Friday night on the town

Dan and I totally enjoyed a co-worker's swanky wedding downtown at the Amway Grand on Friday night. I won't recount the play-by-play of the ceremony because Dan did such a good job of it on his blog. I must admit that I did a (very unladylike) arm pump when I saw a woman conducting the ceremony. A local authoress, whose book I thoroughly enjoyed. But that's not what this post it about.

Dan didn't go into details on the food, so I'll do that since I'm either a food nerd or food-addicted.

As we walked up to the Hors d'Oeuvres table, (in my head) I was singing, "chese, glorious cheese!". There was a rather insipid cracker selection, but the plethora of scrumptious cheeses made up for it. I'm not talking cubed cheddar and swiss here, people. Creamy goat cheese rolled in a dried cranberry compote, dilled soft havarti, smoked gouda, green-flecked gorgonzola, and OK, there was some jalapeno jack and yellow cheddar cubed for the beginners. But overall the cheese platter was impressive and sumptuous.

Next in line were Swedish Meatballs. These were a very nice surprise. Usually brown and boring, there was something fresh in the meat mixture (parsley?) coupled with a tangy mustardy-sauce that really made these little guys POP. Hence, many of them were popping into my mouth throughout the night.

The third chafing dish held cod fritters that you could top with a chunky cocktail sauce. These were deep-fried goodness.

Easily recognizeable and surprisingly delectable were the quesadillas. I think the carmelized onions inside gave them a sweet, mellow flavor that made them a little more "dressed up" than one would normally imagine a quesadilla. (Stop read-nunciating it "case-uh-dill-uh" like in Napoleon Dynamite, gosh!)

Lastly were the mini-quiches. Which harbored a nice little surprise in the form of a kalamata olive in the middle.

The wedding cake was fluffy, the fillings were smooth, and the icing was seriously butter. But Dan and I both agreed that we've never had a wedding cake as good as ours was. And we're not just sayin' that. The east coast just killz when it comes to baked goods.

There were lots of smiles at the wedding, and two of them were definitely ours. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and each other sampling the food and beverages the evening provided (and got a good laugh when I realized I was drinking my white and still had a wad of gum tucked behind my molar--of course a spontaneous "Sideways" reference quickly ensued--"are you chewing gum?") dressed in new clothes that might be described as urban chic rather than the highschool/college formals/leftovers we usually don for such occasions, surrounded by good and good-looking people, and still only having eyes for each other.

groan

Things are tough right now for a lot of people. That verse where the holy spirit has to intercede on our behalf because all we can do is groan, can't even put what we are feeling into words--that verse makes a lot of sense all of a sudden.

I send out our church e-mail version of a prayer chain. Requests come in via phone or internet and I put them into words and send them out to people who have committed to praying for the requests that come through.

Some I shrug off and write with factual apathy. Others hit me in the gut and make me moan out loud.

Today I got one from a manager whose company gave him the task of laying off almost 20 people. The week before Christmas. When I mentioned this to my husband, he said, B____ called it--he said it's going to get really ugly from now until Christmas with companies laying people off etc. Ugh.

One of Dan's former co-workers lost her dad and his funeral is this week. The week before Christmas.

People are losing jobs, family members, living spaces, credit ratings, relationships, respect and who knows what else left and right. It seems like every hour something else comes to our attention about someone or other who is struggling with something. The week before Christmas.

That's where hope comes in. And I'm thankful I have that. Although sometimes I shake my head perplexed, dismayed, frustrated, annoyed at unfortunate situations people have put themselves in or disheartened by bad situations thrust upon unsuspecting and undeserving people, I know there is hope for all of them.

I groan for what I do not know how to express.

contemplative

I've caught myself staring off into space a lot lately. Since it never happens in front of a mirror, I have no idea what the expression on my face is when this happens. I can only hope it looks sage and wise, like I'm crafting zen verses, and not dull or perplexed as I fear the reality of this "look" might be.

