Hey Y'all, Watch This!

Tonight I'm watching CNN.com for breaking news. I'm seeing a whole lot of this:

Image from cnn.com.

**Update**
**Which has, incidentally, changed to this since I started the post about 20 minutes ago. Poor McCain. Image from cnn.com.**

This being only the second election of my adult life, and the first one I've ever really paid attention to, I'm wondering just one thing: When do we find out who wins? I mean, if we don't already have a really good prediction, like CNN does.

***Update: Never mind. I got it sorted.***

If you're heartbroken about this {or if you're jumping for joy, this could be a good celebration}, I would like to introduce you to a brand-old feature of Archives of Our Lives that should cheer you up: The Follow Me Feature.

See there, to the left of this post, the group of 16 people who follow this blog?

Don't they look like they're having fun? That's because they are. They are having fun following this blog.

Here's how you, too, can have fun for the low low cost of nothing:

Step 1: Sign in to your Blogger™ account. Don't have one? Start one up at blogger.com. Don't want to? Fine, then. Forget about it.

Step 2: Return to www.archives-lives.blogspot.com. It should look something like this:

Or in other words, exactly where you are.

Step 3: Direct your gaze (and your mouse) to the "Follow This Blog" feature. It will be easy to find, because it's at the top left-hand corner of the blog, and it's titled "Maybe I Can't Lead, But You Can Surely Follow."

Just a reminder--it looks like this.

Step 4: Click "Follow This Blog." It's the red link above the photos of all the other happy people who are already following this blog.

Step 5: Enjoy fresh updates right in your Blogger™ Dashboard every time you sign in--and ever time I've updated. It's like Google Reader™, but for people who don't understand how to use Google Reader™. People like you and me...or maybe just me.

And a note to those 16 of you who've already signed up: Thanks guys. You're the best.

Anyway, join in the fun--I'll make it worth your while, with a special giveaway only for people who are signed up to follow this blog. When? Soon, I promise. I just have to go to Oregon and come back, and we'll be golden.

I Have Completely Lost My Capacity for Making Decisions.

My body cannot take much more of this exhaustion. Every morning that I wake up to the sound of my phone's alarm, I think, "If it is really time to get out of bed I'll kill myself." The days are long and the nights are short, and my predominant feeling is one of constant pain.

I'm just...so...tired.

Nevertheless, I care about my blog, and the people who read it. So I will continue to post during this trying time, and hopefully reap the rewards [a readership who trusts me when I say I will write every weekday possible] later on in life.

Oh, I'll write; only I can't guarantee I'll be making any sense.

The good thing is, Thursday is here. And that means I get to answer a question--one of my favourite features here at Archives of Our Lives.

Q (from Loralee Choate):

How the hell and why do you have so many anonymous commenters? I read hundreds and hundreds of blogs and I've never seen such a high ratio.

What's the deal? Have they told you? Is it family that hates registering for things or something?

Finally (Because this would be how I feel):

Does this not drive you nutso? Have you considered turning the anonymous option off?

A (from me):

Oh, Loralee. Your query breeches the subject that is a constant issue among the inner echelon of Archives of Our Lives cronies. To allow, or not to allow? That is my great inner debate. Poor Kyle, he thinks I should not allow anonymous comments anymore. Ever. He gets as annoyed as you seem to be.

Me? I'm not so bugged. I mean, I like readers. I do. The fact that I seem to have a million who are sneaky and unwilling to own up to their true identity...well...I still like readers.

I don't know why I have so many. Maybe they're all one person; maybe they're 100 separate people.

I have considered removing the ability to allow anonymous comments--I consider it every day, and come to no conclusions.

So what's the skinny, everyone? I have completely lost my capacity to make decisions. I am numb from exhaustion this week, and I cannot--physically and mentally cannot--decide if I should do something about this, or leave it be.

You can leave your opinion in the comment section, or at the poll to the right.

I'd be much obliged.

Growing a Face of Leather {Thick and Tough}.

**Update: Everybody's comments have been so sweet today, I decided to declare this "Official AoOL Reader Appreciation Weekend." Every comment I get, I will be responding to. I will read all the blogs of any new person who introduces his or her self, so if you left a comment (or are planning on it still), there is {or will be} a reply comment waiting for you. Boy, if that isn't a treat, I don't know what is. {Yes, I do. Something that starts with "Golden" and ends with "Spoon" comes to mind. I'd way rather have ice cream than a personal message from me, but it's the best I can do.}**

I have had this on my mind a lot lately; I would like to address a few topics here on this blog today.

