The Ryan Rescue Mission part 5

The Ryan Rescue Mission- Part 5 (it gets deep).

After finding Ryan home, Tammy and I got in the car, in fearful hopes that we could find the funeral home.

On the way we found a huge intersection -unmarked, where we were supposed to have turned (the Garmin, again failed us) and after traveling nearly two miles passed, we pulled over and Tammy stopped a man in a truck with a bunch of "egg boxes" in his font seat.

He confirmed that we had missed our turn.

Then Ryan's brother contacted us and was the voice "calling in the wilderness" helping us to find the Funeral home.

When we arrived, there was Ryan's brother and a husky man named "Shep" to greet us.

Later, I will have developed a fondness for Shep.

Both Ryan's brother and Shep helped to care for Ryan's mother in her declining time.

Walking into the funeral home, I prepared myself for the fateful meeting with Janice (the demon Harpy).

As we were walking into the office of the funeral home, I saw the woman who managed the funeral home. She was a pleasant (maybe a bit TOO perky for funeral arrangements) southern woman.

Also, there was Janice. Immediately I thought "Wow, well Ryan has a "type" that he likes."

Janice was sitting with a crochet'd lap cover and few other things in her hand.

She was a round woman with long hair, pulled back. I sat next to her (as Tammy occupied the chair across from her. A tactic Tammy said she employed on purpose, and learned from business negotiation).

Something then happened that I can only describe as manipulative. Well, actually, what happened next was a barrage of "stories" about escalating funeral costs and how difficult it was to find a funeral home that was sympathetic to their plight. Apparently, one funeral director even suggested a buffet at the funeral home. At this point, I (like others in the room) had visions of both "appropriate" and "inappropriate" dishes, actually surrounding the casket.

You know, like "death by chocolate brownies" beside grilled shrimps on grits toast.

 After that, it was explained to "us" (Tammy) that the funeral director had agreed to move forward with the funeral services, if the "group" could gather enough for half the total expenses. Then it was explained to us (Tammy) that they needed some aught of $140 to meet that goal.

 At this point, I will digress to talk more about my friend Tammy. Understanding someone's motivations, I find, is integral to my communication with them. The same is true of my relationship with Tammy.

Tammy's primary motivation in life is family. She will do (and has done) anything and everything one can think of, in support of her children, her parents and her sister and brother.

A prime example of this, is each and every Thanksgiving I can remember, we've wanted to do something together. She's complained about having to cook for the entire family. Each and every Thanksgiving, she is "talked into" cooking for the entire family (a wholly ungrateful lot, if you ask me) and then is abandoned to clean up and nurse her exhaustion alone.

Likewise, if she sees someone ELSE'S  family in peril, she will do whatever she deems necessary to help.

Such was the case when she was told of the $140 needed to meet the goal of Mama 'Nell's funeral.  Four sets of eyes boring into her, nearly willing her to say "I'll cover it".  Bare in mind, that the last time Tammy spoke with this woman, this woman told Tammy that her son didn't want to see Tammy anymore and it wasn't going to "work out for them".

I watched as the pin ball rivets locked into place in Tammy's mind and she said "I have to go to my car to get the money".  I was tempted to go with her, but she didn't seem to want the company.

After about ten minutes of Gene and Shep talking about what all they've done for Mama 'nell, and how taxing it had been to take care of her, in the final months, (and Janice offering how she had been the driving force in getting the "funeral done" because none of the "boys" could seem to "get her burried") Tammy returned. She gave (as is typical for her) just a tad over the requested amount. She was thanked.

As we were leaving (with Janice nearly pushing us BOTH out the doors of the funeral home) Gene and Shep asked us to go out to lunch with them.

So we did. A nice homestyle restaurant, in which we listened to what a great cook Mama 'Nell was. How they did (most of) the caring for her during her confinement. We swapped stories and Tammy and I left with an (inappropriate) good feeling about our interaction. Feeling somehow like we weren't alone in this barren (and yet to be hostile) land.

How wrong could we possibly be?

The Great Ryan Rescue Mission -part 3

The Incredible Ryan Rescue, Part 3

Driving into Alabama in the setting sun is a mixed blessing, to be sure. Long long expanses of highway, leading us into the inky night, punctuated by hills with no highway lighting.

