Today the boys and I went to Lake Warren State Park, that is about five minutes from our house. Josh recently went there for a friend's birthday party, and I had forgotten how pretty is was. We spent our whole time at the playground, and the boys had a ball, even in the scorching heat. Their melted sundaes from McDonald's helped to cool them down between the monkey bars and the slides. Just as we were getting to our car, the thunder started to rumble...we had sprinkles all the way up the driveway...then the bottom fell out of the sky as soon as we all got inside the house. It was a beautiful summer rain, and it is still pretty cool outside. I am starting to love the Lowcountry summers again...

Black gold!

Fond gas memories:

$0.99/gallon-Lady's Island, S.C.-1998

$0.69/gallon-Somewhere outside of Rincon, Georgia, 1999

Ah, yes, those were the glory days! In 2000, we moved to Arizona and the first shock wave hit us. Gas over $3.00/gallon! We would often go to San Diego to the beach or the mountains, and the gas was fifty cents more...so we would fill up at the very last gas exit in Arizona, before crossing over into the crazy "no topping off" world of California. The tank would usually last us all the way to our destination, and then on the return, we would be running on fumes in El Centro (CA)...and have to bite the bullet and get enough gas to make it to AZ. Every night on the news, the hot story of the day is the price of gasoline around the country. (I am sure you are well aware!) I have been noticing that everyone loves to remind us that our gas prices are not so high, if you compare them to the rest of the world. As if this is supposed to make us feel better. Well, here you go. Here's the most complete list I could find. Tell me if it makes you feel better:



Country/Territory US$/gal


Sierra Leone 18.43
Norway (Oslo) 10.33
Turkey 10.14
Netherlands 10.11
Eritrea 9.58
Belgium (Brussels) 9.39
Denmark (Copenhagen)9.31
Germany 9.20
Portugal 9.16
Finland 8.90
United Kingdom 8.82
Italy 8.78
Sweden 8.71
Iceland 8.52
Hong Kong 8.33
Monaco 8.33
Spain (Madrid) 8.10
France 8.06
Ireland 8.06
Israel 8.04
Poland (Krakow) 7.80
Hungary 7.51
Croatia 7.38
Greece 7.38
Guatemala 7.38
South Korea 7.38
Slovenia 7.27
Switzerland (Zurich)7.12
Cyprus 7.08
Romania (Bucharest)7.00
Singapore 6.89
Estonia 6.78
New Zealand 6.13
Peru (Lima) 6.09
Japan 6.06
Uruguay (Montevideo)6.06
Brazil (São Paulo) 6.02
Australia 5.75
Dominican Republic5.72
Sri Lanka 5.53
Canada 5.15
India (NOIDA) 5.15
Ukraine 5.03
Chile 4.81
Moldova (Chisinau)4.69
South Africa 4.66
Philippines (Cebu)4.62
Thailand 4.58
North Korea 4.50
Vietnam 4.28
Colombia 4.05
Honduras 4.05
United States 4.05
Pakistan 4.01
Russia (Moscow) 3.97
Taiwan 3.97
Malaysia 3.18
China 3.05
Indonesia 2.46
Mexico (Mexico City)2.35
Nigeria (Lagos) 2.25
Trinidad and Tobago1.82
Brunei 1.48
UAE 1.40
Egypt (Cairo) 1.21
Bahrain (Manama)1.02
Qatar (Doha) 0.83
Kuwait (Kuwait City)0.79
Saudi Arabia (Riyadh)0.45
Iran 0.42
Turkmenistan 0.30
Venezuela (Caracas)0.11



Quite a list! So I began to think about this, and looking at who pays what. The "fabulous five" Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Turkmenistan, and Venezuela. Hmmm...I could go live with my buddy Hugo in Venezuela...Umm...maybe not! Last call for flight # 4125 to Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Iran!! I don't think so. Turkmenistan doesn't strike me as very appealing either. When we lived in San Luis, we waited forever at the local gas station...the long lines of people gave me plenty of time to see where all these cars were from....Sonora....Sonora...Sonora....Baja California...Sinaloa...oh LOOK- there's one from the U.S.! It seemed back then that all of Mexico was crossing the border to buy cheaper, cleaner gas from the mighty metropolis of San Luis, AZ. But it seems like now Mexico is about half the price our of our gas...hmmm...I basically lived in Mexico for 6 years...I could do it again!! Well, maybe not yet...we'll wait it out and see...but one thing's for sure, you have got to feel bad for those people in Sierra Leone! I know I'd be biking it, or buying myself a fancy shmansy pair of roller skates! Well, I guess for now, I'll stay here in little 'ol Luray. I am not trading my SUV in just yet, either.

