Resolved

I want to write New Year's resolutions that are clever and quirky. I want them to rhyme or be an alliteration. I want my children to say, "Oh, Mom you are so witty!" I want my husband to say, "Honey, you are a real crackerjack." I want my friends to be impressed. I want my co-workers to be envious of my obvious intelligence. I want neighbors to smile and wave and shout as I drive by, "You're a fine neighbor!" I want others to try and imitate me. I want to copyright my New Year's resolutions so folks from all over will have to call me to get permission to use them (which, by the way, I will grant with grace and class).

So, this is my resolution:

Resolved, in the year of our Great Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, two-thousand twelve, I will write the best ever New Year's Resolution. That gives me 365 days to come up with it : )

Politically Incorrect - Merry Christmas Rant

Merry Christmas! Can you believe that sometimes feelings are hurt when this is said or not said? I heard a dear Christian woman say, "I don't care what the cashier at Wal-Mart says to me, I am responding 'Merry Christmas' to them. Humph." A holiday greeting should be a greeting stated with love. Yes, folks, LOVE. Let's shout that from the roof tops with good ole' Saint Nick. LOVE. If someone does not want to be merry on Christmas, let it go. If someone wants to wish you a Happy Holiday, for pete's sake, let them. If someone says "Season's Greetings" on your Christmas card, accept the greeting with grace and with love. LOVE. No one can put a political correctness in my heart about Christmas. It is a holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, who I believe with all of my heart and soul, is my Lord and Savior and that makes me merry. Merry Christmas! Do I desire for others to share that merriment with me? Yes! How do I do that? I do it with love. LOVE. I wish them a Happy Holiday or Season's Greeting if that is what they want to hear. I don't push my Christmas agenda on them to make a point. It's all about the love. If, as Christians, we can't be kind hearted to others during a season of celebration, if we can't show love and tolerance, then how are we going to draw others close? How are we going to show the love of Jesus. Let's not make the greeting about us, let's make it about the love.

Wishing all of you a sincere Season's Greeting, a Merry Christmas, a Happy Holiday, a message from my heart filled with love and blessings to you and yours.

And The Boy Said...

So, the 17 year old boy comes to me and says, "Ma, can me and my friend go to a motocross track 4 hours away from home, race ATV's all day and then spend the night at a camp ground in the woods?" I carefully thought about it for an entire 4 seconds and said, "No." For the next 3 days he followed me around the house asking me why I was so mean? I told him I used to be nice, I only got mean after I had kids. He tried every trick under the sun to make me and my husband feel guilty for not letting him go. This is the same boy that tried to swim in the ocean in Florida a week ago while there were black flags posted because of a tropical storm off the coast. This the same boy who, being very allergic to blueberries, asked if he could eat one to see what would happen. This is the same boy who wanted to put a motor on his skate board. And this is the same mom who said, "No. No. No." I promised him we would do something really fun instead. The boy asked, "Ma, what are we doing this weekend instead of me going to a really cool motocross race track and racing ATV's for 2 days?" I said, in my best-ever cheery voice, "Oh, boy, we are going to church on Saturday night with the puppy and on Sunday, you're just going to love this, we're all going to go apple picking!" What do you think the boy said? . . .

Hungry Pup

Don't let those puppy dog eyes fool you. This sweet, innocent puppy was guilty . . .
of being hungry for the word of God.
"Your words were found, and I ate them,
And Your word was to me the joy and rejoicing of my heart;
For I am called by Your name, O LORD God of hosts." Jeremiah 15:16
Yep, this pup ate the word. He ate the front and back cover of my Bible, the concordance, a few maps, some essays and a chunk of Genesis. So, I fashioned a new cover using a pizza box and some duct tape. What do you think?



The women at my new job were very impressed. One of them said to me, "Oh, how MacGyver of you!"

Yay me.

Just Sad

Sometimes life is good and sometimes not. It's always hard to see times come to an end. Babies grow into toddlers, who grow into children, who grow into youngsters, who grow into adults. Vacations end, visitors leave, puppies become dogs, kids move away. Families feud, make up and feud again. What is living, dies. What's the point? I think the point is to live well while the living is good. My dear friend is at the end of her life and it saddens my heart. There are still too many things we have to do together. But, during good times and bad, we found a way to laugh. We shared stories and feelings and food and drink. We shared good health and bad health. We shared secrets and prayers and faith and love and joy. We have encouraged each other with God's word. We have agonized over our children, our country and world affairs. We armored up and stripped down. We licked our wounds and stood back up. We are battle scarred. We have seen the enemy but, we have found victory on our knees. It's easier to stand after you've been on your knees. When things seem impossible we remind each other of God's promises and say, "It's a season." There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: . . . Ecclesiastes 3:1 We have built memories, relationships and bridges. She loves me and I her. She'll go where God calls her, as we all will someday, the only difference is, she does with true peace. Her favorite verse: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27 I am not afraid my friend, just sad...

"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Conclusion

..."Sorry, Nancy, I don't go into back rooms and disrobe my feet for anybody. It's either out in the open or not at all," I said while digging my tired, un-pampered heels into the ground. "Okay, my chicken little friend, this is my treat to you. We'll do it your way," she replied. I whispered, "Stop calling me chicken little, they're vegetarians." Fast forward 10 minutes: we are now laying back in big cushy chairs, in the front of the parlor, where the receptionist answers the phones and folks come in to get their vegetarian dumplings and herbal teas. Nancy has her head back, is half asleep with her eyes closed and is moaning softly. I had my head back, but with only one eye closed. I kept sweeping the parlor, Nancy, the 2 little Chinese men, the receptionist and the variety of people coming and going with the open eye (just call me Jack Bauer). After 15 minutes, I was bored, so I started talking to Nancy. "Hey, Nance, at the Hershey Park Spa they dip your feet in warm chocolate. I think they dip your hands in warm chocolate too." She said, "Oh, have you been there?" I laughed, "Nancy, have I ever been to any spa??!!" We laughed and talked for the next 45 minutes. It was delightful, after all was said and done. I probably won't ever do something like that again, but I'm happy for the experience. When I came home, my husband asked, "So, how was it?" "Well," I replied, "I didn't let the Chinaman hold my hand." I expected him to question me, but instead, he gave me a peck on the cheek, a pat on the back and said, "That's my girl."

