip.
Hard luggage is versatile: it can double as chairs, tables…or coolers! We discovered that two six-packs of your favorite beverage fit perfectly in each SW-Motech side case. It should be noted that we likely exceeded the manufacturer’s stated load rating, however, so we don’t recommend this for more than a quick shuttle trip.

6 – Clorox wipes

To reduce the amount of water I have to carry or use, I clean my hands and wipe down dishes with disinfecting wipes. A quick splash of water afterwards is enough to rinse off any leftover bleach residue. Stash dirty wipes in one of your Ziplock bags to transport to the next trash bin you come across.

Black Diamond Spot
Black Diamond Spot

7 – LED headlamp

I prefer headlamps to flashlights; they free up your hands and most also feature dimmers and red LEDs for middle-of-the-night bathroom runs. Petzl and Black Diamond are two of the most popular and high-quality brands; I use the Black Diamond Spot ($39.95) for its bang-for-the-buck and robust ability to withstand being tossed around in panniers.

8 – JetBoil Flash

JetBoil Flash
JetBoil Flash

My backcountry cooking is typically pretty simple; maybe it’s my years of backpacking, but I’ve found that modern freeze-dried meals have come a long way towards being not only edible, but quite delicious. Plus prep and clean-up are easy. If you’re a minimalist like me, the JetBoil Flash ($99.95) is the only camp stove you’ll need. It does one thing, but it does it very, very well: boil water. Two cups of it in just under two minutes, in fact. Perfect for meals, coffee and hot cocoa. Best of all, it packs down into a very compact self-contained package.

9 – REI/Helinox camp chairs

Helinox Chair One Camp Chair
Helinox Chair One Camp Chair

One thing you don’t want to lug around on a bike is a big, heavy chair. A company called Helinox happens to make some of the best camp chairs out there, and they pack down small enough to easily fit into a pannier or duffel. For a similar chair at roughly half the price, take a look at REI’s Flex Lite Chair ($79.50). Both the Helinox and REI models are small, lightweight and hold at least 250 lbs.

10 – A book from our Top 10 Motorcycle Adventure Books List

Relax next to the campfire with a good book, and get inspired for your next adventure!

  1. Just returned from a 4 day moto-camping trip to the Redwoods, 763 miles round trip. Amazing!!
    2 up with my wife on the back.

  2. Sarah
    Started riding Yamaha XT 225 and DR 650 at age 60. Now at 63 just purchased Yamaha XT250 just returned from two weeks of riding off road in Murphy, NC. Awesome trails up, down and around beautiful mountains. Amazing!

  3. #3- cotton balls smeared with petroleum jelly make excellent fire starters. Lint from the dryer mixed with pj works great too.

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Are you a fan of Frozen and Orange Is The New Black? Well then, this is for you…actually, you don’t really need to be a fan of either to be thoroughly entertained by this new mashup, created by animator and comedian Leigh Lahav.

As the story goes… Elsa must serve time in princess prison for freezing the kingdom of Arendelle. She’s joined by fellow Disney princess inmates including Ariel, Mulan and Belle.  According to Leigh, the other princesses landed in jail due to the following brushes with the law…

Ariel: Accomplice in murder
Pocahontas: Political protest
Merida: Attempted murder
Mulan: Fraud (Impersonation)
Snow White: Work without a permit violation
Rapunzel: Murder
Belle: Accomplice in murder/Beast-iality
Not sure what Tiana, Jasmin AND Cinderella did. But it’s probably horrible just like the rest!

Oh… be sure you stick it out till the end… priceless!

If you love this, you can view more of Leigh’s brilliant work here.

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Total Number of words made out of Adonis = 61

Adonis is an acceptable word in Scrabble with 7 points. Adonis is an accepted word in Word with Friends having 8 points. Adonis is a 6 letter medium Word starting with A and ending with S. Below are Total 61 words made out of this word.

Anagrams of adonis

1). danios

5 letter Words made out of adonis

1). adios 2). danio 3). donas

4 letter Words made out of adonis

1). ands 2). dais 3). nods 4). dins 5). nodi 6). naos 7). dona 8). dons 9). naoi 10). ions 11). anis 12). sain 13). aids 14). soda 15). sand 16). ains 17). said 18). sadi 19). ados

3 letter Words made out of adonis

1). son 2). ion 3). sod 4). sin 5). nod 6). sad 7). ons 8). nos 9). ins 10). ado 11). ais 12). ani 13). ain 14). din 15). dis 16). aid 17). and 18). ids 19). ods 20). ads 21). dos 22). don

2 letter Words made out of adonis

1). si 2). ai 3). id 4). an 5). so 6). os 7). is 8). na 9). no 10). do 11). as 12). od 13). on 14). ad 15). in

Also see:-

Words starting with Adonis

Adonis Meaning :- A youth beloved by Venus for his beauty. He was killed in the chase by a wild boar. A preeminently beautiful young man; a dandy. A genus of plants of the family Ranunculaceae- containing the pheasant's eye (Adonis autumnalis

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Note: There are 1 anagrams of the word adonis. Anagrams are meaningful words made after rearranging all the letters of the word.
Search More words for viewing how many words can be made out of them
Note There are 3 vowel letters and 3 consonant letters in the word adonis. A is 1st, D is 4th, O is 15th, N is 14th, I is 9th, S is 19th, Letter of Alphabet series.

Wordmaker is a website which tells you how many words you can make out of any given word in english. we have tried our best to include every possible word combination of a given word. Its a good website for those who are looking for anagrams of a particular word. Anagrams are words made using each and every letter of the word and is of the same legth as original english word. Most of the words meaning have also being provided to have a better understanding of the word. A cool tool for scrabble fans and english users, word maker is fastly becoming one of the most sought after english reference across the web.


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Total Number of words made out of Vas = 2

Vas is an acceptable word in Scrabble with 6 points. Vas is an accepted word in Word with Friends having 7 points. Vas is a 3 letter short Word starting with V and ending with S. Below are Total 2 words made out of this word.

2 letter Words made out of vas

1). as

Also see:-

Words starting with Vas
Words ending with Vas
Words Containing Vas

Vas Meaning :- A vessel; a duct.

Words made from adding one letter in the Beginning of vas

Words made from adding one letter at the End of vas

vasa vase vast

Words made after changing First letter with any other letter in vas

aas bas fas gas has kas las mas pas ras tas was

Words made after changing Last letter with any other letter in vas

vac van var vat vau vav vaw

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Scrabble finder
Words with friends finder
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Note: . Anagrams are meaningful words made after rearranging all the letters of the word.
Search More words for viewing how many words can be made out of them
Note There are 1 vowel letters and 2 consonant letters in the word vas. V is 22th, A is 1st, S is 19th, Letter of Alphabet series.

Wordmaker is a website which tells you how many words you can make out of any given word in english. we have tried our best to include every possible word combination of a given word. Its a good website for those who are looking for anagrams of a particular word. Anagrams are words made using each and every letter of the word and is of the same legth as original english word. Most of the words meaning have also being provided to have a better understanding of the word. A cool tool for scrabble fans and english users, word maker is fastly becoming one of the most sought after english reference across the web.


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We are Not Alone

But I do hope there are a few who find inspiration in my authenticity, connection in my vulnerability,  and value in my narrative, for this is how we, as humans, understand each other. This is how we, as humans, recognize that we are not alone.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved to read.  When I was a kid and would spend weekends at my grandmothers, my cousins would give me a hard time for having my nose stuck in a book.

“You’re such a bookworm,” they would razz.

Remember Sweet Valley High? I read a few…

It’s true.   I can’t stay awake long enough to read an ACTUAL book these days, though.  Instead I listen to audio books I borrow from the library.  I have listened to hundreds of them.  Audio books are an even better choice for  me since they feed my need to multi-task.  I can listen and drive, listen and fold laundry, listen and paint…It is so satisfying to do something you love while you do something you hate–listen and clean, for example.

I  also really like quotes.  Inspirational quotes or funny quotes, sports quotes…it doesn’t matter.  There  is always a quote out there that communicates whatever message I want to send.  I used quotes to send messages of inspiration when I worked with students in my old job.  I had a student who was in jail at one point and that was our thing; I sent him a special quote, one I thought he would identify with and encourage him to hang in there.

Also at my old job,  I would get a quote a day from this website called Values.com.  If I got a quote I particularly liked, I sent it out to the rest of the colleagues in our department.  You know, I thought it was a nice thing to share.  One day my supervisor was like, “So what’s up with the quotes anyway?  Who do you think we are, Hallmark?”

One of my favorite quotes by Nelson Mandela

I stopped forwarding them after that.  Clearly, he didn’t appreciate my inspiration.  Ha!

When my goal of being a teacher crashed and burned–that was during my senior year of college  (a  story for a later blog) I got to experience a fifth year of college.  I’m sure many of you can relate to the 5 year plan, right?

For me,  a 5th year of school was one of the best things that ever happened.   I played another year of basketball, I met my husband, and I enrolled in a bunch of writing classes.

I wasn’t interested in writing, but my  life had just blown up.  The only career choice I had ever known was off the table.  And I was an English major!  The only classes  left in my major were writing or communications classes.  So writing it was.

I also spent extra time in class with my basketball teammate and now world-famous, Andrea Gibson.  If you don’t know who she is, you should google her.  She was awesome in college and I am glad the world knows her now, too.  Granted, we had no idea she was such a talented writer and performer, but we were not surprised to learn of it.  She is pretty awesome.

The discovery that I actually enjoyed writing  wasn’t a HUGE  surprise either.  College was the gift that kept on giving.  I was finding out more and more about myself and I just added writing to the list.

So far, I discovered that on the court I could, in fact, play defense in addition to shooting a helluva 3-point shot.   I sucked at teaching. Not really, but you know, long story.   I was really an extrovert (who knew?!).  Boys kinda dug me, in fact there was even this one boy who really, REALLY dug me (except he was shorter than me), I was going to have student loans for the rest of my life, and I STILL had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up.

