Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Buckshot - A Dog's Tale

One year ago today, I stopped by the Humane Society to have a look at the dogs.  I was toying with the idea of getting one for my husband for Christmas.

There, I met "Buckshot" for the first time.  What a handsome fella he was! 

He was friendly too, and seemed well mannered (for a rescue dog)

My son and I played with the dog for a few minutes, then I asked the volunteer some questions and he went to retrieve Buck's file.   The volunteer came back with "good news/bad news" Buck was technically still available, but there were already two applications in for him.  Both applications were in the process of being approved (or denied) I was invited to fill one out and add it to the list "just in case"  Then, even though the chances of being allowed to adopt Buck were slim, the application would remain on file and we wouldn't have to go through the approval process when another dog we liked became available. 

I filled one out, but because of Buck's obvious popularity, I didn't think for a minute he would ever be our dog.  

The volunteer took Buck back to his kennel while I filled out paperwork that seemed more like I was trying to adopt a child than rescue a canine!

The lady behind the desk smiled and took the clipboard from me.  Then, I overheard her making a phone call to the vet who'd cared for our last dog, who'd passed at the age of 13 a year and a half before. She was checking our references already!  I didn't know whether to be excited, or scared!

She hung up the phone, then told me I could send my son back to get the dog while I paid his adoption fees.

That's when Buck officially became "ours" 

Back at the house, he sought out our bed and bid us good-night promptly at 8:30!  

He knew he was "home!"

It's been quite a year since Buck joined the family!  He's been a very busy boy!

 Walt wasn't fully convinced at first, but eventually, he was smitten.

Buck went to visit Grand-mom in south Georgia the weekend after he joined our family. 
(He only threw up twice!)
Then, he traveled all the way to Ohio and met his cousin, Heidi. 

Buck loves all God's creatures!

Especially "his" cat, Elly-Mae (also a rescue)

And everyone loves Buck! We're so glad he chose US!

"Buckshot (Buck) Taylor"
Joined the family 12/5/2011

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Ich lerne Deutsch zu sprechen

Ich lerne Deutsch zu sprechen
(I am learning to speak German!)

OK, I'll admit I had to do a Google translation just to be sure I got the title to this blog post right. My lessons in Deutsch haven't gotten me to the point of being able to have a real conversation using the German language yet, but someday I fully intend to be able to do just that.

You know, just in case I run into a real German some where ... like in Germany, for example!

I've always been intrigued by the German language, probably because a large part of my heritage is German.  I'm also part American Indian (Cherokee) English, and a pint or two of Irish (or is it Scottish?) mixed in.

Oh, fine .. born and raised in southern Ohio, I am more plain old "Appalachian" than anything. Not that the Appalachian people are truly plain.  To the contrary, they are fascinating. I've studied that culture a good bit, but I already speak "Appalachian" so, no need to order lessons from "Rosetta Stone"  (No, I don't really believe there is such a course available)

I studied German in high school and am surprised at how much of it is coming back to me in these early lessons.  I also remember enough about it, to not be surprised that the "genders" of nouns still drive me crazy. That part of each lesson is proving to be every bit as difficult for me as it was those many years ago.

Overall, I find this to be encouraging, as I am convinced that all that information is still floating around in my cranium somewhere and will make it easier for me to learn the language beyond reading signs and locating restrooms when the need presents itself.

So, there you have it!

"Ich lerne Deutsch zu sprechen" and I'm having a blast just thinking of how it's going to pay off in the future!

Auf Wiedersehen!
(I didn't even have to Google that one!)

Becky J. Taylor
Bold New Day! LLC
Reinvention Coaching for Women 

Follow Your Passion! Pursue Your Purpose!
Become the Person You Know You Were Born to Be!

(in this case, even if it's an old German woman! lol)

Monday, November 19, 2012

Off Ramps

I left rehearsal around 1:15 a.m. Saturday morning and went to the hotel for what promised to be a very short night. An early call-time ahead, combined with my aching back would surely mean any amount of sleep at all would be a challenge. 

It was even more so than I imagined. 

Every time I started to drift off, I saw a very clear picture of an "off-ramp" in my head.  This happened at least a dozen times. It was never the same off-ramp, but rather different ramps parting from different roads. There were interstate highways, two lane highways, and country roads, but all with one thing in common. Every one had an off-ramp and I knew I was about to take it.   

And each time one appeared, I was startled awake. 

By the time I'd seen eight or so, I had to chuckle and tell God, "OK! I'm listening, but please explain so I can get some sleep!"   Eventually, I was able to doze off for a couple hours before the alarm sounded.

During breakfast that morning, I was talking to a cast-mate about the dreams/visions.  I feel they indicate that my life is about to take another course.  She agreed with me on that much of the interpretation, but had nothing further to offer on the matter. 

I've been milling it over, and two days later,  I still don't have a clue.  

Why the different roads?  

Why another off-ramp at this point in my life?  

Where do all these off ramps lead to?  

I know God doesn't give His children such visions without a reason for doing so.  I know the answer will come in His perfect timing.  

OK, God!  I am listening, and I'm ready for You to explain the mystery of the off ramp! 

Becky J. Taylor
Bold New Day! LLC


Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Moments of Expectation and God-Incidence (and a Little Fun!)