"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Part II

..."I don't know, Nancy...I'm not sure about a reflexology appointment," I said. "Come on friend. It's my treat, it'll be fun," she said. Reluctantly, I agreed to go. We drove to a little whole in the wall, in the next state. We walked in through hanging beads. All I could think was, "How many bodies have passed through these beads?" while looking for my hand sanitizer. This place specializes in messages, vegetarian dumplings (of all things) and Chinese herbs and teas. They also had a huge purple room set aside as a shrine to Buddha (who, by the way, does not have a healthy body image, just saying). Now I am thinking, "What have I gotten myself into!" 2 little Chinese men came out of the back and ask if we want our hands done too. I turned to Nancy and said, "I ain't letting no Chinese dude hold my hand. I only let my husband hold my hand." Nancy laughed. "You're silly," she said to me. To the Chinese men, she said, "Only the feet for my friend." Then, they directed us through more hanging beads (ewww) to the back and told us to go inside separate rooms. "Nuh-uh! I ain't going into a back room with anybody!" Nancy laughed. "You're silly," she said to me. To the Chinese men, she said, "My friend is chicken little." I'm thinking at this point, "Call me whatever you want, but I am putting my un-messaged foot down!" To be continued . . .

"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Part I

A few years ago my daughters decided I was underprivileged because I never had a pedicure. They saved their money and said, "Mother, because you have been the best mother ever, in fact, a mother like no other, (okay, literary license) we have saved our money and are sending you for a pedicure." I was thrilled. Finally, someone else to do my little piggies that spent endless hours running to and from the market. I planned on a meal out at the brick oven Italian restaurant, all by myself, before my pedicure. No one to interrupt my thoughts, no one to serve, no disputes to settle amongst the children - just me, daydreaming, praying, eating a meal without rushing. Sounds lovely, right? Well, it didn't exactly turn out that way. 3 people saw me by myself and wanted to sit with me. 2 actually sat down and ordered drinks before I politely told them to scram. Then, I had to wait 15 minutes for my pedicure "appointment". The water in the tub was so hot I immediately got flushed and had a hot flash. It didn't help that the woman next to me had gross toe fungus or that the sweet Asian women keep on speaking to each other, looking at me and giggling. The nail polish I picked was almost empty, but they used it anyway. 7 toes into my first-ever pedicure the polish ran out and they had to use another bottle of polish that didn't exactly match. Not the professional look I was going for (sheesh, I could have done that). So, when my dear friend called me this week and offered to take me for a reflexology appointment, her treat (because "you are a friend like no other" - she really did say that), I was skeptical . . .

Decision Well Made

"Why aren't you blogging?" many folks asked. My answer has been, "I'm too busy." That's not entirely true. The real reason is that I was not in a great place. Lord knows I like to embellish the truth, or tell the truth in a funny way. I write the truth as I see it, through my lense, which is usually silly (y'all know I can't make this stuff up, right?). It was hard for me to write this summer because we had some heavy things on our minds. I know my friends love me during every season, but they enjoy me more during the good seasons and I like to be a joy to others. So, I didn't write because I wasn't seeing the joy or the silliness. We had decisions to make regarding the boy's final year of high school. He had a great year at the military school and they wanted him back (they offered him scholarships and leadership positions). But the bottom line was he didn't want to be away from home. What was best? Do we send him somewhere we know he'll succeed but would be unhappy OR do we let him stay here and hope and pray he makes good choices? Clean, quiet, empty room at the end of the hall OR messy, noisy, occupied room at the end of the hall? Life up OR life up-side-down? Well, I'd tell you about it, but the boy wants to know if I made his lunch yet, if his pants are dry and if I can pick him up after baseball practice tomorrow. Decision well made.

Here! And here, oh, and here...

My last post I asked, "Where was I anyway?"
Well, I was here...

and here...

and here...

and here... (puppy won "Best of Show")

and finally, here...

and now, I am here. . . sitting in front of the blue glow from my computer screen, losing my tan.

Hurricane Irene Miracle

Hurricane Irene hit our little burg in New Jersey. The exterior of our house was spared almost completely. A few tree branches sprinkled our property. One branch was rather large, but it did not damage a single thing. The trees needed pruning anyways and so, Irene saved me from hiring someone to do it. Leaves flew everywhere, but fortunately for us, leaves don't hurt anything. Somehow, though, Irene made her evil way into the boy's room. As you can see, it caused quite a whirlwind. Miraculously, the boy was unharmed. In fact, he slept right through it. The boy has assured me he'll get right on the clean up.

I hope you are all well (if you still bother to check my blog), and I have missed you dearly. Where was I anyway? Be blessed dear ones!