But hey, at least I could write.  *sigh*

Well, flash forward 20 years later and here I am,  married to that short boy with 2 kids,  both of whom, at 12 and 18 are taller than he, a topic which is also a fun discussion in our home.

That short boy (he will love reading about himself being called this) also led me to something else I love: My Etsy Shop.

My Etsy shop is something I have grown to love more than I could ever begin to write about.  Maybe that’s because Andrea and I skipped the class that focused on emotional descriptors.  Or, more likely it’s because the description has become way more than words can describe.   Andrea and I only skipped one class and we got in trouble for it. The nuns at my college did not appreciate skippers.  Especially skippers who were on the basketball team.  Welp.

I have told this story before, but pre-Etsy life, Corey (that’s my husband’s actual NAME), was working at the one casino we have in our community.  He  worked there for a number of years. He had been promoted several times, was making decent money, and earned himself decent bonus checks each year.

The money was nice, but the bonus checks, ROCKED.  We used those for our extras.  Paid off a car, went on vacation, remodeled our house… But Corey hated the job.  It was really stressful.  He worked long days.  He was on-call when he wasn’t working.  He worked weekends and holidays–holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas.  He put on a lot of weight because he would stress eat.  He wasn’t healthy.  He wasn’t happy.

I encouraged him to look for another job, but he was reluctant because the pay and the benefits were so good.  He was the provider, after all.

Finally push came to shove and Corey had a choice.  The casino was downsizing.  He could take another position or he could be laid off.

He chose to be done.  It was the best choice.  But that left us a little out of control.  And that’s not good for me.  I like to fix, remember?   I’m a fixer.  I am the Olivia Pope of the Smith family.

Side note:  Except I am not this season’s Olivia Pope.  I am not Command.  I wear and will always wear the white hat.

My fixing brought me to Etsy.  I had done a little research.  Quotes and words on signs was just becoming big; there wasn’t much of it being done by hand.  I had done a little painting here and there.  I had nice hand writing.  I figured, what the hell?

One of the first 8 paintings I put up on Etsy. No one ever bought it. Hahaha

And I launched WorDSMITHstudios.

The first paintings I did were horrible.   I look back at them now and I can’t even believe it.  I think Corey was thinking I was a little crazy, too.  Crazy like, whothehellisgoingtobuythatshit, crazy.   Even still, I sold my first painting the very first day I went live.  And I have been painting ever since.

The biggest surprise, and I continue to be surprised, is that I expected Etsy sales to be a transaction on a website, a sale between 2 people who never meet, talk, or interact. However, it has been so much more than that.

Etsy is about relationships.  It has been about sharing stories about loved ones or about love lost.  It has been about connecting over children and the challenges we have in raising them, about being moms and feeling guilty when we work, or when we don’t.

Some of the work I am doing now. MUCH better.

Etsy has been about supporting each other in our craft, looking out for each other and the work we do to create  a community of talent and sharing it with others across the world.

I am not going to get rich off my art.  That’s ok.  But I will be rich in my soul from the tremendous amount of fulfillment the love of this craft brings me.

It’s the same kind of fulfillment writing this blog brings me.  I won’t be a famous writer.  Thousands of people won’t read my thoughts.  I certainly won’t be going on tour with Andrea any time soon, sharing her stage with my spoken word.  But I do hope there are a few who find inspiration in my authenticity, connection in my vulnerability,  and value in my narrative, for this is how we, as humans, understand each other.

This is how we, as humans,  recognize that we are not alone.

This is how we create relationships and relationships are where we find meaning in our lives.  It’s where we find love, happiness,and hope.

Because life is about relationships.

You Love Winter? I Call Bulls#&t.

Sure, sledding is fun.  I used to have fun sledding, too.  But I also remember being cold and wet and peeing my pants.

wordsmithstudios.orgWell, we just endured another Nor’ester in Maine.  This one, THE worst of the season,  came on the heels of last week’s “worst of the season.”  I have been  thinking  about how much I hate winter.  I especially hate it this time of year, when we have already had our fill of Nor’easters and are just ready to put our feet on some soft green grass, look up at clear blue sky, and hear the birds sing.

Then out of nowhere, I  heard someone say, “I loooovvve winter!” in my head.  I jumped and looked around because I don’t even know who said it!  It just trilled in my head and knocked around a little, you know, like the ball in a pinball machine?  Maybe it was Big Mouth Denise  trying to antagonize me or maybe it was some ghost from the past, but it freaked me out.  Because seriously,

who the hell in their right mind loves winter?

My front yard after the storm. Yeah, it’s pretty.

I mean, I get that it can be pretty when the snow  comes down and if you are a skier or snowmobiler you get to do those things, but come on, really?  When push comes to shove, do you like winter or are you just making the best of a shitty situation?

Here are a few things I’d like  to remind you of:

  1. Shoveling & snow-blowing. Ok, pretty obvious, we know they suck. If you have to shovel more than a few feet of heavy snow, your back feels it pretty quickly no matter who you are or what your age.

And listen, I call bullshit to those of you out there who say they PREFER snowblowing to plowing.  I understand paying someone to plow can be expensive and purchasing said plow can be an upfront expense many can’t afford.  Hell, I couldn’t afford it.  My Dad bought the plow we have.  He bought the plow and then promptly bought himself a winter home in Florida.

Now as I write this, I even wonder if that plow purchase was a pity purchase?  “Sorry, kid.  I’m going to Florida, but here, I got you your very own plow!  Enjoy!”  Or perhaps it was purchased out of guilt.  “Hey so, we just bought this great place in Florida.  But don’t worry, your Old Man didn’t leave you with nothing.  I got YOU a PLOW!”

In any case, we have it and we appreciate it every time my daughter tells us to get our asses out there and get to plowing. <insert rolling eye emoji>

Anyway,  snow-blowing is not fun.  It’s cold and wet.  And it takes FOREVER.  I don’t care how bad your OCD is, perfectly snow-blown  driveways  or walkways are not worth frozen toes. And if someone were to offer up a warm plow-truck, hot coffee, and sports talk on the radio like my dad did, I find it hard to believe none of you yahoos would accept it.

2. Snow down your boot, back, mitten, neck, pants.  I cringe and get goose bumps even now as I think about it.  It never matters how high my boots are, every time I walk out to my car, snow gets in my boots.  I could wear waders and I would get snow in my boots!

But here’s the thing, in the summer if you stand under the sprinkler or someone douses you with water– THAT  doesn’t feel like you were just stabbed in the foot with 1,000 tiny needles!

credit: word porn

3. Snow flying off someone else’s car and onto your windshield.  I had a friend who actually caught a full windshield of ice from the car in front of him.  It busted his windshield all up.  He wasn’t hurt, fortunately.

Sunshine doesn’t fly off the car in front of you and bust up your windshield.  Enough said.

4. Heating your house, well, unless money grows on trees for you. This is a real issue for us, Mainers.  Where I live the option is oil or electricity.  My parents did just get one of those fancy heat pumps and that seems to be working well for the small apartment they don’t use in the winter.  (Florida, remember?) And of course, there are the alternative forms of energy like solar or wind.

Like I said, reality in my neck of the woods is oil.  My house is pretty new,  making it relatively energy efficient.  It would be even more energy efficient if my husband would just listen to me already and do some simple winterizing in the fall.  Or even in the winter for that matter. (I can’t do everything, ok?). But it still takes a good chunk to heat this place. And I try to keep the thermostat at 69 or 70. Still, my daughter is always complaining she is cold.

The shorts and t-shirt probably don’t help.

What double sucks is our driveway is right in front of where the oil intake is.  So every time there is a snowstorm and we plow,   we (my husband) also have to shovel a path through that gigantic snow pile for the oil guy.

Winter sucks.

5. Raking the roof.  We have a porch on the front of our house.  I love it.  It’s charming and cute and nice to sit and rock on in the summer.  Ya know, when it’s warm?  In the winter, it’s a snow collector.  After a snow storm like the one we just experienced, it holds 2+ feet of snow up there.  My son, whose room overlooks that porch, can’t see out his window.  That porch, which my son views as an escape route in an emergency, becomes a source of fear because if anything happens, he AIN’T getting out.

Snow pile in front of my house with      snow on the porch roof

So we have to rake the roof.  Well of course, we don’t have a roof rake. (That’s how we roll at the Smiths.)  One day I called every hardware store and big box store in a 25 mile radius looking for a roof rake and EVERY SINGLE ONE was sold out.  So I did what I should have done in the first place:  I called my Aunt Bev.

“Of course I have a roof rake,” she said.  Of course she has a roof rake, I said.  DUH.  So I picked it up and promptly spent the next  3 torturous hours pulling and yanking heavy, wet snow from our porch roof, only to have the weather turn warm the next day.

Literally, it was 45 degrees and everything melted.

F’n Maine winters. It’s like Mother Nature just rubbing her power in your face.

I mean, I see all your sledding photos on Facebook with your smiles and happy faces.  Sure, sledding is fun.  I used to have fun sledding, too.  But I also remember being cold and wet and peeing my pants. Yeah, I peed my pants!  I would get to laughing so hard that whoops there it is pee in my pants.  It’s a thing.  Maybe I will write more about it someday, but all you need to know now is that no, I’ve never gotten over it.  Maybe I am a little bitter.  But it definitely isn’t influencing my feelings about winter.

So there.  I listed 5 reasons that winter sucks.  Perhaps I listed 5 of the most obvious reasons.  You could say, “Yeah, Denise, when you say it like that, winter sounds so bad. But you did list like 5 of the WORST things.”  (Spoken in that kind of nasally, whiny voice some people use when they want to argue but they really know they have LOST the argument.)