"One moment of expectation in the presence of God can change your life." 
(Bishop John Wesley Pace, II)

I was sitting at dinner the other night listening to Walt and Pastor Odai talk about Pastor's schedule while he's in the states.  Without even thinking, really, I interjected "I wonder if John Pace (my friend and former "stage husband") would be able to get an interview on Atlanta Live for Pastor Odai while he's here?"

A few text messages and 24 hours later, he was scheduled to appear on the show. We randomly chose Tuesday night from the list of dates we were given.

I drove Pastor Odai to the studio last night to be interviewed and introduced him to John, who was hosting the show. As it turns out, John is going to be in Ghana next May. Pastor Odai offered his guest house to him while he's there.

Speaking of "small worlds", While at the studio, I ran into Jason Bare, extraordinary singer/songwriter, and good friend of my niece  Felicia Barton.  Jason lives in Virginia Beach and Felicia lives in Nashville.  I've never met Jason but recognized him from hearing Felicia talk about him.  Who would've thought I'd run into him in Atlanta?  What a fun moment that was!

Although I've heard Pastor Odai speak many times, his message during this interview was particularly electrifying.  There was a tangible anointing in the waiting room where I sat, watching the show.  I sure didn't expect that!

As I finished watching the second half of the show at home (thanks to Mr. Taylor who recorded it for me) it was as if Bishop Pace were talking directly to me.  He spoke about expectations (or lack thereof)  Little did he know that I'd all but given up on "expecting" anything.  My faith has been at an all time low over the last couple years. I've been asking God to increase my faith and help my unbelief.  Bishop Pace's message spoke directly to the emotional/spiritual conflicts I've been dealing with lately.  

Excerpt:   "You've buried some things that you had expectation for.  That dream, that goal, that vision you thought was dead has just been in a comatose state.  It has just been asleep.  God is about to speak a Word into that dead thing in your life.  He is going to cause it to rise.  There is a resurrection that's about to happen to the deadest goal, the deadest dream, the deadest aspiration you have ever buried in your life. Get your shovel and start digging up every dream you've ever buried. If you sow your seed of expectation in the presence of Jesus, you will receive your harvest by touching the hem of his garment. I am here to prophesy to you that your dead thing is in a season that it's about to breath life. God will come to you and say "Fear not, because you're about to LIVE.  I'm about to breathe life into your situation."  Your seed of expectation will  change the moment that you are standing in.  Expect God to do for you what you have never expected Him to do in your life!"  

Alright, so I know the message was not for me alone.  I'm sure there are others it was targeted to as well. That's why I am sharing it today.

God never ceases to amaze me.  I went to the studio last night with no expectations to speak of.  I ended up seeing my friend/former cast mate, John.   I also got to meet Jason Bare and we had a great time laughing about the "irony" of it all.   I called Walt on the way home and asked him to be sure and keep recording the rest of the show, because I wanted to hear Jason's songs and interview.  I certainly didn't expect to receive the anointed Word I was given by, of all people, my friend John.

It was a good day. I've been needing one of those.  I went to bed feeling more encouraged than I've felt in ages.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find my shovel.  According to God (via Bishop John Wesley Pace II) I've got some digging to do!

Becky Taylor

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

So Long Superman!

A while back, I wrote in my blog about the many times my 93 year old Father has cheated death over the years. In my post, I referred to him as "Superman" At times, it seemed that he might actually live forever.

I am sad to report that "Superman" finally met his Kryptonite and passed away on Sept. 15th, 2012.

It seems silly to say his death was unexpected.  He was 93 years old after all, but he'd survived yet another life threatening incident in mid-August when the car he was riding in went out of control and landed on it's top in a field.  My daughter, who was driving at the time, and my two year old grandson escaped unharmed.

So did my Father, it seemed.  As a precaution, he was transferred to Ohio State University Hospital via LifeFlight.  He had cuts and scrapes, bumps and bruises, but was expected to go home the following day.  Whew! What a close call!  We were so thankful that he was relatively unharmed.

The night before he was to be released, he ate his dinner at the hospital, in good spirits. I talked to my sister around 8:00 p.m. and she gave me the details of his injuries (or lack thereof) We laughed at the notion that Dad was pretty darn near indestructible!

I was just beginning to doze off that same night when the phone rang around midnight.  It was my niece.  She said the hospital had called and wanted to know "to what extent we wanted to go" in order to save my father's life.


Apparently Dad had inhaled a bite of his dinner and aspirate pneumonia had set in. They were able to go in and get the food particle out, but the effects had caused them to have to move him from the regular unit to Intensive Care, where he was now fighting for his life.  I was stunned, and needless to say unable to sleep at all that night.

And so the roller coaster ride began.  What followed would be two weeks of ups and downs, having our hopes soar one day, only to be crushed the next.  He was one tough old bird and fought as hard as he could right up to the end.

We drove to Ohio Labor Day weekend to visit Dad in ICU.  It was heartbreaking to see him struggling the way he was. His breathing was terribly labored, and he didn't understand why he had to be tied to the bed. Yet, he continued to entertain us all with his jokes and silly comments.  I felt with all my heart, that he was going to come out of that hospital with yet another story of survival to tell.

A week later, Dad was well enough to be scheduled for release to another facility where he would continue his recovery.

We breathed a sigh of relief once again.

But it was not to be just yet.  Two days before his planned transfer, the doctor diagnosed him with an obstructed bowel.  Normally, an obstructed bowel can be surgically treated, but since Dad was already in such a fragile condition, the doctor gave us no hope that he would survive such a complicated, lengthy procedure.  We were given the option of allowing them to do a colonoscopy, which may or may not straighten the bowel out- or do nothing but make Dad comfortable and let him slip away.