Working 9 to 5, Not ... continued

... so, with this list of demands, I went to the Lord. "God, I need a job," I said. "It has to be something fun, something that won't interfere with the raising of my teens or working for my husband, and something using my specific gifts and talents." God said, "Is that all?" I said, "No, I want lots of money, too." God said, "Don't push it." I said, "Fine... but not until September, I'm too busy with the kids and guests. I want to be able to enjoy my family and provide healthy and delicious meals for them. I want afternoons free to cook. I want to linger at the dinner table long after meals are over. What I'm saying, Lord, is the only available time would be Sunday evenings." So, God went right to work. In a matter of 6 minutes, I was hired to work Sunday evenings, 4 pm to midnight until the beginning of October. In October, my position and hours will change. I can pick my hours (15 - 25 hours per week) anytime Monday - Saturday. God saw fit to have me minister to women suffering from serious addictions. Currently, (I did my first shift yesterday) I am a monitor on Sunday evenings to 9 delightful women living in a Christian rehab facility. In October, I will be their Spiritual Counselor. I would have never taken the job, feeling wholly inadequate, if God hadn't provided everything I asked for. I am so grateful and so in awe of our God. HE provided all that I asked. The only thing I would change? I would have asked God for a new wardrobe, too : )

Working 9 to 5, Not

I have worked for my husband at our home law office for 23 years. It's been the absolute best situation I could have ever dreamed of. When the kids were little I hired a sweet old lady (may she rest in peace) to come to our house to watch the kids while I worked in the office. I took frequent breaks, ate lunch with my children and was there for every major (and minor) scrape and scrap. I was so efficient that when them new fangled computers came out, we streamlined the office work to a minimal. I was able to homeschool the kids and run the office in record time. We deemed my husband the Dean of our little Academy of Academic Excellence and as such, he came to all homeshcool trips and ceremonies. He even got to drive the van! How blessed was I? But, times are a changing. Work is slow, the kids are older, the dryer died, the van needs upgrading, college/private schools are expensive... so I told my husband, "I'm getting a job." He said, "You have a job, I still need you (awww) and there are too many people living here right now. I can't cook for them. I couldn't do what you do. Don't leave me," (literary license). So, I began to pray about it. I asked God to provide me with the absolute best situation I could dream of. I said, "God, I need a job. It has to be something fun, something that would not interfere with the raising of my teens or working for my husband, and something using my specific gifts and talents." God said, "Is that all?" I said, "No, I want lots of money, too." God said, "Don't push it." I said, "Fine..." (Is it a sin to roll your eyes at God?) ...to be continued...

Reap What You Sow

You reap what you sow. Who can argue with that? One red pepper and two feeble tomatoes is what I have sown from my community garden plot. I have gone to water the plot three times...hmmmm...and produced three fruit. Not much effort, not much harvest.


However, my black-eyed susan's, porch peppers, basil and petunia's are doing well, don't you think?

I step out my front door and water my plants and they respond by growing well.

The problem, as I see it, is that we sow well when the sowing is convenient or "fun". Raising babies was fun, ... teenagers... not so much. But, I must "tend" to raising them as I would anything else that I want to reap a harvest from. I did not expect to reap a huge harvest of tomatoes from two feeble plants that I only watered three times. (I'm sure my kids would be thrilled to know I am comparing them to tomatoes, but that's how my brain works.) Tending to teenagers is a full-time job. Just feeding them dinner is a challenge. The story of Jesus feeding 5,000+ is only amazing to me because Jesus still had energy to feed the souls of His people after feeding their stomachs. After food shopping, cooking and cleaning, I don't have much energy left. I have a friend who is very sick, so her teenage daughter moved in with us. That makes 3 teenagers and 3 adults to feed and tend to. Every night of the week someone invites someone for dinner. Two nights last week we had 9 for dinner and one night we had 30 (the baseball team). I'm not complaining, in fact, I love having people here. That's the part of sowing I don't mind. It's the deeper stuff that gets me tangled up, the feeding of souls. I want to produce a garden with a huge harvest. Pray for me, that the raising of those in my home will be more "fun" and thus easier to tend to. I wish my kids were like my basil, when I want it to continue to grow and produce a bigger harvest, I just pinch off their heads...

More Stupid Things

. . . After my workout and a few unnecessary comments under my breath about bug spray not keeping away all types of pests, I headed home to shower. But not before a gal at the gym offered to make a sample shake for folks to try. They use fresh fruits, vitamins and protein powder. She asked me what kind to make. I said, "How about the Pina Colada?" After she made the shake, she offered me a sample. I said, "Oh, no thanks, I'm allergic to pineapple." Stupid, right? Then I headed out to meet some friends. One friend is the mother of two 7 year old girls. One girl is rather dramatic. My friend shared that her daughter says to her, "Mom, you're ruining my life." My friend asked, with great concern, looking for pearls of wisdom from the "mature" mother of 3, "What do I say to her when she says that to me?" Stupidly I replied, "Tell her she ain't seen nothing yet!" Not very helpful on my part, in fact, a stupid and useless comment. After a moment of thoughtful consideration, my friend, the dear gal that she is, burst out laughing. She takes me so seriously and values everything I say. She thinks I have it all together. Poor thing. . . I just pray that my stupidity never outweighs my ability to laugh at myself.

Stupid Things

Like many people, I keep a supply of items in my car for emergencies. Pain reliever, water, a flashlight, a blanket, an umbrella, bug spray and, of course, hairspray. You never know when you're going to have a bad hair day, right? Yesterday was just that, a bad hair day. On my way to the gym I noticed my hair was a mess (don't judge me). I reached over and grabbed the familiar green bottle and sprayed my hair in perfect place. My eyes began to tear so I pulled into the parking lot at the gym and reached over and grabbed the saline (another emergency item). I rinsed my eyes. When my vision returned I saw that I had sprayed bug spray on my hair! By the way, bug spray holds your hair into place just as well as hairspray, though I would not recommend this unless it is a true hair emergency. Earlier that day I was walking with my husband and the puppy. We met, formally for the first time, neighbors that have lived on our block for 2 years (again, don't judge me). The wife is pregnant. She was refinishing a bed frame and not having a good time at it. I told her to use her "pregnancy card." Then, because that wasn't dumb enough, I complained about how the puppy wanted me to carry him home because he was tired. I said, "Sheesh, he's the one with four legs, I only have two" . . . to be continued. . .

