Life Adapted

OMG, BU&M, KASD

2012-02-10T16:09:00.003-05:00

I think it is so funny that the youth of our society think they are smarter than the adults because they have mastered a lesser form of communication. Texting is not a higher form of communication that eludes adults, rather, it is a lesser form that we choose not to waste our precious time mastering. It's like mastering kindergarten when you are 52 years old. Why bother? I like my superior communication skills. I like that I know how to express myself in words and not symbols or emoticons. I think our youth would be better served learning how to spell than how to abbreviate. My son told me I was a weird texter and below is the response I sent to him, to which he replied, "that made no sense, but okay mom"
To son: "Just because our society has raised a bunch of non-communicative teenagers who think all emotions need to be or can be expressed with cute emoticons, does not mean I am a weird texter. I try to express myself using syllable accents as if I were actually conversing with someone. On the contrary, simply by saying I am a weird texter, you are showing your lack of proper social skills by saying whatever comes into your wittle head." (For those of you who have not mastered abbreviations, my title is "Oh My Gosh, Between You And Me, Kids Are So Dumb.)

You Gotta' Make It Hurt

2012-01-26T12:31:00.006-05:00

I held a book club with the women I work with. These dear women are so fun. The book was Tuck Everlasting. It's about a family that accidentally drinks from a spring that gives everlasting life. You may think this is a blessing, especially if you are 17 year old Jesse. However, is it a blessing for Mae and Tuck? Read the book and find out : ) Anyway, our talk of 17 year old Jesse led to a discussion about my son. We talked about 17 year old boys being impulsive and living in the moment, anything beyond 30 seconds in the future is out of their grasp. "Ma, can I ski off the roof with my snow board?", he'd ask. Imagine if he could live forever what he would do! Is it any wonder my hair is grey?! My son bought a car, a red mustang, V8, 5 speed, and has been working on it for 5 months. He's been itching to drive it on his own. He got his license on a Thursday. On Friday, less than 24 hours later, my husband and I took his license away. Yes, we are the meanest parents alive. I told the women, "You gotta' make it hurt. They don't learn otherwise." They agreed. So, when I suspended his cell phone service today, I told the customer service operator, "You gotta' make it hurt." He agreed. Like Mae Tuck, I could live forever happily, but parenting forever . . . now that would hurt.

Send Me A Caption

2012-01-21T11:04:00.003-05:00

Washington "Tebowing"

2012-01-15T21:41:00.000-05:00

Look Up

2012-01-11T16:14:00.009-05:00

So, I have sat back and heard the news stories about Tim Tebow. I have heard some pretty sweet things about the guy and his faith. I have also heard some pretty harsh things about weather or not God cares about a football game. Even some Christians are saying that God does not care about football. But, why wouldn't God care? If we, mere humans, care enough to cheer our children on at competitive events (music, sports, debates, etc.), why wouldn't God, who is the ultimate Father, care about a football game. “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone?" Matthew 7:9 If Tim Tebow asked for a completed pass, why would God give him a stone instead? A request was made by a child of God (Tebow) who has been obedient to his Father (God) and His Father granted that request. If a quarterback who has been disobedient to God, asked for a completed pass, God may not be as likely to grant that request. Does God care about football? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: you are of more value than many sparrows. Luke 12:7 If God cares for the sparrows, will He not care for humans even more? I think so. How does God show Himself to us? Through the answering of our prayers, through signs and wonders and miracles. Was Tebow's win a miracle? Not really, but it sure makes us look up, doesn't it?

One Step Forward, Two Steps Backward, Three Steps Sideways

2012-01-08T14:18:00.002-05:00

As most of you know, I have worked for my husband for 23 years at our home office, 10 of those years I also homeschooled the kids. Then business got slow and the kids grew up (in spite of my constant protest), so I got a part-time job. One step forward. It was the perfect job. I used all my organization skills and parenting skills to minister to 12 dear women who are searching for Christ in an effort to be healed from addiction. I fell in love with each and every women. I felt honored to be there. What I did not know (as I was not told) was that the job required me to counsel the women, teach the classes, attend and record the staff meetings, attend the clinicals, work on holidays, write daily, weekly and monthly reports and evaluations, and supply all my own materials for part-time wages. Because of my love for the women, I did all that was expected of me at work (and very well I may add), plus cooked dinner, helped out in our home office, taxied the boy to and fro, cared for the puppy and then proceeded to get very sick. Two steps backward. So, I quit the job and took on more hours at our home office. I now volunteer my time with the women (the perfect solution), am working on a writing project and took on some hours at the local health food store. Three steps sideways. Where I'll end up, nobody knows!

A Boy And His Wisdom

2012-01-05T14:18:00.006-05:00

The boy was in pain. It's not unusual for something on his body to be hurting since he does everything hard. But this was not an ordinary pain. The whole side of his face hurt. I took him to the dentist and an x-ray revealed an extra tooth growing way back in his jaw behind his wisdom tooth. Off to the oral surgeon this morning we went. Upon further x-rays (and more money) it was determined we had some options. He could remove the upper wisdom tooth to let the little tooth grow, but that would mean removing the lower wisdom tooth so that his bite would not be compromised. This option would only require a few well placed shots of novocain. The other option, surgically remove the extra tooth. This requires general anesthesia, drilling the bone, more risks and of course, more money. The doctor asked what I thought. "Well," I said, "he doesn't actually chew his food anyway, I mean, it's more like gulp and swallow. But on the other hand, removing wisdom from a boy who lacks is never wise (heehee)." Totally not amused by my humor, I asked what he, the surgeon, the one who went to medical school, thought. I might have guessed he chose the option that separated me from the most money. While the boy was coming out of anesthesia I asked, "What is your phone password and do you really like this new girl?" He laughed and asked, "Ma, how much drugs do you think they gave me?" "I see," I said, "they kept your wisdom intact."

Happy New Year!!

2012-01-01T12:34:00.006-05:00

Sunday morning, January 1st, my family sat down to eat breakfast. I took out my pen and pad and began to write out New Year's Resolution guidelines. They are as follows:
1. No resolution shall be based on vanity.
2. Honor God with your new commitments.
3. Does your resolution please God or man?
4. Will your resolution move your relationship with God to a higher level?
5. Must be an alliteration (optional).

Our resolutions:

Mom's:
Peace, Patience and Performance (as in spiritual discipline tasks)
Dad's:
Perseverance, Patience and Philanthropy (as in generosity of gestures as well as resources)
Daughter number 1:
Finish Strong, Faith Soars
Daughter number 2:
Memorization, Meditation, Ministering and Mobilization
AND Ring by Spring (as in haha)
Son's:
Pick-up Puppy Poop
AND Muscles by March (as in honoring God with his body in baseball)
The puppy's:
Chill with the Chewing (as in stop chewing up mom's stuff!)

Finally, family resolutions:
Kick the kisses (as in chocolate)
Trash the Technology (as in cell phone/computer/TV/head-phones while together)
Family, Faith, Fun and Fellowship (as in Happy New Year folks)!