Well, only one topic, really: me. That is, me in respect to Archives of Our Lives.

A lot of people say that blogging is their "journal;" their creative outlet; the place they go to vent and feel all of their feelings. I say, good for them. I read lots of those blogs, and faithfully so. I follow several blogs written by stay-at-home moms who mostly write so their friends and family can be updated on their lives. That's fine, too. In fact, I haven't met many blogs I don't like. There's something intriguing to me about peeking into the lives of others, whether they be career people, family people, homeless people, or all of the above.

Each blog has a purpose...and the purpose of my blog is to entertain.

I have never aspired to anything more. I don't expect to change the world, nor do I anticipate anything monumental ever happening here. I blog because I hope to brighten people's day--to give each and every one of you something to look forward to.

Here I am--just me and the ice cream truck driver. I like waffle cones and the colour pink, and I never mean to make people mad. I'm just me, plain and simple.

A well-known theme of blogging is that many of us "live for comments." I subscribe to that school of thought, one hundred percent. I read each and every comment made on my blog--most comments I read more than once. Every piece of advice I receive, I contemplate. Every time a new person de-lurks, I immediately swing by his or her blog to check it out [though it takes a few comments from a new person for me to feel a true bond, so if you feel like I don't give your blog enough attention, just say so {by commenting}]. And I notice when otherwise-regular commenters go missing.

In other words, I care what you think. I care very much, and it's not necessarily because I want you to like me (though that's always nice). Rather, I care because I write for you. Not for me. For you. If you are reading this post, whether you like me or not, you are fulfilling the purpose of my blog.

And because I care so much what my readers think, I put forth a great effort not to offend people.

But guess what? I am doing a lousy job of it. Despite the fact that I never--ever--publish a post without carefully considering ways my words might be misconstrued, I have learned that I am quite often unsuccessful. I have estranged people who are dear to me, along with people I've never met. Posts I have considered hilarious have driven many people to the point of boycotting my blog altogether. I've been called a b**ch. I've been cordially invited to eff off. I have been told I'm immature, inconsiderate, inappropriate, disappointing, disrespectful, ignorant, rude, thoughtless, careless, mean, selfish, cruel, bitter, vicious, a button-pusher, and starved for attention. {I've had to grow some pretty thick skin, but not so thick that I ignore people altogether. Only thick enough that these comments can't quite seep into my self-esteem.}

To solve this problem, I've been advised to close my blog to anonymous comments. I've been told to close all comments period. It's been suggested to make my blog private.

Many people think I should simply delete my blog and quit this aspect of my life completely.

But none of those ideas appeal to me: I don't really mind anonymous commenters; forbidding all comments completely would defeat the purpose of my blog, as would going private; and I don't relish the idea of quitting altogether.

Instead, I've decided the best solution for my dilemma is to write a disclaimer:

This blog is not homework--reading is not mandatory. It is never my intent to hurt people's feelings. Inasmuch as I cannot forsee what everybody is experiencing in their lives, I cannot predict which phrases to avoid, which words to gloss over, or which parts of my brain to keep to myself. If your feelings were hurt and you want to tell me...by all means, tell me. If your feelings were hurt and you want to quit my blog, I will understand.

But if your feelings were hurt and you can find the time to step back, realise I didn't mean any offense, and you still sort of agree with or enjoy some of the things I write...then please know that you are welcome here.

I may not babysit your kids, but I will--with any luck--give you something new to laugh about nearly every day of the week {give or take some [or all]}.

Time to Talk About Me Some More.

Guess what? I have a secret. But I'm not going to tell anyone what it is until tomorrow. Chew on that for a while.

Meanwhile, I believe it's Thursday all over this hemisphere, and that means it's time for me to answer a question.

Here's one from Cristin:

Do people in your everyday life know you have a blog?

Cristin, this is a very applicable question. All of my family (immediate, in-laws, extended, way-extended, and beyond) know I have a blog, as well as anybody who is my friend on Facebook. I have inadvertently offended some of them on my blog—that is NEVER my intention, despite what people might think. Despite my efforts, however, my blog has become a source of contention between me and several people I love. I’ve learned how careful I ought to be.

