According to my résumé, I am a recent transplant into the Mississippi Delta, a wide-eyed idealist who had dreams of closing the American achievement gap. Yet, the woman speeding home from school is anything but an idealist, frustrated and exhausted by the reality of a day in one of America’s overlooked schools.

It’s on such days that I desperately want to bury my head under my comforter. Unfortunately, my Chihuahua waits for me at the door, impatient for his evening walk and completely unsympathetic to my depleted state. Grudgingly, I wrestle the jumping ball of pent-up energy into his leash and we begin to wander down Main Street.

"You better rub on some more sunscreen, Gwyn," Daddy muttered. He tossed the bottle at my five-year-old self and started lathering another white glob into his blue-veined skin. I was redheaded, light-eyed, and hopelessly freckled just like he was. The sun would crook its rays into sinister claws and scoop both of us into its fiery mouth within minutes if we didn't slather ourselves in gallons of sun goop. Pale people have to be pro-active about protecting their complexions.

My father inspected his arms, worked the excess sunscreen into his elbows, and then glanced at me. "Put some on your ears."

"Yes, Daddy." I placed a dot on each ear.

"No, Gwyn," my father said, smiling. "You'll need more than that." He knelt before me and squirted a puddle of sunscreen into his fingers and then massaged my little ears until they tickled. "Perfect. No skin burn for you." I nodded, like I always did when words were unnecessary.

"You better rub on some more sunscreen, Gwyn," Daddy muttered. He tossed the bottle at my five-year-old self and started lathering another white glob into his blue-veined skin. I was redheaded, light-eyed, and hopelessly freckled just like he was. The sun would crook its rays into sinister claws and scoop both of us into its fiery mouth within minutes if we didn't slather ourselves in gallons of sun goop. Pale people have to be pro-active about protecting their complexions.

My father inspected his arms, worked the excess sunscreen into his elbows, and then glanced at me. "Put some on your ears."

"Yes, Daddy." I placed a dot on each ear.

"No, Gwyn," my father said, smiling. "You'll need more than that." He knelt before me and squirted a puddle of sunscreen into his fingers and then massaged my little ears until they tickled. "Perfect. No skin burn for you." I nodded, like I always did when words were unnecessary.

One of the big trends in the environmental movement lately is the idea that people should "buy local" rather than purchasing items that were shipped across long distances. Long-distance shipping negatively impacts the environment, and workers overseas are often exploited and forced to work in sweatshop conditions.

Yet, will it really be a useful tactic to encourage people to buy local in the short run? Other than going to a local farmer's market, there's no easy way to figure out what came from where. Most busy families simply don't have the time or consciousness to go out of their way for basic items such as food.

Written by Judith Blakley

Never try to attempt cleaning a house when there is a toddler around. You might end up having a nervous breakdown. It's just dangerous for your sanity. I know from personal experience. Yesterday, I tried to clean my daughter's house so we can leave to go back to my house today. And my 23 month old granddaughter caused me to have a panic attack by the end of the day. I honestly had to take a xanax last night. Here's the true story...

My goal yesterday was to do the laundry, dishes, clean my granddaughter's messy room, straighten up the living room and kitchen, organize the laundry room and clean the bathroom. I also had to pack my belongings and my oldest granddaughter's belongings. I expected to be able to leisurely clean while catching up on my shows that I'd DVRed. My daughter hates my favorite shows, so I was taking advantage of having her rest all day in her bedroom with the newborn baby to get everything done.

Written by Judith Blakley
This story is also published on: www.lovelaceway.blogspot.com

Saturday afternoon, I took my very ill 22 year old daughter, her newborn baby and 23 month old toddler to Walmart to get groceries. Bad move.

Liz, my daughter, lost a lot of blood during her delivery and her hemoglobin count is below anemic stage. She is not allowed to do anything - nothing. She can hold and feed the baby, that's it. She has been having nosebleeds, headaches and dizzy spells. When researching online how to deal with her symptoms, I learned that a hemoglobin count under 10 is lifethreatening. I already knew that she could easily and quickly bleed to death if she fell and bruised herself or tore something that was still healing, but now I had more to worry about. The more I learned about her condition, the more worried I became.

Written by Judith Blakley
(can also be read on www.lovelaceway.blogspot.com)

There are days in life where you truly know it's one for the record books. One of the hardest days in your entire life. Even though all of us have tough days, there are but few real hard days in each of our lives.

I've had a few - real true hard days.

I measure these record days as times when I've had to go through one of the most difficult things I've ever endured. These days usually involve the pain of others. But once it was because of my own physical pain.

Thursday, September 27, 2007 was one of those days.

My previous days of record were the day my father died, the day I learned my father-in-law had cancer and the day I was in the hospital thinking I was dying.

This is what happens when you turn your back on a two year old. Eggs splattered all over the kitchen floor. Only one survived the carnage.

She must have had fun because she seems to have carried a few to other parts of the kitchen prior to dropping them on the floor.

Yolks and milk everywhere. At least she got most of the milk into the pitcher of tea. I think she was playing at cooking. She poured half a gallon of milk into the little bit of raspberry tea that was left in the pitcher.

My guess is that when she pulled out the carton of eggs, it fell out of her hands and when she saw what happens when an egg breaks, she decided to break more.

Only one egg survived the carnage.

I have put togther a series of playlists of Dick and Danielle's final days in the Big Brother House, when they are stuck there alone together.

The normal Dick poor language and bashing former houseguests continue. He talks to himself, the camera, and even Zack (through the camera)

Danielle continues to whine and complain and trash former houseguests. She also fights with her father off and on.

It appears that Dick will split the winnings with Danielle if he is chosen as the winner, but Danielle will not do the same. This is the impression that I have gotten myself, plus heard from BB8 message boards from other people as well.

I will be adding to this article, as more videos and playlists get posted.

Day One:
www. lovelaceway.blogspot.com/2007/09/day-one-dick-danielle-alone-in-house.html

Day Two:
www.lovelaceway.blogspot.com/2007/09/day-two-dick-danielle-alone-in-hous...

Day Three:

Dick won the final HOH competition on tonight's live episode and evicted Zack. Dick and Danielle are the final two. Father and daughter win.

I will post videos of their celebrations in the house once live feeds come back on. This may be several hours, as the television episode has not aired on the West Coast yet.

As I am trying to keep up with my personal blog in updating my daughter's friends and our family on her labor, I will only be posting the video links for this article in one spot.. please go to the following website for updates on Dick and Danielle's celebrations tonight:

www.lovelaceway.blogspot.com/2007/09/dick-danielle-win-big-brother-8.htm...