Resolved

2011-12-30T12:11:00.004-05:00

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

2011-12-27T11:39:00.004-05:00

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...

2011-10-14T15:04:00.006-04:00

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

2011-10-06T20:11:00.005-04:00

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

2011-10-02T14:33:00.003-04:00

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

2011-09-18T13:19:00.006-04:00

..."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

2011-09-14T21:14:00.005-04:00

..."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

2011-09-12T19:06:00.005-04:00

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

2011-09-07T14:52:00.006-04:00

"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...

2011-09-04T17:31:00.001-04:00

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

2011-09-02T16:52:00.004-04:00

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

2011-07-22T20:16:00.008-04:00

... 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

2011-07-22T13:33:00.004-04:00

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

2011-07-18T15:22:00.006-04:00

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

2011-07-11T14:35:00.004-04:00

. . . 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

2011-07-08T13:50:00.003-04:00

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

2011-07-02T12:39:00.007-04:00

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

2011-06-29T11:57:00.005-04:00

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

2011-06-23T16:15:00.007-04:00

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

Since You Asked, Parsley

2011-06-23T15:33:00.000-04:00

Isn't It Great?

2011-06-22T12:20:00.002-04:00

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

2011-06-12T19:25:00.005-04:00

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.

Mother's Day Poem From Daughter :)

2011-05-24T13:02:00.004-04:00

Mother I love you

Although this is late

I hope you still love me

I can't handle hate

When God made me

I'm sure that He knew

I'd need a special mother

As patient as you

I'd need someone who'd listen

To me talk for endless hours

And who wouldn't get angry

When I used all the hot water in the shower

I'd need someone who'd deal

With my stubborn and strong will

Who would welcome all my questions

And who would love me still

I'd need someone who liked

To laugh and smile lots

And who would think my jokes are funny

When clearly they are not

So that's why God picked you

To take on such a chore

He knew that you would like it

And that you'd love me even more

(collective awwwwwwwwww)

Mom

2011-05-16T18:56:00.004-04:00

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...

2011-05-02T16:52:00.002-04:00

. . . 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?

2011-05-01T16:34:00.003-04:00

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

2011-04-30T15:32:00.002-04:00

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

2011-04-27T08:30:00.004-04:00

Letting
Every
Single
Senseless
Item
Stay
Messes
Our
Restful
Environment

Epiphany

2011-04-18T21:15:00.004-04:00

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

2011-04-10T15:54:00.009-04:00

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

2011-04-06T12:15:00.005-04:00

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.

: )

2011-04-02T13:37:00.004-04:00

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

2011-03-31T12:05:00.004-04:00

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

2011-03-25T20:50:00.005-04:00

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

2011-03-19T15:57:00.003-04:00

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

2011-03-17T17:12:00.002-04:00

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

2011-03-08T15:16:00.007-05:00

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!

2011-03-05T13:09:00.005-05:00

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

2011-02-28T11:25:00.002-05:00

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

2011-02-26T17:14:00.003-05:00

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

2011-02-19T18:53:00.004-05:00

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

2011-02-18T18:13:00.004-05:00

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

2011-02-11T14:40:00.005-05:00

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?)

2011-02-09T10:31:00.003-05:00

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

2011-02-02T15:59:00.005-05:00

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

2011-01-26T10:02:00.006-05:00

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

2011-01-19T19:27:00.004-05:00

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

2011-01-07T22:03:00.002-05:00

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..."

America Resolved

2010-12-31T19:50:00.005-05:00

I am fond of New Year's resolutions. I feel that we all have a thing or two we could resolve to do better. I am so fond of resolutions that I often assign resolutions to others. I once asked a friend if she would honor my resolution for her before I told her what the resolution was. She said, "Yes." I said, "Okay. Resolve to work on your marriage." She said, "Grrrrrr." But she did and that was a good thing. I have been thinking that there are few things that our country can improve on. So America, listen up. This is your short list (long list to follow).
1. Resolve to give the children back their childhood. Turn off the electronics and send the kids outside to play. Someone said to me once, "Young kids need to learn how to use electronics so they don't fall behind." I asked, "Fall behind what?" I learned how to use a computer when I was in my twenties and believe it or not, even at that old age, I took to it pretty quickly. I have never thought at the end of a day, "I wish I had spent more time on my computer." However, many times I have thought, "I wish I had gotten outside more."
2. Resolve to censorship. Yes, folks, zip the lip. I am actually censoring myself right now. Censor all unholy language, images, thoughts, music and activities. Train yourself to restrain yourself.
3. Resolve to practice kindness. I'm not talking "random acts of kindness," I'm talking purposeful acts of kindness. Think to yourself, "What kind thing can I do for someone on purpose today?"
4. Resolve to be a good citizen. Wake up America! Why should God Bless America if we're not being good citizens?
And finally, an alliteration,
5. Resolve to practice prayer, patience and peace. Praying for others teaches us to be tender hearted, grateful and humble. Patience teaches us to be. . . well, patient for those we pray for. And peace flows from prayer and patience which makes practicing peace a good practice.

Happy New Year!

Family's Gift OR Where Are The Caches?

2010-12-29T15:55:00.005-05:00

Geocaching (pronounced geo-cashing) is finding treasures (or caches) hidden outdoors by using a GPS device. The caches are hidden in public places outdoors and then their location is published on the Internet. You plug in the location on your GPS and then your treasure hunting begins. Some caches are camouflaged, some hung in trees, some buried in brush, some hidden in logs. So far we have found 3 caches. After you find the cache, you write your name and the date on the log in the cache container and if there is a treasure, you may take it, providing you leave behind another treasure in it's place for the next seekers to find. And, NO, you may not leave one of your children behind as a treasure for someone else to find, tempting as that may sound, it just wouldn't be right! . . . right . . .?

Our Gift OR Where Are The Tissues?

2010-12-27T16:29:00.006-05:00

Need I say anything more?

Husband's Gift OR Where Are The Bandaids?

2010-12-26T22:57:00.008-05:00

Can you guess what I got my husband for Christmas??

Below is a clue. . .

Need I say anything more?

MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL!!

Cat Adoptions? Part III

2010-12-22T13:22:00.007-05:00

My daughter asked me once, "Mom, how do you go from talking about peppers to telling people about Jesus?" I laughed because I'm not a good witness. I say stupid things that I wish I hadn't. I think of all the clever things I should have said as I watch the person walk away. I'm not that witty on the spot. But, at a predestined meeting, I was convinced, I would be a fabulous witness! It's just that it is so rare that we have a foreknowledge of being able to share Jesus with someone. After my first conversation with Debbie I knew I wanted to share the good news of Jesus with her. I told my husband and my children, "I just want to share Jesus with her!" I told Debbie over the phone, "I have the perfect cat for you and I can't wait to meet you." She said, "I'm not sure about the cat." I said, "It's okay," but I was thinking, "Who cares about the cat!" I met Debbie at the shelter and she said, "I don't think I'm going to like this cat." I said, "That's fine, but let's go meet her." I had my Jesus speech ready and rehearsed. I introduced Debbie to Buffy and there was an instant, mutual love. From that moment on I may as well have disappeared because to Debbie, only Buffy existed. I managed to say, while I was leaving, that I believed God intended for her, Buffy and I to meet. If she heard me at all I wouldn't know because she said nothing, not even good-bye. Do you think the story will end here?