As far as my town, Mayberry—I don’t think any Mayberrians knows about my blog. I don’t know any people closely enough for them to even suspect I have a blog.



If anybody in Mayberry DOES know about Archives of Our Lives, I am in big trouble. This is why, if I ever write an award-winning, best-selling novel, I will publish it under a fantastic pen name [which I have already created]. I will only ever reveal myself to Oprah, and even that is dependent upon whether she allows me as a guest on her “Winter Favourite Things” episode.

I suppose I should live my life--and write my blog--in such a manner that would never leave me looking over my shoulder, wondering who has read the latest post. That's probably safest, really...

Meh. Who am I kidding? That would never work for me.

What about you? Do you have a blog of your own? And if so, how do you feel about your friends, family, and acquaintances knowing?

Does This Playlist Make My Blog Look Fat?

Oh, boy—have I ever got a problem.

See, I don’t like being poked fun of (whereas everyone else in the world enjoys it, I know). Unfortunately for me, I’ve been reading this blog and I have become mind-wrackingly paranoid that the author is making fun of me--me, personally. And so now, whether or not I actually fit into the group of people the blogger is writing about, I am painfully trying to decide what to do—if anything. See, I’m worried about the music playlist on Archives of Our Lives, because some of the songs I play are also featured on Seriously So Blessed.

And I don’t think it matters, either, that I change my music almost constantly to match my daily blog posts. I still feel like a total loser. This is almost worse than going to a movie by myself.

So come on—be honest: Does this playlist make my blog look fat?
Do you upload my blog, Archives of Our Lives, and automatically hit the “mute” button before you even start reading?


Because sometimes I do, and I'm not kidding. Sometimes it’s 100% distracting...yet other times I think the songs really do add an interesting element that I’d hate to lose.

But, impressionable as I am, I will get rid of my music playlist altogether if you all decide I should…

…so should I?

View the poll to the right, and help me decide. Please--I can't stand the humiliation.

I've Just Thought of an Excellent Plot for a Horror Film...

Remember last August how my hand got sore from a case of blogger finger?


Well, apparently the disease has spread to the produce. I was washing vegetables for a lovely salad last night, when I came across a past-its-peak carrot that felt fleshy and bony and strangely like a human digit (Haunted houses, anyone? It's genius.). Inasmuch as there was no way I was eating a carrot that felt like a human finger, I tossed it on top of a pile of lettuce to go to the garbage.

And when I came back, it looked like this:


Gross. It matched my blogger finger perfectly.

I got to thinking later (this morning in the shower, if you must know), and realised I've come upon something genius--this is just the stuff that horror films are made of! I can see it now...

Carrot Man vs. Lettuce Lady in...Where Have all the Vegetables Gone??

Not only will your children never sleep again, but you can forget about them touching their salads at dinner.

My Year in Review: Happy Birthday, Little Blog!

On Saturday, July 12th, this blog turned one year old.

I debated holding another giveaway to celebrate, but I still don't make any money off this blog, (or as a human being in general) so I decided to limit my expenditures.

Instead, I dove into the Archives of my life, and picked out some of the most monumental (or just plain mental!) posts of the past 367 days.

For those of you who've been following faithfully since day one, this might get tedious. But I thought the newcomers may enjoy reading up on AOOL, how it came to be, and what-not.

And if nobody enjoys reading these archives, I suppose it will have been an exercise in humility for me. Humility--maybe that's something I can write about for next year's birthday?

-Day 1

-Back when Poor Kyle was simply "Kyle"

-Coming to terms with my sense of style

-The time I threatened to quit blogging unless more people started commenting

-How I feel about the OB/GYN

-Trying to plan a wedding and having a nervous breakdown

-Trying to plan a wedding and losing my mind

-When Kyle became Poor Kyle

-Wedding time

-How I feel about the MVD

-This podunk town's emergency room

-That mean old lady at church

So there ya have it. Read them all or don't read any.

But if you do read one or two, feel free to leave comments, even though they're old posts--I'll get them right in my inbox, and I'll cherish every one.

Thanks for a fantastic year!

{I Met Loralee and All I Got Was a Low Self-Esteem}

I drove 13 hours to meet Loralee.

