Overlooking The Bad

Word of the Post
Today's word is: condone
/con*done"/ verb
To regard or treat (usually action that is bad or blameworthy) as acceptable, forgivable or harmless. To overlook an offense; to pardon; make allowances for, or be lenient with.
When a child is caught doing something bad, many parents today condone their actions instead of punishing and educating.
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I got the car back, and things seem to be operating properly. I now have to settle up with the shop. I don't like giving up my money. I didn't even have to work for this money, but it just seems wrong to pay so much for installing such tiny parts. Dread fills my being. Unfortunately, I am also an honorable person, and must pay my debt. I want the guys to make the money for their labor. Just not so much of it. I have told the guys in the office more than once: I appreciate the work you do for me, but I am really getting tired of looking at you.

I think the cats are trying to break the door between the living room and the garage. They run throughout the house, at break-neck speeds, and hit the cat door at full tilt. One of these days, the door is going to pop out of its place, or just break in half from the force.

Of all the things that can go wrong, I have to deal today with the most painful. I have been having horrible back spasms. It hurts to walk, hurts to sit, hurts to move. I have iced my back, rubbed it with Tiger Balm, massaged, taken Tylenol, heat packed, and stretched. I have no idea what is pinched or what is out of place, but my muscles are crying. I wonder how much of this comes from all the walking I did over the weekend, going to the craft fair and a Blazers hockey game. You might question why going to a hockey game should make my back hurt, and I have the answers. I spent all day Friday at the State Fairgrounds at An Affair of the Heart, a twice annual craft fair. My legs and feet hurt for two days after that. On Saturday, we went to the hockey game at the Ford Center. We park about three blocks away, and walk to the arena. Then we have to hike up and down the stairs to get to our seats. The seats are not built for babies who have back like I have. I have to sit in the seats at a bit of an angle, and I am sure that is the actual culprit.

Thankfully, none of these will last forever. I have the money in hand to give to the shop for my car. I know the pain will go away soon enough. I should not complain. It brings everyone else down, and doesn't make me feel any better. Just know that I am doing all I can (for free) to help myself.

I wish for all my readers, loyal or new, to have a fun and safe and Happy Halloween!

And A Cherry On Top!

Today has been a bit of a roller coaster. I went to my friend's memorial service. It was one of the shortest, happiest funerary ceremonies I have ever attended.

The man was a Christian, and lived a long and happy life. He was full of awe at new experiences, and loved any new gadget he could get his hands on. He was well-loved, and will be much missed. The preacher who did the eulogy was impressed with the masses of people that kept the family company at the Heart Hospital. Apparently, even without me, the room was always full from Sunday night when he had the initial heart attack until Tuesday morning after he passed away. The Heart Hospital at Mercy was even good enough to bring a food cart for the guests. Amazing.

The funeral was a mix of congregational singing (our church being fond of acappella music), and a short talk about his life. I felt a bit self-conscious during one song. I was the only alto I could hear, on an alto lead part of the chorus. I don't think I was the only one singing, but I KNOW I was the only one the song leader could hear. It took a few minutes for all the adrenaline to get back to a normal level. I like singing, but I didn't want to be the center of attention at a funeral.

We laughed, we cried a little, and we broke for food. The actual service was only 1/2 an hour. He would have been happy to know that we all visited a long time over a good meal. His widow is such a sweet woman. I feel for her. She will no longer have her husband to listen to her. Her son lives with her, and I think things will be fine. He is a good son, taking care of his parents recently.

His daughter, my good friend, works for Hertz. I find it funny that the meaning of the name Hertz is "my strife". There are very few people I know who have worked there that enjoyed it; and I know a LOT of people who have worked there. Even I worked there for a short while. I guess you have to be off the phones in the call center, and then things are fine. Hertz (yes, the rental car company) is not fond of letting its people off for any old reason. But today, there were many people who work with my good friend at Hertz, and came to the funeral. It was neat.