Not true my friends.  I left a lot out.  I mean, I could have written about dry skin, chapped lips, getting stuck (that’s a big one), falling on the ice, potholes, slippery roads, ridiculous commutes, dirty cars, dirty snow, iced up windshield wipers…

Do I really need to go on?  I mean, didn’t I have you at bulls%@t?

I Still Shower.

Corey says I laugh more. Even though I  shower less.  A lot less.

wordsmithstudios, Chronicles of the Dangerously OptimisticReinvention.  I like the spin that word puts on where I am right now, but I am not sure it really describes my path.  Someone else talked about finding my identity and that could be a little closer to how I feel.

I ruptured my achilles tendon a little over 10 years ago.  I have told the story often because it demonstrates my personality and also *could* be an example for karma, if you believe in such things.

I do.

I was working at our local Job Corps Center  as a career counselor at the time.  I really loved my job there.  Talk about great kids who just needed someone to connect to–I am still connected to some of those great kids, actually.  They aren’t kids anymore.  They have grown up to be wonderful and amazing adults.  That  job was another job I thought I would never leave…haha…it’s always funny where life takes you.

Back when I worked at Job Corps, the population was pretty diverse in relation to where I grew up.   I grew up in a hard working middle class family in rural Maine.  My high school had ONE African American student.  Job Corps had all races and socio-economic classes represented.  There was white middle class America, but there was a lot of representation from rural Maine-specifically poor, rural Maine.  It wasn’t unusual for students to lack running water where they lived or to come from limited access to consistent heat in the winter.

In opposition to that were the students from the cities.  I had students on my caseload from Bridgeport, CT.  New Jersey, Puerto Rico.  Students who were legit members of gangs.  One of my all-time favorite students was a member of the Latin Kings.  Well, technically he was a former member because you can’t be affiliated with a gang and be enrolled in the Job Corps program.  The story was, he had a young daughter who because of his gang status, had literally  been born into the gang.  He had come to Job Corps to get away from all that.

Imagine ME the most naive person on the planet trying  to connect with and gain the trust of ANY of these populations.  Especially those who hail from outside of Maine.

And those were just the surface level demographics.  Of course there is way more to a person than where he/she lives.

I did the only thing I knew I could do I embraced my naivety.  I asked a billion questions and believed everything those kids said.   I supported them and tried to help them create a career plan that worked AND…

I talked smack.

The center had a mostly male population, so that’s what they were doing to each other.  I razzed the SHIT out of them.  In a good way.  I told them about my basketball career.  Talked up  my time in college.   It got them to open up a little.  We talked smack to each other. We connected.  It was fun and we laughed.  Then when they let their guard down,  I would hit them with the hard questions.  (wahahaha- that’s my evil man laugh)

Then in 2007, someone planned a staff/student basketball game.

Then Big Mouth Denise took over and she couldn’t stop.  I talked more smack leading up to that game!  And I had no right to talk so much smack.  I had nothing on these kids.  They were teenagers and had been playing street ball since they were toddlers.  But I just kept talking!  I was gonna shoot the lights out because I was a kick-ass 3 point shooter.

They were probably annoyed.  I didn’t care.  It was really fun.

When the game started, I ran down the court maybe 2 times before I experienced what felt like a hard kick to the back of  my calf.  My friend/co-worker/teammate, Blaine was right behind me.

Friends, I remembered this vividly.  I looked right at him and asked incredulously, “Why the hell did you kick me?”   I don’t remember exactly what he said, but he probably said something like,  “Woman, what are you talking about? I didn’t kick you!”

I limped to the bench and kept trying to stretch out what felt like a charlie horse in my calf muscle.  Every time I tried to get up to go back in, it would seize up and I wouldn’t be able to run.

I blocked out the results of the game, but I’m sure we lost because I couldn’t play. 😉

I walked around for a week on that leg.  It wasn’t until I realized I couldn’t point my toe that I grasped the significance of the situation.  I googled it and, yup,  I had the symptoms of a ruptured Achilles.  Right down to the feeling of being kicked.  Go figure.

Because I waited so long to go to the doc, my tendon had creeped up inside my leg.  I had emergency surgery and  had to wear a cast from my hip to my toes for about 6 weeks.  Then I had a boot and crutches.  I had months of physical therapy.  I couldn’t work for 3 months.

wordsmithstudios, Chronicles of the dangerously optimistic
Kids sleeping on me when I had my cast on my leg

That time was really hard; I did experience a loss of purpose.  I couldn’t do anything.  I had a 2 year old and a 7 year old at the time, neither of which I could really care for.  It was winter and the doctor didn’t really want me to go out for fear that I would slip and put pressure on my leg.

I remember feeling sad and depressed and I remember my friends being worried for me.  I didn’t recognize it at the time, but looked back and articulated it as that loss of purpose.  The loss of contact with the world and what I felt happy doing. I wasn’t getting the ongoing give and take from the students that I was accustomed to or the social interaction I needed from the adults in my life.

Not only that, but I felt like I was failing those I had worked so hard to create relationships.  I wasn’t there to intervene or help when they were having moments of crisis.  I was finding out about students being terminated and sent home.  That favorite Latin King I told you about?  He had caused a pretty big incident on center that involved the police.  I was sick that maybe if I had been at work I could have done something to prevent incidents like that.

Nothing seemed to be going my way.  My smack talking couldn’t have brought on that much negative Karma, could it?

Those were the feelings I described to people when I told that story.  You know, back when I had The Universe by the balls?  That’s why I told the story.  I thought I was relating to people  who couldn’t work or couldn’t find a job or who changed jobs.  And in my defense, it’s all I knew.  I was being authentic and I wasn’t being patronizing intentionally.  However, I was being patronizing.

Sorry about that.

Flash back to 2018, present day.  I still see many of the people I used to work with before I was laid off.  Quite often they ask me where I am working now.   The question is usually  light-hearted, upbeat, positive.  The relationships I created in that job are strong and people feel comfortable asking.  When I say, “I’m doing some part time work, but I’m mostly I’m home.  I’m really good though.”

The person often seems embarrassed for asking.  I don’t understand.  So then I feel embarrassed for saying , which then makes me feel like I have to make them feel better.  You know, FIX IT?

“It’s ok.” I usually say.  “I am right where I am supposed to be. I’m good.”

“Oh…well, that’s good to hear.  Good for you.”

*Awkward silence.*

I am good.   I don’t feel depressed or angry or confused.  I feel supported.  I go back and forth about whether I have lost my sense of purpose or not.  Perhaps I don’t want to admit it.  I do know I don’t feel like I am making a difference.  I feel like I should be doing something bigger.  I feel like I need a ripple. And there is guilt in that.

Guilt between making a difference and making money.  Both are important in different ways and both create fear in different ways.

But Corey says I laugh more.

Even though I  shower less.  A lot less.

I Used to Be Somebody

I used to be somebody.   I was challenging people as if I had everything together and knew it all, had it all, had The Universe by the balls. What do I do now that I am a nobody?

I used to be somebody

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

When I was working it was a question I asked of  the young people who sat across from me.  These young, insecure, anxious kids were afraid–afraid of failing and afraid of succeeding.  Often I would challenge them with what seemed to me like a simple task, perhaps it was to make a phone call or to arrive to class or work on time or to ask a question during a meeting.

I would say, “Why don’t you ask that question at your next meeting?” or “Why don’t you call your caseworker/RA/supervisor/landlord and ask?” So often the answer would be:

“I can’t.”

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

I have challenged my son the same way, though probably not with the exact same question.   He is is smarter than both my husband and I and very outgoing and articulate.

Frankly, being smarter than me isn’t a huge accomplishment, but my husband, HE is pretty smart.  He won’t admit it, but he kinda has a photographic memory.  I say ‘kinda’ because he often forgets when I ask him to do something, like pick up the shit he leaves laying around or that yesterday I told him why I had to leave early today.  But he remembers almost everything he Googles and reads on Facebook.  And judging by the time he spends on both of those, he has A LOT of stuff stored up in that absorbent, photographic brain of his.

Corey’s excuse about not picking up his mess or remembering my schedule is that I never told him in the first place.  That’s stupid and totally his way of messing with me– if I am questioning myself, I can’t blame him.  (Smart, right??)

Did I really forget to tell him to pick up his crap or did I just say it in my head??  Well…who cares!?  He is a grown man;  he should know better.  That’s my go-to argument anyway.  All the while I am questioning myself in my head because I do have a memory problem and forget just about everything I don’t write down on my hand.

Anyway, Kobe is really smart.  The kid loves documentaries and has watched everything he can on Netflix.  So between that, YouTube, and his iPhone, he has harnessed the internet to educate himself and man, he just KNOWS things.  I shake my head in amazement everyday.

He is also incredibly articulate.

Me as keynote speaker during a local chamber awards dinner

And he does really great in school except for one subject: writing.  There is a reason for this, but it’s a long story and doesn’t really matter.  What matters is he hates his class and doesn’t like to ask for help.  The teacher will specifically ask the students if anyone needs help and he won’t ask for help.  If I ask him why,  he just says,

“I can’t.”

wordsmithstudios; I used to be somebody
When I was in NYC to present at the Federal Reserve

“I can’t,” is so hard for me to hear.  I’m a fixer.  If there is an issue, I hate not being able to FIX IT.   If a challenge comes up in conversation, ANY conversation, I immediately shift  into fix it mode.  My friends will want to vent to me and will have to preface the venting session  with, “Denise, I don’t want you to fix it.  I just want to vent.”  Because they know.  They know for me, it hurts to not SOLVE THE PROBLEM…to take action… to just fix it.

And so here I am, 45 and 3 months into unemployment.  In so many ways I am at peace.  I feel settled at home and continue to enjoy creating a relatively stress free home for my family.   When my husband leaves for work, he even asks what we are having for dinner.  Because he is excited about eating what I make.