The Cell

Do you know why we call cell phones cell phones? It's because having a cell phone is like carrying around your own personal prison cell. You can't ever escape the bounds of those who want to know where you are and what you are doing. And it's not bad enough that people can call you, they can also text you. "Y didnt u pick up when i called? lol" Seriously? I text back, "What's so funny? Y r u always lol?" And do you know what? People answer me with, "lol!" only this time with an exclamation point! Give me a little solitary confinement please. Lock me in my room with no communication devices for a week. Talk to me through the door. Or better yet, write me a letter. Wouldn't it be nice to get an old fashioned letter in the mail instead of just bills or an advertisement? Don't get me wrong. I love technology as much as the next guy, I just think we go too far with it. I don't think we ever get enough time to be alone with our own thoughts. I would make this post longer, but the warden is calling . . . I mean, the cell phone is ringing . . .

Laugh With Your Family, Not At Them

I am very sad after reading some excerpts from a newly published book. It's written by a wife and mother of three. They all live a healthy and relatively wealthy existence. What made me so sad was that the whole book was one long whine about her family. She makes fun of them on every page, in a mocking manner. I want to take this opportunity to apologize for the complaining I have done over the years about my family. I never want to sound like this woman does. I think my life is full of humor because of my family and I hope that what I share with you all is taken at face value. I love my family; my husband and my children mean the world to me. Without them I would be empty. For every dish I clean, for every sticky counter I wipe, for every hair I pull out of the drain, for every roll of toilet paper I must replace, for every dinner I cook, for every vacuum cleaner bag I change, for every smudged window I wipe, for every toilet I clean, for every article of clothing I don't get to buy so I can buy something for my children, for every load of laundry I do (actually hubby does laundry- boy, do I love that man), for every bed I change, for every cent I spend on food, for every finger print I clean off my walls (yes, I do wash my walls), for every greasy phone I pick up after the kids. . . I thank my dear Lord. I thank Him for entrusting me with these precious jewels (diamonds in the rough as they may be). I thank Him for the comedy that is this messy life of mine and pray I always have someone to pick up, clean up after, cook for and most importantly, laugh with.

Persistent Petunia

Despite my perpetual neglect, these pretty pink petunia's were persistent in producing a pulchritudinous plant.

Since You Asked, Parsley

Isn't It Great?

Ask me how I am . . . Okay, my back hurts from working in my strawberry patch for 2 hours. My neck hurts from sleeping in a funny position for 4 hours. My hand hurts from the blister I got from the wooden shovel I used in the garden. My feet hurt from walking 2 plus miles at the gym. My stomach hurts from laughing so hard while I walked with a friend. My allergies are bugging me from the new puppy. And my brain hurts from working on some children's stories I hope to get published. How am I? I am great!! I love my strawberries, they are sweet and bright and do not talk back to me. I talked to them for 2 hours and they agreed with everything I said. I slept for 4 hours in a row, that's wonderful for a chronic insomniac. My wooden shovel was a birthday gift from my family a few years ago and I smile whenever I use it. I love to walk and I love to laugh, combined it's a big ole' endorphin party. The new puppy is a joy and hours of fun a day. And finally, pain has long been known as an inspiration for writing, so bring it on.

ouch ... ouch ... ouch ... smile ... smile ... smile ... ouch ... ouch ... ouch ... smile ... smile ... smile ...

A Lovely View

This is my kitchen window. I have a lovely assortment of items on a pretty glass shelf that sits above my kitchen sink. In the center is a vase filled with sea shells, sand dollars and beach pebbles. I smile every time I do the dishes for the memories I have from vacations gone by with my family. This vase has items from two coasts and four different beaches.


Today, as I stood at my kitchen sink, doing the dishes, smiling as I often do; I looked closely at the vase and my smile disappeared. That's just lovely, I said to myself. . .




. . . a closer look revealed a stupid, stinkin' stink bug at the bottom of the vase. So, I did just what you would expect a neat freak like me would do. I turned the vase half way around so I couldn't see the bug. Now, he (the stink bug) and me, both have a lovely view.

Mom

For some reason, my mother is amused by my blog. This one is about her. I hope she is amused. My mother had surgery today to remove a "bit of cancer" from her breast. "Bit of cancer" is in quotes because that's how she told me. No tears were shed, appointments were made and attended alone, and insurance information (a daunting task) has been filed. My sister and I decided we would both come Sunday evening to tend to her needs, bring her food and drive her to the Breast Center to remove this "bit of cancer." My mother was the epitome of calm. She came home and slept. It took both my sister and I to answer the phone, get her meds, make dinner and watch over our mother. As my sister and I sat down to dinner, exhausted and worn out, our mother got up, heated some soup, washed a dish, took a phone call, watched the news, read the paper, told a few jokes and practically did cartwheels around us. I looked at my sister and said, "I look like I'm the one who had surgery today!" My sister, being the honest gal that she is, said, "Yeah, no kidding!"

Love you Mom...

Now That I'm A Red Head...

. . . I (a red head) was standing on one side of a river. A blond was on the other side. I called across to the blond, "How do you get to the other side of the river?"
She thought for a moment and replied, "You are on the other side of the river."

Hair Salon Code Words - Who Knew?