The service was not a preachy service. The minister didn't try to convert the heathens who knew this man. We just celebrated his life, and it was peaceful.

I still don't have my car back. They keep trying to fix the sensors that trigger a fan that cools the system. They have replaced the water pump and two sensors, as well as the thermostat. They have one more part they are replacing tomorrow, and I should have the car back after that. I hope it works correctly. I miss my Malibu. I love that car. I have said before, if we could put the cushy seats and the cassette player from the Buick into the Malibu, the Malibu would be close to perfect. But perfect requires working. So, we wait. Pray that I don't go crazy without my car.

Go with God, Friends.

With Whipped Cream

Today, I got the car back at lunch, and had to take it back to the shop by 4. It overheated again. The shop replaced a thermostat or a sensor of some kind, and a seal that had a leak. They even put more antifreeze in it for the winter. I again had Roadrunner in the car, with her boys picked up from school, and she told me that the car still smelled funny, and the boys told us the car was leaking. While driving between the school and the house, I noticed the temperature going up higher than it should have. The car dumped about 3 cups of fluid on Roadrunner's driveway.

We still have the other car, so I am not totally stranded at home, but we have lots of things to do tomorrow, and will be one car short still.

We will be attending the memorial service for my friend's dad who passed away on Tuesday morning. They have made sure to tell everyone to dress casual, so I don't have to find my blackest skirt, or wear uncomfortable shoes. His widow will be happy that we are comfy. He is being cremated, so there will be no viewing, and no trip to the graveside. I think this service will be more of a celebration of a life lived happy, than another funeral for an old guy at church that died. I know his family will be happy with that.

I suppose that my own emotional state is still in question, but I have to support my friends. I could not go to the hospital on Monday. I don't like hospitals, and I was certain that I could not be helpful there. I can do funerals for weeks, but I don't want to see you with tubes hanging off of you. It isn't really a phobia, it's more of an issue of comfort zone.

I hear wine is good for the heart, if taken in moderation. Unfortunately for me, that requires grapes. I don't much like grape juice, and to let it get sour over time in a wooden cask does not improve it. I have, however, found a few select wines that are not so bad.

Oklahoma produces sweeter wines, according to the owner of the winery we have been to a few times. We started going there the first time for a wedding we attended. We have been back for a whim on the spur of the moment, and have been there for a Wine Festival. At the Festival, they sell tasting glasses for $10, and this includes free tastes all day long. We got to try each flavor without buying a whole bottle. I avoided the driest of the reds, but actually liked a few that I was sure I would hate. I wish I had my own pictures. This winery is so very pretty. They have an area outdoors that is set up for weddings, and give free tours of their facilities. They also have local artists, candle makers and musicians at the Festival.

There was a neat little thing that was interesting. They called it a Wine-a-Rita. It was a margarita mix that was made with either white or red wine instead of tequila. I had a tiny little taste of the white one. It was much better than tequila, there is no doubt about it. All slushy goodness. I could see myself getting quite sloshed with a drink like that. Which is why I didn't buy any of it.

Our favorites are (in no particular order or significance): Noble Red, Blush Delight and Fiesta Blanca. We are much happier with the sweet light wines. At the winery, they serve cheeses from an Oklahoma company, but I didn't buy any of it, so I don't remember the name of it. I prefer my cheese from Watonga, Oklahoma. They make cheddar cheese with bits of bacon in it! Yum-O! There is a cheese festival they do. We have talked about going there someday. Maybe next time.

I am not one to promote reckless drinking. I don't drink anything to get an effect. I don't like the buzzed feeling that can come from alcohol. I prefer to taste a little bit. I like to experiment with flavors, not get crazy. The tasting was quite fun for jokes. DH watched his favorite college team lose (they were playing the game to entertain the people who would have been at home otherwise), and told me, "I need a drink!" and went back to get another taste. It was funny, only because it was so out of character for us.

I would encourage anyone who wanted a new experience to go to a local winery and play for a day. You don't have to drink anything to have a good time, and you may come away with a new-found affinity for a certain libation. Just make sure that you buy and drive home to drink. I don't want any accidents because I told you to go to the grapes.