Had my Father not shown such a strong will to survive, I might have agreed to the latter choice, but less than 24 hours earlier, he had asked my daughter to pray for him to recover.  He said, "Where two or more agree on anything in His name, it shall be done!"  Dad had always been a man of great faith, and this situation was no exception.

It was after 2:00 in the morning when the doctor explained the depressing odds to me from my Dad's bedside.  Dire as it seemed, I didn't see where we had any choice but to give him every possible chance to recover.  If the colonoscopy didn't work, then I would've felt we'd done all we could for him. If we didn't allow the colonscopy and he died, I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself.

Later, that same afternoon, my daughter sent a picture she'd taken of Dad to me.  He was making a "silly face" for the camera.

I laughed and cried at the same time when I saw it.  How could a man in such great spirits be at death's door?  He wanted so badly to live.  He wanted so much to keep being "Dad"  I begged God to give us a miracle for him and asked everyone I knew to agree with me in that prayer.

"Wherever two or more agree ..."

By evening, we got that miracle when we received word that Dad's bowel was not obstructed after all!  I cried happy tears when I heard the news!  I told everyone about God's answer to our prayers.  It was really two miracles in one, because I'd also been asking God to help me believe like I'd once believed.  I rejoiced on both counts!

Less than a week later, Dad was tranferred from the hospital to my sister's house.  We all knew he still had a long road ahead of him but were optimistic.  With all that had happened, it didn't seem like Dad's work on this earth was finished just yet.

Unfortunately, and without any real warning, he passed away only two days after leaving the hospital.

My Father was well loved. People were lined up all the way out the door for four solid hours the night of his visitation. We had a beautiful home-going service for him on Sept. 20th in the church he helped to build over 30 years ago. He was laid to rest beside my mother in Little Mound Cemetery, just down the road from the house he and my mother shared their entire marriage.

I am still struggling to understand all the "whys" of the situation.  I also know that is a question I won't get the answer to on this side of Heaven. As I said, it may seem silly given the fact he lived 93 long, happy, prosperous years.

But to me, he has always been "Superman" and everyone knows that "Superman" is never suppose to die!

One month to the day after his death, I dreamed about him.  He was sitting on a bench with one of my uncles who is also deceased. Dad appeared to be young and healthy again.  He smiled and spoke to me.  I told him I missed him and loved him, and he said he missed and loved me too. Then he said, "But I'm alright now, Beck."  And he smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief and delight.

I turned to call for my sister to come see him, but when I turned back around, he was gone again.

Dad never was one to sit still for long.

The dream was a gift from God. I believe that and I am thankful for it.  I know my "Superman" is now truly immortal.  Despite my unanswered questions and anxiety surrounding the circumstances of his death, I find peace in that knowledge.

So long for now, Superman!  I know I'll see you again someday. Until then you will live on in my dreams.


Friday, October 28, 2011

Ghost Story ...

When I was a little girl I use to listen to my father and his sisters as they'd sit around the kitchen table and tell "ghost" stories. While it frightened me out of my wits to eavesdrop on their conversations, I also found the subject very intriguing and couldn't pull myself away.

As an adult, I wasn't always quite sure what to make of such stories. I've always believed in the supernatural, that's for sure, but am to this day, unclear on exactly what the entities we refer to as "ghosts" really are.

Sometimes angels, perhaps? Sometimes demons? Sometimes a bit of both?

Any doubt I had that such things actually existed was totally erased about 20 years ago, soon after we moved into our first Victorian home. It was a beautiful, quaint old Queen Anne style house, built just before the 1900's. I fell in love with the old place and immediately began my quest to restore her to her original splendor. The more I worked on the house, the more delighted I was at all the little surprises I'd find hidden behind walls and under stairwells. To this day, I remember the smell of the old wood wafting up as I scraped away a hundred years worth of layers of paints.

Within a few days of moving into the place, I had a very lucid dream in which I got out of bed and walked into the dining room. There I saw a little blond haired girl in a white nightgown standing just inside the doorway. I asked her what she was doing there, but she didn't answer. I turned away from her and started toward the front door, perhaps to show her the way out.

She followed me.

As I began to pass the big double doors that led into the parlor, she began to plead, "Don't go in there! Don't go in the parlor! It's bad .... very bad!"she kept franticly repeating the phrase.

At that point, I was startled awake. I was relieved to find myself back in my bed. It took me a while to sort through the confusion, however, as I wasn't sure whether the experience had been a nightmare, or had really happened.

I didn't say anything about the dream to the rest of the family. We had three daughters living in the house at the time and I didn't want to frighten them. Needless to say, I didn't spend much time in the parlor though. The little girl's warning was never far from my mind.

In the years that followed, there was always something unusual going on in our house. I learned later that I wasn't the only one having strange dreams and sensing unseen company at times. I became accustomed to hearing footsteps upstairs, when I knew that no one in our family was up there. Once, I went to investigate the source of the noise and was clearly "passed" by someone, or something, at about the middle of the stairwell. A chill went right to my bones, literally leaving me breathless.

Probably worst of all, I would often have nightmares about chasing an evil presence through the house, commanding it to leave but it wouldn't go.