Cat Adoptions? Part II

2010-12-20T14:16:00.006-05:00

. . . the phone rang, it was Debbie. She answered an ad I had placed and was interested in adopting a cat. The local animal shelter has a wealthy benefactor who is paying folks to adopt out "hard to place" cats. Ironically, we just tried to foster a "hard to place" 15 year old boy, but that went terrifically bad. Maybe I thought I would have better results with cats. I placed a clever, quirky ad and I wasn't at all surprised when I received my first call. I was, however, still surprised over my involvement in this project. Yes, there is a financial gain for me, and yes, I love the thought of finding loving homes for hard to place cats, and yes, I love a challenge, but my life is busy and complicated and full - who needs one more thing to do? My first call with Debbie went just about as you would expect. I answered all her questions and I asked a few of my own. She said she would think about it and call me back. And call me back she did . . . 5 times! Each time I spoke to her she revealed a little more about herself and her life. Each time I spoke to her I cared less about the cat and the fee I would get and more about her. My husband said, "Congratulations, it looks like you'll adopt your first cat!" I said, "I don't care if she takes a cat or not, I just want to tell her about Jesus." And there it was . . . the purpose I had been wondering about. Isn't it just like God to use one lonely lady, one stray cat and one unsuspecting soul to work out His purpose? . . . to be continued . . .

Cat Adoptions? Part I

2010-12-18T08:51:00.004-05:00

Since I have a history helping cats it was no big surprise for the shelter or some of my old friends to hear I am adopting out shelter cats. But it was a surprise for me. I see myself as more of a people person and not an animal person. My husband and I fostered kittens for over a year when we first moved into our house 24 years ago. The room that is now my 21 year old daughter's room used to be the kitten room. We would take in kittens while they were waiting to be adopted and care for them. The reason we (I) agreed to do it was because the very first two ladies who befriended me when we moved here were animal people and I loved them (I still do). It was their cause and I wanted to support my new friends in their life's work. Not having any causes of my own at that moment and being new to the area and having a new husband who readily agreed to whatever his kooky wife wanted, we gladly took in stray kittens and took care of them. I love all my animal people friends because without them the world would be a very sad place. Ever since we stopped fostering kittens we have spent the rest of the 24 years in our house ministering to people. So, it was kind of a surprise that I agreed to adopt out shelter cats, until, that is, the phone rang... to be continued...

Purrfect!

2010-12-16T19:39:00.006-05:00

I have just agreed to help adopt out cats from a local no-kill shelter. I don't personally fully agree with no-kill shelters in all cases. There are some cats that have been in this shelter since 2004. Sadly, they will likely still be there in 2014. Is this humane? I don't know. However, if I can help adopt out some of these cats by the end of this year, I will feel like I have done some good. I went to a meeting to get the details of how I could help. A local pet supply store has agreed to let us bring some cats there. We can set up 6 cages there for 4 hours a day, Friday through Sunday, for the next 3 weeks. Someone was concerned about bad weather and asked what we should plan to do in case of rain or snow. The person organizing the adoption said, "Oh, that wouldn't be humane to be outside for that long!" To which I responded with a hearty, "Thank you!" To which she responded in a slightly haughty manner, "I meant, (long pause) it wouldn't be humane for the cats!" To which I responded, "Heck, they're the ones with the fur!" In spite of that, I am scheduled to work tomorrow and Saturday. Which is purrfectly alright with me.

My New Curling Iron

2010-11-30T15:32:00.002-05:00

I just had to post this. I bought a new curling iron, a vain but necessary purchase for us gals with thin hair. I read the WARNINGS listed under IMPORTANT SAFETY INSTRUCTIONS and thought I'd share some of them with you. Just in case you don't read the warning labels, I wouldn't want any of you to risk electrocution or injury by using a curling iron in the wrong way.

First it states that most electrical appliances are electrically live.
DO NOT use while bathing.
Never use while sleeping.
DO NOT let eyes touch heated surfaces.
And, finally,
Never drop or insert any object into any opening.

There you have it. I hope you were as amused as I was : )

My Favorite Things - Part III

2010-11-29T14:12:00.005-05:00

. . . I have to admit that when I started writing My Favorite Things, I didn't know where it would end. It's like that with most things I write about. I start with an idea or in this case, an irritation, and then I quickly type out my thoughts. I pause, pray for words and do a quick re-write. If it is entertaining or meaningful in any way, it's because God heard and answered my prayers. I prayed about what my favorite things really, truly were. I came up with some very poetic things to say but realized I was trying so hard to be poetic and deep that I wasn't being quite authentic. When it came right down to it, my favorite things surprised me. And even a bigger surprise to me was that I wasn't lying when I claimed to not love possessions. My favorite thing ever . . . much to my own surprise . . . is to . . . travel with my family. Yes, Miss Travel Anxiety USA has at the top of her list, travel. Yellowstone, San Francisco, Pacifica, Monteray, Great Falls, WallaWalla, West Palm Beach, Laguna and Mt. Rushmore are the top things that I carry around in my heart as my favorite things. As I say each city I can picture in my minds eye, me and my family in that city, laughing, pointing, sitting, eating . . . living life in abundance . . . enjoying the mountains or ocean, the sunrise or the sunset, the desert or the forest. Life is indeed good. If you bothered to count, you'd see I named only 9 cities. I reserved the last thing on my list of 10 favorite things as a new purple dress. I love that dress, but even more, I love the ladies who loved me enough to tell me I needed a new dress and then took me shopping to find one. Thanks gals.

My Favorite Things - Part II

2010-11-23T22:10:00.000-05:00

. . . My favorite things are things that I hold in my heart, not my hands. Some of them are just feelings from memories of special events. Where do we hold our feelings? Science tells us we hold them in our brains, but I feel them in my heart, in the deepest part of me that cannot be touched by hands. In a spot that I can't pin point, but I know is there. It's a spot that Oprah cannot satisfy with iPads or expensive croissants. My favorite things are certainly things that glitter and shine, but in a way that fill my insides with warmth and love and joy. In all fairness to Oprah, her show was about her favorite material things and I do have some favorite material things, but would they make an audience full of people cry? I don't think so. Would a bunch of people cry over a blurry photo or an antique clock or a children's story book? I feel sad for the cheap thrill Oprah's show gave. I say cheap, not as in inexpensive, but as in no lasting value. I guess that's the part the bothered me the most. It was how thrilled everyone was over the material things that Oprah gave them. We are suppose to be gracious when we receive a gift, but to jump up and down and cry over a computer? How long do you think that thrill will last? An hour? A week? For the rest of my life I will remember my 42nd birthday at Yellowstone National Park along the trail that leads to the Upper Falls. I will always think of it when I smell pine. And, if I let myself, I will cry for the joy of the memory. That's one of my favorite things. My favorite other things are . . . to be continued . . .