After a very long expanse of quiet between Tammy and me, we turned down highway 21 and were confronted by "detour" signs. Not only that, but the (so far) trustworthy (although quirky) Garmin, decided the Alabama landscape, at night, with a detour, was too much for it's abilities.

After several lap-backs, and "should we turn there", we found ourselves in front of a "Gas-n-Go" (we thought really we should just "go"). At this point, Ryan's brother (who had been informed that Tammy was coming in for the funeral) called.

Tammy pointed to the phone and mouthed "He sounds like he's been drinking". At that moment, I confess I was envious of the anonymous stranger on the phone.

However, going into the shopette , a very kind woman behind the counter gave us excellent directions to get back on track. As soon as we were on SR 77 (which we learned later was "our friend " in getting anywhere) the silent and lost Garmin picked up just as though it had never skipped a beat and then we found our Days Inn . This hotel, we had been informed, was the "best hotel in Lincoln".

It was an "ok" hotel. My theory is that the only OTHER hotel rents out rooms by the hour. (clears throat).

After we settled in a bit, Tammy decided to take a drive to the trailer park where Ryan was being held hostage. Her report was that it was too dark to see anything.

The next morning, Tammy (bless her) went out to get some medicine for me and stopped at a shop-n-go near by the trailer park, where she though Ryan might go for coffee in the morning.

We later learned she missed him by only moments.

Another call from Ryan's brother prompted us to make arrangements to go to the funeral home that morning. They were trying to gather half of the money for the funeral and interment.

We elected to take one more run over to the trailer park to see if we could talk with Ryan.

Not seeing his vehicle in the driveway, we pulled out and were turning around and messing with the Garmin when Tammy saw "someone" on the front stoop.

We pulled in again to the driveway and honked the horn.

Yes,  it was Ryan.

The look of shock on his face was priceless. Tammy got out of the car and he said "What in the hell are you doin' here?'

I was getting out of the car when it happened. It was as if time and all the motion in the world just stopped.

The two of them embraced in a way that would have made Rodan stop and stare.

Tammy was trying to communicate with Ryan in between deep and desperate kisses.

Tammy gripped his face and said "I need you to hear me and I don't have much time, because I don't want Janice to come out and kill me". She told Ryan that if he was in a situation where he thought he was "stuck" and couldn't get out, that he had "other options". If he wanted to come to Florida, he could. If he wanted to come to Florida and not live with her, she would help him.

I felt like a voyer, watching them in this tender expression of love and compassion.

After a few moments I moved around the car and said something like "Aren't you glad to see ME?" . Ryan said "yes" he was glad to see me and gave me a big ol' bear hug.

His eyes were clear, so he was sober. He was drinking in the presence of Tammy like a man who had been parched in the dessert (for three months and two weeks).

Tammy told Ryan where we were staying and we headed off to find the Funeral Home.

I would love to say we ALL rode off into the sunset, and Ryan's kin were understanding , bidding him fond fare-wells.

But for us the drama was just beginning.

The Ryan Rescue Mission-Part 2

The Ryan Rescue Mission-part 2

*First a note of retraction: In my part one of this Blog, I said it was six months that Ryan was absent from Florida. Thank goodness for fact-checkers. The time period was actually 3 months and two weeks.

Second note of caution: The names in this Blog have not been changed to protect anyone or for any other reason. Why? Because I think after reading this, there are a very select few who will actually believe this.

My friend Tammy, who is a buyer of mechanical parts, has this odd and uncanny ability, which I, here-to-fore, hadn't recognized. She has a way of convincing you to do something (with her) that she feels compelled to do. That's powerful in and of itself. But then, somehow, she has a way of finessing you, so that you believe it's your idea.  Which, as I'm writing this, makes me wonder why she isn't making a whole lot more money, than she's currently paid.

 This is important to the plot line, because after several more phone calls to Janice/Ryan (and not speaking with Ryan) and attempts to other members of the family falling fruitless, Tammy and I had schemed and talked for four days. On Thursday night, we're at Panera bread, once again doing the "what should we do, dance", when, without my consent, it fell from my brain, on to my tongue and out of my mouth; Just like a gumball.

 "Well, then we pretty much have to go rescue him, don't we? We don't really have a choice."

 Immediately leaving Panera Bread, we went to Tire Kingdom to get an oil change for the trip.