Like, when has that ever happened in my 20 years of marriage?

(The answer to that is NEVER, friends.  It has never happened.)

Well, I recently listened to Big Magic, by Elizabeth Gilbert.  I am an audio book listener.  I can’t read anymore.  I just fall asleep.  But I can listen to audio books while I am painting or cleaning or cooking or driving.  So I have listened to a bazillion books.  I LOVE Elizabeth Gilbert.  I loved Eat, Pray, Love.   I connected with that book so deeply. I read it maybe 3 times.  I felt she was literally speaking to me when she wrote it.  I loved her take on spirituality, on God, on life.  I feel like we are friends.

In Big Magic, Liz also asks the question.  She asked me, “Denise, what would you do if you knew you could not fail?  Would you trust yourself, your talents, your work?  Would you put yourself out there and trust that The Universe will provide for you?”

I cried.  I have been busting my ass writing a blog barely anyone reads, marketing mediocre talent in an Etsy shop with mediocre sales.  I just started a PoshMark closet .  I work 10 hours a week for a non-profit that helps juveniles stay out of the justice system.  The most positive feedback I get in a day is that my dinner tasted good.

I used to be somebody.

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

I think that’s what hit me the hardest.  I was asking that question to others and I was asking it while on some pedestal in a holier than thou spot in The Universe believing I was all that and a bag of chips.   Challenging people as if I had everything together and knew it all, had it all, had The Universe by the balls.

Because I was somebody.

What do I do now that I am a nobody?

And I Rise Above

Because I am a fighter.  I am a dreamer.  I am Dangerously Optimistic.  And I rise above.

I was having a bad day yesterday.

I  pride myself on my optimism.  I named my blog Chronicles of the Dangerously Optimistic, didn’t I? I mean, I am truly a glass half filled kind of gal.  I always see the good. I have gotten into trouble many times because I have failed to see the bad.  But yesterday, yesterday I was really feeling shitty. And it obviously showed in my blog post.

I am actually a little embarrassed.

Yesterday I wrote about my ReStart.  Lost my job; blessing in disguise.  You know the story.  The details were just intimate to me.  I wrote about my opportunities.  Annnnnd the challenges.  Because now it’s 2 months in and things are getting harder.  So I wrote about ReTiring from this. Stopping this…

Giving up.

I basically whined. I apologize to the people to read that post.

But I also truly feel like things happen for a reason.   The Universe, it does it’s thing.  So when I saw the word of the day today was “Above,”  I figured The Universe was giving me my chance for ReDemption.

Yesterday, I was ready to give up on blogging.  I was ready to give up on my goal to cultivate my Etsy business.  Yesterday, I was ready to cut bait and run as they say.

Artwork from my Etsy shop WorDSMITHstudios on Etsy.com

I think that’s what they say…

But I am not giving up.  Hell no.  I am just going to work harder.

Because I am a fighter.  I am a dreamer.  I am Dangerously Optimistic.

And I rise above.

That’s kind of what my life is right now. A restart. I am about 8 weeks into life without a job.

RestartThat’s kind of what my life is right now. A restart. I am about 8 weeks into life without a job.

So, I am going to assume, reader, that you haven’t read any of my posts before today.  Not many have, you see.  And that’s ok.  Because part of why I write is for  me.

I will fill you in.  I was laid off from my awesome non-profit gig managing a program that served underprivileged youth.   I did that job for almost 10 years.  I really liked it and those I worked with, but it was demanding and the environment was sometimes hostile.

The work, the program, my team and the participants of the program made what I did worth all the demands of the job and the hostility of the environment.

However, my family often took a backseat.   So when I was abruptly laid-off, my family saw it as a good thing.  They were tired of of being in the backseat.

I think the The Universe decided to step in for all of us.  It pulled me from my vortex of running  and RAGING and just decided to

everything for me to take a breath.  So I could

And surprisingly, unemployment has been going great. I am being a mother.  I am being a wife. My family comes first.  I haven’t been late for almost every appointment because I was rushing from the office.  I have cooked meals that don’t come out of the microwave–I actually cut up vegetables.  My family wants to eat what I cook.

My family is happy and even more surprisingly, I am happy, too. I like being a mother and a wife.  I think everyone was a little nervous at first, including me.  They were afraid I would get bored.

But I am not. Because I am getting my ReStart.

I am pursuing my love of writing and creating art.

I have an Etsy shop.  I started in 2013 and it has been a hobby for me for the last 5 years.  This restart became an opportunity.  An opportunity I embraced with both arms.

Well, I have created all of my social media accounts.  I am pinning on Pinterest like a mad woman.  I am blogging every week.

Painting.  Writing.  Restarting.

And things seem to be moving!  My Instagram followers have doubled.  My presence  and impressions on Pinterest continue to increase.   My stats and views on Etsy keep growing as I add pieces.  1000 people read my first blog post.

And 50 read my second.  WAHHHHH.

And no one is buying.  I haven’t had an Etsy sale in over a month.

And now the mortgage is due and the cell phone bill is due and the credit card bill is due and I am beginning to wonder if this whole restart thing was a good idea after all.

Now I just feel fear.  Now I am beginning to see my restart as more like  restrain.  Repress.  Reduce.

We’ll need an arsenal if there is a zombie apocalypse.

America, gun violence is a thing.  Having too many guns IS A THING.  And America is known for it. Guns cannot be more important than human beings. Life is about relationships. Let’s start creating some.

Dear America,

I don’t know what’s happened to you. I watch the news and I see chaos.  I watch CNN and see clips of protests—protests I am used to watching happen in other countries—I read my Facebook feed and read friendships and families divided.  People are being deported, politicians can’t do their jobs, women are outing their harassers after (sometimes) YEARS of inexcusable behavior.  And our kids are afraid to go to school because they might get shot down as they learn their ABC’s or algebra.

Admittedly, America looks and feels a lot messier than we want it to, but I am thankful we still live in a free country.  It is nice to know that unless I am on the FBI’s Most Wanted List, just broke out of jail,  am criminally connected to the mafia or in some other gang related occupation, it’s unlikely I will ever NEED an assault rifle of any kind.

My son and I talk about that sometimes—how lucky we are.  We could have been born in a country at war like Afghanistan or Syria.  We could have been born into a country where we have NO rights like North Korea or even somewhere in Latin America where people just get murdered all the time (Wikipedia has the stats if you want to fact check). Those are places we would need an assault rifle. Multiple assault rifles and an arsenal of guns in our basement or better yet in the coat closet by the front door.  If we even had a door.  That would be a luxury too probably.   In one of those countries, we would be fighting for our family’s survival every day.

Oh, and we would need an arsenal if there were a zombie apocalypse.  I’m sure that is an argument someone will make.  Fortunately, it is still general consensus that the zombie apocalypse is not real despite how awesome the tv show is.

I know what I have described is mostly just reasonable thought and lacks statistics, so here is a short video my husband found on Facebook.  He spends a lot of time there watching cat videos since he is getting tired of the crazy shit going on in the news.  I encourage everyone, whatever you believe, to watch it BEFORE you revert to your standard go-to opinion on the gun debate.

Finished? If you are, and I hope you really did watch,  because you saw that yeah America, gun violence is a thing.  Having too many guns IS A THING.  And America is known for it.

And before you revert back to that go-to argument, America, think about how you would feel if it were YOUR son, daughter, wife, husband, loved one who was a victim of the violence?  Would you still say guns don’t kill people?  Would you still say we don’t need to change our situation?  Would you REALLY?

What are we going to do?

Desensitization is also a thing.  I dare say I speak for many Americans when I say I feel like I/we have become a bit desensitized to violence or to situations that don’t effect me directly.

I don’t play video games by the way, so we can’t blame them.

I do tend to compartmentalize things.  Sometimes that is THE only way I can manage my emotions—I put them away in a box in my head and lock them up.  My kids are safe and happy.  My world is safe and happy.  So my strategy has been to look at the TV, feel bad…and move on…

Until a few days ago, I am not even sure I would have written about something like this. Something so controversial and emotional.  Writing  about something so raw rattles at the lock on my compartment.

Except that during the news coverage of the Florida school shooting, I saw the news clips of students talking to the news and they said things like, and I am paraphrasing, “We knew he was going to shoot up the school one day,”  and  “I wasn’t surprised when I found out it was him.”

And that BLEW THE LOCK OFF THE COMPARTMENT.  My eyes bugged out of my head.  I got mad and sad.  Mad at myself.  Mad at the media.  Mad at a system who puts guns into the hands of anyone who wants one.

Quote from Parkland School Shooting survivor, Emma Gonzales

Sad for a system who let a young man become so angry he resorted to violence to be seen…to be recognized…to be heard.

Mad at the culture who just keeps chanting that guns don’t kill people.

Except that there are too many lives lost and too many guns.

I mean, REALLY?  This is where we are now?  We have become so complacent about our fellow classmates, students, friends, humans, that this is where we are?

Can’t we all just SEE each other?  Can’t we just LISTEN to each other? Can’t we put aside the radical thoughts and look at what is best for everyone?  What is best for the vulnerable?  What will keep people safe?  (and we know it’s not more guns).

From Author Tom Digby https://www.facebook.com/tomdigby3/posts/1445953932167458

The victims of these crimes must be heard and must be examples on which we base our future.  “I hear you” needs to be far more than a talking point on a list held on a piece of paper by our President.  We need action that creates change and change that saves lives.

I am not pointing fingers and I don’t have a solution.

But I know people aren’t evil.  We have created these situations and we need to start looking at ourselves to fix them.

Listen to the victims of the crimes.  Listen to the broken.

America, guns cannot be more important than human beings.

Life is about relationships.  Let’s start creating some.

Respectfully,  A dangerously optimistic citizen feeling dangerously close to giving up on America’s ability to do the right thing

Do I Really Have an 18 Year Old??