It's funny though, how a person can explain things away in order to make themselves feel more at ease. We went on living in, and loving the house.

One evening, I was home alone and was busy working in the kitchen. I was standing at the stove with my back to the utility room area ... a room that had been built where the old back porch use to be. The back entrance to the house was through the utility room. From the corner of my eye, I saw someone walk through the room. Thinking one of the girls had come home, I went to check on them.

No one was in the room, and the door to the back yard was securely locked.

Again, a bone-chilling coldness began to overtake me. I moved quickly out of the utility room and back to my spot at the stove.

As I stood there trying to shake the fear, I sensed the presence of what I could only describe as a "tall man" enter the room. I felt him walk right up behind me, and I braced myself for what might happen next.

I can't explain it ... I couldn't actually see him, but he was as real as any human being I've never met. I expected the cold again, but as he moved closer I felt a wonderful, warm, comforting embrace. A sense of peace flooded over me and I suddenly felt more safe than I'd ever felt in my life.

Never again was I fearful in the old house. To this day, I believe the "tall man" was an angel of protection ... and an answer to my prayers.

I told my husband about the tall man, and he shrugged it off, as he did most stories relating to possible supernatural activity.

In 1994, our son, Adam, was born. Because his father worked nights a lot, and we didn't really have a room in the house to use as a nursery, Adam shared my room for the first two years of his life.

Adam was a delightfully imaginative little boy! As soon as he could talk, he created an imaginary friend he referred to as "his boy". As imaginary friends tend to do, "his boy" went everywhere with Adam. We loved hearing Adam tell stories of the escapades he and his boy had together.

Once he outgrew his baby bed, we knew it was time that Adam had a room of his own. The only available space in the house was the old parlor. It was conveniently located one room away from the master bedroom, therefore a more viable option than putting him upstairs or at the other end of the house.

Not long after he began sleeping in his big-boy bed in the parlor, Adam woke me up one night wanting to know if he could sleep with me instead. He was obviously scared, so I helped him climb into our bed and snuggled up close to him.

I asked him if he'd had a bad dream and he said "no" He went on to explain that he'd been in his bed, trying to sleep but his boy ... and a little girl in a white nightgown ... had come into the room and started jumping on his pillow. He told them to stop and they refused. This upset Adam and he started to cry.

Then, he explained, "A big tall man came into the room and told them to leave him alone." They paid attention to the "big tall man" and stopped jumping. By then, Adam was done with it all and decided he'd sleep with me instead.

I shuddered to hear my toddler son describe both the little girl, and the "tall man" I already sensed to be sharing our abode. I'd not mentioned my own encounters with them to anyone else but my husband. Certainly I never would have said anything to my youngest child about such matters.

We stayed in the old house until Adam was five years old, then moved to another beautiful Victorian home in another city. In the meantime, I'd taught Adam that he had authority over any unusual beings he might encounter in our home. I told he that he was an "anointed warrior" and therefore had no need to be afraid. Nothing could touch, or hurt him.

Oddly enough, Adam's "boy" did not move to the next house with us and neither did the little girl in the white gown. I've sensed a protective spirit from time to time since then, but not necessarily one I would describe as the same "tall man" Maybe he stayed behind too, to watch over the residents who moved into the Queen Anne home when we left.

One of these days I intend to stop by there for a visit, just to ask if they've met any members of the trio. I'm just not totally convinced that I really want to know ...

Monday, July 25, 2011

This Changing Life of Mine ...

It's been a while since I blogged. Why I decided to sit down and write this morning is a mystery yet to be solved. I suddenly felt the urge ... so here I am.

When I last wrote, I'd begun my journey into the world of theater and film. That has become my focus of recent months. I'm attending classes every week and combing through audition notices each day in search of opportunities. It's still more of an expensive hobby than a career, but I am having fun. God knows I needed some FUN in my life!

In order to bring in a little money, I managed to land a part time job back in the medical field ... sort of. By "sort of" I mean I'll be running urine drug screens all day, a position that requires my ASCP certification and college degree, one day a week.

From what I can tell, it will be a very mundane job. The room I'll be working in literally looks like it was derived from an old closet and sits way back in the corner of a doctors office. No windows, no radio, nothing on the walls. I'll also be making less per hour than I was making at the lab in Ohio seven years ago, but granted, my duties will not be nearly as complicated (or important.)

Haha! I sound very excited about it, don't I? Well, I am excited about earning a little money to support my new "habit" I am not excited about the job itself, or the one hour drive to and from it.

You win some, you lose some. Oh well!

On to happier things.

I'm currently working on two feature films. One called "The Industry" and another called "When Love Was Simple" The movies, and the characters I play, couldn't be more opposite. I play a nice Christian housewife, perhaps slightly overly indulged mother in one ... and a mean spirited, trash talking, conniving business woman in the other. I am stretching myself artistically and that feels good.

Here are some pics from the set of "The Industry"

Hair ...
"Acting" like I'm eating breakfast. Fried eggs ... and quiche. I'm a natural, huh? lol

"Working" in my robe and pj's ... what's not to love about this "job?"
Just after we wrapped the last scene. I'd just hit my co-star, Ryan Felton, in the face with a pillow. Too bad the camera didn't catch it on impact.

I'd write more, but this post is already getting too long. There'll be more later. I'll try not to wait three months next time.

Until then ...
Becky J. Taylor

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Oh, the RUSH!

