Yes, I have finally been awarded Sainthood.  My friend and blogger extraordiare JD has named me Saint Kath, Patron Saint of Shut The F**k Up!  I saved my fat neighbor lady's ass one day by telling her just this, and so I've been ushered into Sainthood.
I now will be available to any and all who pray to me, "Would SOMEbody make this person STFU??? Please???"
I have been issued an earthly team of big, baldheaded men who wear wraparound sunglasses and roam the earth in black helicopters.  They are all named "Quentin" and they show no mercy when summoned.  THEY will make people STFU on my command.
It works like this:
You're standing in a long line at the checkout counter of the supermarket on your way home, dinner in hand.  You're tired, you're cranky, and you're hungry.  There are only, of course, 2 lines open.  Finally there is only one person ahead of you. Oh, no.  It turns out that they're old friends from high school with the checkout person.  You close your eyes and silently say, "Please, Saint Kath, make this person STFU!!!!"
Instantly, Quentin One appears, glares at the customer in front of you.  He whispers that if this person does not close their mouth instantly, they, their family, and their entire HOMETOWN will be removed from the face of the earth.  You check out, head home and chow down.
Or...you're teaching a class, or giving instructions at work.  There's that ONE person (there always is) who starts asking, "Is this necessary?" "Why do I have to do this?" "Do we need to know this?" You pray the same prayer.  Quentin Two arrives, and tells the person that if they need an opinion, he'll give it to them.
A Ron Paul supporter  buttonholes you on Public Transit.  You think there's no escape, as they talk on and on about "joining the Revolution!"  You think, "Saint Kath, please...." Quentin Three appears, letting said person know that you didn't ask for their help in voting, and to promptly STFU or they'll be picking up hanging chads with their buttcheeks after this election.  Mission: accomplished.
So, tell me...where do I need to send Quentin in YOUR life?  I await, ready to respond to all in need.

This is the 18th installment of my friend ~Alicia's Group Blogging Experience.  The assignment for this week is "Resolutions." 
Before I start, I want to thank Alicia for the marvelous thing she's started.  I am amazed at how it's grown!  We have a broad topic each week, and I have learned so much about myself and others through this blog.  One week, her topic gave me the courage to say something that had long been on my heart, and it brought about a wonderful change in my life.  So, thank you, Alicia darling!  And, if you read this, take a look at her link above, and read some of the other bloggers who participate, maybe even participate yourself.  I know that I owe her a tremendous debt.
Ok. Resolutions.  Here are my top ten (John, I know I posted this as a comment on your blog, and I hope you don't mind.)
1. I will stop worrying about my kids. The paths they have chosen are theirs, not mine. I'll keep the door open for them to renew a relationship with me, but I will not chase them. It will happen as it's meant to.
2. There are many things I cannot control, and those are things I will no longer worry about. What I can control is my response. Nobody can "make" me happy, or unhappy, but me.
3. I will speak to my internal medicine doctor about his staff. While I'm grateful for his aggressive treatment that has granted me remission, his staff is unresponsive and frequently, important messages do not reach him. He needs to know this, and change it, or I'll find another doctor.
4. I refuse to buy into the other teachers' negativity about the students I teach. The teacher's lounge is the absolute worst place to be. I'd rather read a book, eating an orange in my room, than listen to them rant and rave.
5. I will appreciate my husband more. I am not altogether easy to live with at times, and he has been so understanding. It's past time I paid it back.
6. I will not get all worked up about politics. We will volunteer as we have in the past, but it's silly to think that getting upset will change the outcome of the upcoming election.
7. I will stop berating myself when I am too busy to work on my book. Yes, I'm a writer, but I'm also a wife, teacher, friend. The writing will flow when it needs to. It cannot be forced.
8. I will complain less and appreciate more. There are plenty of people who have much less than I do, and I have much to be happy about.
9. I will stop worrying about the outcome of the lawsuit. Yes, I'll stay on top of my attorney, but he wants to win, too. This is what he has spent years doing. I will visualize the outcome that I want, and I will not waver.
10. Every day, I will do something, however small, to make life better for someone I care about, whether it is actual deed or just listening.
So there they are, all bold and sassy.  I've printed them out and they are posted on the mirror in my bathroom.  I go over them while I brush my teeth every morning. 
Now I'm looking forward to reading YOUR resolutions.  And by the way, thank you, John, for blogging something that really made me stop and think about my "top ten" this year in your usual, thought-provoking way. 
Happy New Year, Everyone! love, Kath