Here's to your health!

Strawberry Divinity

Troubles come in threes.

Mom is doing well, better than expected. Her heart doctor said she could go home Monday, her foot doctor said no until Tuesday around noon. They had done an MRI on her feet, to get more information about what was wrong, and they still had to get those results. I have not talked to her again today to make sure she really did go home, but I am sure she is fine. Her sisters are planning a trip to see her, so I don't have to be the one that must go home. That helps my conscience.

The second trouble was for my friend Cathy. Her dad passed away this morning, from a heart attack (the irony is not lost on me) that he suffered Sunday night. Her mother is going to have a hard time dealing, I think. The funeral will be on Thursday. I ask for prayers for Cathy and her whole family.

The third trouble is that today my car started acting up. On the way home, the low water light came on, and then my temperature gauge went way up. Roadrunner was with me. I took her home and then drove the car to the shop. I will find out tomorrow morning what was wrong. Water pump? Burst hose? Leak in radiator? Whatever it is, I hope it is not expensive. I can say, however, that this is the second time I have had interesting things happen at home when I was planning (hoping) to be out on the road going to New Mexico. I could have had the car die on the open road in the middle of nowhere, or had to have dad help me fix the car in order to get home again. I have had both of those happen before, so I am sure God is watching out for me.

Thanks for all your prayers.

Divine Raspberries

Sometimes, words escape me. (Don't act so shocked!) Sometimes, they overwhelm me. Tonight, words are not enough.

Just this morning in Bible class, we were asked if we ever felt like God spit on us. I know this sounds funny to many of you. It sounded funny to me. We talked about Jesus spitting in the dirt to make mud to heal blindness, not once but twice. "Jesus was a spitter." The thought was bad, but the ensuing conversation made us all gag. The sermon this morning asked a similar question, and I had to emulate (I was quiet!) the snort from forming a good spit. (Bible school teacher and his wife and DH and myself were all quite impressed with my humor and timing.) I seriously could not stop myself. I needed that laugh.

Do you ever feel like you get spat upon when expecting a different kind of healing? I feel a small bit like that this weekend.

I recently asked for prayers for my father, and now I need them for my mother. Mom had a mild heart attack on Friday. She will be in the hospital until after some tests on Monday. She is diabetic, and has sores on her feet from walking too much at work. The doctor was contemplating how to save her feet without amputating a pinkie toe, but those thoughts had to be put on hold when she went to the Emergency Room for her heart.

Asking for prayers for someone else is easy. I forget to ask them for myself. I am stressed again. I really don't like fidgeting from such a long distance. My friend said this morning that "hovering is so much better". She's right. She speaks volumes of wisdom from experience.

Living so far away from my family is a hard decision I made many years ago. My parents' health was much better back then. I have a hard time when friends, and even my husband, get to see their families so often. It starkly reminds me of my humanity, and the 100% mortality rate we share. I know it is the way of nature to bury our parents, but I don't want to have to do that just yet. I guess you could call it selfishness, or maybe it is more laziness or poverty. I just don't have the emotional wellbeing to watch my parents fail. They have worked so hard all these years, to make a good life for me and my brother, and to support themselves in their golden age. Sickness has ruined so much of that.

I think I have said too much. I did not say that I was at a loss for words tonight. Words are not enough, because my heart is crying out to God, and my mind has no idea of what words fit that. I am glad that I have the Holy Spirit to be my thesaurus for prayer.

The rain is falling. It smells wonderful. Wet, noisy, clean, cool and refreshing. I have an intense desire to go out barefoot and jump in a puddle. My yard is certainly a swamp by now, I should go dance and sing in the rain. Where is my umbrella? I need to have it to do the dance properly, right?

Is this Jesus' spit in the healing mud?

Those Graphics Were AWESOME in 1987!