How many of you knew that "glaze" was code for dye? Seriously? Was I suppose to know that? I guess that women don't want to admit that they dye their hair so they say they got it glazed. Another one of my neighbors was walking her dogs and I said, "I'm sure you're wondering about my hair." She said, "Actually, I haven't once thought of your hair, but now that you mentioned it, it looks shiny." I said, "Rosalie dyed it on me without me knowing it." She said, "You didn't notice she was putting chemicals on your head? Were you in a coma?" "No," I explained, "she said she was going to glaze it to make it shiny and I thought I want shiny hair. I didn't know glaze meant dyed!" She said, "It does look shiny." I told her how I was just being vain and that I would have never dyed my hair red, I would have gone lighter if anything. She said, "It's not red, it's mahogany. Hey, you can always wear a hat." "Or," I said, "join the circus." Hahaha, we chatted about the kids and the dogs and the weather. She said she better go. She said, "Don't worry, your hair will grow and the shellac wears off." "GLAZE, it's glaze; not shellac, not dye, not color; just glaze!" I said, a little excited. Then I apologized. "It's the fumes," I explained, "they have gone to my head."

Vanity

When I got in the car and pulled down my visor and flipped open the mirror, I just could not believe it! I stared dumbfounded at the short-haired, red-head staring back at me. I looked down at the receipt in my hand and blinked twice. $150.00. "What just happened?" I asked the red head. Her only defense, "A moment of vanity." I came home and jumped in the shower, scrubbed my head and looked at the bathroom mirror. The same short-haired, red-head looked back. Only this time she was next to tears. I texted my girls and my husband, "I am going to cry. Rosalie dyed my hair red." My husband texted back, "You can now fulfill your lifelong dream of being a circus clown." I vented to my friend next door. She said, "It's not bad, but your eyebrows don't match." "What!!" I ranted, "I don't dye my hair, I don't pluck or color my eyebrows and my husband wants me to join the circus. I was talked into a few highlights to blend in with the gray and a glaze to make my hair shiny. I thought, I want shiny hair. I am so vain!" I continued, "I realize now that I liked my dull, gray hair. And I liked my $150.00. But because of vanity... a vain pursuit for shiny hair... I have to join the circus to earn money to pay my bills." And because I hadn't yet learned my lesson on vanity, I wondered to myself, Do you think anyone will recognize me with all that clown make-up on?

Less Is More

Letting
Every
Single
Senseless
Item
Stay
Messes
Our
Restful
Environment

Epiphany

During a recent trip out to see our son play baseball (2 & 1/2 hours away), I had an epiphany. (As a side note, my son's roommate said my cookies are 4 million times better than the school's cookies. However, the last time I was there he said the school's cookies are crap. Then, is the first statement actually a compliment?) I was thinking about how women allegedly speak twice as many words per day as men speak. I was thinking it's probably true, but only because men listen to only about half of what women say. So, I say to my husband, as he is driving, "You know, men are stupid. If they listened more intently to what a woman says, the woman wouldn't have to say so much." There was no comment from my husband, so I said, "What do you think about that?" To which he replied, "Think about what?" To which I replied, "About what I just said." To which he replied, "Uh, what did you say? I didn't hear anything after, 'men are stupid' and I didn't think that needed a reply." To which I replied, "My point exactly!" To which he replied, "Huh?" To which I replied, "Case closed!"

He Said, She Heard

He said (from across 2 isles at Block Buster with 6 different movies blasting on 6 different T.V. screens), "Hey, here's a movie you might like."

She heard, "Drop what you're doing and come over here, so you can hear what I am saying, which is obviously much more important than whatever it is you are doing."

He said, "I'm going to Shop Rite to get one of those 70% cocoa bars."

She heard, "Since you gave me a hard time at Block Buster, I'm going to the store without you."

He said, "Do you need anything?"

She heard, "If you need anything, get it yourself."

He said, "It doesn't matter what movie we watch, you pick."

She heard, "If the movie is bad, it's your fault."

He said, "Are you okay?"

She heard, "What in the world is the matter with you tonight!"

He said, "I think you are beautiful and I'll love you forever."

She heard that : )

Dinner Is Served

5:45 p.m. This is what dinner looks like. Spaghetti. Just like grandma makes, or is it...?

5:30 p.m. Dinner is almost ready, this is what it looks like before the red gravy goes on. Spaghetti. Just like grandma makes, or is it...?

4:15 p.m. This will be dinner.

I'm cooking up something, but it ain't grandma's spaghetti. It's spaghetti squash. The dinner plate above contains about 85 calories, 5 grams of protein and 3 grams of fat.

It was yummy and my Italian food loving husband (the good sport he is) ate it.

Eating better and loving it.

: )

Yesterday we received a social security check in the mail for a friend that we handle the finances for. I called our friend and told him that when I opened the envelope containing his check, I accidentally ripped the check in half. I told him that right on the check it says, "Will not be cashed if torn or taped. No new checks will be issued." I told him that this month's money would be lost. He stammered, he gulped, he said, "Tell me again, what happened." I told him again. He stammered some more and asked, "What am I suppose to do now? How am I going to pay my rent? What am I going to live on?" I said, "I don't know. Maybe you can call Social Security and ask them what to do." He gulped again. I said, "Do you want the number?" He said, "Okay. Let me get something to write on. Hold on." When he got back to the phone I said, "Are you ready for the number now?" He said, "Yeah." I said, "Okay, it's 1-800 . . . April Fools." He stammered, he gulped, he hung up.