Stories of love, laughter, and inspiration. Read about what moves me, frustrates me, and most importantly EMPOWERs me as I learn how to rewrite the script of life by blending art and words.

My daughter turned 18 Sunday.  18.  There are so, so many things that run through my head that correspond to that sentence.  I mean-  The first is, She is 18; she is an adult!  But then  my mind goes a little crazy, ya know? Like:

  • She is 18. I can kick her out anytime I want with no consequences.
  • I just blinked and she is 18!
  • She is FINALLY 18.
  • She is damn lucky she made it to 18.
  • My baby is 18???
  • I am old enough to have an 18-year-old?
  • Really? I am really old enough to have an 18-year-old?

And that is where I sit. Obviously, 18 has been coming.  I know how to count.  We have been preparing for this for the last 18 years.

It really sunk in a few weeks ago, when she and I went to a doctor’s appointment.  Lately, she has been going into the appointments by herself.  It’s new, but no big deal.  Less for me to worry about and more independence for her.   This time when she returned to me in the waiting room she had one of those sh*t-eating grins on her face and proudly announced she had gotten her tetanus booster during her appointment.  While I was in the waiting room. And I hadn’t heard any screams or cries.

She had gotten a shot allbyherself.  This child…oh man…this child has helled me over the years with shots.  She has been DEATHLY afraid of needles and has gotten herself so worked up and hysterical that half the time I had to  BEG the doctor/nurse/C.N.A/ whomever had the needle in hand,  to perform the procedure and get it over with because said  doctor/nurse/C.N.A/ whomever had the needle in hand was so freaked out by her reaction THEY didn’t dare administer the injection.

And that was  barely 3 months ago when she had her wisdom teeth out.

McKenna after breaking her wrist at age 2

When McKenna  was 2 she fell off the jungle gym and broke her wrist.  At the ER, they tried to give her a shot for the pain and she was so strong she shoved two nurses off of her. One was just starting the injection and wasn’t prepared to be hefted aside so easily.  The nurse dragged the needle down the side of McKenna’s thigh as she was pushed by that angry 2-year-old.   She still has a scar!

Back to present day injection completed.  Sh*t eating grin meets WTF? face.

“How the hell did you manage that?” I asked incredulously.   She shrugged and said, “Well, I told myself I couldn’t be 18 and still need my mom to hold my hand while I got a shot.”

That was when it hit me that I have an 18-year-old.  This child…this child whom I can still feel inside me, rolling around kicking, all the time kicking, and whom I always imagined was always just bursting to GET OUT into the world and start – This child who was almost literally pooped out in the toilet just yesterday, is 18.

1 week old & not looking at all like a toilet baby. 🙂

Ahem.  Pooped out in a toilet?  Yup.  She was born almost 2 weeks early and almost in the toilet. I didn’t know what childbirth felt like.  I just knew I felt like I needed to poop.  So by the time I got to the hospital, I couldn’t imagine why I needed to poop SO BAD and WHY wouldn’t it just come out already!!??  Then imagine how upset I was to learn my carefully written birth plan, which included an epidural, was null and void because my baby was already crowning!

And I had been trying to poop her out.  Nobody tells you that stuff!  Am I right?  Except now I do.  If you are pregnant and I halfway know you, I will tell you.  Because no one told me and look what happened.  I almost had my baby in the toilet.

Then I think.  Holy sh*t.  She is almost 18.  She is leaving for college in New Hampshire in 7 months. and counting.

Did I say that out loud? Now I feel guilty again. *sigh* You just don’t understand.  Let me explain.   McKenna has been a little challenging.  We joke about it now.  She and I.  Corey and I and just about anyone who sits beside us at an athletic event.   Or at any event.  Or in line at the grocery store.  Or anywhere really. Sorry strangers.  We aren’t really crazy.  Or bad parents.  I don’t think…We just TALK about it.  It’s like our therapy.

There was this time when she was about 3 or 4 and she broke down a wooden door when because we put her in time out.  Yeah, she kicked it.  It cracked right down the middle.  She had temper tantrums like that.  Really bad ones and the only way to get past them was to wait it out with her in time out, in her room, with us holding the door closed.  Really tight.  Sometimes for a REALLY long time.

When she got older she would stay in her room for time-out, but she would scream bloody murder at the top of her lungs.  Sometimes she would throw stuff at the door or the wall.  Really big stuff cause she was always really strong.  It’s a good thing we live in the boonies because people would have called the cops.  They would have thought we were killing her.  Sometimes I felt like killing her, but I never tried.  Really.  Corey and I would walk to the end of our driveway and wait.  Sometimes for a really long time.

She has always been very persistent.

Our biggest challenge came elementary school. It was a different kind of challenge, though.  McKenna began struggling with crippling anxiety.  There were days she wouldn’t go to school or get on the bus because of the noise.  There were MANY days she would call me with headaches because the anxiety would manifest itself into a migraine.  She didn’t want to leave me at all. (And frankly, some of the school staff were a**holes.  That didn’t help!)  Ultimately, we had to go through tons of testing to make sure she was experiencing anxiety and didn’t have a brain tumor or something else medically wrong.

It was a terrible, horrible time for all of us. And I am thankful I had an understanding employer and a wonderful psychologist friend who snuck us to the top of her therapy list.  Through individual therapy and family therapy, we got through it.

And we learned that McKenna struggles with anxiety.  Once we knew that, we knew how to get through it and life got a little easier.  We had strategies and support.

Over the years, I have viewed that experience as a defining family moment and probably McKenna looks back to see it as helpful as well.  I think she has learned to adapt in her life to see that despite feeling anxious, if she does [whatever she is concerned about] she will get through it and be ok.

She continues to manage the anxiety.  It has bubbled up in pockets.  The fact remains that she is still a teenager and a pretty high-strung one at that.  I haven’t fantasized about kicking her out because life has been perfect.  I mean, she is perfect on the outside.  And sometimes I will share some of our challenges with people who know McKenna and they will be shocked.  She saves her ugly for us because we are the safe space for her. That’s a good thing.

Doesn’t make it any easier for us when the ugly comes out.

After winning the conference softball title

But the fact remains.  For all intents and purposes, my kid is perfect.  It cannot be denied.  She is a gifted athlete—Softball is her sport and last year she won every award in her conference Pitcher of the Year and  Player of the Year.  Then  she was chosen as the top softball player in the state.  Her team won their state championship trophy for the second year in a row.  She is going to college and will play softball at the Division II level and plans to be a Dermatologist.  She plays other sports and excels in those.  She is also an excellent student who ranks 4th in her class.   She has a 4.0 GPA.  She is in National Honor Society.  She volunteers.  She holds down a part-time job and pays for her own gas for her car, all of her own extras like food or fun.  She has never gone to a party.  In fact, her kind of party is to have her friends over HERE to have a fire and play Manhunt on the back lawn.  She has never had a speeding ticket.  Or a detention.

One of her many beautiful senior photos

Oh, and she is beautiful.

And we argue like crazy.  I am the task master.  I make her do her chores, hold her accountable, ask her questions.  And what teenager likes that??  I can’t help it.  I’m the mom and that’s my damn job.  But why is it when I ask her a question she can’t just tell me the answer?   Why do I get snapped at when I ask innocent questions?  Why can’t she just do her chores without me having to nag?  Why can’t she turn off the lights or put away her clothes or pick up her trash?!  Why does it feel like she is only nice to me when she wants something?

Why? Well, she is a teenager for one.  And she is just.like.me.

There.  I said it.

She is just like me.  She looks like me, she acts like me, she gets stressed out like me.  Her baseline disposition is like mine.

Why is that a problem?  Because most days I have to convince MYSELF to like myself.

So, when she walks in the door demanding someone go outside and plow the driveway cause, hello? It’s snowing!  I look at her and think, “who the hell do you think you are?”

Or when she is doing her homework at the dining room table and she insists the entire house be quiet because SHE is trying to concentrate, I look at her and think, “who the hell do you think you are?”

Ohhhh, I know.  Me.  I remember being that teenager, the strong-minded, verbal, everything revolves around me personality full of emotion and ready to fight.  I remember  expecting everyone to adapt everything they were doing to make my life work.  HELL, I kind of do that now.

When she walks out of the softball dugout, dirty, sunburnt, and pi*sed off because she knows she could have played better and she is crying even though they won the game, I look at her and think, “who the hell do you think you are?”

Oh, I know.  ME.   Every missed shot or attempt and competitive bone in her body.  I can have experienced it.  It’s why I yell so loudly on the sideline.  Because it’s the only thing I can do now to contribute.  I feel the grit, the sand, the anger when she misses.  I want to kick the dirt, the bag, the chair.  I want to cry with her because I have been there.  I want to yell, “CRY! Go ahead! Jump up and down and scream.  I completely get it.  Kick that glove across the field.  That girl should have totally caught that ball!”

But I can’t, because I am her mother, and being a team player is more important.  Losing with grace is more important.

When she tells me how she spots drivers texting and driving on the highway and purposely drives past them and calls them out  by making the universal sign for “shame on you” with her fingers or how she “mothers” her friends by scolding them on their poor choices.

I know.  Every time I know.  I am there in every moment she is speaking and demanding and mothering everyone.  It is me.   She only got it from me.  I want to say, “You are so right.  They are making poor choices and let’s call their mother.”  Or “Honey, you aren’t their mother and they are going to resent you for trying to be.”

But I can’t, because I am her mother and she needs to learn how to communicate and navigate her relationships.

18-year McKenna doesn’t yet have the life experience of 45-year-old Denise.  Her edges are a little bit sharper. Her tone a little bit tougher.  But that’s ok.  When I was 18, my edges were also sharp.  I learned as she will learn and I grew as she will grow.  All those edges and hard lines will soften. Because one thing she has learned is she can do anything she puts her mind to.  That’s not something I taught her.  That’s a lesson she learned all on her own.