Yay Josh!

Tonight, we took Joshua to his first Hampton Youth Little League trophy night at the ball fields. He was so excited, and a bit nervous, since he had never been to one before. He asked me lots of questions all day, like "Where will I stand and what do I do?" and "What if I drop my trophy?". I could tell the anxiety was getting the best of him when, about a half hour before we left, he said, "Mom, can you just go get the trophy for me?" Poor kid...he's a lot like I used to be. He's come out of his shell immensely since we moved back to South Carolina and he has gotten involved in children's church and the local sports leagues. Nevertheless, he still is a bit shy, which in a way, I am glad. He's such a cutie! (I know, I am a little bias!!) I'll be glad if the shyness stays with him through his teen age years and early twenties. I think that will save us all a lot of heartache. Anyway, all of his anxiety ended after the approximately ten minute "ceremony" was over. He shook hands with his coach correctly, and didn't drop his trophy! The night was a complete success! :)

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Schlemeel, schlemazel, hasenfeffer incorporated.

As far back as I can remember, movies and TV have been a part of my life. There is something about going to a theatre or popping in a DVD at home, sitting back, and entering someone else's "world" for two hours that intrigues me, even to this day. Around the holidays, we always loved watching It's a Wonderful Life, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Charlie Brown Christmas, just to name a few. I remember each Spring, as a child, laying down with our blankets on the living room floor, getting ready for the Sound of Music to begin. There was something about Maria and Georg that drew me in. I credit my Mom for the love of classic musicals...from all the Rodgers and Hammerstein, right down to Shirley Temple and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. My Dad would barely be able to tolerate these films, as he saw no point to all the singing. "Why can't they just talk?" he would remark at the dinner table...then he would proceed to sing to my Mom "Please pass the butter Barbara". But usually, being the practical man that he was, he would find something to fix in the basement, while the girls would watch, with delight, all the singing and dancing of these amazing movies. Back then, movies had a message, sappy as some of them might have been. Just thinking of the songs..."Climb every mountain, ford every stream, follow every rainbow, 'till you find your dream". Talk about motivation! Even in the weird and wacky world of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, I learned something as a kid that stuck with me; be true, be honest, and everything will turn out for the best in the end. Or in Annie, watching her hold on to the truth that "The sun will come out tomorrow" even if today's forecast is mostly cloudy with a 90% chance of thunderstorms. Movies have been a bit of a hindrance for me, as well. When I was very small, I used to dream about Potsie singing a song to me at Arnold's, and as I got older, I used to actually hold out for my "Prince Charming"...reality check...he didn't have to work...and was handed everything on a silver platter, being the Prince and all...so, of course they lived happily ever after...that is until fair Cindy was moody, the kids came along, and he had to find a real job to pay for soccer cleats, baseball uniforms, and playstations...notice how THAT sequel hasn't hit the box office yet! Also, I have learned that two hours isn't usually enough time to fix the majority of trails and tribulations that come our way in this life...even IF Charles Ingalls could redeem The Prairie in an hour flat! These Happy Days weren't really yours or mine, but we made believe like they were, and enjoyed them nonetheless. All in all, I contribute a lot of who I am to the movies and TV programs of the past (for better or for worse). I also have to say, that there are not too many movies out now that I would go to see, even if they were free, or you were paying me to go. The television leaves a lot to be desired, as well, and currently the only "working" channel in our house is PBS, which can be borderline, at times. A lot has changed since the 70s and 80s. It is really hard to find the same wholesome, positive, uplifting entertainment that I knew as a child. So now that I am a Mom, in our family, we watch many reruns, borrow Aunt Marybeth's vast collection of Little House on the Prairie DVDs, and search high and low for anything that resembles an era, that seems, has been lost forever.

End of the snake saga

On Saturday, we all went over to David's to tidy up the place. Luis was cutting the grass, and the kids and I were tending the animals. I opened the shed door, and found my "friend" again. This time, I was so glad that Luis was there, and I am happy to report that the snake is no more! It took some fancy foot work, and the help of Luis's pole saw, but he was able to cut the monster right in half. (Sorry to all you PETA people, but we had to do what we had to do!) After dividing the snake, Luis brought it out where the boys could take a look at it. Turned out to be one fat rat snake about 5 feet long and about 3 inches in diameter. We were amazed to watch the thing continue to twist and turn (without its head) for about 20 minutes! Jonathan did NOT like the snake, to say the least, and Josh was fascinated, but leery as well (even with no head!) I am just glad it's finally gone...but as long as there are chickens around, I am sure there are more snakes lurking in the shadows. The good news is, David, and Grandma Carmen are coming back next week, so my tour of duty is almost done!!