Mr. Taylor and "Mrs. Swanson" after the show

I took the stage as "Mrs. Swanson" in TY Martin's "The Color of My Skin" Sunday evening. It was a total blast and I got a lot of great compliments on my work, including some from a lady who does stage productions in South Ga. who sat next to my daughter in the audience. She couldn't believe it was my first time on a "big" stage. She told me afterwards that I was a natural and my timing was perfect (among other things but I'll stop here just so my head doesn't swell any further.)

What a rush!

I really needed it to go well. I've been way overdue for some FUN, and that was about as much fun as anyone could ask for.

Of course, it wasn't exactly perfect. One of my favorite scenes, and a lot of my lines from yet another, got cut because the show was running too long. Foregoing any measure of self-respect, I shamelessly begged and pouted to the director to not cut my part, but it was to no avail. I suppose that's how it goes with live productions.

I am definitely going to keep doing this! I've already accepted a role in a trade-show commercial and will be taping that next week. I'm also looking forward to working in the next TY Martin production, "Diva-rella" After that, who knows what might happen!

Here are some pictures to illustrate the experience from the audition to the "wrap"

Cast Photo Shoot

Networking Event

(by Deborah Johnson Damron-Crossfire Photography)

Networking at Cafe 290

Stylist Sandy Hudson transforming me into Mrs. Swanson

Here come the fans!

My kids sent this picture to me to ease my nerves before the show.
It worked!

My family came in from TN, OH, and North GA just to support me. I love them!

Special thanks to TY Martin and the cast of "The Color of My Skin" for making this an unforgettable experience ... and to my family and friends for being there for me when I needed them most!

... to be continued (because I'm having way to much fun to stop now!)

God bless!
Becky Taylor

Bold New Day! Personal Development Coaching for Women

Follow Your Passion! Pursue Your Purpose!
Become the Person You Know You Were Born to Be!

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Irons in the Fire

2010 is almost over (insert happy dance)

Yes, it's awful that I've felt this way about the last two years, but 2009 and 2010 proved themselves to be overall disappointments.

I'm putting my foot down! This trend must change in 2011. To ensure the upward shift, I've already begun laying the foundation.

So far,so good! 2011 is shaping up to be exciting (this time in a good way)

My writing class is going very well! The instructor has given me raving reviews, and requested no edits at all on the assignments I've turned in thus far. I enrolled in the class not only to learn, but to get objective feedback on my work. I hoped it would boost my confidence as I write my book (the one I've not added a word to in months now.) Things are working out nicely. I'm beginning to feel once again that I can do this! I can publish a book that people will want to buy, and gain inspiration from.

Which brings me to the next iron in the fire.

A representative from "Lifetime" television called about a month ago and asked if I was interested in appearing on one of their morning shows. Umm .. YES!

Of course there's a catch. They would prefer I have my book finished and published before we take the process any farther. This is also a good thing. It provides me with yet another much needed "nudge" toward finishing the book ASAP!

The book, in addition to an appearance on "Lifetime" will undoubtedly give my coaching business a major boost, hopefully thrusting it all the way to fame. Then, I'll be able to help more women succeed than I ever imagined before.

Oh, and while flying by the seat of my pants (as I sometimes love to do)I've also managed to land a leading role in the upcoming stage production of TY Martin's "The Color of My Skin" It's a story about racism. My character is a rich racist white woman. My oldest daughter got a kick out of that. She said the role couldn't be farther from the person I really am. Well, that's not completely true. I'm definitely not racist ... but I'm certainly both rich and white (smile) All I have to do to fit my character otherwise is act racist. If I couldn't act, I wouldn't have gotten the part, right?

So, as the lights go down on the year 2010, I see more than a glimmer of hope for the New Year. This new sense of excitement is very much needed and welcomed!

It's a wrap, 2010! In the words of one of my childhood cartoon friends,Sylvester the cat, "Exit, stage left!"

Cue the orchestra! It's almost time for 2011 to appear, and baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet!

Becky J. Taylor
Bold New Day! LLC
Personal Development Coaching for Women

Follow Your Passion! Pursue Your Purpose!
Become the Person You Know You Were Born to Be!

Coach Becky J. Taylor specializes in Personal Development Coaching for Women, based on Christian principles. She is available for personal coaching, group coaching, face to face or phone coaching sessions, speaking engagements, women’s events, and workshops.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Nuttin' For Christmas

In case you were planning to ask me what I want for Christmas, I'll save you the trouble and tell you now.

I don't want anything.

It started with my "non" birthday in August. I decided then to not expect anything from anyone for any special occasion ever again. I figure that way I won't be disappointed. My old heart can't take another let-down it right now.

And no, I'm not secretly hoping people shower will me with gifts anyway. There was a time when I would've liked that idea, but I've grown up a little since then. (About time, since I am fifty years old now!)

I'd much prefer my loved ones take any money they might have spent on me over the holidays and give to some deserving family, or charitable organization instead. Put a gift under the tree for a child in need, or food on the table for a single Mom who can't afford to treat her kids to a good Christmas feast.

Or if you must, give me gift cards ... and give them to me early so I can go out and buy gifts to donate to such causes myself.

Listen! I have a tendency to mean what I say ... and right now I am saying, DO NOT GET ME ANYTHING for Christmas!