I haven't been writing much often, and that leaves me feeling bloated and pent-up. Metaphorically that is. I'm afraid some of these starry-eyed spaced out moments often lead me to daydream about a room of my own. A place where I can leave the current and zap to where I need to go to mull things over, make sense of enigmatic dreams or thoughts that pop unbidden into my head. To hone my writing skills by practicing "shitty first drafts". Most of which only happen in my head and are lost with the phone shoulder-held to my ear listening to a voicemail while throwing together PBJ's and trying to negotiate a compromise between battling siblings. To pray for people or situations that are on my heart and mind, so they won't keep sitting there piling up subconscious weight of care that gives me shoulder-aches and audible sighs throughout my day. To sit down and write hand-written letters rather than the impersonal and probably-misconstrued e-mails that time constraints seduce me to instead.It's always sunny and quiet, and there's a squishy sink-into-me chair for reading and repose and a solid, sturdy table with ample surface area for work and creativity. Oh, and the sewing machine is there too so I can sew lace onto socks--because little girls must have lacy socks.

Counting down--and maybe into single digits?

It's been a crazy past few weeks here. With an impromptu trip to Oklahoma for my 2 1/2 year old and I, then a road trip to New Jersey for my Grandfather's funeral, and coming home to snow and a huge church event, we're barely surviving and craving a whole lot of sleep. (Not to mention so thankful we are in the waiting phase rather than the paperwork phase--we have all we can handle on our plates right now.)

As I'm reading through my e-mails and trying to count all the referrals that happened while we were gone, I'm estimating that we might have moved up 2-3 spots on the list. I'm waiting for the official "place in line" from our awesome Ethiopian adoption team at our agency.

I'll post the official number when we get the word, but I'm going to guess that we are about 8th in line now. If referrals keep up at this pace, we may know what our little guy looks like in 2008. We are content in God's timing, and thrilled to see the numbers falling off like the Wal-mart price roll-back commercials. Because that means there are kids with families...and families with kids. Soul-thrilling.

Grandpop

Last night Grandpop Hoffman went home to be with the Lord. He was 91 years old. It's odd to feel at peace knowing he is finally gone, yet having such a deep sadness that it keeps creeping up on me wave after wave.

So many memories. From sitting on his lap squealing in agony as he cleaned out my fingernails when I was a little girl to getting the "green stuff" when my report card was good. Changing my nickname from Cinderella to Princess because I didn't think it was high-ranking enough. Always threatening to come sit behind me in school and look over my shoulder to copy my answers because I was smart--always telling me I was going to become Dr. Hoffman and he'd be there to see it. Only committing to something with a "Lord-willing", and reminding us to always stick close to the Lord.

I've yet to meet a more humbly money-conscious man with as big and generous of a heart as his. He has left an impression and legacy for many to aspire to. Truly everyone who met Grandpop Hoffman went away from his encounter with a hearty laugh, a good meal, a prayer, a $20 bill, and a blessing on his life.

I'm gonna miss my 15 second phone conversations before he would "hand me back to grandmom", our little inside jokes, and just knowing that he's there for a hug anytime I'm in NJ. I know I'll see him again. Where his new body can keep up with his quick wit.

But now it's time to say goodbye. To grieve hard with my family. To remember him well and share how he has forever changed all of our lives. To celebrate a true man of God, a veteran who loved our country, and my Grandpop.

Book Review: My Little Girl

I ordered My Little Girl, by Tim McGraw and Tom Douglas, thinking "it's pink, so E will like it, but I know it's gonna be cheesy". I must admit, this skeptic was pleasantly surprised.

The pictures are captivating--colorful and likable. The storyline is down to earth and believable. Except for the really coutryish parts--I'm too citified to find excitement in dancing with chickens and riding in a pick-up truck.

I love the fact that this book made the mundane everyday tasks of the day "super spectacular special"--just because daddy and his little girl were together. It doesn't take a trip to Disney, a new Hannah Montana wardrobe, and an iphone to make a day special, it's just doing life TOGETHER that makes it so special.

I loved that at the end of the story there's a page where you are encouraged to spend some special daddy-daughter time and write your own story or memory.

I think I'd have to, begrudgingly almost, recommend this book!

Impromptu trip

Addi and I flew to OK for a long weekend. Wish we could have flown in one of Devon's jets (like this one), but alas we had to board the commercial flights with the masses instead. We had a great time visiting dad's hangar, eating mom's fabulous cooking, cruising around in the BMW, visiting with Andrew, Carrie & Chase, shopping 'til our feet hurt, laughing 'til our sides hurt, and making pizza bread along with a lot of memories.

It's been a bittersweet trip. It's easy and hard to leave more than half of my little family behind. I thoroughly enjoyed a little break and talking on the phone to L & E from afar--hearing their take on life from the other side of the phone.

