There is only one good thing abut being ill - and that is the appreciation you feel when you get better.



I am surprising myself by a newly-discovered snarling, hackle-rising fury over a age-old (well, since electricity became available in houses) Christmas tradition - holiday lights. People put them all around the house, set up neon nativities, wired Santa & reindeer in the front yard, and happily flick the switch at dusk to allow the lit splendor (sic) to shine all night.



But out in the country, at least our country, we have some pretty strict light-pollution laws already in place. When I first moved out here almost eight years ago, I quietly giggled at the concept of light "pollution" and dismissed it as a nit-picky code for people to use when the 100 watt bulb on their neighbor's porch was too bright, and they would take them to court to get a 60 watt bulb in instead.



However, now that the lights of the nearest (and rapidly growing) city are washing out some of our night-sky views, and the flood-lights of the latest Border Patrol substation west of Naco are on ALL night, I begin to realize that, unless checked, this may become as bad as L.A. when I was growing up - if you could see five to ten stars at night, that was a big deal.



And I thoroughly enjoy each (non-overcast) night (which is the majority here) the incredible expanse of night-sky - the Milky Way in all it's glory - the meteorite showers that surprise you with their quickness and brightness - how more and more stars appear the longer you stay out until your head begins to spin with the sheer magnitude of space.



We do not have streetlights of any sort out here, all outside lighting is supposed to be 'shielded', and with rural zoning, land parcels must be a minimum of four acres. But with the 'new' people moving out, wanting paved roads and convenience stores, this is all coming under attack.



So I have discovered that I am an OLD FASHIONED SAYING NO TO PROGRESS SHOOT OUT THE NEW LIGHTS GOSH DARN WITH MY PISTOL B&^TCH!! Well, not shooting anything out... yet. But quite suddenly all of those Christmas lights are NOT on my good list.

I need to go back to school, get a degree in mental health, and get PAID for all the free counseling / advice I simply GIVE away every day. Either that or someone needs to make up a legitimate-sounding-enough alphabet-soup that can follow my name and give me enough credibility to publish a book. How about W.L.T.G.T.C.J.F.E.A.N.A.D (Whole-Lotta-Time-Going-To-College-Just-For-Education-And-Not-A-Degree)?

However, I obviously have not been banned completely from the Benson School District - I got a call today for another piano tuning at the middle school. The only problem is that they need it done NOW (early next week), so I'm going to have another day of crazy driving in opposite directions to get to (now) two tunings AND a church event (showing support for a very small - read that three sisters last time - group that is writing our missionaries and/or service people every month).

And why am I complaining? I'm getting paid for all of this - two with money, one spiritually.

I am seriously beginning to doubt myself. I mean, I have been tuning pianos off and on for more than a few years, and generally when I am done with a piano, it sounds better. That's the entire idea.

Now I have made THREE trips to Benson for TWO pianos - and will be going the third time to another one in Hereford. What is wrong with me?! Or are there evil genies hiding behind the keyboards and messing me up on purpose? A curse from another tuner I don't know about in town?

So I am dealing with it the only way I know; forcing myself to PRACTICE more. I have a decent Yamaha at home, and I can play/work with it for hours if I need to - and I think I need to.

However, it is also n0t a whole lot of fun to untune your piano and then retune it. I guess I should look positively at the situation - I will have a fridge full of Caffeine-Free-Diet-Dr-Pepper on hand, two dogs will will watch me adoringly, and a cat will will insist on walking on the keyboard occasionally to play "As Time Goes By." And I can take a break anytime I want without having to worry about the person who is paying me walking in.

Okay, now can someone remind me of these wonderful aspects tomorrow when I have to take my Yamaha apart?

I am officially an old person now.

Driving has always been a major form of recreation to me. I mean, I grew up in L.A., and if you can't deal with the freeways, you don't survive (actually, not quite that bad, but....). In fact, I got a great quote forwarded to me today: "If you raise your children to be nice and polite, they'll never be able to merge onto a freeway."

But (back to driving) some of my best memories are from cross-country driving trips... well, maybe I better admit that those are cross-country trips with my DAUGHTER. Although the Kalamazoo to Las Vegas straight-through-no-stops-except-for-bathroom-breaks-with-a-puppy-in-the-car-through-MAJOR-rain-deludes-and-tornado-warnings was sort of fun also...

However, after driving to Benson, ONLY 48 miles north of me, on Friday, yesterday AND today - my butt is tired, my eyes are tired, I am even tired of iPod songs that I have CHANGED for each ride!!!!

So there is an old lady inside of me whining and complaining, and I'm afraid, VERY afraid, that I am going to start LISTING to her!!

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Okay, I have been dealing with a professionally paranoid, cynical and negative individual for some thirty years. This dude has made a living from thinking of what bad people could do, and then figuring out how to build a defense against that. Suffering from severe depression all of his life may have helped some of that destructive thought-process, but again, this is nothing new.