Shed Update

Just to set the record straight, Luis did earn the title, "Brave and Fearless Leader", as he went over to the shed tonight (armed with our weed eater!). After a long, drawn-out search, the snake was nowhere to be found which leads me to one of two conclusions; Either the snake is deep in the shed, waiting to jump out at me in the the morning, OR she had her fill of eggs and is off to another location for now. Either way, I am steering clear, unless Luis is with me, complete with all necessary lawn equipment!

Ahhhhhhh!!!

Whenever my brother-in-law is out of town, we take care of the "farm" at his house that is just across the dirt road from us. Basically, it involves feeding Blackie, the black lab, and her 5 week old puppies (Shadow and Oreo, recently named by the boys), as well as the number of hens, roosters and ducks that live there also. When David is gone for a long time, we water his fruit trees, plants and rose bushes. With the recent death of my father-in-law, he has been out of the country for about 3 weeks now, and we have been dedicated to keeping everything in order at his house. This morning, after feeding the animals, Jonathan and I headed over to the pump house shed where the hose is connected. I opened the door and banged on the wall just to make some noise in case of an intruder. I made a quick scan, and took a step into the little dark shed. I stopped quickly...I saw movement about a foot away from me. Visible, but hiding under a shovel was the thickest snake I have ever seen up close and personal! I believe the snake was about 2-3 inches thick, and it was growing by the second! My first instinct was to run like the scared chicken that I am. I saw that the snake wasn't leaving, so I called Josh over to see it before we evacuated the premises. We watched as it slithered out of sight, deeper into the shed. I called Luis from my brother-in-law's yard, and informed him of what I saw. I explained to him that I would be relieving myself of my gardening duties as of that moment. Luis, our brave and fearless leader, told me that his brother would have to check it out when he came back from Mexico, and for me to not go in to the shed again. Then, when I told him what color the snake was, he said it was probably a water snake or maybe a cotton mouth. Great. Needless to say, nothing was watered today. Tomorrow's not looking good, either. I guess I better start praying for more rain!

Rain, rain, everywhere...

I am still trying to get used to the weather around here...Living in Arizona for six years, I really grew accustomed to blue skies, blue skies, and more blue skies! I think it rained once a year there, if we were lucky. When we first moved to AZ, Luis, being fond of gardening and such, prayed for rain...only to discover that the local farmers had the growing season down to a science, (using the Colorado River to irrigate), and the least bit of rain would ruin everything! When my Dad came to visit in 2002, he would open the curtain every morning and say, "Wow, another blue sky!" Coming from "gray" Syracuse, it was so odd for him to see sunny days for 3 weeks straight! Consequently, I am trying to get used to the almost daily thunder storms this time of the year. And I have to admit, I don't really like the loud booms like I used to. Josh has become my personal weather man lately. He loves to watch the clouds roll in, and tell me in which direction they are moving. He closely watches the sky as it changes, and swears that it looks green, signalling a tornado, every time it so much as sprinkles! He has checked out several books on weather and storms from the local library, and is mystified by clouds, rain, wind, etc. It's funny how much more attention you pay to something, when you have lived for many years without it.

The party's over...

Well, the big day came and went...Jonathan is now 3!! I think the highlight of the night was seeing him gasp (literally) with joy at every (and I mean EVERY) present and card that he opened. Someday, when I figure out how to upload my videos, I'll post that piece of the birthday video...it was a hoot! The Parra/Poston clan always have a good time, and tonight was no exception! Next...MB and the big 4-0!! hahaha...love you sissy!
Three today! Cariboo~Great game!

Nascar Fever

Being a northern girl, I had a lot to learn about life in South Carolina. Down here, the tea is SWEET, the terrain is flat, and phrases like "y'all", "might could", and "I reckon", are the norm. Fast-food is anything but fast. Hurricane evacuations consist horrid gas station lines, and bare grocery store shelves. They have humidity that could take your breath away, and gnats that could almost carry you away! The South, however has its share of well known icons…miles of beautiful shoreline, Southern hospitality, and yes, Nascar.