It's been exciting being with Carrie as she's about to give birth any minute to Ian Douglas. Teasing her about doing jumping jacks, watching her frown at everyone who asks her when she's due, and listening to Andrew ask her if she's in labor yet and taking her for "walks" to try to get things moving.

At the same time my Dad had to grab a flight to New Jersey, where Grandpop Hoffman is in the ICU battling pneumonia post-op from hip replacement surgery after a fall last week.

So, we've got our cell phones glued to our hands waiting for phone calls. Each probably announcing the opposite of the other. And knowing that both are inevitable. For all of us.

as many as a cat's lives

This was us nine years ago. We still love eating cake together and still love to kiss (mmm...minty!). We still think each other are quite good looking and wish we could spend more time together. We've been through hell and high waters together, helping each other through some excruciatingly challenging situations. Testing the vows we took 9 years ago and finding that our words were simply indicators of the deep commitment we have to our relationship with each other.

There have been anniversaries where we've celebrated that the year is "over" and had to admit that we're relieved that we get to start a new one--hoping that it will be better than the year before. ("We get a do-over!" -Liz Lemon) And there have been years where we've celebrated because it's been a good year. This is one of the latter. God has been good to us. Making Dan for me, giving us a story and a history that enmeshes and intertwines in beautiful contrasts and complements.

So excited about keeping on this journey called life with you. We have some exciting stops coming up along the way and I couldn't ask for a better travel partner, my true companion.

(I had to borrow this from Jamin's recital acknowledgment to Angie, but it just seems to fit how I feel right now.)

Dan, I love you more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow.

Third one's a charm-er

Oh Addison Mabel. Here you are lining up your
underwear so you can count them carefully a few times,
then sort through and say, "maybe dis one?...No. Maybe dis one? No."on each and every pair before choosing (with a little help and lot of hurry from mommy or daddy) which pair to wear. Of course, we're trying to rush to get out the door, but you have your own little agenda, don't you?

Today at the mall, we just about died as you gave us all of 7 seconds warning, "I nee go potty...need to go pee-pee" before straddling your legs as far apart as you could and letting it fly like a fire hose onto the carpeted floor in aisle 4 of the Shoe Dept store. We just about died.

Since you no longer wear diapers, I no longer carry diapering paraphernalia on my person. Daddy was a man and told one of the associates there had been an "accident"...and when pressed admitted that it was actually a "pee" accident.

I just have to say, you're so darn cute. It's what makes situations like this one bearable and actually quite funny. And now, since I can hear you playing in your bed rather than napping, I will end this post here and go remind you that even though you are cute and adorable and that it is fun for me to listen to your little cartoon voice make all your friends and animals talk and sing (and even sometimes pray) you are still little and you still have to take a nap.

Book Review: In the Shadow of the Sun King

I received the book, In the Shadow of the Sun King by Golden Keyes Parsons, from Thomas Nelson free of charge as long as I agreed to review it. If you are interested in becoming a book review blogger as well, click here.

I ordered this work of historical fiction with a bit of trepidation. I don't usually read these types of books, but this summer I enjoyed reading a work of fiction about Marie Antoinette, so thought I'd give this book a chance.

When I received the book and saw that it was more than 350 pages, I was a bit worried that I might not finish it or might get bored with it. I started reading it and was initially put off by the sickly sweet description of the stereotypical French provincial setting. But I always give myself 5 pages before deciding not to finish a book. About an hour later, I realized I had lost all track of time and was a good 75 pages into the book, and definitely into the storyline.

At times I did a bit of skimming over some of the more spiritualized parts of the book. Although I applaud the author's ability to take an actual family history, combine it with historical fact and add a great dash of creativity in developing a story, I still found myself tripping over the religious "moments" portrayed by various characters throughout the book.

Though long in pages, the storyline keeps moving very quickly with some unexpected as well as some totally predictable twists and turns in the character's interactions.

I can definitely recommend the book without reservations to fans of Christian romantic historical fiction books. As the first in this series I would not hesitate to continue reading the chronicles as the author continues the saga of Madeline and Francois Clavell.

I can think of a few people I know who would probably enjoy this book, so I will pass it along to any of you who would like to read it next--just let me know.