 We befriended a man named Nick, who still wants to be informed about the results of our mission.

The trip to Tire Kingdom resulted in nearly $400 worth of work on the car and a later disaster, which, as I type this is still being resolved. It has resulted in the engine seizing up.  Remember that was Tire Kingdom.

 We were informed by Nick that the car (which Tammy invested $400 in for the oil change, tire change Tire-realignment and some other things) would not make it to Alabama, because of the brakes.

 This, I think of as a grievous error in judgment on my part. Thrice titled Brevard County's Best Psychic by Florida Today newspaper,  I confess, sometimes my insight is uncanny. This, however was not one of those nights. Tammy asked if we should borrow her mother's Camry (or as Tammy loves to call it, the Great American-Land Yacht) or should we take her car. I said her car, because it would be better on gas. Tammy then said that she should get an oil change before she went, I pointed out Tire Kingdom as we were leaving to prepare for the adventure. 

In the light of Nick's information to us, we drove (Nearly an hour' s drive my area of Melbourne) to Tammy's mother's home to swap out cars.

After that we stopped at Tammy's home and then up to my home, we were resolved to make a fresh start in the morning.

We did try one last ditch effort to not drive the 600 some odd miles to a foreign land to rescue our friend. (well at this point, "friend" was kind of grand word for my emotions) . We'd have my husband call and see if HE could get Ryan on the phone. If Walt did, maybe we could get some viable information so we could make a viable plan. Walt is such a sport. He did call, ended up leaving a voice message that he had heard about Ryan's mother, and he was an old fishin' buddy of Ryan's and wanted to offer condolences.

 So, no voice contact from Ryan, we decided we were going to go to Ryan's mother's funeral and see if we could be some help to him.

As a side note-although it's relevant, the fact that we couldn't reach or contact Ryan we "eerily familiar to me." It's a tactic that some people with anti-social personalities use to control their prey. I had experience with such a creature.  Once, when trying to explain some of these traits to Tammy I described such beings as "dragons".   Even though they are not all the same type  of dragon (some are water dragons, some are fire dragons.). The point (for Tammy) being that if you can recognize one type of dragon, you can recognize like qualities of other  dragons. By my current count we met (at least) four dragons in our dealings in Alabama.

 So the next day (Friday) we were in the-great-American-land-yacht, guided by the "ghetto Garmin" out of Florida and into (unknown to us) the inner darkness of Lincoln, Alabama.

At this juncture in our adventure, I will tell you WHY Tammy calls the GPS the "Ghetto Garmin". She claimed that this Global Positioning System, had a propensity for guiding her through the most rag-tag, low rent and/or possibly dangerous parts of any unknown town as a part of its "getting one to the destination via the fastest route" directive.

I didn't really believe that the Garmin did this, I mean it's a computer-ish thing, right?

A trip with Tammy to Virginia/Washington DC proved me wrong.  First, I didn't realize Tammy had the aggravating habit Tammy has of both questioning and arguing with the directions given by the GPS. "Did she say turn here? I am NOT turning here, that's just stupid" . Then ten minutes down the road "I should have  turned back there.". (sighs).

But I also learned that what she said was true. The Garmin would take us through the most rancid areas of Virginia, just take us back to our hotel.

  Moving on, we made amazing time through Florida and into Georgia (where we stopped for a rest stop and photo op) and were nearly out of Georgia, when I saw something I had never seen before.

One of the longest stretches of nothing, there were rows and rows of plants with white....things on them.

 I pointed out the window and said to Tammy "I wonder what THAT is."

 Tammy responded "I think that's a cotton field."  

Forgetting we were no longer in Florida, it was out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying "No we don't have any cotton fields in....." (I stopped) "Oh right we're in Georgia".

At this point a tasteless and unpolitically correct banter ensued , all of which (we agree) would, if we in fact had our own reality show and had a camera on the dashboard...would have been summarily bleeped and X-d out. Suffice it to say, it ended with me singing some old negro spirituals I learned in grade school , about picking cotton.  Tammy , however, got bonus sin points for her remarks.

The laughing until we both almost peed tapered off and ended as we passed  Fort  Benning  ,a startling sight in the setting sun.

The Great American Ryan Rescue Mission-part1

The Ryan Rescue mission

With a rapier action that left gusts of air up to my face, Tammy pointed out my passenger side window.