Becky Taylor

Monday, November 15, 2010

RIP Sweet Jordan

“Ivanlee Cross the River Jordan” (Jordan)

Sept. 1, 1998 – Nov. 15, 2010

Jordan was born from champion lineage in Portland Oregon on Sept. 1, 1998. He passed away in the early morning hours of Monday, November 15, 2010 in his favorite sleeping spot on the floor of his human’s bedroom in North Georgia. At the time of his death he was being comforted by his special cat-friend, Twinkle and his human mommy, Becky Taylor.

Jordan was a very pretty boy, oh yes he was! His striking good looks and sweet personality made him the center of attention everywhere he went. Although Jordan knew he was handsome, he never let it go to his head. He remained an ever humble companion to his people throughout his years on earth.

Also, a very good boy indeed, Jordan aimed to please (almost all the time.) In the year 2000 he graduated at the top of his obedience training class. The teacher stated that, for his age, he was the most mature dog she’d ever seen.

Jordan’s hobbies included; eating, sleeping, waking his people at 3:00 a.m. simply to go outside and stare at the moon, lying on the front porch watching the snow fall, riding in cars, barking at nothing in particular, and napping in front of the fireplace. (Oh, and did I mention he loved to eat?)

He was an organizer at heart and always made sure the bathroom throw rugs were properly piled in individual heaps before he went to bed. Jordan liked things just “so-so” and took it upon himself to keep them just as he thought they should be.

Jordan had a very soft heart. He rarely ever chased cats, and even then, only chased those he didn’t personally know. He wouldn’t have hurt the proverbial flea.

Only once did he ever chew anything he wasn’t supposed to chew and never ever did he "go potty" inside the house, even up to his last day alive. (Well, maybe only a couple times)

Jordan did everything within his power to make his humans happy and proud.

He absolutely loathed lawn mowers and chased them every chance he was given. He took thunder and lightning as a personal challenge and tried to fend it off by repeatedly jumping at the sky, barking during storms. In true champion form, Jordan always emerged the winner,never giving up until the lawn mowers stopped and the storms moved on.

Jordan is survived by his three cat-siblings, Jasmine, Twinkle, and Skippyjon Jones. Jordan and Twinkle shared a very sweet, special bond.

He also leaves behind his human family, Walter and Becky Taylor, and "the boy" Adam David.

He was predeceased by his step-sister, Yeller Taylor, and dear friend (and partner in crime)Spidey-Marie Whitehead.

Jordan will be sadly missed by his humans but they find great comfort in knowing he is no longer in pain. He is undoubtedly having a wonderful time in doggy heaven, chasing bears and deer with Yeller and over turning trash cans with Spidey-Marie.

The family will have a private ceremony honoring the life of their beloved pet. No calling hours will be observed. Memorial contributions can be made to the "Send Jordan's mommy to a beach in Mexico" fund. :^)

Seriously now ...
Jordan,you quickly made a place for yourself in the heart of this "cat person" That place can never be filled by another. You were very much loved and will never be forgotten! I hope that in the end, you felt that love more than ever before. Sweet dreams pretty boy! May you enjoy eternal peace and happiness.

Becky Taylor
Nov. 15, 2010

Sunday, October 31, 2010

They're Coming to Take Me Away

Here's a Halloween video I made with "One True Media" composed of pictures of my silly family (and a few friends)


Becky Taylor
October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween

As usual, we didn't have very many goblins show up for trick or treat at our house. I suppose it's because our neighborhood is too small, and the houses too spread out compared to some of the others in the area. We only had about twenty kids total in two and a half hours time.

I loved trick or treating as a child. The little town I grew up in was always bustling that night. I remember kicking through the leaves as I made my way through every yard. Back then, people gave out really good stuff like home made popcorn balls, full sized candy bars, and candied apples!

That, along with everything has changed. Things just aren't as much fun as they use to be. But then, maybe that's just me.

Here's a few pictures of my favorite trick-or-treaters.

(Aren't they adorable?)

Esther and Philip

And let's not forget their Mommy

Mamaw's lil Pumpkin, Baby James

Grandson Jayden and Great-Nephew, Britton

Shaina, Kayla, Jayden and James

My nephew Chad and his wife, Carrie (aka Mr. and Mrs. Amos Yoder)

My Sweet little Warrior from Day's Gone By ... Adam (about 2003)

May good memories of Halloween 2010 haunt you for years to come!

Becky Taylor
October 31, 2010

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Tribute to Juanita

My mother passed away six years ago yesterday. Every year I try to do something special to mark the anniversary of her passing. This year I decided to edit the video slideshow we showed during her visitation and at the funeral. Here it is:

Monday, October 25, 2010


My dog, Jordan, is twelve years old and definitely showing the signs of old age. (Aren't we all?) He's seems to be having a little more difficulty than usual these last couple weeks.

It probably has something to do with us having company, the full moon, and the cooler weather.

The poor old guy is deaf and has bad hips. His OCD tendencies are also getting worse with age. He's a sheltie and they're known for liking to have things just "so-so". They don't deal all that well with change.

So, as I was saying ... Jordan woke me up to go outside at 2:30 this morning. At least he's still waking me up to go out, and not doing his business in the house, right?

I let him out the front door, then walked to the kitchen to get him the treat he always expects when he comes back in. It took me about 30 seconds. When I got back to the front door, I couldn't see him in the yard anywhere.

Oh brother!

I walked out onto the sidewalk to see if he'd gone around the corner. He wasn't anywhere in sight.