Word of the Post
Today's word is: boon
/boon/
Noun: Favor, benefit; especially in answer to a request or prayer. "Every good and perfect boon is from above." ~ James 1:17 (Rev. Ver.)
Adjective: Favorable, convivial; as in "boon companion". Good or prosperous; as in "boon voyage".
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Having not ever been excited about video games, I am really happy we have a Wii. I actually like watching DH kill time playing his downloaded copy of Super Mario World. Every task is named for food. Donut Ghost House, Chocolate Fortress (the lava is chocolate, how funny!) and Vanilla Dome. Makes me hungry. I look forward to my own copy of the Adventures of Lolo. I remember Grannie having the NES, and playing that puzzle game. It was fun. You could put things in a bubble and push them out of your way, or block the spines that were shot at you by the faces in the wall. DH also got the original Legend of Zelda. We got the laptop, and promptly neglected the Wii for most of a month. We have fixed the situation, by the downloading of sweet old games (for a nominal fee).

Now, I am trying to appease the laptop witch. I named all our computers for witches. The first was Maleficent, because it sounded good. He spent more time with her than he did with me. (Granted, we were not yet married at the time.) Her floppy disk drive is now in our current computer. The current office computer is Druscilla. I couldn't think of a name I liked, so my tech friend who built her named her. The Wii is Ursula. The wireless router is Medusa. The laptop has no name yet. I am fast running out of Disney witch names, so I have to come up with others. I guess Cruella De Ville is my next in line? I would love to hear options, if you all have any. Wicked Step-Mother doesn't count.

It is fun to name the appliances, cars and computers. They each seem to have a mind of their own. Mom used to say that the cars saw her coming, and started plotting what to do to her. I have that same gift. I am not the only one to have two cars fail in the space of a day. At least we know where I got it from. Mine is not the only family to name cars. I had a teacher in 4th grade who had named her car "Knight" (in shining armor). It was a huge white car. She decided that horsepower sufficed. DH had an Accord named Fenry Honda. We had the Green Monster, a Ford F150 that was 20 when we bought it, and close to double that when we sold it. When we washed it, the paint would turn the sponge green. I called it that before I was old enough to know about the baseball field. I drove the Blue Bomb, a Chevy Suburban. The kids of the family who owned it before us called it the Spruce Goose, after the plane. I thought it was atrocious, but it got me to school the last two weeks of my Senior year. The Baby Battery was a "Copper Top" like a Duracel Battery, my white Ford Fairmont. She was a decent car, until I was away from home and tried to fix her.

Some days it seems as if everything mechanical is out to get me. Possessed. Evil. Demonic. Those days, everything goes wrong. The car won't start, the lights are all red, the popcorn burns in the microwave. On those days, I don't think to ask God for relief. On the good days, when the parking spot at the top of the row opens just as I get there, the lights are all green and the one cop I see takes off to chase someone else, I don't think to thank God. I am so ungrateful.

Ferret and I were just talking about this a few days ago. I get embarrassed and annoyed when other people make a habit of saying "Praise the Lord" or "Thank God". When people curse, I am the first to notice and be offended. Where is the sense in that? I should make the Lord my first thought, not be embarrassed that someone else has. My problem, so far as I see it anyway, is that the people I know who make it a habit to praise over good stuff use it almost as a hollow expression. It doesn't sound as if it holds any real meaning. It becomes a title, like PTL network; or it becomes their catch-all expletive, like the guy who shouts a mild curse every time a play is stopped in his football game. I am somewhat a quieter person when it comes to my faith. I will look up and say "Thank You" when that parking space opens, but I do not praise for good things as much as I should. I guess I don't want to sound fake. How shallow of me.