Pointing into the blackest Alabama night, she proclaimed "I bet a colony of serial killers live over there!"

Trying to get into the spirit of diverting us from the endless detour we'd been following aimlessly, I offered "Then next, we'll run out of gas."

"Don't SAY that." Tammy scowled "It scares me!"

"Oh...serial killers don't scare you."

"No but, running out of gas is like something that could really happen."

I closed my mouth.  The last salvo she offered was as though she believed

that serial killers were "mythical beasts" , like trolls or unicorns.

An odd perspective (if you ask me) for someone who puts on ID channel to sleep by.

In another of the many ironic things that would occur on this trip, it happened that the road on which we were traveling  sort of looped around to Talladega prison, which meant that a colony of serial killers, murderers, rapists, thieves and probably one poor soul guilty of some con artist sceme, actually were habitating in the direction Tammy had pointed.

The "ghetto Garmin" (as Tammy affectionately calls it) had faithfully lead us up Florida, around Jacksonville, around Atlanta and into Alabama. Only to fall completely usellessly into nothingness when we needed to take a detour on State Road 21. We would later learn that the detour was due to a huge sink hole.

  Deep breaths fortified us as we pulled over to a sort of "Shop-N-Go" which Tammy deduced was in a not so savory part of town. However, when we went in, and I came back from the ladies room, a very nice woman at the register was writing down directions for Tammy. It turned out to be excellent guidance, which was substantiated by our (now) yelping Garmin to the Days in hotel we were guided to stay at, in Lincoln, Alabama.

 Six months prior, Ryan had received a call from his mother, she was terminally ill and wanted him to come to her.  To quote the song "things got bad, then things got worse", as Tammy heard from him when he arrived in Alabama and then....no more phone calls. Not only that, but he didn't return her phone calls.  Then other breaches of security involving her Sams account and  Verizon phone, left Tammy despondent and angry.

Then, in September, Tammy and I were having lunch at Steak-N-Shake, and she received a voice mail from Ryan. His mother had died. Tammy has an unfaltering sense of loyalty to family. She returned his call. After a rather acidic back and forth, Tammy was crying in the booth, only to receive another phone call...not from Ryan. This call was from Janice, the woman with whom he was living. Janice was a woman that Ryan had lived with, and with whom he had had a relationship for 25 years, prior to his coming to Florida to be with Tammy (a year before).

Ryan told Tammy that the relationship with Janice had ended 10 months prior to Tammy and him reuniting in Florida. No (apparent)Contact from Janice (and related family) for the year Tammy and Ryan were journeying through their relationship, seemed to speak that the relationship was, in fact, kaput.

--Back to the present:

The next day, after the lunch on the precipice of hell (which, surprisingly to me, happens to be in a specific booth in Steak-n-shake) Tammy approached me with some observations and concerns.

She was regretting the way she spoke to Ryan and had called and asked Janice to call her back.

I listened intently to her sad regret. But then she said something else. Her blue eyes rimmed with bitter tears, she said, "I think something's wrong there. There's something in the tone of his voice in the message he left me. I think, somehow he's stuck and can't get out.".

GOOD PEOPLE-4

The first time I worked with Nathan and Bonnie Thom was an amazing (and intimidating) experience for me.

They are exceptional music leaders for our church who completely grasp the concept of "Majestic Worship".

Anyway, they were filling in for our (then) music leader, and I was there with a Vegas professional bassist (Rennie), Nathan Thom (former employee of Capitol records) and Bonnie Thom (keyboardist, exceptional pianist and vocalist).

At the end of the 2 1/2 rehearsal, I remember saying to them "You guys really work hard!".

Of course it was true, and of course, I had no idea just how hard. They have a family , full time jobs and lead all the music in our church.

If that were the end of the grace that flows through them, that would be enough. Bonnie, after receiving an email from me, called immediately to resolve an issue I had involving my own absence in the music program (precipitated mostly by Bonnie and Nathan's predecessor).

She listened, she offered. She included me.

Later, when I sang a solo in church, Nathan worked and worked on the sound with me until it was "right"..."really right".

I can't begin to explain how blessed Walt and I have felt , Sunday, after Sunday, when they have been there, to lift our spirits. I'm sick, somehow Bonnie has chosen "This is the air I breathe", just the praise I need to bring me beyond the smallness of my problems to the greatness of God.

