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Life

Life in our house is never average!



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Rally the Troops


Words to inspire and encourage



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Mystery Shopping

It's no mystery...
I love my job!

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Free Pottery Lessons

These lessons will give your child a chance to explore pottery.  Fun and easy - Projects can be made with clay or Play-Doh.

A City Girl's Guide to Living In the Sticks

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Stuff I've learned.
 
 
Mr. Everything


The man of my dreams and the father of my children. (I guess that makes him the baby daddy.)  I call him "Mr. Everything" because he can fix everything, can do everything and knows everything.  He isn't a know-it-all.  He's just really that smart.
The Beetle


I have no idea why he is called "The Beetle."  That's just his name.  He has been The Beetle since he was born.  He is my picky, finicky, tender-hearted gentle giant.

The Goose


When she was a baby, I would say, "The Beast is stirring," when she was waking up.  Her brother changed that to "The Goose," and The Goose was formed.  She is persistent, bold and frustrating, and I wouldn't trade her for anything.
 
 
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I’ve been chewing on the idea of writing a blog for quite some time now.  I can’t admit how long.  That would tell you what a procrastinator I am.  However, I will tell you that I could have gestated and birthed a baby or two (or maybe three) in the time that I have considered writing.

So, here is the question: Why am I writing?  I really have no idea, other than for my friends.  My friends tell me I should.  They say, though I doubt them, that I am a good writer.  I know I am a good editor.  I do that for a living.  A good writer?  I’m not so sure.  I will let you read my writing and determine that for yourself.  

A friend of mine told me the other day that she thought I was wise.  She almost said it with a straight face.  I laughed out loud, because I am anything but wise.  I have no wisdom to impart, so don’t expect any.  I feel like I am plugging along in this world just like you.  I don’t have answers.  Sometimes, I don’t even know the questions!  I fail.  A lot.  I am pretty good at laughing at myself, though.  I think that came from the failures.  You either laugh or cry, so I laugh. Crying makes me look all swollen.  It isn’t pretty.  Plus, if I cry, my mother can detect it for weeks after the fact.  She’ll say, “What’s wrong with you?  You look like you cried last Thursday.”  She always knows.  

Here is the other question:  Why are you reading this?  I can’t answer that for you.  You may have quit reading long before now.  If not, why not?  You won’t find wisdom here.  You won’t find guidance here.  You may not even find good writing here.  What you will find, I hope, is that I am real.  I am honest about my struggles and fears.  I do not pretend to be put together, or ‘with it’ or even well accessorized.  I’m just me.

This is not a religious blog.  It does have religion in it, though, because it is about me.  I have God, so my writing will too.  I can’t leave Him out, because He is central in my life.  So, hopefully, you can tolerate Him.  I hope you’ll get to know Him a little better through me.  I don’t intend to preach Him to you though.  You’ll have to see Him in my life for yourself.

I am a mother.  I am a wife.  I am a Christian.  I am a homeschooler.  I am an editor.  I am me, and I am Not Your Average Al.    -Al

 

    Alison

    Call me crazy.  Call me weird.  Call me when supper is ready.   Just don't call me average.

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    October 2012

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