Wednesday, January 13, 2016


I promise to keep writing my blog even if I do win tonight's lottery.  Why should numbers printed on white ping pong balls change my life?  At 1.5 billion or $930,000,000 in cash value anyone's life would change.  An unnamed family member said she didn't want to get a ticket because it would ruin her life if she won.  She has now purchased the life ruining ticket.

If the magic genie grants my wish, there are a few things I would like to change.  And I am very shallow in this concept, mostly.  I would first spend about three or four days living under the bed.  You never know what might land on your head.  And I will look so silly it will take a few days before I can go out in public, even to acquire my legal, tax, security and beautifying teams.  I can promise you I will have my hair done daily even for just hanging out in the mansion.

I will buy a house up on the ridge overlooking the river and have Chip and Joanna Gaines of HGTV Fixer Upper come and do their thing.  With a pool.  On the way to my newer house, I would like to go jewelry shopping for a long strand of pearls like they wear on Downton Abbey and maybe a diamond bracelet.

As soon as we can share our secret, we will fly all of our family and friends in for a big party.  I want the big floating moon balloon hanging over my pool.  We've already nixed the idea of buying our own plane.  A charter seems to be the best way to go for those kinds of things.

To remain anonymous, I can't list my donations but my church, institutions of learning and local charities would be high on the list.  I really am not into having my name plastered everywhere.

I would definitely give my family a fair share so we could all have a blast sitting around the pool in Palm Springs saying "Look at us now, just folks from Arkansas."

Do dreams really wrap themselves around a slim piece of paper?  We will find out tonight.  Don't you hope a bunch of people win, share the wealth?

Taking a chance for $2 on $1.5 billion.  But we take chances everyday.  What are the odds that the complete stranger wearing tube socks and running gear sitting in front of you will become your husband?  Or the little spit of a pup covered in seed ticks will grow up and fill out to become a love in your life?  Or the mewing lamb you're handed, who's arrived three weeks early, and someone tells you "it's a girl" will take away your breath and heart instantly?

Or the car will flip and you will be able to climb out of it?  The loan will go through on your first tiny home?  The 104 fever will break with the first hint of dawn's light?  The surgical odds will be defied time and time again and surgeons will shake their heads in awe?

What are the odds for personally seeing every President in your lifetime, nine minus one?  What are the chances for you, the biggest fan, being able to greet Olivia Newton John to your city, spur of the moment, in a quiet southern airport?  Or having a spring dress you made worn to the White House?

What are the chances of symphonies being written by a man losing his hearing?  Or bright, beautiful paintings created by a man losing his mind?

What are the chances you will be born into a loving family who spends vacations camping around the country and singing to the radio?  Or the roof won't leak with the weight of a record snow?  Beds are warm and dry with fresh linens?  The kitchen is always busy with a pot roast cooking and merginue being spread on chocolate pie?

Maybe the white balls bouncing down the plastic tube can't touch us.  The details have already played out in our lives.  Maybe all the chances are blessings unaware.  

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