CPS certification contemplation

The other night, Dan made an interesting comment. He said something to the effect (or is it affect? I can't remember) of, "if we had a nanny, we could make this work", in regard to us both being gone 9 hours a day every day this week.

I agreed, but then pointed out that neither of our "salaries" would be enough to compensate a nanny for our 3 (and in '09 our 4) children. More importantly, I realized that with the intense schedule this week has afforded, I've had about 2 hours a day with my family. And about 1 and a half of those hours have been eaten up by meal and bedtime routines. That leaves about a half hour of actual interaction time to split between a husband and 3 children. That is NO WAY to build relationships, trust, have any fun, or really do anything for that matter. It's just no way to live.

So, although I have thoroughly enjoyed everything in the list heretofore following, I'm looking forward to getting back to the really blessed life I have. Of getting to choose to be home all the time. Of getting to spend immense and intense amounts of time with my family during these formative years of our kids' lives.

Things I have enjoyed about this week:
Showering daily
Wearing a "new" outfit each day
Wearing earrings
Breakfast provided for me
Coffee made for me
Going to the bathroom by myself any time and as many times as I want to
Eating junk food and not having to hide it or share it
Having lunch
Having lunch made for me
Eating a meal that is still warm from start to finish
Learning new things
Listening, reading, taking notes
Taking quizzes and tests
Role playing
Teaching, educating, explaining
Talking to adults
Meeting new people
Being affirmed
Having people take an interest in me and get to know me
Driving in a car by myself
Letting my husband get to experience a day with the kids
Coming home to "mommy! mommy! mommy!" every day
Being greeted in the garage before I can even get out of the car
Little hugs and clamoring for my attention and affection and listening to 3 stories all at once
Listening to a day from my husband's point of view and in his riveting style of narrative
Planning a day out ahead of time so that it goes smoothly
Dropping into bed exhausted
Being able to handle this whole experience
Getting certified
Realizing how far I've come from those low, low PPD days
Waking up to an alarm clock
Needing to be somewhere
Brushing my teeth in the morning
Cracking jokes
Getting into "the community"
Doing something worthwhile
Doing something new and different
Rubbing shoulders with different people
Not being on the computer so much

Now playing: Ellison Jennaye turns 4

Since we're headed to family camp this weekend (Dan is the speaker) Elli's birthday has to be "on the road". Tradition is to decorate a cake in the theme of the child's choosing. Elli has had a hard time making up her mind this year--she's waffled between Holly Hobbie, Strawberry Shortcake, Hannah Montanna, and a truck (?). At the 11th hour (well, more like 8pm so it'd be done by the time the Office came on last night) I decided that a 9x13 cake would be easiest to transport on the 2 1/2 hour drive to camp.

I pureed a can of tart bing cherries and mixed it with a box of classic white cake mix. It smelled amazing while baking and is a blissful shade of pink--Elli's most favoritest color. This morning we mixed up some buttercream icing with a splash of almond flavoring to complement the cherry cake. I cannot wait to eat this cake!

I had Dan show me his ipod as well as find a good image of a pink ipod for me to use as the model for Elli's cake. For any of you who know Elli, music is second only to all things pink and princess in her life. When she is upset or afraid, she responds best to singing to help her calm down. She memorizes and sings songs she hears rather quickly and it will be intersting to see if she has the Scott-side-of-the-family propensity towards all things musical. She falls asleep every night listening to music, and has very decided opinions about what we listen to in the car.

When I proposed the idea of a pink ipod to her, she (dramatically) squealed in delight, hands fluttering to her face, and gushed about how that is EXACTLY the cake she has ALWAYS wanted.

She helped ice and decorate the cake. (Which is extremely hard for me because I always want to "do it myself"--but I'm learning that the cakes are more important to the kids when they contribute and help make them than if they look picture-perfect but have been ignored in the process). So here it is--in all it's "metallic" pink glory. (notice album cover of birthday balloons, play list, length of time music has been playing, and scroll wheel)

I know I'm kinda silly this way, but I "plugged" in the headphones and made her "listen" to her ipod cake for a photo.

This was a super fun (and easy) cake to make. And although it will be a little unconventional celebrating her birthday at family camp, I know it will be a lot of fun and make some great memories for Elli J.J.

the day-after thoughts

First of all, let me admit I have watched not a single political debate, commentary, commercial, NOTHING this year. On purpose.