My Favorite Things - Part I

2010-11-22T16:36:00.006-05:00

I sat down today at 4:00 to rest my back and I turned on the television. Oprah was doing her "Oprah's Favorite Things" show. I have to say, it made me feel a little bit sick inside when I saw the audience crying over an iPad touch computer, glitter Ugg boots and a Coach purse. I don't begrudge anyone of having favorite things, but an emotional attachment to a computer that would bring on tears? I don't know . . . it made me feel sick. I cried when my husband gave me a diamond tennis bracelet for our 25th wedding anniversary. And yes, I do love that thing. But I have an emotional attachment to it because my husband of 25 years gave it to me. If Oprah gave it to me, it would just be metal and stones. And honestly, as much as I love that bracelet, it wouldn't make the top 10 list of my favorite things. But it would certainly make the top 10 list of the most expensive things I own. What value would a diamond bracelet be to me if I didn't have the husband who gave it to me? Things are worthless. To quote The Little Prince, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” And to quote Jesus, "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." The things I love the most, my favorite things, you just can't put into a package and tie a bow around . . . to be continued . . .

The Photo Contest

2010-11-19T09:06:00.010-05:00

I entered this photo in a local photo contest. It's my "Look Who's Eating My Parsley" photo. The contest is a small contest and the amateur division has a 1st Place, 2nd Place, 3rd Place and 2 Honorable Mention Prizes. With five winning spots I thought I had a chance, maybe an honorable mention. I had such positive feedback from my friends - but not my kids. They said, "Ewwww, Mom, it's gross." Did I heed their words? No. I only heard what my itching ears wanted to hear. So, I submitted my photo with confidence.

This photo, "Peaceful Autumn Path" was submitted by son in the student division. It's the fourth year he's submitted a photo for this contest. The first and second year he won 1st Place. The third year, 2nd Place and this year . . . he won 3rd Place. There is a cash award for each place. When the phone call came in, I anxiously waited to hear how my photo fared. She said, "Your son has won 3rd Place this year. It's always a pleasure to see his work. He has a great talent . . . blah, blah, blah . . . we'll send his prize voucher out today." What about me and my caterpillar photo? I looked up the winners on the website. No mention, not even honorable, of me or my photo. Boohoo. When the local paper came out and the contest winners were named I unenthusiastically looked for my son's name. Much to my surprise, while scanning the article I saw my name! Not only did I not win the contest (not even an honorable mention) but my name was listed in the paper among "other participants." In other words, losers. No honorable mention for me . . . just LOSER!

Happy 21st Birthday First Born

2010-11-17T18:46:00.003-05:00

My daughter came home last weekend and saw the boy across the street who she used to babysit for and who is now in the 4th grade. She turned to me and said, "Wow, look how big he is. I'm OLD!" Sheesh! She's old?! Imagine how I feel when I see her? I remember the day I found out I was pregnant with her. In those days, you went to the doctor to get such news (on a horse and buggy). I remember exactly how I told my husband, her father; it was one of the happiest days of our lives. I remember the first time I felt her move inside of me. I remember falling in love with her. I remember her first breath, her first cry, her first tooth, her first steps, her first birthday, her first word (it was "Boz", our cat. By the way, don't most kids say Ma or Da first?), her first lie (I told her if she was lying her tongue would turn blue. She ran to the mirror and looked at her tongue and said, "It doesn't work, my tongue's not blue!" I told her only mother's could see and she said, "If you're lying Mommy, will your tongue turn blue?" I knew then I was in trouble.), her first day of school, her first day of summer vacation, her first friend, her first art contest (First Prize - yippee) and so on. So, it's only natural that I want to be the first to wish her a happy twenty-first birthday. Happy Birthday Honey! I love you, I have loved you the longest because you are my first born.

2010-11-14T14:08:00.002-05:00

"For you shall go out with joy,

And be led out with peace;

The Mountains and the hills

Shall break forth into singing before you,

And all the trees of the field shall

clap their hands." Isaiah 55:12

Trolls

2010-11-04T20:30:00.005-04:00

When my kids were little I made sure that they were exposed only to the nicest things. Good books, good toys, good movies and good people. Stories about puppies and ponies abounded. I never cursed and never let anyone around them curse. I screened everything that came into their little worlds and made sure that only the best entered their spheres. We watched Mary Poppins and Richard Scary. We sang Lullabies and Christmas songs. So imagine my surprise when my children asked me why people beep their horns when they go through tunnels and I responded in a feign scared voice, "It's to scare away the trolls." "W-w-what are trolls?" asked they. And again, much to my surprise, I said, "They are little mean creatures with runny eyes and boogers hanging from their noses. They drool and try to make you pay a toll when you go through the tunnel. If you don't pay the toll they don't let you go. That's why everyone beeps their horns, they hope to scare away the trolls. Should I beep my horn?" "B-B-BEEP MOMMY, BEEP YOUR HORN! HURRY!" they stammered and yelled. I don't know why, but when I think about it I don't even feel a little bad. In fact, it makes me laugh. :-D
Does that make me mean?

A Time Gone By

2010-10-27T16:11:00.002-04:00

With the passing of Barbara Billingsley, more famously known as June Cleaver, I feel like a precious gift has passed too. A time has gone by. A time when mothers were usually found in the kitchen chopping vegetables or baking a cake and whipping up icing. A time when women wore dresses and fussed over the pillows on the window seat. A time when breakfast was eaten together at a reasonable time in the kitchen and dinner was eaten together while dad departed pearls of wisdom on his children at the dining room table. A time when gossip was frowned upon, lying was punished, promiscuity was discouraged and cheating was offensive. A time when romance happened slowly over many dates. A time when little boys played in trees and parks and dirt and mud and little girls played with dolls and swings and bicycles. A time when church was the focus of the week and the Sunday School lesson was talked about in school. A time when American heroes were the highlight of the evening news. A time when the television went to test patterns after the late show and New York City slept. I find myself longing for that time gone by. Wishing for a slower pace and a peace of mind that comes from having a house in order and a family that is close by and connected. Progress . . .