Wonder Woman

Since Monday I have made 6 dozen gourmet cookies for my son's baseball team, delivered them to their opening game - 2 & 1/2 hours away - watched the whole game in the cold and wind, took pictures and videos of my son's performance; bought a scanner and set it up; scanned video clips and sent them to my son (I sent important documents out for my husband, too, lest you think I would buy a scanner just to send video clips); ministered to a friend; went to a funeral; re-caulked the upstairs bathroom; worked on a story I am trying to publish; battled with the insurance company; ministered to another friend; cleaned my house; helped my daughter work out her summer and fall class schedule; cooked wholesome dinners for me and my husband (we are dieting so I am cooking fresh spinach, asparagus, carrots and peppers everyday - yummy); and went to an advanced Pilates class. It's only Thursday morning! Before the week is over we are going to another baseball game - 3 hours away - I'm making brownies, (a bit of advice: don't bring boys in a military school gourmet cookies, not one of those boys even chewed a cookie, it was more like gulp and swallow, not one of them mentioned the touch of cinnamon, the cranberries or the hint of maple syrup - hmpf); then we're visiting with friends, going to our son's new church and driving 3 hours to come home. The only thing left for me to do this week is solve a crime : )

Life Is Like Coffee

There is an email circulating about how life is like coffee. It matters not what the coffee is served in, it only matters that it is served. The gist is that we should enjoy the coffee whether it's served in fine china or a paper cup. The analogy is that life is like coffee and should be enjoyed whether it's served in something fancy or something plain. On the surface I agree with this. But, when I dig a little deeper I have some thoughts. First, coffee is not a necessity. Some of you will argue, but coffee provides no nutritional benefits. Hence, it's a luxury. So, if you're going to have coffee, why not have it in the best dang mug you can afford. I'm not saying go out and buy a gold goblet to drink your coffee in, but get something you like. They way I figure it, God made us to enjoy fine things. He has told us that the streets in Heaven are paved with gold and the gates are made of pearls. He promises jeweled crowns. God wants us to enjoy fine things. We had a puppy (bad puppy) who lapped up spilled coffee from the ground (after he knocked it over). He would not have enjoyed that coffee any more if it were in a beautiful cup. But, we are not animals, we are humans, made in the image of God, meant to enjoy fine things like sunsets, seasides, mountain views and coffee served in beautiful mugs. Yes, life is like coffee and we should enjoy it no matter how it's served, I just think it's okay to enjoy it more if it's served in something pretty.

Pilates Class

I joined a Pilates class. It's awesome! There are some serious Pilates students in my class. Did you know you can buy Pilates clothing? Yup, pants, tops and undergarment designed to give you a better Pilates workout. Me, I wear my baggy sweats and a baggy T-shirt. You can also buy other accessories for Pilates, like mats, balls, rings, bands and weights, all designed to give you a better workout. I want a better workout. I want to look like my instructor (though my husband says she looks like a man). So, I went to Target with my daughter's friend to buy a Pilates mat. If truth be told, I just don't want to use the gym's mats because not all Pilate students smell very nice and sometimes they leave their smell on the mats - ewww. By the way, if you are ever looking for a Pilates mat, they are in the last isle you would think of looking in. We picked out a nice purple mat (it was on sale). To celebrate the success of my purchase we stopped and got donuts. Powered sugar ones. Did you ever drop a powdered sugar donut in your car? Powdered sugar gets all over EVERYTHING. So, the next time I went to my Pilates class, I sat next to a serious Pilates student with her fancy Pilates gear on. I sat proud on my purple mat that was sprinkled with powdered sugar, wearing my baggy clothes and thought at least I don't smell like nor look like a man : )

Sheesh

There is a new commercial (maybe it's not new, but I watch so little TV, it's new to me) where a young man gets up to go to the bank and realizes he can now deposit his check by taking a photo of it on his phone and sending it to his bank. In less than 30 seconds the task is done. So, now this guy has some time on his hands. He sits back and relaxes in his chair. On the surface this looks like a great thing, right? I'm thinking I've got to get me one of those new fangled phones (okay, I didn't think that nor do I talk like that). But, here's the thing, is it so bad to have to go to the bank? Is it so great that this guy now has all this time on his hands? Is it good that he had no personal interaction at all? I know I would never remember if I ever really deposited a check or not. I mean, I would likely remember if I got in the car and drove to the bank, however, I probably would not remember a task like hitting a few buttons that took less than 30 seconds. Knowing me, I'd end up trying to deposit the same check a dozen times. Then, I may get arrested for bank fraud, leaving my family and friends to fend for themselves, causing heartache and sorrow for all concerned. How is that a good thing? Get off your duff and go to the bank, sheesh!

Spring Fling

Folks in New Jersey have the best weather in the country! We have the fullness of all four seasons; cold and snowy Winters, wet and blooming Springs, hot and humid Summers, cool and crisp Falls. With each season there is something so delightful. The Winter season brings most folks inside to hearth and home with shortened days and bitter cold nights. The Spring brinks folks outside during the day to sweep away debris of Winter and to plant. The Summer keeps folks outside till late at night because of the cooler temperatures of the evening and the light of the late setting sun. Also, gardening in New Jersey (The Garden State - duh) is a great summer New Jersey pastime. The Fall brings relief of the long hot days and keeps our sights on the red, orange and gold foliage. It's funny to me that so many people feel exactly the same way as I do about the weather in New Jersey, yet all I hear is folks waiting on the next season. It seems everybody is in a rush for the next season to begin. If I hear one more person say, "I can't wait till Spring," I may explode. And, no, that wasn't me outside today whispering, "Grow tulips, grow..."

Abounding!