This is part of my dear friend ~Alicia 's Group Blogging Experience.  This week's assignment is "Traditions."
You know, when I was growing up, Christmases were special but never "magical."  My parents were strict Baptists (the Independent kind).  No, we never handled snakes or spoke in tounges but it was all a pretty stern business, this being "Christians."  I always felt like the world was having a great big party and I wasn't invited, because their view of Christianity meant that we could never be part of the "World" and its "Worldliness."
So Santa Claus never made an appearance at my house.  The presents were always wrapped under the tree long before Christmas.  There were 7 of us children, and we were all "given" $20.00 to pick out what we wanted from the Sears "Wishbook."  If we were too little for that (I think it was before 3rd grade) then Mom picked out our gifts.  We always opened our presents on Christmas Eve.  No letters to Santa, no fervent wishes of what we'd get for Christmas...we already knew. It wasn't as much as other children received, but we knew that Daddy worked hard and that money would only go so far.
I can remember wishing for a few years that something special really WOULD happen, but it never did.  We were thankful for our gifts, but there was no room for "magical" in my Childhood Christmases. 
When I grew up I always felt a little sad around Christmastime, and didn't quite know why.  When I  had my own children, I decided that I would just have to make my OWN Magic happen at Christmastime.  And so, while my children were taught all about Jesus's birth, I also encouraged them to keep believing in Santa Claus, and I was a little sad when they got too old and figured it all out.   I helped them write out letters to Santa, went out and bought whatever I could afford, and they *always* woke up to what Santa had brought.  No, I couldn't always afford a tree (nor the ornaments) but after awhile, I bought a HUGE artificial tree, and through the years I have accumulated wonderful white angels playing golden instruments, doves, "pearl" ropes, white twinkly lights and red and gold ribbons.  It's how I decorate my tree every year, and every year I can look at it for hours. (This year, however, was quite the challenge, as G decided to "surprise" me by putting up the tree while I was napping.  He got into the eggnog and woke me up, asking, "Honey, does M go before or after P?"  I made him stop.  The damned thing looked like sculpture made by Edward Scissorhands!)
As time went on, I made up my own traditions.  One of my very favorite things is that I design and make beautiful wreaths every year.  When Christmas is over, I give that year's wreath to someone I love, so that they will have it for next year.  It makes me smile to think of, or see, my own wreaths on their doors.
I must say here (no brag, just a FACT) that I make the very best eggnog in the world.  It's full of heavy cream and real vanilla, with a dizzying amount of rum, brandy and bourbon.   And  you can all have your pumpkin pie.  MY pie must be, always and forever, pecan.  I *am* from Texas, you know.  That is one tradition I've kept from childhood.
My table, too, has traditions from my past.  Here is how it's decorated every year:

That crocheted tablerunner was made by my Grandmother.  I look at all the fine stitches and wonder how long it took her to make, and I hope she's pleased that I use it every year at Christmas.  Mom told me she could never follow a pattern, but she made up her own. (Maybe I take after her?)  Those Franciscan Apple dinnerware were the plates my mother had while we were growing up.  Look at Santa!  Isn't he just grand?  My husband and I found him our first Christmas together and he's graced our table ever since.  We always want to get him a Mrs. Claus, but we can never find one that matches his old-school fineness.  His features are old-world china, with crinckled-up blue eyes and his beard is Norwiegan blonde.  He carries not only his golden staff, but scrolls of music in his other arm.  We just love him.
If you don't have good traditions, make your OWN.  I did.