So last night as I watched John McCain's speech (the first time I'd ever seen him speak) I said to Dan, "aww. I'm really sad I won't get to listen to more speeches from him." I was proud of my grandfather who did overseas tours in the army and my dad who was a helicopter pilot in the Navy. My family has given to this country, so I can identify with JM's sacrifice and feel that swell of pride in our country.

I wasn't nearly as impressed with Obama's speech (again, the first time I've seen him speak), but it's not about who is a better speaker. Not to me, at least. He does have great teeth. Maybe we'll all get dental benefits now?

Today while I was sweeping the kitchen floor, I was wondering what my parents were thinking about the election results. Probably not too pleased. I can tell from Facebook statuses and Twitter comments that there is a lot of fear and disappointment out there.

Although who I voted for didn't win, I know this decision was out of my hands. God knows what He's doing. I have to keep telling myself that because I find myself slipping into moments of not "feeling" that way. I guess there must be a lot of healing that needs to take place in our nation and in many individual's hearts. And I know that since I am so guilty of being embarassingly ignorant of history in general and black history specifically, I'll at least have some frame of reference for my new little guy. To be able to say, "hey, you're not the only one who is adopted. You're not the only boy with dark skin whose parents have light skin.You're not alone. Look at our president."

And that gives me hope.

There were some more close-to-home results last night that really affected us. Positively, we are thrilled that a township millage passed allowing a natural area or park on a huge parcel of land at the top of our street rather than the development with 110 cookie-cutter homes that a developer proposed, which caused our neighborhoods to band together and fight for many, many months. This is a HUGE victory and relief for us.

On a sadder note, I'm worried about the passage of the "legalizing the medicinal use of marijuana in Michigan" that happened last night. I started having visions of being in a car accident because of a stoned high schooler who had a "prescription" for his pot and losing one or all of my children, myself or Dan. But I can't let anxieties like that drive me and give way to fears and anxieties. I have to think of the cancer patients whose pain can be alleviated when this admission is enacted and administered as it was meant to be.

I was also heartbroken by the passage of our proposal 2 that allows for the expansion of stem-cell research. Again, pretty ignorant, but not feeling like it's a very good thing. But, again, I have to give it to God and trust in His goodness, not thrust the foundations of all my trust, warm fuzzy feelings, or fears for the future on mere, mortal man (and woman for all the PC'ers out there).

It's a new dawn, it's a new day. Let's start there and go with it.

My punkin

I was intrigued by the white pumpkins at the pumpkin patch this year. I thought I needed to either carve a snowflake (too soon?) or something else appropriately white into the pumpkin.

Most of the ghost templates were not quite to my liking. I found a very witty T-shirt design that featured Pacman as the "pumpkin" chasing a white "ghost". So I cropped and blew up the design, printed it out and carved.

We had to use some wire to suspend the ghost within the outline. If we were mechanical geniuses with unlimited access to Radio Shack materials, we could have automated it to make the ghost spin. But, we don't have the unlimited access to Radio Shack anymore...

The only bummer is that since candle flame burns orange, it makes my white pumpkin & ghost appear orange rather than white. I'll have to see if I can get one of them new-fangledy batt'ry powered pumpkin lights to keep the integrity of my project for Halloween night.

pink bubbles

Remember that show, "Dharma & Greg"? He's a straight-laced lawyer and she's a laissez faire hippie yoga instructor--and their marriage is a comedy of errors.

Other than some cheap entertainment, I took away the "put it all in a bubble and blow it all away" concept that Dharma uses.

I have a very, very full bubble today. I'm on the verge of bursting. Into wracking sobs, a screaming fit, or an emotionally catatonic state.

But none of those are very healthy options. For myself, or my 3 kids). So, I have no other option but to stand with my feet shoulder-width apart, raise my hands high above my head, swoop them out and make a ginormous circle for each "thing" that is causing me angst today. And once I've emptied my mind and filled my bubble, I will just blow them all away...up to heaven.

Rejoicing with those who rejoice

These past 2 weeks our agency gave out somewhere in the neighborhood of 8 referrals. That means there are 8 children who now have forever families. And there are families entering the most intense and anxious phase of their adoptions. They have to wait to pass court in Ethiopia. Which is completely and totally out of their hands. Once their child passes court and is officially "theirs", they can post pictures and names of their children on their websites. And they can start to make travel plans to go pick them up.