Philippians 4:11-13 "Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

For me, these verses speak to the heart of Christian living. To listen to the world-view today, the goal in life is to be completely satisfied physically, financially and emotionally. To seek and enjoy many riches. To fill our gluttonous selves to the brim and then just a little bit more. Some of you are nodding in agreement thinking, it's the "just a little bit more" that gets us in trouble. But that's not really the truth behind our dissatisfaction. If we know Christ, we are already abundantly rich! When our circumstances stink, Paul tells us that Christ can and will strengthen us. The knowledge of knowing that, even in bad situations, in times of trouble and need, we have the strength of Christ in us to accomplish all things, is the kind of contentment that every worldly thing is empty of. In other words, what the world has to offer is void of soul satisfying joy. But what Christ has to offer is teeming with unspeakable joys. These verses to me are saying a life adapted to the world is lacking (abased), but a life adapted to Christ is rich (abounding).

Shhhh - It's a Secret

How dumb are we? Wait, don't answer that. I was at the check-out line in the supermarket and started browsing the magazine rack. Each magazine had the word Secret on the front cover. The Secret Live of Celebrities, The Secret To Losing 10 Pounds, The Secret To An Uncluttered Life, The Secret Dual-Life of The Stars, The Design Secret You Need To Know, The Health Secret You Need To Know, The Diet Secret You Need To Know. . . and so on. Don't these magazine editors realize that once they divulge all those secrets, we won't need to buy any more magazines? And really, are these things really secrets? I know all these "secrets" and a few they forgot to mention. Celebrities are messed up; if you eat less you'll lose weight; if you throw stuff away and stop buying new stuff, you'll uncluttered your life; TV personalities live differently than their TV characters; when decorating remember that less is more and (drum roll). . . the big design secret - window treatments (I have to admit I peeked at that one); if you walk more each day you'll be healthier; and if you drink more water while dieting you will lose more weight because you are filling your stomach and flushing out toxins and fat. Hey, maybe I should write a magazine. Would you pay $4.95 for 10 pages of ranting . . . I mean advice?

Empty-Nest

I now know how the term empty-nest really came to be. Empty-nest syndrome is a phrase that was coined by someone to describe the feelings parents feel when their children fly away from the nest, or in other words, leave home. But I have a new understanding of empty-nest. For me, it is an opportunity to empty the nest of all the stuff my kids were holding on to. Heh-heh-heh. No one is here to stop me from throwing out old sneakers and T-shirts and games and toys and empty photo frames with broken glass and old books. My daughter even had a plastic container that was labeled, "Odd game pieces". Guess what folks, I am emptying my nest and it feels pretty good! Good-bye odd game pieces, heck, good-bye odd games. Does anyone really ever play Old Maid? And, not for nothing, but I never liked Candy Land or Shoots and Ladders. Can you say, "boring"? I used to pay the babysitters to play those games with my kids. Now, don't think that I don't miss the little birdies, because Lord knows I do. It's just that it's easier to keep the old nest neat without all the clutter. Less is more. Can I get an Amen? And when the little birds come home, I better not hear a peep out of them over this. . .

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

This is from my daughter's Italy blog. It sounds like something that would happen to me :)

Written by daughter #1:

So let me set the scene for this picture . . . We get dropped off in Verona pretty much right in front of the huge arena (which looks exactly like a smaller version of the Colosseum), where there are multiple characters dressed up in the streets, like angels, pharaohs, and Roman soldiers, who people take pictures with and then are guilted into paying. The boys see the Roman soldiers with their massive pretend swords and armor and recruit me to take pictures for them. They act super dramatic, choking the soldiers and having sword fights and pretending to have their heads chopped off. Then they say to me, "Hey, you go take a picture with them, it will be funny!" and I think, "Why not? I want to have a sword fight too!" But as I walk over I realize that the soldiers do not want to have a sword fight with a young American girl, they want to hug her and kiss her hand and wink at her and make suggestive faces and generally be rude Italian men. And the boys, of course, think that this is hysterical and snap lots of pictures and do nothing to rescue me from the clutches of the lewd Roman soldiers. Hmpf

I Want Details & Hugs

So, my husband took a surprise trip to our son's Military school to see his last home basketball game. I was nervous about how it would go. It seems funny to me that I would be nervous for father and son to see each other considering they have had a wonderful relationship the boy's whole life. But, dads are different than moms. Moms ask questions like, "How do you feel?", "Do you have enough pairs of underwear?", "Is the food good, like mine, I mean, does it taste good?", "Are you getting enough sleep?" Men on the other hand say, "Hello," and basically, that's it. What would they talk about without me? Would my husband find out the important stuff - you know, about the food and the underwear? Would my son offer any information if it weren't asked directly? I debated on giving my husband a list of questions to ask, written on a little white index card. I decided against that. So, when my husband called me 3 hours after he left, at half-time, I asked, anxiously, "How is he? Did he lose any weight? Did he grow? Does he need underwear?" My husband responded in his usual dry manner, "Which question should I answer first?" "Augh, just tell me if he was happy to see you?" "Yes," he said, "he came right over and shook my hand." "Shook your hand!?" I fumed. "Yes, sweetheart, that's what boys in Military school do." And that was about all the details I got. I think I'll go to Wal-Mart tomorrow and get some underwear . . . just in case.

Unexpected Blessings - In The Midst

So, two weeks ago we sent our 16 year old son to Military School. The school is about 3 hours from home. It was (is) a good decision. He has so many opportunities there and this could be the best time of his life. A way for him to cement the future he has always planned for himself. With that being said, it was a very difficult decision and a very sad good-bye. It was never our intention to have our son away from home before college, nor did we expect to be empty-nesters yet. However, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry (whatever that really means). So, the day after my husband and I were officially empty-nesters, we got a phone call for my husband to teach a class in Florida for two days. Guess what? We were both free. We made reservations, packed, hopped on a plane, arrived to 75 degree weather, had dinner with our sweet daughter (which went by way too fast - miss you honey), walked the beach, sun bathed, drove to Tampa, my husband had paying work, we met Indian Lake Papa and Mama for dinner (which also went by way too fast), a little more work and now we're heading home. I am humbled by the continuous provisions from God . . . the unexpected blessings . . . in the midst of this life - adapted.