Triple Blessing OR Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

2010-10-13T18:47:00.004-04:00

Sometimes we lament over the troubles of our life and we forget to count our blessings. Sometimes we have to gently remind each other to count our blessings. Sometimes we have to force each other to stand up and proclaim those blessings. I have to confess, I love that last one. Not because I'm bossy or anything (lest you get the wrong idea about me), it's just because I love helping others realize how truly blessed they are. It's wonderful when I see someone proclaiming the good things God has put in their life. It makes me feel good when the people I love feel happy. It's a double blessing when I am a vehicle to making them feel good. Last week I had the joy of forcing my husband to stand up and proclaim his blessings. Not that he is a grumpy guy or anything (lest you get the wrong idea about him), but because we have a lot of "stuff" going on. So, in his proclamation of his blessings, he made the following statement, ". . and I have a beautiful wife who loves me. . ." "Awwww," I thought, "I must remember he said that when I count my blessings." Which were triple that day; #1 - I had the blessing of seeing the man I love be happy over his blessings, #2 - I was a vehicle to his happiness and #3 - (a very fortunate blessing for me) beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Definition Of Beauty

2010-10-02T17:21:00.009-04:00

Do you know why women in the 21st century don't age gracefully? It's because we don't know what that looks like. Everywhere we turn society is telling us to: fade the age spots, lift the eyes, fill in the wrinkles, color the grey, tuck the tummy, firm the body, plump the lips, nip the neck, and for goodness sake, whiten your teeth. If you can't be young, at least look young, act young, pretend you're young. We spend so much time chasing after youth that we miss the beauty of gracefully aging. "The silver-haired head is a crown of glory. . . And the splendor of old men is their grey head." (Proverbs 16:13 and 20:29) We used to associate age with wisdom and respect, but not anymore. The constant message in our culture is to be young and beautiful, as if one is dependent on the other. When did beauty get so tied up with youth? The most beautiful woman I have ever known was my grandmother. She was not tall, slender, blond or young. But she was witty, wise and warm. When I think of her I smile. Gramma would not fit into society's definition of beauty - but beautiful she was. She shined with it. Gramma never rubbed beauty serum on her skin or colored her hair, but everybody wanted to be near her. That's what real beauty is, drawing people to yourself because of who you are, not what you look like. Because of Gramma I know what real beauty is. It's not something you can get in a bottle at the drug store, it's something you age gracefully in to by accepting the passing of time with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Gal 5:22). It's who my grandmother was and who I strive to be.

Rant

2010-10-02T12:35:00.004-04:00

If we lived in a world where love ranked higher than revenge, where kind words flowed off our lips as easily as sexual innuendo, where good deeds overshadowed hate crimes, where love making was behind closed doors with married folks and not broad casted, where society protects and (yes, I will say it, that dirty word), SHELTERED the eyes and ears of little ones . . . if we lived in a world like that, then maybe (and it's a big maybe), I could see a place for Facebook. However, our world is not one of humility or discernment or modesty. Don't be mad at me if you are one of the few folks who uses Facebook in positive way, I know you exist. I will, however, say that the benefits (what benefits) of having Facebook DO NOT out weight the risks. What risks? Seeing and reading some of the most vile and negative pictures and statements. Wasting time trying to figure out what initials mean only to find out it's vulgar. Having advertisements flashing their lies (sins) at you. Spending hours, yes folks hours, a day updating your Facebook page, but then saying you don't have time to volunteer. I wondered if anyone was watching the kids, only to realize that someone needs to be watching the adults. Facebook is one drug that has too many negative side effects, it should be taken off the market.

Secret #2 - Puppies and Ponies

2010-09-19T16:18:00.007-04:00

My kids were young when the Nightmare On Elm Street series came out. It was appropriately named because when I saw a commercial for it, I had nightmares. My kid's friends were watching it. Naturally, my kids asked if they could watch it too. We said, "No." "But," they'd whine, "whyyyyyyyyyya?" "Because," we'd tell them, "when you go to sleep we don't want you to have nightmarish thoughts in your head. We want you to have thoughts of puppies and ponies. We want good and happy things dancing in your brain; Godly things; things that are true, noble, just, pure and lovely; things that are excellent and worthy of praise." (Phil. 4:8) We provided them with an assortment of stories and movies and puzzles and games about puppies and ponies (and whales). We sat with our children for hours on end reading and watching and playing. That's when we discovered the secret. It was a double blessing for my husband and I as we had hours of time with our children and when we went to bed, satisfied with the events of the day, we dreamed of puppies and ponies, too. And because we always try to practice what we teach, we watched and read and played things that were all of good report. The secret is that we have a choice of what we think on. Garbage in, garbage out or graciousness in, graciousness out? Puppies and ponies or porn and poop? You decide.

Secret #1

2010-09-16T20:47:00.006-04:00

About 25 years ago, my husband and I were invited to a black tie affair. We really didn't want to go, but it was one of those things that we knew we should do. So, we got ourselves dressed and off we went. While we were there, we saw an older man who was dressed in his black tuxedo. He was standing in the crowd with his arms folded across his chest in a rather defiant pose. His hair was a thick, wavy, grey mess all over his head. It was quite a comical sight. My husband and I saw him at the same moment. I leaned in and whispered to my husband, "I'll go to this stuffy party, but I won't comb my hair!" We laughed and enjoyed ourselves the rest of the night. We learned a lesson that night. In this life there are things that we have to do, things we should do and things we can simple say no thanks to. The secret to finding peace and joy is figuring out which situation fits into which category and then accepting it gracefully. So when we have to or should do something that we don't want to do we look at each other and say, in a resigned manner, "I'll go . . . but I won't comb my hair!" It reminds us how we did, indeed, enjoy that black tie affair all those many years ago and that being defiant would only rob us of our peace and joy. So, we get dressed, we comb our hair, we do what we have to do and sometimes we even forget that we didn't want to go.

2010-09-15T14:06:00.002-04:00

Look who's eating my parsley!

Don't Be Hating Eve

2010-09-07T17:25:00.002-04:00

It's hard to imagine the perfect life that Adam and Eve enjoyed in the Garden of Eden before Eve ate from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Imagine. All the fresh fruits and vegetables that hung on the most beautiful of trees. The rivers were full of gold and onyx and the mountains rich in beauty. A mist went up from the earth and watered the whole face of the ground. What joy to the senses - seeing God's creation, smelling natural herbs and flowers, touching unpolluted water, hearing God's Holy voice, and tasting the sweetness of pure foods. Seriously, what more could Eve have wanted? Does it make you so mad that Eve messed all that up? How long do you think it took? How long before the serpent tempted Eve? How long before Eve caved in and ate what she knew from God, her Creator, that she should not? Oh, Eve, how could you? You really blew it! But before you get too mad at Eve, we really don't know if it was a few hours, a few days, a few years, a few decades . . . the Bible doesn't say. I'd like to believe that if God gave me all that He gave Eve, I'd be content to follow His commands forever. However, I am just like Eve, always wanting more blessings, with my eyes bigger than my stomach. Maybe Eve was just having a bad day . . . you know, off her game . . . feeling a little insecure in her humanness. Maybe we're all a little like that, so don't be hating Eve.