Recently, my boys have developed the “fever”. There is no cure that I have found as of yet. The symptoms are unmistakable. Anything that can be raced in our house will do…laundry baskets, toilet paper rolls, and marbles…even blueberries! (however I don’t recommend this, especially on carpet). The boys have their favorite “number shirts”…Josh-Blue 88, and Jonathan red-48. If the number shirts happen to be in the dirty clothes pile, they will write numbers on paper and beg me to duct tape them to whatever shirt they are wearing. "Because", as they explain, "you have to have a number to race!" In our house, we have a hallway that is the ideal racetrack, so they say. The only problem is, they can’t fit side by side in the hall with their make shift, laundry basket racers. But, as we all know, Nascar, without the crashes, isn’t Nascar! One of our frequent stops when we are out and about in our town is the dollar store that is close to our house. They have the greatest selection of matchbox cars, and the price is right. The boys beam when I let them get a box of “number cars”. The other day, we were looking through the DVDs in the store, and we came across a whole stack of, yes, you guessed it…Nascar DVDs. Well, you would have thought I had told my kids we were off to Disney world. It was the best $1.50 I have spent in a long time! Last night, after prayers, stories, and being tucked in, the boys asked if they could watch their sacred DVD, to which I gave in. They were sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes glued to the screen. Jonathan was explaining to Josh that Jimmy Johnson drove the #48 Lowe's car, not Jeff Gordon. Finally, the two drifted off to sleep…with visions spin outs, pit crews and checkered flags no doubt!

Yesterday, in church, the message was about persevering…and at one point, the gentleman speaking actually worked “Boogedy, boogedy, boogedy!” into his sermon. Yes, I think my boys will fit in just fine down here in the South.

Egg fettish

We are an "egg" family! We love to eat scrambled eggs in the morning. Usually Luis buys the 5 dozen box when he goes to the store, and it lasts us roughly two weeks. That's ALOT of eggs!! Well, my neighbor, across the dirt road, just happens to be my husband's brother. He has, among other animals, a bunch of chickens. So, you'd think, the "egg" family would be in heaven, right?? Wrong. For some reason, I can't eat those eggs. I don't know if it's because I actually see how nasty chicken really are...scratching in the dirt, eating ANYTHING (even cooked chicken-now that's just not right!!)...but for some reason, I have this mental thing going on, that won't allow me to eat the eggs. I have gone so far as to even crack and whip the eggs...but end up throwing them away before they hit the skillet! Luis keeps telling me that he wants to build a chicken coop and have chickens of our own. The children squeal with excitement at the thought of having their very own chickens, just like Uncle David...Three against one...but I am holding my ground. I know that if I give in, I will have to smuggle in eggs from the outside world, if I ever want "normal" eggs again. And I have this sneaky suspicion that the chicken breasts and thighs that I buy would soon become a thing of the past...and the chicken axe and plucking feathers are not something I even want to begin to think about!!!

Two Trees

My husband and I were out in the yard last evening, picking blueberries from our amazingly productive blueberry bush. I was carrying the bucket inside, when I walked past our pretty fig tree...that gives us no fruit. I said to Luis, "This tree is so beautiful, the leaves are so healthy looking and green...but I feel like when Jesus walked past the fig tree with no fruit and cursed it, because it gives us nothing." That was all that was said...but I kept thinking about that tree...I realized it's like many of us. We can look beautiful and perfect on the outside. Only the tiniest of blemishes, which are easily overlooked. Growing by leaps and bounds, but not doing what we were created to do. No fruit. Nothing of lasting value. Nothing of nourishment for anyone else. Nothing.

We have another tree in a different part of our yard. It's a sad little peach tree. I thought the tree was completely dead this past winter, as I broke a branch only to see how very brittle the dead wood really was. Well, I ended up breaking off almost half of the little tree that day...all dead wood. But to my amazement, this past spring, there were flowers on that lop-sided "dead" tree. Then, this summer, we actually picked fruit...not huge peaches, but sweet, juicy delicious little ones. I remember thinking back to how I was ready to have my husband chop that little tree down, to plant something more pleasing to the eye...like the fig tree...but I began to see what a mistake that would have been...I began to see its real value.

I made a decision right then and there. I want to be that peach tree. No, it's not perfect looking, it doesn't stand out as the best of those around it...and it surely would not win any horticultural awards...in fact, most people would probably walk right past it without giving it a second thought. But the fruit is priceless. With a little pruning and breaking away, it produced more than anyone thought imaginable. Fulfilling the appetite of those around it. Doing exactly what it was created to do...bear good fruit.

The fig tree will also remain. Not because it is really anything of worth...other than a constant reminder of "having the appearance of Godliness, but lacking it's power." (2 Timothy 3:5)...something of which, I pray, I am never accused.