 I'm low energy, the praise band is spilling out the windows with "Yes, LORD, "Yes, LORD, Yes, Yes LORD, AMEN!".

 I'm feeling nostalgic , and somehow, Nathan is ripping on "Jesus is the Rock that Rolled my blues away".

 The ribbons of talent run through their family, truely, like the blood of Christ himself.

 A son that plays base, and a daughter, who's voice rivals Celine Dion, God has been blessing and blessing us with their presence through this last year.

Through some difficulties in their lives, Walt and I have been touched to be "touch-stones" for them in prayer.

Unfortunately, they are going through despairing times now, and I have been consumed by my own illness.

 I'm reminded of something someone told me (I don't remember who, or when) sometimes you don't have to stand tall. Sometimes, you just have to stand UP.

I'm remembering for them, that Christ is still on the thrown. I'm remembering for them God's unchanging hand (and ours) is extended to them.

I'm believing and complete and utter victory for them.

The trials of Job did not last forever.

Neither will this.

In Walt and my heart, our souls and our perception,

Nathan and Bonnie

you are good people.

Until Next time,

Eat something wonderful

and live a life worth loving.

GOOD PEOPLE-3   

I'm beginning this blog with a statement about myself that might be surprising to some of the professionals and my friends, who know how involved I've been in the medical community (of late). Until recently, I truly haven't had much confidence in conventional medicine.

Hardly a stunning revelation coming from someone who was (in early life) a vegetarian, then for 6 months a fruitarian. I've worked in a health-food store, and I still have an acupuncturist/Chinese medicine practitioner that I see.

 Inundated by the non-conventional health community with the evils of "hybriding corn-seed" , the evils of inoculations, and the terror stories of antibiotics and steroids in mainline store meats, I was a convert.

 Even, as I have aged (not so gracefully) my suspicion about the AMA-approved medical community has maintained steadfast.

   Because I have had an illness treated by standard methods (type 2 diabetes), our insurance dictated a process, that I knuckled down and acceded to.

I learned that some Primary Care Practitioners (as least ONE that I can think of) don't like practicing medicine very much...or maybe he just doesn't like patients...or maybe he just didn't like me. It matters little, a string of PCP's had me thinking that they were a necessary evil to the insurance process (what I've come to think are the real culprits in the healing system, imho).

 For some time I've had the same Primary Care Physician, going in, on the pre-required intervals.

Dr. Ruberte' would come in with his computer, ask me questions (including what prescriptions I needed) and zoom out of the room. It was a bit like a medical hit and run. Although, I kind of liked that, because I seemed to have the same attitude he did. Lets get this done and move on.

We went along like that until this February, when , on my regularly scheduled appointment, I arrived in his office with bronchitis. He listened to my lungs, diligently, ordered some antibiotics and said "if you're not doing better soon, don't wait, call in".

Actually , as it happens, about three days later (2:00 am) found my husband taking me to the Er, for shortness of breath. They infused me with elixers and sent me home. My follow up was ok, but Dr. Ruberte, looked at me bewildered and said "what the heck happened?".

A week (nearly) later, I'm admitted to the hospital through the ER. Every morning, Dr. Ruberte' came in with energy, and enthusiasm. So intent on finding out what was wrong with me.

The X-ray's a-typical for pneumonia, he's a bit confused but "we're going to find out what it is".

He calls in specialist, and each morning explaining what's going on and saying "we're going to figure this out. We're going to get well."

After my release from the hospital, my recovery has (obviously) not been stellar. I visited Dr. Ruberte again. He patiently explained the difficulties of prednisone. When I mentioned my pulse ox, he immediately brought in (two) monitors, called my pulmonologist, and had me on oxygen (I had requested oxygen from my home care organization after hospital visit, and was told my vitals were "too good" for the oxygen).

After this visit, I asked if I could say something to Dr. Ruberte' from my heart.

He said "Sure" and looked up from his computer.

I told him "From February, when I came in with bronchitus, ALL you and your staff have done is try to make me well. I appreciate that more than you know."

He stopped for a beat and searched my face.

 "That's what we do here, Kimberly. We make people well."

I have to say, even though it's been a rough several months,

Dr. Ruberte' is starting to make me a believer.

In my eyes, he is Good People.