My New Sewing Room

2010-08-24T19:24:00.003-04:00

I am a terrible liar. I laugh when I lie. And I usually laugh when someone accuses me of lying, which of course, only makes me look guilty. My kids know that my "tell" is laughing. We have a friend who repeatedly nibbles at his lower lip when he lies, it's his "tell". He just doesn't try to lie to us anymore, which of course, is a good thing. It is surprising when I can prank one of my kids, because I usually start laughing the second they come into the room. They say, "What are you up to?" Which only makes me laugh harder. It's pathetic really. So, when I told my middle daughter who is going away to college (boohoo - all the way to Florida) that I was turning her room into a sewing room and I didn't even crack a smile, she believed me. She was very insulted that I already had plans for her room before she was even out the door. But I immediately felt bad that she felt bad so I confessed it was a joke and I started to laugh. She didn't believe me that it was a joke. You see, I didn't laugh when I lied, which I usually do, and then I did laugh when I told her the truth, which I don't usually do, so she thinks I'm turning her room into a sewing room when she leaves. Every time I tell her I'm not going to, I laugh, which makes me look guilty. . . I don't know why I laugh, I can't help it. Maybe I'm lying to myself and I really am going to turn her room into a sewing room . . . hahahaha . . . just . . . hahaha . . . kidding . . . hahaha . . . honey. . . hahahaha . . .

What Did You Learn In Kindergarten?

2010-08-14T14:34:00.004-04:00

I have heard folks saying, "all I really needed to know I learned in kindergarten." Well, I have to say I disagree. In kindergarten I ate like a slob, I hated napping, I hit others when I didn't get my way, I made messes that I left for others to clean up, I didn't listen, I lied, I picked my nose and I forgot my address. In fact, my report card from kindergarten states that I knew my name and address the first semester, but not the second semester. Obviously, I needed to learn beyond kindergarten. And beyond that, I needed to learn some important stuff that you just don't learn in school. Did you know that when you throw a party for 65 people it's the coffee and cake that matters more than the dinner food? Did you know that honoring the "guest of honor" with an embarrassing but heart-felt poem is more touching a gift than a jewel? Did you know that greeting your guests with sincere enjoyment is better than sounding trumpets to announce them? Did you know that love is the most important ingredient in party preparation? Do you know where I learned all this from? Not from my teachers, not from my friends, not from Emily Post . . . I learned from watching my mother. Thanks Mom, I hope you enjoyed the party even though that monster moth seemed to love you as much as I do . . .

Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

2010-08-08T16:55:00.006-04:00

Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With Monster sunflowers!! I never understood why Mary was so contrary. Her garden grew well. She had someone care enough about her to ask her how her garden grew. She even had silver bells. What more did Mary need? Sheesh! My garden, as you can see, is growing quite well. My daughter is about 5 and 1/2 feet tall and the sunflowers tower over her. My watermelons are quite delicious and I have more tomatoes than I can handle. The green beans must be close cousins to Jack's magic beans because they are also giant. All these, plus some pepper plants, were planted in our community garden plot. Through the hard work of a very dedicated and loving family, a community is growing together. Literally. Naturally, we have the best plot, not because our garden is better than anyone else's (actually far from it), just because we are right next to the water spigot. Location, location, location. I have been tricking my kids all summer. I say, "Will you come with me to the store, I'll get you a milkshake on the way home?" They say, "Okay." And when they are belted in and we are driving down the street, I say, "Oh, I have to stop at the garden first." (hee-hee) Sometimes they are quite contrary. . .

Not Funny

2010-07-25T21:25:00.004-04:00

My kids have been retelling a story that I personally don't think is funny. However, since they are getting a kick out if I thought I would tell here. My kids were 8, 10 and 12 at the time. They all played sports, the girls were taking piano lessons, they all had play-dates. We went on homeschool trips, to the library, to Girls Scouts and Boys Club. We delivered Meals on Wheels and did a mother-daughter book club. Needless to say, we were in my car a lot. We carried many supplies in the car; soccer cleats and baseball equipment, chairs and blankets, crayons and pads, snacks and juice boxes, cassettes of children's music and CD's of Ella Fitzgerald, bug spray and sunscreen, Tylenol and Benadryl, inhalers and Epi-pens, tissues and sanitizer, etc. etc. etc. For all the driving around I did and all the packing and unpacking the car I did, all I ever asked the kids to do was pick up the garbage before they got out and ran into the house. Sheesh, you have thought I was asking them to detail the car with a toothbrush. This particular day I asked, sweetly, "Children, would you please pick up any garbage in your space and please throw it out for me?" This is how they responded, "It's not my mess," and "I didn't do it," and "That's not fair!" I had had it! I turned to them and yelled, "I don't care if little green martians came down from Mars and crapped in the car, YOU'RE CLEANING IT UP!" Now, is that so funny??

The Library Card

2010-07-22T18:06:00.002-04:00

When the kids were little, going to the library was a big deal. We went every week. We were able to take out 10 books per library card. Using my card and my husband's card we were able to take out 20 books at a time. The kids LOVED getting books. In fact, they couldn't wait until they got their own card to take books out. I mean that literally, my oldest hid a book under her winter coat when she was 5. I noticed it when I tried to belt her in. I told my kids, "When you can write your name, without my help, on a straight line, you may get your own library card." My first born has 9 letters in her first name. She was 5 and a half when she got her card. My second born only has 7 letters in her first name. She was 5 and a half when she got her card. My son, he didn't care so much. He only has 5 letters in his name. He was 6 and a half when he got his card. Our library is a small town library and very frugal. Library cards are only replaced if they are lost, and then for fee . . . after interrogation. I'm not saying the Librarian is scary, just that my kids never lost their cards. My middle daughter is now 18 and went to take a college level test to be tested out of Natural Science so she can take Physics in college. When she arrived at testing they asked her for 2 forms of identification. All she had, other than her drivers license, was her library card that she signed almost 13 years ago. The card was graciously accepted and she passed the test and that is my story about The Library Card.

A New York Minute, Part III

2010-07-12T08:39:00.003-04:00

. . . Just like in one of those artsy filming scenes, time seemed to freeze for a second for me. Everyone else was buzzing to and fro and I was stuck in the moment, truly present for the first time that day. I stopped my husband and daughter,"I'll be right back," I told them. I walked up to the homeless man and said, "I can't give you any money, but if you're hungry I can feed you?" He nodded. I went and got the personal pizza - personal now in the sense that it matter greatly to me - and I handed the box to the man. He looked up at me and nodded a thank you. "Can I pray over your meal?" I heard myself ask. He nodded again. For the third time that day I would address God, and for the second time that day I would kneel down in New York City in my white Capri's. Only this time I would kneel on the dirty pavement and my words were not focused on me. I prayed words that came from the Holy Spirit, personal things that I would never say to a stranger, bold things that I asked in faith and in love. In my position kneeling on the ground, this man who was sitting on a duffel bag, was above me. I was reminded of this verse in Philippians, ". . . in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. Let each of you look out not only for his own interest, but also for the interests of others." 2:3b-4. In a New York Minute my attention, my interests and my focus was changed. In a New York minute a homeless man ministered to me by the power of the Word of God. In a New York minute I went from panic to praise. You gotta' love New York! And you gotta' love God!