Okay, so I was going through Utah anyway, and I had three hours to go from there, so I needed to stop for dinner. But that doesn't mean I was any less excited for the rendezvous.


See, there was this time in my life that I lost my faith in humanity; Loralee renewed that faith. During the first few months of my blogging obsession, I stalked many a talented bloggers, and didn't quite understand why none of them stalked me in return. Loralee was the first professional blogger to acknowledge me, and even then it was only after I begged on my hands and knees for it. But however pathetic my reasons, I felt like a superstar the first day I read a comment from her, and every comment thereafter. I'm sure she was just trying to be nice, because she'd been in my position, but eventually I gathered the courage to email her and now we're sort of friends.

And we've met, so we're sort of better friends.

She's really very nice. For anyone wondering whether he or she should try and meet his or her blogging hero, my advice is to go for it.

For one thing, she buys cute shoes at good prices. Very likable indeed. (The blogger, not the shoes. [Though the shoes are nice, too.])

Probably all blogging heroes are as cool as Loralee, who asked the waiter to split our cheques right from the start [I am so paranoid about whether or not that is tacky, I would have paid for me, Loralee, and her displaced southern belle friend, if it meant I could avoid an awkward situation. I bet you wish you'd never spoken up, eh Loralee?].

Also, I got the scoop on a lot of juicy drama that Loralee is too tasteful to ever actually post on her blog--it was the real inside edition, and totally worth every moment of pre-meeting anxiety.

But really, our friendship was doomed from the beginning. Loralee and I can never become truly bosom buddies. Because when our dinner at Chili's was over, our pictures were taken and our goodbyes hugged, I unlocked the door to Tamra Camry, sank--relieved at my presence of mind through the meal--into the driver seat, and checked the visor mirror. Only about an hour too late...

Like I said--doomed. And it'll be a cold day in Mesa before I order lettuce wraps in public again.

*Really, though. Loralee is lots of fun. Go meet her and tell her that crazy girl sent you.*

{This is Just an Appetizer}

I have a lot of posts I need to write, but I don't have the mental energy to do any of them justice right now. See, I'm getting ready to drive back to Canada, which--anxious though I am to reunite with my husband and garden--is going to be slightly less thrilling than my drive down to Arizona. It isn't easy, this division of interests that makes up my life. When I'm there I want to be here, and when I'm here I like being here--but I miss my new little life up there.

The good news is Poor Kyle is totally willing to move down here, which would be as close to ideal as I might ever come. The bad news is he'd only move down here if he could be a police officer, which means all my fears of him dying young would be 99% more warranted.

At any rate, I'm not writing about this yet, because I need to go to sleep.

Other things I'm not writing about:
-My dear friend Chelsie getting home from Brazil
-My brother-in-law's addictions and the effect they have on his marriage
-A boy named Grad
-PedEggs™
-The time I ate raw fish like a heathen (or sushi like a yuppie, depending who you are)
-Meeting Loralee in person for the first time

For now, I am going to ask that any new readers who've come along (or any seasoned readers who have recently started blogs of their own) please leave a comment on this post with your blog address, so I can update my link list--once again, I'm kicking off people who don't update frequently enough (at least once a month) and adding readers whose blogs I'll be stalking soon. If you would like to become a part of my link list, go ahead and let me know!

And stay tuned for better things to come.

{What I Really Need Is a Chicken Wing and a Good Hair Cut}

In most cases, I jump on any bandwagon that looks like fun; in today's case (i.e. The Case of Typing "(Your Name) Needs" Into the Google Search Bar and Hitting Enter), I'm really glad I did. Because evidently...

-Camille needs bodyguards because too many people hate her.
-Camille needs men.
-Camille needs issues addressed on the level of feelings.
-Camille needs to change her horizons.
-Camille needs to negotiate with the manager to get an EDIFACT order process.
-Camille needs to get a backbone.

{How about a chicken bone and a good cut 'n colour?? That's what I say.}

-Camille needs a duck to keep her company.
-Camille needs an experienced dog owner that is willing to work with her and train her with consistency.
-Camille needs to watch his words ("Camille" can be a man's name in French, you know--it's pronounced "Camee").
-Camille needs a little more Prozac™, and...
-Camille needs an ice water enema administered with a 3" fire hose fitted with a wide-angle nozzle [goodness gracious--Poor Other Camille!].