Until Next time,

Eat something wonderful

and live a life worth loving.

Good People-2

"Sometimes you have to be laying on your back, to actually look up"

I've said it to some of my sick friends and clients time and time again.

Never really expecting it to apply to me. However yesterday, I learned

another lesson. Sometimes you have to be sitting still to receive a blessing.

Sometimes, all you have to do is answer the phone.

   Regressing for one moment, allow me to offer a bit personal history.

I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes in 1998. I was grossly overweight,

and not taking care of myself.

  Over the years I've had a couple of endocrinologists, all well-meaning and offering me lots of council and loads of "tough love". "Your sugars are out of control" I remember one plainly speaking to me. He was right. All I felt was panic and hopelessness.

One was very kind but a bit nebulous "Yeah this is high, but could be this, and sinusitis and..." She was helpful when I needed to change meds and a good doctor.

But once in a while, one is lucky enough to find a true healer.

   As I mentioned, I've been suffering with a-typical pneumonia, for two months and this week it was time for my regular appointment with my endocrinologist.

There is something about her that , when I started going to her, made me believe I could actually get better. Before this illness, my A1C had gone down 4 points. I was walking, I was giving up other self-defeating behaviors. I started taking my blood sugar two and three times a day. I had guidance on using straight insulin (giving up the silly stigma that "if I'm on pills, it's not really diabetes"). She believed I could get well too, which

was a revelation to me.

However, I couldn't attend my appointment with her. My diligent husband (computer geek that he is) keeps my blood sugar readings, I'm sure they're on some sort of spread sheet, I haven't had the courage to ask. . He (as he always does when it's time for my appointment) sent Dr. Solitos my blood sugar readings, along  with the information that my pulmonologist had just prescribed prednisone. The nurse at the pulminologist (Annette) had warned me that my blood sugars would get high because of the steroids.

  To my surprise, I'm sitting on my futon when my phone rings. My illness dictates I answer all phone calls coming from "Health First", and when I did, it was my endocrinologist, Dr. Solitos.

I asked how she was, she said fine, and then opened with "I'm so very very sorry you''ve been so sick, for so long."  We talked a bit about the history of the illness, and my plan to deal with the high sugars which will ensue due to the prednisone. I told her the date of my biopsy.

She said "I'm so worried about you.". It touched me. I said "Don't worry. I have the best team." She sounded confused, and said "The best team?" . I said "yeah, I even have an endocrinologist who calls me on off office hours just to see how I am." She laughed kindly and said "I will be praying for you, on the 18th, Kim."

With tears in my eyes, I thanked her.

In my mind and my heart,

this extra mile, which was a short phone call,

makes Dr. Solitos Good people.

Until next time,

Eat something wonderful

and live a life worth loving.  

GOOD PEOPLE

Being ill and (mostly) house-bound for the last two months has given me (WAY too much) time to reflect.

So I've decided to devote my space on facebook/blog to GOOD PEOPLE which I have encountered during this very trying time.

The first Good Person I want explore is a man named Walter Willis.

During the best of times, I am a trial for the will. My emotions are passionate, fierce and

unrelenting. Yet, my beloved Walt perseveres. I don't know how, and I confess I'm vexxed sometimes as to why.

When my father passed , he was there, dealing with all of the minutia my brain could not contain. Shortly after my mother became ill and eventually moved in with us.

He never asked "why". He never said "No". Countless hours on the phone trying to get her finances in order, spelling me, when my mother was bed-ridden, and there with me on July 4, when there were no hospice helpers to be had, and my mother passed away.

I've been sick for two months and, the illness is serious and the consequences and finances catastrophic.

Each day he comes home (most times with a new prescription for me). He tells me how loved I am by other people. He tells me he's praying for me. He tells me I'm going to get well, and he forces me to eat dinner.

At 2:00 am when I'm coughing so hard and painfully I cannot breathe, he's up, with a cold compress for my neck, medication for the spasm, and soothing words.

In my perspective, that makes him a Good Man.

Most likely, one of the best.

Thank you , God for bringing Walt into my life,

and giving him the patience to stay.

Re-Couponing 2013

RE-Couponing????

It seems each year I find myself making a new start to my couponing efforts.

I've come to the conclusion that I don't "organize" the way that I've read other couponers organize.

:::shrugs::: Why should couponing be any different?