What she doesn’t know is that SHE has been my gift.  Watching her struggle and learn and conquer and become the adult that she is now and will be has been the ride of a lifetime.  Oh, I know I crab and I bitch and I cry about all the things that make me CRAZY, but that’s in the moment.  In the moment, things are different.  In the moment, every edge is sharper.  It is in the moments of reflection that I really appreciate the complexity of McKenna.

from WorDSMITHstudios on Etsy.com

Those who truly love her also appreciate her complexity.

McKenna is perfection.  McKenna wouldn’t be the same if she wasn’t all of herself packed into her great big personality.  McKenna is beautiful.  Inside and out.

Yup, I have an 18-year-old.

Out of the Closet

I’m working on it!

My newfound extra time has allowed me the opportunity to clean out areas of my house I haven’t been able to get to for awhile.  I have closets full of stuff I literally stuck in there so I didn’t have to look at it scattered about in the house.

It’s ironic really, I mean, we laugh about my daughter and how she cleans her room by throwing everything in her closet.  So when she proudly announces, “look, I cleaned my room.” She is also saying, Do.NOT.look.in.the.closet!

I guess I have been doing the same thing for years.   Don’t know where to put this basket?  I’ll just tuck it in the hall closet.  I’ll remember where I put it when I need it.  This quart of paint I don’t feel like trucking to the basement?  Hall closet.  The extra printer supplies for the printer with no ink?
Yup.  Hall closet.  Now where did I put that basket that time…?
I have a pretty big house.  And the people who built it did a great job with storage.  I have a lot of closets and cabinet space.  Over these years as I picked up behind the kids or found shit I wasn’t ready to donate, I just stuck it in one of the many storage spots I had all around the house.
If I don’t have to look at it, it doesn’t exist and if I don’t have to look at it, I can resume control of my life with a clean house and less stress.  I adapted the ‘Whatever Works’ philosophy.

Except it’s really still there.  The stress, I mean. The stress of knowing the hall closet and the bathroom closet and pantrys and every nook and cranny is full of crap that EVENTUALLY is going to need to be cleaned out.  Those things, piled up, are really still in the back of my mind.

*Ohhh Dennnissse* (It’s the musical voice from inside my head) when are you going to get to cleaning out those closets and moving that crap to the basement?  And then when are you going to clean out the basement and take all that crap to Goodwill??? I am writing this as I look at my white board that also lists “clean out upstairs closet.” Like I literally need to nag MYSELF.  (As you can see, I also need to clean the top of my kitchen cabinets. They get really dusty and gross. Especially when they haven’t been wiped in like, 10 years…)

And so here I am, again, unemployed and FINALLY I have time to go through all the CRAP I have collected over the years.  And what do I do?  I spend precious cleaning time reflecting because, of course there are so many things to look at as that cleaning out the closet becomes an all-day affair.   There are pictures the kids drew, cards they made for me, old photos, and of course, the old slate book.
The ‘old slate book’?  Well, funny you should ask.  It’s kind of a long story, but it is all connected.  You may also be asking what this WorDSMITHstudios business is all about and why I said I am ‘back at blogging,’ when you only read my first post last week.
Me looking like I can barely
fit through the bathroom door.

Well, a few confessions:

1.       I have a shop on Etsy.
2.       This is not my first painting gig.
3.      This is not my first blog.
Not wildly surprising?  A bit of history for those just checking in:
I first started painting when I was pregnant with my daughter.  That was 1999.  Y2K was a thing and many thought the world was going to end.   My husband and I were happy and healthy,  living at and managing at a small camping resort in Western Maine. (papoosepondresort.com).

We didn’t believe the world was going to end (sometimes the dangerously optimistic thing can rub off), so we got pregnant.
Not only was I pregnant, but I was ENORMOUSLY pregnant.  Imagine a summer filled with all the ice-cream and candy and pizza you want literally RIGHT AT YOUR FINGERTIPS and available anytime, steps away from your front door.  Then imagine the freedom from guilt that comes when you are pregnant–I mean, you’re going to get fat anyway.  Why not eat what you want?  I spent that glorious summer getting back at every morsel of food that ever made me feel guilty when it crossed my lips.
Actually, I hadn’t been a parent yet, so it was before I knew was guilty felt like.
It was *BLISS*
The consequence?  60 pounds gained and pre-eclampsia 7 months in.  The doc didn’t go so far as to put me on bedrest, but I was pulled from working and ordered to stay off my feet as much as possible.
Kinda like bedrest, but not bedrest.  Makes sense.
As I type this I am 45.  (And unemployed–as if you could forget).   I am a Type A personality, but I would say I have chilled a lot over the years.  Back in my Papoose Pond days, when I was 27, I hadn’t experienced what it was like to have kids.  Kids help you realize there are some things that are worth stressing over in the moment and somethings you put in a closet to worry about later.
These days, my Type A corners are a little more rounded than they were when I was 27.  Experience softens the edges, blurs the lines, makes everything a little less rigid.  When I was 27, I was mad about everything, stressed about everything, YELLED about everything, fought everything. And I wasn’t the type to sit around much.  I was still figuring it out.   I was a happy person… pretty much.  I was fun.  I WAS.
Anyway, my husband and I were trying to find me something to do to occupy my Type A+ personality and still follow the doctor’s orders.  My husband was trying VERY hard because as you can imagine, I also was still learning how not to take my frustration out on him. (I’m still working on that one.)
Welcome Slate

A trip to the resort’s craft barn resulted in some stone slate, transfer paper, paintbrushes, and acrylic paints. I was to find a picture I liked, trace it onto the slate, and paint the picture.

Now, I had never done any painting.  Except for walls and I sucked (still suck) at that.  It never fails.  I always roll too high and get an entire roller mark on the ceiling.  Or put too much paint on the roller and drip all over the baseboards.  When I use painter’s tape, paint always gets under the tape–I don’t get that—and if I don’t then, you guessed it, baseboards and trim get marked all up.  I end up doing two paint jobs– the walls and the trim, which of course never looks the same.

Buuuut, hey.  This was going to be different.  And when you’re bored the way that I was bored–the Type A+ way—you grit your teeth and paint as closely in the lines of whatever the heck you traced as you can.  I can’t even remember what I painted, but I remember when I was done, it was pretty good!
Who needs Bob Ross?
So I just kept painting. Corey dug out what was left of those slates in the craft barn and I went to town.  I wrote WELCOME on them and painted one for everyone I knew.  Then I started taking photos of what I made, printing the page, and putting it in a binder.  The binder, aka, The Slate Book or Denise’s Slates, became 2-inches thick. People could flip through and choose what they wanted.  Then, Order UP!  I would make it for them. I charged like $20 a piece.

For 2 years I paid for our Christmas and other odds & ends with the money I earned from painting slates.

A commission I did; a small old photo
transferred to an oil canvas.
Photo is on the right.

Then one day, I was painting 3 of the same slate, side by side sweatshop style.  I vividly remember looking down at those paintings–it was a holiday theme and had a group of  holiday characters together-  Uncle Sam, a snowman, Santa, the Easter Bunny–and saying, “THIS sucks.”

And that was it.

I didn’t paint again for a long time.  Then I randomly started to do a few commissions for people; painting pictures of people from photographs.  Then I messed around with some oil paints.  But nothing consistent.

 And then my husband got laid off from his job.  And WorDSMITHstudios was born.

A lot happened in between.  Like how I sucked as a stay at home mom.  How I pretty much sucked as a mom all-around most of my daughter’s first 3 years.  Poor kid.  How I discovered my passion for working with youth.  Had another kid.  Learned I might not have been such a bad mom after all.  Started a blog I LOVED, then used really poor judgement and had to give it up. Read Eat, Pray, Love for the first time and felt blown away. Learned what it means to be a compassionate person. Realized the mistakes and failures I have experienced in my life were not something to be ashamed of, but to embrace because life is about growth.

Oh wait– *sigh*  I just realized McKenna learned her ifyoucantseeit room cleaning trick from me.  The closet thing?  Great.

Yeah, we can talk about all that.

So here I am…

Here I am.  45 and UNEMPLOYED. Not the scenario I would have imagined for myself even 6 months ago.  But does anyone?

I REALLY didn’t think it would happen. Our organization knew our program was in trouble at the state level, but I figured all would be ok.  We were doing what we were supposed to do.  We did good work.  I was really good at my job. (That’s what mattered right?!)  We were all committed to our work.  Our partners and state representatives were in our court, advocating to the Governor.  No one would ultimately take away the resources that provided support and assistance from the vulnerable, yet AMAZING program participants who were benefiting from the services we provided.    All would be right with the world.

And yet here I sit.  Unemployed.

I am the opposite of a realist.  I am an optimist in what could be the the worst way. Some could say I am dangerously optimistic.  ( Did you catch that there? )  I try to stay realistic, but in the end I figure everything will work out.  And did I say I was really good at my job?  That my colleagues were really good at their jobs?  We believed in our mission.  We were innovating.  We were meeting our performance measures.  In the world of non-profits, it is all about performance measures.  If you meet your performance measures, you keep your money.  That’s the belief anyway.

We are fun.

You can imagine my shock when we actually did lose the funding.

We live in crazy times my friends.  I could rant and rave for pages and pages describing how the grant that funded our program was unfairly and unjustly yanked out from under us.  But I won’t.  The fact is there are good people without a job and many, many individuals not able to benefit from valuable programs.

Myself & co-workers
Aleigh & Nigel

For me, losing my job felt like I was losing a piece of myself.  I was comfortable with my work family. I had a great team. At work. I was the expert.  I was confident. People respected me and I knew the answers to the questions.  What was I supposed to do?  We were a very unique program in Maine.  Maine, people!   I couldn’t just whip up a resume and go down the street to the next non-profit.  I wanted to scream, “What about me? What about MY 5-year plan? What am I supposed to do NOW?”