Try it--it's fun. It's like cracking open a whole bunch of fortune cookies all at once.

Also, you have until 10 p.m. tonight to enter yesterday's contest. Winners of the $25.00 gift card will be announced Thursday morning.

I've Got $25 That Say You Can't Make Me Laugh

**UPDATE: Thank you for all the entries thus far. Keep them coming! This contest will run until Wednesday night, May 28 2008 at 10 p.m. Arizona time.**

Is it just me, or are these things getting harder?

I am always trying to comment on blogs, and I have to go through two or three of these "guess what letters these are" games. Only they aren't the kind of games that are fun--they're the kind that make me want to throw away my laptop and forget technology ever existed. And I swear, they're getting harder. Maybe I just have poor vision, but I really struggle with these things. I can't even tell "i" from "j" half the time. They remind me of the eye exam place, and I hate eye exams--they stress me out:

"Ummm...P! No, F! No...argh..." [By the way--the last eye exam I took was for immigration purposes a few weeks ago, and Poor Kyle did NOT help me cheat. He did NOT shake his head when I called an "F" a "P," and he did NOT subtly nod when I correctly identified an "O." He did no such thing.]

Anyway, I read a blog some time ago whose author held a contest for the most clever made-up definition of one of these "words." (As a side note, you may or may not know that about 50% of all bloggers use these types of word identification applications to ensure their readers are not robots or aliens or something called a phish. But now you know for sure. I myself simply choose to trust that the 100 people in the world who read Archives of Our Lives are, in fact, human.)

So of course I entered, because I'm always entering blog giveaways (and consequently always reeling from the sting of failure when I am not givenaway anything). And I always secretly figured I would hold the same sort of contest. So I've been "collecting" some examples over the past few months, and today I decided to post the giveaway.

Rules and Regulations:

1. For any of the pictured word-identification sets, think of a clever could-be definition. Or, for sets that don't seem like word, make up an acronym with the random letters. Good luck--some of them look like they make use of the dollar sign. I'm very interested to see how you might incorporate the dollar sign into an acronym.

2. There is no limit to the amount of times you may enter. I know I personally get funnier later in the day, when the reality of getting out of bed is far behind me. So go ahead! Feel free to enter two, three, or 20 times. But do remember that this competition is based solely on cleverness and wit.

3. Link to my blog in a post on your blog. I know this rule makes a lot of people (ahem. Kayleen) uncomfortable, but if you don't do it, you don't get to win. You can still enter, of course, because I love a good laugh. But you won't win. You might come close, but you won't win.

The prize is a $25.00 gift card to the retail location of the winner's choice (i.e. Border's.com, Amazon.com, BurgerKing.com, or even QT. Whatever tickles your fancy.)

Also, I may or may not give away a second gift card at random, so even if you don't have a blog to use for linking purposes, you may as well still enter.

*Special thanks to Poor Kyle, who knows nothing of this recent family expenditure. He's a real gem. [I love you, dear.]*

{Celebrate Good Times}

Guess what? You'll never guess, so I'll spit it out. This is my 100th post on Archives of Our Lives. (Every time I write "Archives of Our Lives," I feel like the word "our" should not be capitalised, because it's so short. It doesn't seem important enough to get its own upper-case "O." [Being six feet tall, I am occasionally prone to further demoting short things in my life--it makes me feel good about myself.] But "our" is not an article, so I guess it deserves its rightful capitalisation. But I'll never be happy about it.)

I have been wanting to do a blog giveaway for a long time, but haven't found a good enough reason to. My 100th post seems like as good a time as any. It's only fair to try and reward people-who-read-my-blog [I can't call you "my readers," because that makes me sound a lot fancier than I really am], for providing me with feedback and validation. If I thought nobody ever read Archives of Our Lives, I wouldn't continue with it--I write so people will tell me I'm a good writer, not just to vent like our friend Emily Dickinson did. I think it's really exciting that real, live people might actually want to read something I write. (Also, in an attempt to gain further validation, I am hoping a giveaway will make people come out of the woodworks and comment, perhaps congratulating me on my hundredth post...or just saying "hello.")

So here's how it works:

1) Comment on this post. Make it clever, witty, or at least interesting to read. I will choose the cleverest, wittiest, or funniest commenter and reward said commenter with a $25.00 gift card to said commenter's choice of establishment (i.e. amazon.com, iTunes, Best Buy, or a lunch-y place like Applebee's).