Then it occurred to me that I was standing out there in my pajamas, alone at 2:30 in the morning under the light of the full moon, and no one in the house knew I was even awake, much less outside.

I suppose I watch too many crime and forensics shows because all sorts of things started running through my mind.

For starters, there are coyotes in the woods surrounding our cul-de-sac. I was concerned that one could grab my poor little dog (or even me) a bit too easily.

I also realized my husband was sound asleep and would not likely hear me scream.

The boy may, or may not hear me should I scream in the midst of a grizzly demise, but chances are he'd roll over and go back to sleep anyway.

So, there I was outside in my pj's looking for my dog (who couldn't hear me calling him) in the middle of the night under a full moon, the week of Halloween no less.

Did I mention I probably watch too many crime shows?

I decided to wake my husband so he could help me look for Jordan. At least then I'd have an eye witness should a coyote (or serial killer) attack. I was on my way back to the house when I spotted Jordan's tracks in the dew on the grass. They seemed to lead to the neighbors yard.

I followed them, and sure enough there came my dog walking up the neighbor's driveway in no particular hurry. My guess is he saw their porch light on (it usually isn't) and got confused about which house he was suppose to return to.

The neighbors live down the hill from us and it's quite a jaunt for an old dog with bad hips, so who knows the real reason he was down there. I'm just glad I found him before either of us were attacked and dismembered.

It was a bit scary but I'll still go in search of my dog in the middle of the night if the need arises. I'm just thinking I'll carry a weapon from now on.

Becky Taylor

Imaginary Jobs - Imaginary Money - Imaginary Right to Child Support

I filed an appeal to the decision the Child Support Enforcement Agency (CSEA) made concerning my employment status. It was rejected.

Their excuse: I didn't send it in on time.

Their suggestion: Hire an attorney and take it back to court.

Um, ok. Like it wouldn't take a couple years to work through the system, not to mention if I could afford an attorney, I wouldn't be filing for an increase in child support. Adam will be eighteen in about a year and a half, and then the child support ends anyway. I need it NOW.

Walt and I were watching a report about the economy on the news last night. They showed a room packed full of 40, 50 and 60 something year old people who have been looking for work for two years now. They have exhausted their unemployment benefits. Most of them had college degrees, many on a masters level yet there they are now,some of them teetering on the edge of homelessness.

Walt looked at me and said, "Oh, but just imagine how much they should be making with the degrees they all hold."

It was a joke, of course. If the nationwide mindset was like that of the CSEA and my ex husband, that whole room full of people would be expected to live off their imaginary incomes.

The CSEA is out of touch with reality in my opinion.

The ex? Not only is he out of touch with reality, after ten years, he's still proving to me why he's the "ex" to begin with!

I've been repenting daily for my attitude toward the system. I've been asking God to forgive me for the way I feel about the ex at the moment. It's not healthy for me.

So ... Bless 'em Lord! (And thank YOU for being my true Provider!)

Becky Taylor

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Willfully Underemployed

Since June, I have been in the throes of a child support adjustment review. I originally asked for the review, since it's been what ... eight years since I've had an increase? For that matter, I've never requested any changes at all.

My bad!

Meanwhile,both mine and my husband's businesses have all but bottomed out along with about 20% of the rest of Georgia's residents. (The actual unemployment rate in Ga is around 12% which is among the highest in the nation, but that only includes those who are still drawing unemployment checks. Most of the unemployed have already exhausted their benefits.)

The original findings determined I was due more child support ... and a fair amount at that.

That didn't sit well with the ex, who filed a protest. His theory was that I didn't deserve an increase. He thought the amount of child support I receive should be based on what I am capable of making instead of what I am actually bringing in.

I've never heard of such a thing and was reasonably content the magistrate would find no reason to change the first ruling.


The Child Support Enforcement Agency determined that I am indeed "willfully underemployed" Translated, this means that since I have a college degree and theoretically could be working in a hospital lab, but am not, I somehow have only myself to blame for my recent financial woes.

I am absolutely blown away by this. It's downright ridiculous!

I tried to explain to them why I was unable to work in the lab for the last couple years, that being because my son has had special needs which required me to be available at a moments notice.

I told them how I'd started the coaching business in order to try to have a steady income and keep my schedule somewhat flexible at the same time.

I mentioned the fact that over the last ten months I've applied for many laboratory jobs and actually landed four interviews only to be rejected every time.

Yes, I have a college degree and laboratory experience. I am also fifty years old and haven't worked in a lab for over six years. Hospitals aren't exactly clamoring for bench techs like me. If they do happen to be hiring, they prefer someone a little "fresher" than a fifty year old grandma who hasn't peered through a microscope since Shep was a pup!

Shame on the Child Support Enforcement people! Double shame on my son's father! I've not caused one moments trouble with them, yet when I ask for something I rightfully deserve I am slapped in the face with a label such as "Willfully Underemployed?"

Until this happened I've often defended the CSEA. I always thought their bum rap came from lazy, good for nothing mothers whose only desire in life was to get "even" with their ex's and make them miserable ... then were disappointed when a "fair" ruling was made in favor of the fathers.

That mindset is definitely history. They are every bit as pious and uncaring as all the rumors would indicate.

"Willfully Underemployed" Yeah, sure ... me and about four hundred thousand other people in the state of Georgia!

Sleep well tonight, CSEA! (And may the bird of paradise fly up your nose!)