Snips and Snails and Puppy-Dog Tails

Word of the Post
Today's word is: akimbo
/uh*kim"bo/ adjective
With a crook or bend; appendages bent outward, with the joint away from the body.
Sitting "criss-cross applesauce" (it used to be called "Indian Style", but that is racially unacceptable to the PC crowd now) can be described as sitting with legs akimbo.
Can also be an adverb, describing the person's whole stance. A person with hands on hips, and elbows facing out can be referred to as standing akimbo.
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I am not sure what part of nature failed this year, or it if it is actually natural, but we have a lot of spiders right now. Last night, DH came back from his late night Friday fun job, and walked face first into a spider web on our front stoop. I shiver for him! He found the culprit builder, and had it removed from the gene pool. I went out this morning to spray the area with spider killer deluxe spray, and remove the web; the parts that DH may have missed with his face, anyhow. I found the remains of our criminal, as well as four smaller spiders. All different, so that lends hope that there is not a brown recluse around. I guess I need to wash the house. With Bleach. UGH!!! I committed Arachnacide. I am Woman, Hear me scream!

I am not nearly so fearful of spiders as others I know. (Hi, Nicki!) I don't really scream very often. I usually do more of a startled yell. (Holla!) In my searchings, I found many egg sacks, so I will soon be removing those to a distinctly impromptu funeral on the other side of the house. The coffin of the trash barrel will be emptied on Thursday next week.

Now that we are all buggy, I will move on to a better subject. Tuesday night, DH and I went on an "UnDate". "What is an UnDate?" you say? WELL... DH wanted to see the Simpsons Movie, and I had no desire at all to join him. I wished to see Becoming Jane, to which DH returned the sentiment. We decided that we could each see our movies separately, at the same time. The Dollar Theatre was quiet as we entered. We purchased tickets and the requisite snacks, and parted ways. I think we each had a good time. I am happy that we only spent 50 cents each to see movies that would have cost $8.75 a month ago. This way, for the same money, we got two movies and snacks instead of just one movie and nothing else. Date, and yet not. UnDate.

Thursday we went to a special Birthday dinner for BIL. He is now 35. A mutual friend sang "Happy Birthday, old Geezer..." which I found refreshing. I am not the oldest in the room when we hang out with this crowd of friends. Jelly Bean was pitching a little fit (I have seen much worse out of other kids... she is tame, even if it is unacceptable to her parents) and BIL tried to distract her by asking what day it was. Jelly Bean cried a little more and said, "Not MY birthday!" BIL said, "Well, a very merry UnBirthday to YOU!" She didn't get it. She's too little, and has not seen Alice in Wonderland. She must have been tired. She was clingy, but only to certain people. She also did a lot of running around and around the table to keep herself awake and entertained.

I got to hold Gum Drop for a while, to let BIL eat his dinner. I am not so selfish as to not share. I kept getting him, and then passing him off to other friends. One friend has twins, and his son was incredibly jealous that Daddy was holding a strange baby and not his own son. He cried, and reached for me. Now, I am no stranger to this family, but I am no auntie to them either. I don't see them very often, and the kids don't really know me, so it surprised me that Son would try to get me to hold him. Daughter was a little more subtle. She just screamed. These two make the funniest faces! I know that parents get irritated at children acting up at dinner, but I just don't pay so much attention. Is it practice for me? I watched the Mommy of the twins correct, threaten, and actually follow through on the punishments. All very quiet, and personal to the child each time. I think she even had a good time, despite the screaming interruptions.



BIL got a free dessert at the end of the meal, because it was his Birthday. I think half the crowd had a bite of it. And I am pretty sure we finished it. It was a kind of Tiramisu, covered in whipped cream and chocolate drizzle. It was five inches high, and four inches square! The coolest part was that they wrote "Happy Birthday" in a chocolate sauce on the edge of the plate. Jelly Bean got more dirty eating this than she did at her own birthday party.


I have not posted many pictures of Gum Drop lately, because I haven't really gotten to see him much. We go to a different church congregation than BIL and family do. We live close enough to call, and far enough that it is rude not to call when dropping by. We are all so busy with work and school and home and other friends... we don't see each other nearly enough for my taste. I get baby withdrawals. I have to grab babies at my church to fill the void.