Cat Adoption Highlights (is lowlights a word?)

For sure, this cat adoption project has been interesting. I made a commitment and you all know what our mamas taught us about commitments, you follow them through. Can't you just hear your mama's voice? "Well, you shouldn't have said yes if you weren't sure, but since you did, you have to see it through." Augh! yes, mommy. Here are a few highlights from my "commitment."
- I sorely failed at witnessing Christ to 2 people I knew needed it
- I began witnessing to Sylvia, but she and her husband are already believers, in fact, they adopted a cat with a fatal illness because of their Christ like spirit
- I should have witnessed to my co-workers because at least 3 of them took credit for cats that I adopted and thus stole my commission
- I complained because the shelter gave me the ugliest, oldest, fattest cat they had to show at an adoption. This cat, "Beefy," had jaw surgery so his mouth doesn't close, he has a runny eye, he's 15 and he sat in the corner of the crate shaking with fear
- I almost talked this man into adopting Beefy, but then he told me how his wife died, then his dog died and he wasn't sure he was ready yet. They died 15 years ago. I told him he wasn't ready for Beefy.
- I cried with a woman who had just dropped off her son at Basic Training and promised to pray for him, Joe
- I talked to a woman who lost her husband to cancer a few months ago. She has 9 cats and each one has a "unique" story (unique meaning very long), I listened to every story
- And the final insult, I asked my husband to come with me (which he did) and he got a man who wants to meet him at the shelter to look at cats together - go figure!
Mommy, can I quit yet?

Ciao Little Bird

After a very long ordeal, my bird got to her new nest away from home - Italy! She proved herself a strong and able traveler. When one route was closed, she flew another one. She did it all by herself, just like she's been begging to do since she was 2. I can hear her little high pitched, stuttering voice in my head, "M-m-m-mommy, me do!" She's always been determined to do things on her own, in her own way. When she was 5 she didn't like to be watched when she painted. So one morning she got up really early and painted a picture. I got up to find she had dragged a chair to the sink so she could wash the brushes. The first thing I noticed was how precariously she was standing on the chair over the sink, then I noticed the spilled paint, then I noticed she hadn't put on her smock so her clothes were covered in washable (not) paint, then I noticed the paint in her hair. And just before I could speak, I noticed the picture she painted, a girl and her mother picking flowers. Finally, I noticed, above all, was that my little bird was grinning from ear to ear, proud of her accomplishment, awaiting my applause. "Good job, honey," I said, in my best motherese, smiling, resisting the urge to clean up for her, "I'm going back to bed. Wake me up when you're all done." And so, 16 years later when she got delayed and stuck at the airport and she re-routed her flight, I said to her, "Good job, honey. I'm going back to bed. Call me when you're all done." To myself, I said, "Ciao little bird."

Fly Safe

The little birdie is flying away from the nest. She's been doing it for years, but I think one wing was clipped because she couldn't get very far. I hope her wings are strong because they must get her all the way to Italy! Yup, my baby (daughter #1) is going to Italy tomorrow for three months! I couldn't be more proud of her. She's stepping outside of her comfort zone and going to another country to study and evangelize. It's something she's always wanted to do and when this opportunity came up, she grabbed it. For two and a half years at college she has worked hard and made good connections, and that work is paying off. She is one of one going from her school to Italy. She's a pioneer, a trailblazer, a pilgrim, a trendsetter, a pacesetter . . . a little bird flying off. Did I mention I was proud of her? A new and exciting adventure awaits her in the land of her ancestors. And she won't just fly away from the nest . . . she'll soar. This I know because she seeks God in all she does and God promises this:
". . . those who wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary.
They shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31
God bless you, honey and fly safe.

Cat Adoptions? Part IV

There are one hundred cats at the shelter in need of homes. Our wealthy benefactor wants to see each one adopted. He is paying a fee to each person who adopts out a cat, plus he's giving each new cat owner a 2 month supply of free litter and food. I now see this as a double opportunity. A way to make some money (I almost said extra money but that would imply I had money already) and an opportunity to share Jesus. You know how my first attempt turned out. . . So, I was bound and determined that I would not let my next chance slip away. I was going to share the good news of Jesus with the very next person who wanted to adopt a cat. This very gruff sounding man answered an ad I placed and he agreed to meet me at the shelter. He showed up on his motorcycle (clue #1 he really didn't intend to take a cat home, they don't even make helmets that small) and wanted to see only tiny, black kittens with white paws (clue #2) and wanted the free food and litter before he adopted a cat (clue #3). Even still, I prayed for an opportunity or an opening to say, "Hey, do you want to know about Jesus?" but the skull and cross bones on his T-shirt and his leather jacket and his motorcycle intimidated me. When he left, I prayed he wouldn't crash on the way home. BUT, I said to myself, "Self, be encouraged, there will be more opportunities," and don't you know when I got home, the answering machine was blinking . . .

Conversation With Husband Re: Christmas Decorations

Husband: "What are you doing this afternoon?"
Me: "Taking down the Christmas decorations."
Him: "Oh, don't. I love the Christmas decorations, leave them out for a while longer please."
Me: "If they stay out longer, they'll need to be dusted. I'd rather put them away so I don't have to dust them. Of course, if you really want them out longer, you are free to dust them."
Him: "No, you can put them away."
Me: "Gee, thanks..."