Recently, I was asked if I’m trying to be “like the Pioneer Woman.” Hmm. I couldn’t decide whether to be offended or flattered. Considering the source (a friend from Twitter), I decided she probably had no ill will. And how could I possibly be offended by such a comparison? Well, I’ve worked really hard to find my voice, build my audience, define my brand. I’ve only moderately stalked Pioneer Woman’s site, and to be honest, it’s a bit intimidating. My feet are (probably) way larger than hers, but she has incredibly big shoes to fill. She’s spent years building her online presence until she became a household name (and got her own TV show).

While I would love to bring in the kind of income Mrs. Drummond does, I’m not …

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Look good? Yep, it is.

Disclosure: This is NOT a compensated blog post. This is just me, telling you about a product I love. I did get a small sample from the company a couple of months ago, but would have written this post regardless. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll give a sample away to one of my readers if I ask nicely. 🙂

I have a confession. I like candy, a lot. Almost as much as I like Matt Damon. (It’s okay, hubs knows this is my celebrity crush.) And do you know what they both have in common? UNREAL. UNREAL Candy, that is. He’s one of many celebrity endorsers featured in this “Candy Manifesto.” But, he’s not the reason I’m writing this post. If you’re a fellow candy lover, or chocolate lover, you’ve got to …

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The grocery shopping trip from you-know-where. (image from

I just got home from grocery shopping (and Sam’s and Target and Walgreens). Oh, I can hear you now. “Well, woop-di-freakin-do! Big deal!” Well, let me assure you it is a big deal. Why? For starters, it’s 11:30 at night (even though you’ll probably be reading this during your first or second cup of coffee in the morning). But aside from my late-night arrival at home, let me back up a bit and let you know what transpired during that shopping trip (and afterwards). I just can’t make this stuff up.

My evening started out fabulously. My husband put the oldest to bed so I could jet off to town (40 some minutes away) to do some much-needed errand running and grocery shopping. Yes, I could have …

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Stroll me right to the psychiatrist’s office. I need medication.
(image from

I’m passive-aggressive about cleaning, even in my car. I’m all casual and “go with the flow” until something drives me over the edge. Today, I was driven over the edge. I took the girls outside to play, and decided I’d do something productive. So, I attempted to “throw a little trash away” from my car. Well, once I opened the door, I realized it was worse than I thought. WAY worse. Toys everywhere, clothes everywhere, food everywhere. So much food, in fact, that our kittens kept repeatedly jumping into the car to grab a snack. “Oh Lord,” I muttered. No, really, I needed the Lord’s help for this one.

Trash was thrown away. Large crumbs were tossed into the yard for the chickens …

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Ugly on the Inside

Often mean and always judgmental. Just like someone else I know. (image from

“Freckles are angel kisses, that’s why you don’t have very many. The angels don’t love you as much as they love me,” she sneered. She stood with her hands clenched in fists on her hips, her platinum hair pulled back in a half pony tail, her bangs barrel rolled to perfection. Her clothes, her backpack, her shoes…everything about her was perfect. Except her personality. She was a bully. Often mean and always judgmental, her verbal attacks scratched like the claws of a tiny kitten. Even the tiniest of punctures could sting for days.

“Oh yeah?,” I snarled back. “My mom said that some people may be pretty on the outside, but they can be ugly on the inside. YOU’RE UGLY ON THE INSIDE!,” …

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I’ve found release, but am now bound by a new agony. Still, I know there is hope. (Image from

Recently,  I was asked by a class of college students what it was like to bear my soul when writing essay after essay about my brother’s suicide. How did I prepare? How did I handle the exposure? I wasn’t sure how to answer the questions, because honestly, the way it unfolded, and why, was a mystery even to me. Sure, I knew I was trying to find peace and closure. I knew I found a desire to turn these essays into a book someday. I knew that my desire to write (and write and write) could only be compared to Forrest Gump’s desire to run. I just did it. But I didn’t see the …

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