So tonight I got just a little bit scared when he calls from the grocery store (commissary, to us military types) and is undergoing a panic attack - just simple fear of being surrounded by people. And by the time he got home, he was convinced that 'someone' was outside - asking me, "do you always have the shades part way up? Can they be put down?" and "Why did the porch light just go on?" "There is someone outside, I am certain!"

The only positive aspect of this is that he RECOGNIZES that this is paranoid and abnormal behavior, and he doesn't usually feel like this. And he did agree fairly quickly to taking a sleeping pill and going to bed.

It's probably a good thing that I know his psychiatrist as well as I do - an appointment tomorrow will be made if this is still happening in the morning.

I'm also trying how to work tomorrow. I went up to Benson (about an hour and a half drive) Friday morning REAL early for a two-piano job - went back TODAY since they have a concert tonight, and it needed a touch-up.... and now am expected back TOMORROW for the follow-up on the second piano and since they have a half-day... but I also have to be up in Benson DAY after tomorrow for a counseling appointment!

Gas ain't cheap anymore, my truck doesn't get hybrid mileage, and I am honestly TIRED of making this three hour drive every day. But I also want to keep the business, the customers happy, and the work moving along. So I guess the idea of going out tonight and letting the air out of my own tires isn't such a great idea, is it?

Any other suggestions, I am open to. But I may be checking the afore-mentioned-individual into a Tucson mental institution - that would a very novel excuse, and it would save me from telling a lie.

I here admit publicly (how much more public can you get than the Internet?) that I am a biased, prejudiced, very unfair individual. I normally (following my husband's teachings that over-tipping generally leads to much better service & attention the next time) (although I don't necessary tip as drastically as he does - 20% is okay, 60% is silly) tip whomever loads my hay at the feed store onto my truck (and sincerely wish that I could tip them enough to take them home and the UNload the stuff - oh, my aching back!).

And today I did NOT tip the dude that loaded my seven bales of alfalfa because he ended up being almost the epitome of a redneck - self-described "Irish Kentuckian" former Army Ranger, who maintains that 70% of the oil drilled in Alaska goes to the Japanese, "who own most the U.S. and we should have just bombed all to *@)$(* at the end of WWII", same option for the Middle East after the first Gulf War, and "there is MORE than enough oil for EVERY one in the world in the Texas and Arkansas fields - they just cap the wells and keep it a secret from everyone."

So... does that make me as bad as he is? I honestly believe any person capable of making you angry can control you - and I let this guy REALLY irritate me!

I also don't recycle my Caffeine-Free Diet Dr. Pepper soda cans - so I'm going straight to hell, I know.

However, I am incredibly proud of how professionally I handed not one but TWO calls today about, um, er... pianos not holding their entire tune from past week. I masterfully blamed it on our rather extreme weather over the weekend (rain, dropping temperatures, and CRAZY wind up to 80 mph which blew over a lot of trees, roofs, and brick walls... really!), and immediately offered a return visit for a free 'fix-it." Both clients/customers gratefully accepted, and I breathed a great big sigh of relief when I hung up. One thing a piano tuner does NOT need is unhappy piano-players - we really do rely on repeat business.

And I was also unrighteously proud of my daughter's observation of me starting and (hopefully) my own business - it is so nice to have hard work (and a real leap-of-faith for m) acknowledged. So thanks, kiddo (besides, you are the only one who reads this late-night ramblings of mine!!).

Harmony mentioned something yesterday that I hadn't really thought about before; she was having a difficult coming up with something for her blog if she didn't 'feel' like writing. I guess I just always imagine I am talking to someone who can't interrupt, can't argue, and HAS to pay attention to whatever I am saying! Sort of like talking to Murray.

I am trying to write this, finish up my laundry, watch re-runs of "Firefly", watch for essential email updates so I can hopefully get the ward bulletin done TONIGHT instead of the 9:25 a.m. Sunday morning scramble, AND deal with a headache (which I think is simply my eyes trying to tell me that I've been on the computer for too many hours today).

I think the expression "multi-tasking' came into play with some man came up with it to make himself sound better on his work evaluation - it's what we women have been doing for centuries before.

I was jokingly accused of 'bribery' tonight when I ordered a pizza for my second child (it's a deal we have - if she works more hours than she is scheduled to, I get her a combination pepperoni/ supreme medium). And although it's four hours until the Sabbath, and I will probably be struck with lightening for this observation, isn't sort-of long-term bribery what Heavenly Father uses on us? Promise for celestial glory - eternal families - exaltation? I guess it sounds better to say 'promises', and it definitely isn't instant gratification (which is what my second child works on), but really, isn't it bribery?

(Okay, I'm ready for that zap - KABOOM!!!!!)