Anyway, I really liked the Couponizer, when I tried it. But I have this tendency of separating "Grocery" items from things I usually purchase in a drugstore.

Add to that, I like my "Restaurants" separated from the "department & specialty stores", and I end up with four "coupon& shopping" organizers. Add to that, I can't stand the idea of not doing things with my usual "stylish flair" and before you know it, soon, I've got a very expensive couponing system, with which that I am (usually) frustrated.

The truth be known, I've been pouting ever since my favorite pumpkin tote containing my Magellan GPS, and three of my favorite  (and personalized) coupon organizers, was stolen from my car, while it was parked in my churches parking lot . I was there to do volunteer work for the office.

(sighs)  

This year, I decided "Why fight it?".

So last year, I replaced my Magellan. (step one completed-bought it from a Pawn shop, got a great deal).

I've had a coupon organizing binder which "turns into it's own tote" called a CouponClutch.

http://couponclutch.com/

Mostly, what I've used this for, in the past, was to demonstrate to my couponing students the many methods for organizing one's coupons.

I had ordered this in a "dollar bill" print to help to remind me that I'm saving money.

Another of the items taken was a Coupon Wallet (http://www.thecouponwallet.com/)

also, in the same dollar bill fabric. It happens I had ordered two of those. One for me to use, and

one to have for my couponing class as demo.

The Coupon Wallet taken, had contained all of my gift cards (ok so there won't so many of those left)

and my loyalty cards.

So this week, I set to the task of calling company's and replacing my loyalty cards.

Because the "binder method" is something I like but (as I said before) I tend to "segment", I was looking for something to contain my grocery coupons.

On the internet, I found this interesting coupon pouch created by a company called "Glowgirl Fibers".

www.glowgirlfibers.com.

Not only did this system house 500 coupons (and that's the "small one") but it came in---guess what? YES that dollar print fabric. It's machine washable, and you can choose your own lining color (I chose purple).

So determined to make a fresh start, I set to creating new labels for my organizers.

One of the things I really liked about the Couponizer is that it comes with a coupon organizing "mat".

Although, true to form, I ended up using two couponizers and creating some of my own organizing mats for  my own system.

I found a youtube video from a lovely woman in Canada, who used to be a librarian. She created her own sorter based on the organizing she used to do with the cards that books used to have in the back

 (I think some still do here in the states).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4C4rjQgeqWA

Soon I found I had made two such coupon sorters (one for grocery, one for NON-FOOD organizer).

What delighted me is that it actually works, and I don't have to worry about one of my beloved feline friends jumping in the midst of a mat and thwarting my sorting efforts.

So there are some innovations in coupon organizing.

Replacing loyalty cards --check!

Instituting a new couponing organizational system for the year----Check!

Actually cutting out coupons and sorting them and putting them into my couponing system---Check!

Doing all of this in a "stylish way" ---check.

However...(sighs)

The tote that was taken came with a Halloween shirt, from a company called "Quacker Factory" , which is sold (mostly) through QVC. I remember the event when I bought it.

My mom (now passed) bought it for me. Said I would get so much use out of it.

I baulked at the price, but she insisted.

She was right.

Each fall I would break out the shirt, denim blue which (somehow) matched anything I put on (usually jeans). Later, when my husband and I got heavily into couponing, it carried our couponizer, our binder, my restaurant wallet, my store wallet...and one day when I was in a rush, I stuck my Magellan into it.

It didn't matter to me that it wasn't fall, when I carried it. the denim fabric with the orange pumpkins made me happy. It made me happy to carry a memory with me (nearly) every day, and think of mom insisting that I would love it.

The company does not make the set any more.

I miss it so desperately.

Yes, I do have other totes, and yes, I will (regrettably) replace it.

I can't "replace" the happy and comfortable feelings I had using my tote.

Certainly, I can't replace my memories with my mom, that using the tote gave me.

It just seems to drive home the fact that once a loved one is gone,

they are gone forever.

Being a medium, I used to try to comfort people by telling them "they are still with us" (speaking of

lost loved ones).

"They still love us and watch over us".

I think that is true.

But I can't seem to shake the feeling that it's one string cut in the connection.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

May your new year bring you joy, health and prosperity.

Until next time,

Eat something wonderful

and live a life worth loving.

-Kim