A New York Minute, Part II

2010-07-10T13:18:00.005-04:00

. . . I made it through the Lincoln Tunnel . . . barely. We found a nice little Italian restaurant that was thankfully not too crowded, where I ordered a tall glass of ice. I held the ice on my wrists and neck and tried not to panic. I hate hot flashes, I hate menopause and I hate crowded cities. But, I love Broadway, I love my husband and I love my daughter. I went into the bathroom for the 5th time before the food even came. Only this time, I put two paper towels on the floor (I was wearing white Capri's) and knelt down to have myself a little talk with God. I asked God to give me peace so I can be present to the day's events. When I got back to the table the food had arrived. I had ordered a personal pizza, but it wasn't personal in the sense that one person could eat it, it was huge! I choked down one slice and had the rest boxed up to take home. The restaurant said they would hold the left over pizza until the play was over. I was a bit shaky and a bit achy and still hot. Needless to say, I was a bit distracted. Half a block away from the restaurant we walked past a man sitting on a duffel bag holding a cardboard sign that simply read, "Homeless." The city was hot and crowded, but this man seemed not to notice. On the contrary, he seemed to feel cold and lonely . . .

To be continued . . .

A New York Minute, Part I

2010-07-10T12:23:00.005-04:00

I must preface this story with this fact. What I was experiencing this day was the beginning of passing my kidney stones. Since I had never passed a kidney stone before I didn't know it. I misread my body symptoms and assumed I was in the throws of a menopausal episode that caused me to have anxiety. Who knew?

The morning that my husband, my daughter and I were heading to NYC to see The 39 Steps began like most mornings. I woke up way too early but was way too tired to get out of bed. So, I began to pray. Meeting with God the first thing in the morning is wonderful. Midway through my conversation with God I started having a hot flash. Only this hot flash lasted a loooooonnnng time. "Great," I thought, "we're heading to New York where it's hot and crowded. Just what I need - menopause!" I got dressed to go - white capri's and sleeveless of course, with a scarf thrown in my bag for the air conditioned theatre - and off we went. I was having one long hot flash that seemed to get worse just as we entered the Lincoln Tunnel. That was when the anxiety set in. I mean we were just about 100 feet under the Hudson River in a tube that's only 13 feet tall and 20 feet wide . . . breathe . . .

To be continued. . .

I'm Toast

2010-07-04T19:39:00.005-04:00

As you all know, I like to make light of the circumstances and situations we find ourselves in. As you also know, I have a serious side when it comes to life lessons from God. This post will have neither. How do you make light of a vice principal who unduly takes away your child's position because a crusty teacher lies? How do you make light of an insurance company who terminates your policy, without notice or justification, while you're passing kidney stones? How do you make light of having a serious allergic reaction to medication that was designed to make you well? How do you make light of a public agency who claims to protect children and places them in a shelter instead of a home? How do you make light of a company that charges way too much for Internet service that was out 2 weeks? How do you make light of crazy people who verbally assault you with no provocation? The short answer is you don't. Whatever lesson God is trying to teach me is, so far, lost on me. I'm sure there is a lesson, but what it is is unbeknownst to me. On the bright side . . . I did spend a few peaceful days at the beach, no sunburn, no jellyfish, no biting flies, no bad weather, a short surprise visit with a friend and some precious time with my family. And a dear, dear friend, reading in between the lines of my last post, reached out to me and made my day. God is good all the time, even when I'm toast.

Time For Laughter

2010-06-26T17:48:00.003-04:00

If it is at all possible, go and see the play The 39 Steps on Broadway. It is a family safe play that is very funny. Even better, have your daughter take you . . . (thank you again peanut!)

In our hectic lives we must (must!) take time to laugh. There is so much work to be done and so many folks who can't do it by themselves. If we are going to be a light to others we need (need!) to take time to laugh. How can we go to someone and tell them we want to help them if we are wearing an old worn out face. How can we say, "Be joyful in all circumstances," and then not be joyful ourselves. Hypocrite! When you can't find the humor or joy in your circumstances, find it somewhere else (like a play, for instance). And by all means, don't waste your time helping folks who should be helping themselves. I'm not saying don't lend a hand or a word of encouragement, but help the folks who need it. Let your joy be evident, let your light shine, crack a smile or even better, just laugh.

Hold My Hand

2010-06-21T20:54:00.003-04:00

The kidney stones passed, the allergic reaction passed, the secondary infection is getting better, but this too shall pass. The day is ending and I think about all the things that are going on in my life, but all this too shall pass. And it's good to let these things pass, to let the anger and annoyance and impatience to pass. When my kids were little I used to hold their hand when I had to tell them something I knew they wouldn't want to hear. I'd say, "Hold my hand because it's hard to be mad at someone when you're holding hands with them." You know, they always let me hold their hand, even though they knew it meant I would be telling them something unpleasant. Well, right now, God has got my hand. And no matter what He's got to say, I'll keep holding His hand because I know I am safe. I would rather hold His hand and hear something unpleasant than to have my way and an empty hand. Wherever God leads, I'm following. I may not always like it, but I know it's way better to be in His hand than any other place on or off the planet. When He said, "Take my hand because I've got something to say," I knew in my heart it might be unpleasant, but I never hesitated and I'm not letting go . . .

Birthing vs. Kidney Stones

2010-06-13T12:11:00.002-04:00

Birthing babies hurt. God told us it would. Darn that Eve. However, God created our bodies in such a way that our bodies could accommodate the process. He gave us nice wide hips (thank you God), intermittent contractions, hormones and a flexible birth canal. I'm not saying birthing babies doesn't hurt, I'm just saying that God warned us about it and He made our bodies with all the right parts to do it. Now on the other hand, kidney stones hurt. Our bodies were not made to pass a stone. The path that a stone takes is not one that our bodies were ever expected to allow. I have heard women say, "My husband passed a stone last night, you'd think he'd just given birth." Or, "I told him try birthing a 9 pound baby!" Well, I am here to tell you ladies, passing a stone is equal to or greater than giving birth. Have a little compassion for those men in your life. Can you imagine if while you were giving birth your husband said to you, "If you think that hurts try passing a kidney stone!" Having done both now, birthing and passing kidney stones, I will surely have more compassion for those around me suffering. But, please don't don't go complaining about a hang nail, I would have to say, "Toughen up cupcake!"

In The Midst

2010-06-11T18:19:00.005-04:00

Someone said, "Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to what happens." In other words, our attitude is what dictates how we handle life. I am sitting home right now instead of sitting at my daughter's high school graduation ceremony because I have a kidney stone that needs passing. Wouldn't want to pass it there . . . (my attitude stinks.)