And it’s Christmas for goodness sake!! (December 1st was my last day).
*cue temper tantrum*

And so here I am.  Still 45 and still unemployed.

Once the dust settled, the tears were all cried, and I had time to just BE, I started to examine my situation.

Actually, that’s a lie.  I think that’s what I thought I was supposed to say.

What actually happened was I became so busy shuttling my kids around, running errands, cooking dinner, creating new art for my website (wordsmithstudios on etsy.com), re-connecting with friends…I was running my ASS off.   I was just as busy as I had been when I was working 40+ hours a week.

My first epiphany was How the HELL did I ever WORK?  How did I do everything, including Etsy stuff  AND work?

The difference was, without the full-time gig, I didn’t feel as stressed or anxious.  I actually started being a mother.  And a wife.  I was devoting more time to my Etsy shop.  And it didn’t feel all wrong. I was busy, but not CRAZYTRESSEDOUTFULLTIMEJOB MOM busy.

When I was working, stress was constant. I would be driving like a maniac to pick my son up for an appointment  because I had left my office 15 minutes later than planned, only to stress my son out because he had been waiting for me to arrive during those 15 minutes.  Had I crashed?  Would we be late for his appointment?  Would we crash on the way TO the appointment because I was then speeding to get to the appointment on time? Then in the waiting room, I would be talking to him while checking emails and planning for what I would cook for dinner by way of the microwave.  Leaving the appointment meant booking it back to the office real quick to sit in on a final meeting, sign paperwork, check in with staff, and grab my laptop so I could do whatever work I needed to catch up on because I had been out of the office for that appointment.  Then home I would go.  I’d walk in the door to my house and my stress would spike because there was the messy living room littered with dishes from the morning. Grrrrr.  Keep going to the kitchen and the dishes were overflowing the sink and counter because the dishwasher was full and my daughter won’t unload it unless I remind her 3 times….

…and guilty.  I always felt guilty.  Guilty for going to work. Guilty for staying home.  Guilty if I needed to be home for my kids for something.  Guilty for being at work and not home.   Guilty for not paying attention to my kids. Did I say that already? Guilty when I was relieved they didn’t want me to pay attention to them. Guilty I wasn’t one of those parents who volunteered hours at school or made special signs for athletic events or whipped up cupcakes for the class party. Guilty for not playing more board games. Guilty for not just unloading the dishwasher instead of making my daughter do it.  Guilty that unloading it would not teach her responsibility and that I thought about giving in.  Guilty for paying too much attention to my kids and not enough to my husband. I felt guilty for feeling guilty!

Whenever I tried to articulate the anxiety to my family and plead for help, the answer was always, “You just have to let some things go.”  “Stop letting the little things get to you.”

Ok.  Well, what would I let go?  Do I stop doing laundry, because it is surely going to pile up.  And then what?  More stress and anxiety?  What would be a little thing?  Perhaps I stop cooking dinner?  Do I stop working?  Do I stop cleaning? No one could answer those questions.  And so the cycle continued.

Until  The Universe intervened and decided  for me that the thing to let go was work.  I had no choice,  so I kept moving forward.  And you know what?  I started to feel better.  And pretty soon, I started to feel really good.

Dare I say stress free?

My family and our yearly crazy Christmas photos in front of the tree.
I think I look a little less stressed than previous years. 🙂
My 2nd epiphany came with the realization that for the first time in years, my family was coming first

A reminder to stand true to myself.
Original art from WorDSMITHstudios on Etsy.com

And by default, so was I.  The Universe had handed me a gift. A blessing in disguise.  For the first time in years, I was present while in the waiting room at the doctor’s office with my kid.  I could listen to what he or she had to say.  I could cook a meal I didn’t feel guilty about serving.  I still hate cooking said meal, but at least my family wants to eat it now.  I could pick up the house a little at a time to avoid walking into messes.  That entire layer of stress I had been experiencing because I had no time, was gone.

And so here I am.  45 and STILL unemployed.

And everyday, I am here to say goodbye to my husband when he leaves for work.  I am here to say goodbye to my daughter when she leaves for school.  Some days she even says “bye” back.  And everyday, I drop off and pick my son up from the bus.  Some days, I pick him up after school and we go swimming at the YMCA.  I hate the swimming part, but when we leave and he says, “That was fun.”

Angels sing.

And so I will blog.  Because I am unemployed.


text:
Microbiologist/Research Experience in QA/QC

Resume posted by vinnytan in Engineering / Science.
Desired salary: $3,000.00
Desired position type: Any
Location: Pulau Pinang Pulau Pinang, Malaysia

1 year of microbiology research background (yeast genetics & qa/qc & shelf-life). Co-authored 1 scientific publication (nutrient retainment post-processing). 4 yrs experience abroad (1yr work experience in US). Adaptable to international environment/people handling. Excellent English speaker/writer. Experience in detecting food pathogens via microbiology testing methods.

Bachelor of Science in Microbiology, Minor in Chemistry & Business Entrepreneurship | Sept 2014

Oregon State University | Corvallis, OR

Research Assistant | Nov 2014 – Apr 2015
Department of Research & Development, Medolac Laboratories | Lake Oswego, OR
 Researched literature on characterization of breast milk to gather technical data for production & research
 Implemented guideline, developed & applied new research topics to ensure product safety & quality
 Established appropriate storage temperature and determined shelf-life of raw and finished samples
 Purchased instrumental kits and arranged testing services with other companies
 Performed QA/QC testing on samples using microbial counts, osmolality, pH, nutrient composition
 Verified safety and quality of pre- & post-processed samples
 Monitored clean room for sample production
 Tested for adulteration of sample with foreign proteins
 Prepared solutions, set-up & maintain lab instruments, discard wastes – according to SOP

Lab Microbiologist (Temporary Position) | Apr 2015 – May 2015
Purity Laboratories Inc. | Lake Oswego, OR
 Performed QA/QC testing on food & nutraceutical products
 Applied methods of MPN, VIP assays, USP, petrifilm and spread plate to detect specified food pathogens based on FDA BAM and AOAC standards & adhered to testing requirements of ISO

Undergraduate Research Assistant | Dec 2012 – June 2013
Dr. Alan Bakalinsky’s Lab, Department of Food Science & Technology | Corvallis, OR
 Carried out plasmid restriction using appropriate restriction enzymes based on DNA mapping
 Prepared and ran electrophoresis gels for plasmid analysis
 Transformed different inserts into yeast vector

  • HPLC, mass spectrophotometry, pH meters, Calais Human Milk Analyzer, nanodrop, light microscope, petrifilm, culture, isolate, enumerate & identify bacteria using USP, MPN, VIP method, plasmid restriction, mapping, extraction & transformation, PCR, RT-PCR, gel electrophoresis, media preparation, hemacytometer reading, autoclaving, aseptic technique, gram stain, serial dilutions, Microsoft office, Minitab,

    Animation Sketching, Professional fluency in English, Proofreading Academic Papers, Write Scientific Publications

Spoken Languages

    English, Malay

861 total views, 1 today


text:
2v2 Tier VI - 18:00 CEST - September #4 Fri
La registrazione termina tra: Combatti

2v2 Tier VI - 18:00 CEST - September #4 Fri

La registrazione termina tra:

Daily tournaments offer you the chance to play competitively, without having to be present several days in a row. If you are new to eSports, this is the perfect tournament to start your career with! Teams are split into groups of 4, fight for top places to win gold!

Il programma verrà pubblicato al termine delle registrazioni

    Giorno 1:

    EU 2

    Giorno 1:

    EU 2

Il Torneo

  • 5 Squadre confermate
  • SE + RR Girone del torneo
  • Gold Montepremi
  • EU 2 Server

Dettagli torneo

  • Formato della squadra 2
  • Modalità di battaglia Encounter battle
  • Livello del veicolo VI
  • Livello totale consentito 12
  • Informazioni aggiuntive IMPORTANT! - after receiving the special battle invitation, you need to select the tournament battle you are about to play. Afterwards, you MUST transfer yourself to the main team (to the right side) and confirm your readiness.

Sand River

Posizione Premio
1st place: 1200 gold
2nd place: 600 gold
3rd-4th place: 400 gold
5th-8th place: 200 gold
9th-16th place: 100 gold

Squadre confermate

Squadra Server di gioco Opzioni di registrazione
(Squadra non confermata)

  • Tournament Rules:
Tournament Rules:

Tournament Rules:

  • The tournaments will be played in two stages (group stage + playoff).
  • The groups will contain 4 teams and each team will play a maximum of 3 battles.
  • The top 2 teams from the Group stage will qualify for the Playoffs.
  • Group stage point distribution: 3 points for a win, 1 point for a draw, 0 points for defeat.
  • If two teams have an equal amount of points, their ranking will be based on their head to head ratio.
  • In the Playoff stage the defeated teams are leaving competition.
  • In case of draws in the Playoff stage, both teams will receive defeats.
  • Games are Bo1 in Group stage, and Bo1 in the Playoffs stage. The final game is BO3.

Battle rules

  • Battle mode: Encounter.
  • Battle duration: 7 minutes.
  • Server: EU2.
  • Maps: Any map which supports the battle mode.
  • Teams have 5-10 minutes before the allocated start time to join the lobby.
  • Starting spawn points for all games will be automatically allocated by the system.
  • To win a game, the team will need to destroy all enemy vehicles or capture the enemy base.
  • In Bo1 teams are required to win 1 game, while In Bo3 teams are required to win 2 games to win the match.
  • Games cannot be replayed, unless an issue with the setup causes a problem or in case we encounter server issues where the majority of users are affected. Unfortunately, we will be unable to restart games due to disconnections or PC crashes.

General rules

eSports Social media

Knowledge is power. Stay on top of the competition!