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Bye-Bye Pearly Whites!

For the last several years I've been trying to focus on what decent physical attributes I have left rather than pay too much attention to those that have gone away.

Frankly, I am running out of choices.

My body betrayed me this past year by packing on nearly 20 lbs in additional weight.

The wrinkles on my face and bags under my eyes which I'd managed to "hold at bay" (more or less) suddenly called for a back up of enemy forces and launched a full fledged attack. I'm so outnumbered, I've been forced to retreat.

I've also had to start wearing reading glasses all the time ... another slap to my already slipping self image.

I should also mention that every body part that could possibly hurt, has begun to do just that. My joints are playing tag, taking turns in deciding as which one is going to scream in pain next.

Well, at least I can still smile, right?


An innocent dental visit for a routine cleaning and exam has eliminated that now too. The dentist told me I have a moderate degree of periodontal disease. That means my teeth are likely to fall out (literally) sometime in the not too distant future unless we do something to stop it now. The bones that are meant to hold my teeth in place are deteriorating rapidly. We must intervene before it reaches the point of no-return.

It's a genetic thing. I take good care of my teeth. I brush and floss just like I'm suppose to. (Actually, I got "scolded" for "over-brushing". I guess there's a first for everything.)

Of all the things about myself I've become disgruntled with, I've continued to like my smile. I like laughing. I like making other people laugh. I appreciate when people compliment me on my nice white teeth. It makes me smile even more. The more I smile, the better I feel.

It was nice while it lasted!

Let it be recorded on this date, Sept. 14, 2010. One month and one day after my fiftieth birthday, I am officially falling apart.

We started phase one of my dental treatment yesterday. It consisted of numbing my gums until I couldn't feel anything from my eyeballs to my collar bone, then digging into the "gum pockets" around each of my teeth and scraping the roots with a sharp, pointy metal instrument.

Yes, it was every bit as much fun as it sounds like it would be.

Afterwards, I was given a prescription for an antibiotic mouth wash which I was informed will turn my teeth BROWN. All the hard work I've put into keeping my smile shining white has been for naught. I still got periodontal disease and I'm going to have brown teeth (at least for a while.)They will be cleaning and polishing my teeth next month, so I'm hoping that means my smile will not be permanently dis-colored.

Oh, and we're going to set up a "treatment plan" to further pursue the periodontal issue. Translated, I'm fairly certain this is going to end up costing me a fortune! For what they charged for the two previous procedures alone, I could've had a mini-face lift.

For what it will likely end up costing overall, I could probably get a tummy-tuck, liposuction, a face lift and a nice long tropical vacation complete with a bikini to show off my new body.

But no. Instead I get dental work that won't improve my appearance, but rather make it worse for a while.

I can't help but wonder if it wouldn't be better to go ahead and spend the money on all the other stuff ... the things I'd actually like to get done, and let nature take its course with my teeth. Afterwards, I could always get dentures, and I'd look good in the process.

It can't hurt to ask! I'm going to suggest we throw that option into my "treatment plan." I'll be sure and let you know how that works for me!

Becky Taylor
Sept. 14,2010

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

The Best Laid Plans of Mice ... and Fifty Year Old Women

Summer of 2010 has come to an end.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry about that fact. I suppose someday in the (very distant) future, I may look back and laugh but at the moment I am leaning toward the latter choice. Summer 2010 was, for the most part, what my son would refer to as an "epic fail"

I had huge plans and high hopes for Summer 2010. Had I not been so excited about it, I would not have been so disappointed of course. The season was nothing ... nothing like I'd imagined or planned for it to be.

As the old saying goes, "The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry" The summer of 2010 was most definitely "awry!"

A few un-awry (is that even a word?) things did happen and are worthy of mention...

My sixth grandchild, James Daniel was born August 20th. That's a very good thing, right?

My son stayed out of trouble. Don't think for one minute that I didn't notice or appreciate that!

Hold on, I'm trying to think of a few more positive points.

I would say I "made it" to fifty, but that would only remind me of the epic failure the whole occasion proved to be. Ugh! I definitely hope to forget that one!

I suppose the best thing I can do is close the chapter that was the Summer of 2010 and move on to the next ... Fall. Fall will be much better than was summer. I'm pretty sure of that. This time I will not be disappointed.


Because this time I've made no plans at all!

Becky Taylor

Sunday, August 22, 2010

There's A New Kid In Town

Welcome to the world Baby James Daniel Jackson!

My newest grandson arrived Friday, August 20, 2010 at 3:11 p.m. He weighed in at a whopping 10 lbs. 10 oz!

Here are some pictures of the "little" guy:

I've been with my daughters when each of the other grandchildren were born, but I missed Baby James' birth. Common sense mandates that I wait and go to Ohio after Angel gets out of the hospital when I can truly be of assistance to her. I found myself regretting allowing "common sense" to rule though, when Angel developed complications and had to be given general anesthetic for a C-section.

I paced the driveway, phone in hand, waiting for updates from my niece who was there at the hospital in Ohio.

I shouted angrily when I heard how immature everyone was acting in the waiting room 500 miles away. (It happens every time)

I cried when I thought about how scared my daughter must have been when they told her they were going to need to put her under for the C-section.

Then I forgot about it all and smiled when the first photo of my new grandson finally arrived on my telephone screen.

He's perfect!

And I am in love ... again.

"Mamaw" Becky Taylor
August 22,2010