Here is what I know. Deciding to do the right thing and have the right attitude is harder to do than just saying so. Not compromising your principles is easy until your principles are challenged. I can say all day long that I won't gossip and be very successful at it, until that is, the phone rings. I can say I will love all God's people and mean it with all my heart, until, someone speaks unkind to me. I can say I will not grow weary of doing good and then get so worn out I cry. When life is happening, when you're in the midst, how you react will be the truest measure of who you are; your character will shine through and people will take notice. If you do the right thing, if you walk close to God and follow His commands and live authentically, you will likely be hated by man. That's irony isn't it? People hate you when you follow God and hate you when you act like man. My daughter set her standards to God's word and in the midst she was true to Him. She made some enemies along the way, she even received hate mail (way to go honey). But in the end, she's walking at graduation with her principles in tact, her character strong and her attitude right. I'm so proud of her I could burst (and that's pretty much how my kidney feels, too!).

Message In A Bottle

2010-06-08T19:08:00.002-04:00

Did you ever write a message, stick it in a bottle and throw it out to sea? What would you say? What would you hope the outcome to be? Imagine tossing a bottle into the ocean. A small vessel that bottle would be in a sea. What are the chances of someone actually finding it, reading it and responding to it? It seems impossible. One tiny bottle (message), tossed (prayed) into the sea (Heaven). Hoping (hoping) it will be recovered. Then, if it is recovered, will the message be answered?

I am here to tell you that messages (prayers) are recovered (answered) and there is hope, there is always hope.

July 25, 2006 our family threw a bottle into the Pacific Ocean with a message of love and hope.
July 28, 2006 that bottle was recovered by another family. The bottle hadn't traveled all that far (15 to 20 miles) but it made a pretty unique journey past the Golden Gate Bridge in pretty rough seas. It traveled north, up the Pacific Coast where it was found by a lovely family of three. Imagine our surprise and delight to receive a letter (via the U.S. mail, which incidentally moved slower than a bottle in the sea) saying our message was recovered. It seemed impossible.

Say your prayers, toss them to Heaven, expect them to be recovered and know that nothing is impossible with God.

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

2010-06-05T09:55:00.007-04:00

The Good:
-My daughter is home from college for the summer and she found a job working with children - her passion (hence her major in Children's Ministry).
-My middle daughter is ranked in the top 10 of her high school graduating class of over 350 students.
-For her birthday she received 3 tickets to a Broadway play and she invited me and her dad to go with her **beaming**.
-The boy is playing baseball on a pretty good summer team and watching him gives me delight.
-I get to leave all my "stuff" behind and just sit in the great outdoors and be a spectator.
The Bad:
-I have been working with a public agency for the benefit of someone who can't do it for himself.
-Bureaucracy runs rampant. . .
The Ugly:
-I have been working with a public agency.
-My foot. Yes, folks, I have become a real klutz. I tripped over the cat racing to get the phone (I thought it may be one of the bureaucrats finally answering my calls). The cat flew threw the air like a football, but not before tearing up my foot with her claws. Someone wants to render my left foot incapable.
But to end on a Good note:
-The husband says, "Feethurt, there is never a dull moment living with you." (Do you suppose that could have a double meaning?)

Dull And Stupid

2010-06-03T11:45:00.004-04:00

I am exhausted. I have been working on a project (details to follow at a later date) that has taken up all of my energy and brain power. I have no sense of humor left, no time for rants, no desire to be clever or light or inspirational or creative. I have had a hot dog for lunch for 4 days in a row. I have become dull and stupid. Yesterday I tried to remove my terribly chipped finger nail polish using Sea Breeze face astringent. When my nail polish was not coming off I began to yell at the cotton ball and accused the blue colored liquid of plotting against me to make my life even more miserable than it already was. I tossed the cotton ball in the toilet and picked up the Sea Breeze to pour it down the bathroom drain. That is when I realized my error in grabbing the wrong bottle. I sat down on the bathroom floor and laughed, . . . then I cried. What a release of emotions! I now know why crazy people are always walking around laughing uncontrollably. It releases those bottled up emotions. I don't know how to do things just a little. It's all the way or not at all for me. There is no in-between. So, while I am working on this project, with all my heart, bear with me. Don't expect anything too inspirational or clever from me, just dull and stupid . . .

Superfluous Strawberries

2010-06-03T11:00:00.001-04:00

Simplistic splendor satiates stomach & soul.

Do The Next Right Thing & Keep Walking

2010-05-28T18:22:00.003-04:00

I have had a reconciliation with my pedometer. In fact, we are the best of friends. I am sorry that I let it fall . . . under my foot . . . three times. The surface is a little scratched up, but other than that, it is behaving like a trusted friend. I have set the stride to the correct number (30 inches) and I now wear it on my waist in the right spot. I found if I wear it too far to the left it only registers 1/2 my steps. If I wear it in the middle of my waist it counts only random steps. So, I wear it just where it counts all my steps. I have given myself a challenge to see if I can walk 10,000 steps a day. That's about 5 miles. Did you know that I have over a mile of carpet in my house? I did not know that until I wore my pedometer while I vacuumed. For three days I walked over 10,000 steps - well, sort of. Every time I bend over to pick a strawberry I get credit for a step. In reality, it's not really a step, but who am I to argue with my new best friend? I know there are some really good analogies in all of this, but I am so emotionally drained that I can't think of any. At some later time I will share why this has been an emotional time, but until then please pray for God to watch over His children. If you see any analogies in this, please share them with me. I could use a good analogy right about now.

Allowances

2010-05-20T17:39:00.001-04:00

So, I was with a very nice group of ladies, having a very nice time . . . until, that is, they started talking about giving children allowances. I always shy away from those conversations because I am usually at odds with the majority. I understand the whole idea of teaching kids finance and responsibility with money. I understand the idea of teaching kids to make choices (Do I want a basketball or a baseball?). I even appreciate the idea of teaching kids to tithe. Some parents give allowances only after chores have been done (*cough* child labor). But I simply don't give my kids money each and every month just because they exist. My kids want for nothing. I'm not saying they're spoiled, but they're spoiled. I was sitting there minding my own business when someone said, "Well, you're very quiet. Do you give your children allowances?" "Yes," I said, "I give my children allowances." One of the moms chimed in, "No you don't! You told me you don't!" I said, "Oh, yes I do. I allow my children to live in my house rent free, I allow them to eat at my table for no charge, I allow them to store their possessions in my bedrooms for no fee and I even allow them to be driven in my car where ever they need to go without a fare. I think I give them a lot of allowances. Humph!" And that was the end of that.

Positively Prolific Plants

2010-05-20T10:51:00.004-04:00

My seriously selfless strawberry patch from last year that produced only one berry at a time has changed to positively prolific plants this year. There are hundreds of berries and I'm afraid that they will all become ripe at the same time. Feast or famine. That is the story of my life. So much for balance and boundaries. And just because I like to, I will end with this.

Alliterations are always abounding around my abode.Sweet succulent strawberries satisfy and sustain the soul.