We are still nose-pressed-to-the-glass watching the mail for just 2 documents we need to finalize our dossier. Once we're on "the list" of families waiting to be introduced to our children, we'll breathe a lot easier.

Stylin' #2

Seriously, gotta love the knee socks here. This is my "Sunday best".

Bangs

My childhood Sunday school teacher posted some old pictures of us on Facebook. I just laughed and laughed at my bangs! This photo was taken at a Sunday school Christmas party at my teacher's home. She and her mom and sister are all very musical, so they sat down with instruments and gave us each a turn at conducting.
My sweatshirt is seriously stylin' as well.

Guess I'm about as fashionable now as I was then. Oh well. At least I'm fun, right?

Pumpkining

We had set aside tonight to foray out into the cold and carve pumpkins at a Starbucks "Carving & Coffee" event, but the S'bux employee who was supposed to be the event planner failed to execute said planned event. So, we had to come up with a plan to make this much-looked-forward evening turn out just as fun and exciting as getting to make a mess all over Starbucks' floor and drink coffee and eat pastries.

Since we had a busy morning playing with friends, dinner had to be a throw-together. I quickly browned some ground beef, added onion soup mix and water, and thickened it up. I mashed some yukon gold potatoes with butter, half 'n half and sour cream, and Liam chose brown sugar carrots for our veggie.

This was the first time I had ever served "ground beef and gravy" to the kids, I had no idea how it would go over. Let's just say we have a new recipe to add to our repertoire. We ate every last bite. This was one of my favorite meals growing up. Eating it was a trip down memory lane for me.

With a hot, hearty meal under our belts, we headed off to Mejier to buy some pumpkin carving tools to carve the patterns we had found and printed off the internet for each pumpkin. Hooray for some $ left on a Meijer gift card! We were even able to splurge on a donut for each of us AND some of those totally addicting candy pumpkins.

We raced home and started slashing our pumpkins like sugar-crazed maniacs. The kids were each allowed to pick out a candy pumpkin for each year of their age plus "one to grow on". We put on a Halloween CD we got from the library to set the mood. Dan mulled cider with a cinnamon stick to help the donuts go down. Then after one or two pokes and the kids getting "tired" of carving, Dan and I carved 'til our hands were numb while trying to keep the kids occupied, from sawing off appendages with the miniscule carving paraphenalia, and watching the clock to see if we could get these crazy things carved so we could light them up, snap a picture or two, then get the sugar-crashing and very tired kids into bed.

Liam insisted that the deer were going to eat their pumpkins if we left them out on the front porch overnight. The garage wasn't "safe" either (apparently). Dan did some fast-talking and convinced him that leaving the pumpkins on the picnic table of the back deck was perfectly safe. To which Elli promptly replied that the deer could just jump over the fence then walk up and eat them...we did a little "Debbie Downer" music and employed the "distraction" tactic as we herded everyone to their rooms to pick out PJ's and books.

What could have been a disaster due to disappointed plans turned into a fun evening indeed. One I will remember for many years to come. I love my little pumpkin carvers.

(Cinderella for Elli, Transformer for Liam, Mickey Mouse for Addi)
--have we been marketed or what?--

And the dish ran away with the spoon

"Leap of Faith...Leap of Faith"...
the little ditty from the musical "Rent" keeps running through my head any time I start to have a mis-giving about this adoption. About sending money out in a time when our economy seems to be going south.

This isn't our first leap. I think our first leap as a couple was moving to Michigan so Dan could attend seminary. Giving up secure jobs where we'd been offered 10% raises, an awesome first-floor-of-a-huge-Victorian-home apartment and close proximity to our families.

God has been so much the author of our story. We've had a few chapters that we tried to write ourselves, and thankfully God allows us the option of deleting or re-writing them. Like the chapter on the red mini van. That one was a mistake, but we're glad we can just hit the 'delete' button and keep on writing the next chapter.

There are chapters we don't really go back and read over and over again, but they are still part of our story.

There are some waiting to be finished. As I was reading "Bird by Bird" last night, I was reminded that writers are less thrilled with the final work than they are the process of writing. That helps me remember to enjoy the 'process' all the more and not shut down 'til I can skip to the last page and find out how everything turns out. 'cause I've never been that person. I refuse to skip ahead in books and in life. Word by word, page by page, I revel in the story as it unfolds.