2) Commenter ought to then mention this giveaway somewhere on their own blog, because that seems like a nice thing to do. And being nice is what I'm all about... If any commenter doesn't have a blog of their own, then obviously, it isn't necessary to mention the giveaway. They could write about it in their journal, if they wanted to, but that doesn't really do me any good. Nevertheless, anyone witty can win, blog-keeper or not.

3) That's it!

If anyone is worried that he or she is too boring to possibly win the clever comment contest, he or she ought to still comment, because I am also giving away a $15.00 gift card to one lucky random winner--boring or not. Same guidelines apply.

So, comment. Just do it. What have you got to lose?

p.s. Though my blog archives may only read "99 Posts," I am counting the little gem I wrote and subsequently deleted last month whilst visiting my family in Arizona. It was all about keeping Mayberry...Mayberry; it may well have been one of my best works. If there are two things I regret about my life, they are playing the piano instead of the flute for Junior Miss during my senior year of high school, and deleting the "Mayberry" post from my blog.

The Great Debate

I am trying to post more often. Have you noticed? Last week I wrote on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I am trying for the 5-days-a-week type of blog. Make it more like a job. Make myself more dedicated to "the cause." ["The cause" is yet to be determined, since my blog still hasn't defined its real purpose in the e-niverse.] Make my life have one more meaning.

There's a problem, though. In all my natural indecision, I can't decide if this aforementioned resolve is a good one. In my life, checking peoples' blogs is a daily (and often bi/tri-daily occurrence, if I'm particularly unmotivated to do more productive things). Reading blogs comes as a real joy to me, but I don't know if I'm the only person this obsessive. Is it good to post so much, or bothersome? Do you, as a person who is currently reading this blog, feel obligated to check up on me, or is "blogging" your idea of a real good time? How much are we really alike, you and me? Shall I blog a very lot, or very little? And please don't give me some answer like, "It's up to you, Camille. Whatever makes you happy." Because it's not about me. I blog because I like writing, yes; but mostly because I like to entertain.

So I am putting it up to you all. Not fishing for compliments {ahem}, just wondering if I'd be a nuisance or not. Do keep in mind the question isn't whether or not you like my blog...I'm assuming since you read it, you like it. Nor is the question whether I should change the way I write--because I won't. I just want to know if reading this blog 5 days a week would be tedious.

In an effort to come to an educated conclusion, I'm taking a poll...look to the right-hand side of your screen. See it? So take a moment to vote--let your voices be heard. I won't get my feelings hurt if you think blogging 5 days a week is too much. Truly. No, really. I want to know. I'm not fond of being a bother, so if you have any opinion on the matter whatsoever, speak up!

{Fame}

Back in the miserable month of August, I wrote about how the only thing getting me through the month was this hilarious kid. He's gained international popularity for the three words he declared on the local news in Portland, Oregon last summer, "I Like Turtles."

It wouldn't be so funny, except for the fact that he was asked what he thought of his zombie face-paint job. Turtles had nothing to do with the matter. Anyway, there would be no sense in me revisiting the incident, except for this: The page I linked to in my original commentary, "The Washington Post," linked back to me! I don't know, I guess they have tech people working on figuring out who is reading their website. Anyway, they found my post and linked back to it! Isn't that amazing? Go ahead...click here. Scroll down a bit. Just to the right of the fourth paragraph is a little box that reads, "Who's Blogging?"

See that first link there? The one that reads, "Archives of Our Lives." That would be me. You can click on it again if you want--it will bring you to the original post I wrote about the kid. It's an entire mind-blowing network of link love!

I am tickled pink about this. And though I know it's not really a huge deal, I kind of feel like I've won a Grammy.

Blogger Finger

def. 1. Blogger Finger [blah-grrr feen-grrr] (Modern American English): Intense soreness and physical discomfort in the right hand, most commonly found at the joint connecting the second metacarpal and second proximal phalanges. May also occur in the left hand, in cases of left-hand dexterity. Said to be caused by many hours of using a computer notebook trackpad for many daytime and nighttime hours on end. No known cure. ex. Ms. Strate's doctor said her case of blogger finger was caused by e-stalking, and would curse her all of her days.