Interested in the top level on World of Tanks? Follow the Wargaming.net League and find out what's happening at the professional level.


text:
Human and Holy: Healthy Tensions of our Gathered Worship

In just under two months (July 27-29) we’ll be gathering in Louisville, KY for our second regional WorshipGod conference! The first was held in Pennsylvania this past March. We’re calling the Louisville conference: Human and Holy: Healthy Tensions of our Gathered Worship.

If you’ve ever planned the music or meetings at your church, you’re probably familiar with the category of “healthy tensions.” Or at least, tension. Conversations about worship can be polarizing. We choose sides and attack each other rather than seeking out biblical solutions and priorities.

Should our meetings be reverent or celebratory?
Do we want our musicians to be highly skilled or genuinely sincere?
Should we careful planning or anticipate that the Holy Spirit will move spontaneously?
How can our meetings be rooted in Scripture and relevant to our culture at the same time?

Who Will Be There

I’ve asked a number of friends to join me as we address these questions and more at Human and Holy. Here’s the speaker lineup:

Rick GamacheOrthodox and On Fire
Bob Kauflin: Structured and Spontaneous
Shai LinneRooted and Relevant
Matt MasonEvent and Everyday
CJ MahaneyAnticipating and Already

Times of worship in song will be led by me and my son, Devon, Daniel Renstrom and his band from The Church at Brook Hills, and an acoustic band from Sojourn Music. A number of Hispanic friends will lead a bi-lingual session Saturday morning. It’s something we’ve done at Sovereign Grace Church of Louisville that has helped us address the healthy tension of a multi-ethnic congregation! I’ve also asked Caroline Cobb and Adam Wright of  Corner Room Music to come and share some of the songs they’ve been writing to encourage the church. Caroline focuses on songs that tell the story of redemptive history while Adam’s forte has been brilliant settings of verbatim Scriptures, especially the Psalms.

Seminars Galore

We’ll be offering seven pre-conference intensives from 1:30-5pm on Thursday afternoon, where you can be equipped in leading, songwriting, technical skills, singing, bass, drums, or guitar. During the conference you’ll be able to choose 3 of 21 breakouts that address theological, practical, and heart issues. Here’s a small sample:

Unity in Diversity – Shai Linne
Wisdom from the Worship Wars of the 18th Century – Michael Haykin
When Waiting is Trusting – Don Whitney
Preparing Your Heart for Sunday Morning – Devon Kauflin
Skilled & Sincere: The Pursuit of Undistracting Excellence – Bob Kauflin
Three Electric Guitar Breakouts – Josh Scott (of JHS Pedals) and Patrick Anderson
and a lot more!

Why YOU Should Come

Regional WorshipGod conferences are slightly shorter, starting on Thursday night rather than Wednesday night, so you don’t have to miss as much work. But you’ll still be getting a free lunch on Friday, and we’ll be giving away tons of music, books, and great gear (special thanks to Josh Scott for that), that you won’t want to miss out on.

Every WorshipGod conference gives you the opportunity to not only hear from the musicians and speakers that are featured at the conference, but also interact with hundreds of like-minded musicians, pastors, songwriters, tech personnel, and Christians who are passionate about biblically faithful, Christ-exalting worship and want to grow in their skills and effectiveness as they serve their local churches.

If you register before June 8 you’ll save $20. So, what are you waiting for? Bring your band, your friends, your pastor, or your staff! We hope to see you there!

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A TXT record is text in free, human-readable form, that is associated with a domain address as a DNS record for one purpose or other. The most widespread use of a TXT record is to add your web site to an Internet search engine or to an analytics platform, that offers info about the web traffic to your Internet site. Setting up this kind of a record can serve as confirmation that you're the domain owner and they will provide the content that you need to include as the value when you create the record. Another purpose of a TXT record is to verify that an e-mail message is sent by the domain name owner and from a trusted web server - this is the so-called SPF security, which prevents any electronic address set up under your domain name to be forged and unauthorized people to send out spam making it appear like it was sent from your own mailbox. You could include any other info you want to be associated with your Internet domain in a TXT record as well.

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text:
Authentic Pisco Sour ~ Nat Geo Amazon River Cruise Cocktail of Choice

It’s the beloved foam-topped tart/sweet cocktail of South America. Pisco Sour – the featured drink on our Upper Amazon Rainforest Cruise on National Geographic Adventures.

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How to Make a DIY Bloody Mary Bar

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Home Lifestyle Celebs Zayn Malik, Jared Leto and Mark Hamill Top the List of British...

Zayn Malik, Jared Leto and Mark Hamill Top the List of British GQ’s Men of the Year

Jared Leto, Zayn Malik, Mark Hamill

Nancy Rivera/Fred Duval/Getty Images Rex Features via AP Images

Hello, ladies and gentlemen!

It’s that time of year again when the biggest names in fashion, music and culture flock to London for British GQ‘s Men of the Year awards, which was hosted by Mark Strong at the Tate Modern on Tuesday night.

At the star-studded award show, Star Wars actor Mark Hamill was presented with the Icon prize by Simon Pegg. Ex One Direction star Zayn Malik, who is on the mag’s cover, was named Most Stylish Man, but his award was collected on behalf of model Selah Marley.

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The editor’s special award was given to Netflix drama Stranger Things and Oscar winner and Suicide Squad star Jared Leto was named actor of the year.  Former Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher was named Rock ‘n’ Roll Star of the Year.

Rita Ora, Gordon Ramsay andJaden Smith were some of the other celebs who handed out awards to the night’s big winners.

Jared Leto, GQ Men Of The Year Awards

Fred Duval/FilmMagic

Here is a full list of winners from the GQ Men of the Year awards:

Solo Artist: Stormzy

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Editor’s Special Award: Stranger Things

Creative Maverick: Sergei Polunin

Special Achievement: Antonio Conte

Breakthrough Designer: Grace Wales Bonner

Garage Act: Kurupt FM

Designer: Christopher Bailey

Band: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Breakthrough Actor: James Norton

Most Stylish Man: Zayn Malik

Legend: Sir Geoff Hurst

Woman of the Year: Adwoa Aboah

TV Personalities: The Grand Tour

Maddox Gallery Artist: Wolfgang Tillmans

Comedians: Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon

Rock ‘n Roll Star: Liam Gallagher

Sportsman: Anthony Joshua

Politician: Sadiq Khan

Actor: Jared Leto

Inspiration: Pele

Icon: Mark Hamill

Don’t miss E! News every weekday at 7 and 11 p.m.

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Scott County Republicans Get Bogus Postcard

This is an archived article and the information in the article may be outdated. Please look at the time stamp on the story to see when it was last updated.

DAVENPORT – A political postcard sent out across Scott County sparked a firestorm of controversy Monday. It states the Scott County Republican Convention is reconvening. But party leaders Monday said the postcard is bogus.

That’s because the delegates for Scott County have already been accounted for. According to some though, there’s a group in the area that’s trying to meddle with those delegate votes.

On a day when Scott County republicans were focusing on Moline, the political party had to look backwards. On Saturday some received a postcard in the mail, saying that the Scott County convention was reconvening Thursday, March 22nd.

“But that’s just it, they’re not reconvening anything,” Scott County delegate Bill Edmond said.

Edmond received the postcard Saturday, but it turns out the info is absolutely false.

“We are not reconvening the convention,” Chairwoman Judy Davidson said. “The convention was adjourned. It was legitimate. All the results from the convention were legitimate.”

Edmond says that Ron Paul supporters are the ones who made up the postcard to try and get him more delegates.

“What they’re trying to do is they’re trying to do is they’re trying to fracture the Scott County Republican Party,” Edmond said.

Edmond believes the Ron Paul supporters will meet up Thursday, but they won’t meet up with the rest of the party.

“On Thursday night, they will elect their own slate of delegates,” Edmond said. “Then they will go up to Mount Pleasant the next month for the district convention, and then they’ll try to get those delegates seated.”

And while the Scott county delegates are already accounted for, some think a few Ron Paul supporters are trying to give themselves an edge.

WQAD was not able to contact the Ron Paul supporters in Iowa. We also cannot confirm who sent out the postcards. The Scott County Republican Convention happened on March 10.


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A C1 is a one-person canoe. The 'C' stands for CANADIAN. This is our sport!

Returning Paddlers

Who is a Returning Paddler? Anyone who has paddled a previous season or has completed Learn to Paddle Camp.

If new to the sport, register in one of our Learn To Paddle courses where all the basics are taught.  Once complete you are ready to join one of the seasonal or full-year options.

Our purpose: We use the sport of paddling to promote growth as great athletes, teammates and people. Wascana Racing Canoe Club promotes a positive, supportive and challenging environment.

Note: Paddlers will not be on the water in extreme weather conditions. However,  we have a rainy-day plan so rain or shine the show goes on.

Participants must have a minimum swim competency. If asked to demonstrate swim ability the paddlers must be able to tread water for 1.5 minutes, stay afloat for 5 minutes without assistance, swim 75 metres (any stroke, any speed) without a lifejacket or other flotation device. We can not stress enough the risk of putting non-swimmers on the water, it not only presents a risk to the participant but for staff and other participants as well. If you are unsure of the ability to meet the minimum swim ability we encourage you to visit a local pool were there is a lifeguard present and try it out.
* All U15 participants must wear life jackets or PFDs any time they are on the water

 FAMILY DISCOUNTS available for Full-Season (May-Oct) Registrations


text:
How Large Is God?

How Large Is God?

Voices of Scientists and Theologians

Book - 1997
Rate this:
Nine distinguished scholars present varied v iews on the size of God inasmuch as it is possible to make s uch a conjecture. Concurring with modern scientific thought on the utter vastness of the universe they explore the limit s of reality. '
Publisher: Philadelphia : Templeton Foundation Press, c1997.
ISBN: 9781890151010
Characteristics: 257 p. :,ill. ;,24 cm.
Additional Contributors: Templeton, John 1912-2008

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