This is me, holding Gum Drop, and DH took the picture. That was the first real smile I saw out of the kiddo. We were wandering around a Wal-Mart in Kingfisher. That is our family meeting place for the baby swaps, or the Gramma's Baby Fix Visits. We eat at a restaurant, and go to a park, and wander at the Wally-World, looking at cute clothes for the kids.


This is a rare moment, and you need to savor it. I have run out of things to say. *GASP!!!*

Have a great weekend!

Cutting Class

Word of the Post
Today's word is: aver
/a"ver/ verb
To affirm, verify, declare as truth; assert, avouch, prove.
"It is sufficient that the very fact hath its foundation in truth, as I do seriously aver is the case. ~ Fielding. {1913 Webster}
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Just before Gum Drop was born, Jelly Bean invented "itty bitty fives". If you asked for "fives" and held out your hand, she would put her thumb on top of your hand, and her forefinger on the bottom, and rub a little, like rubbing two pennies together, very soft and gentle. Then, she will usually just give you the "fives" you asked for. DH decided to steal her hand, and give it kisses. He pretended to eat her hand, even. She responded by taking her hand back, and saying, "Don't eat my Fives!"

Regarding my class-hopping, I didn't speak to the elder in question, yet. I decided that I needed to have our group's Agenda with me, the part where we want anonymity at all costs highlighted. I have considered that I may need to do this with one of the men from our group, one of the two who are our liaisons to the eldership at our church. I don't want to get to the point of attack. I just want to impress upon him that I don't appreciate being called out in a classroom. I am not in college anymore, and I will (who can stop me?) speak up if I have something to say.

This brings to mind the issue of women speaking. This is probably something you are tired of hearing from me. Once in a while, I just get a subject stuck in my head. I feel I have to "talk" it out, and it takes a while (and the help of others) to get it out of my mind's forefront. I apologize if you don't care anymore. It will not hurt my feelings if you stop reading here. You have seen all the new, important stuff for today. Sneak out of class. Be my guest.

In the churches of my youth, women were teachers in children's classes, but not to speak in the congregational worship service. My Methodist friend in High School was allowed to help serve the Communion at her services. This was unthinkable at my congregation. My Baptist friend was a frequent solo singer at her services. She has an amazing voice. This also would have been unthinkable, but for slightly different reasons.

My question is this: Is it wrong to allow young women to serve Communion? My thoughts: This is not a Speaking role, it is a quiet service role. Women served the meals in homes... how is this different? I personally would not be comfy walking around in church service. It kinda irritates me that my Hubby has to do this so much. I like to sit next to my hubby during services, and there are plenty more men around to serve. Having no children to watch, having a great radio voice, having no limping age or injury, and having not refused ever before... DH gets "drafted" a LOT. How would DH feel if he had to sit there in our regular place without me? If we allow women in this quiet role, however, what would stop them from desiring more public roles? How is this different than making announcements, praying or (swoon) preaching? Is the age of the servers something to consider? I have seen some teens serving who were very much against God all week long, and spiffied up on Sunday. Would this be better or worse or not any different at all if it were girls?

Next question: Is it right to allow young women to serve Communion? My thoughts: This is a public role. If she were asked to do so, it would not be usurping authority over any man. If she refused, would that be any better? In our service, five of the eight people serving Communion never speak. The other three each lead a prayer. Paul said in the Scripture that he did not allow a woman to speak in the service. Was that a directive from God, or just Paul's view of what was proper? If Scripture is God-breathed and inspired, then God doesn't want women to speak in the ceremony of a church service. Yet, Paul says "I". Does this include singing? Speaking to God in church through song is a community act. We also speak to each other in songs, hymns and spiritual songs... so should women be silent in all of the service?

Most of this questioning is tongue-in-cheek. I don't feel comfortable with women at the front of the service. I don't want to be the woman at the front of the service. I do not think it is always wrong, but it certainly is not always right. So, to be fair, I am happy to err on the side of caution when I have no firm opinion of my own. I don't like the "worship teams" that other local congregations have. I don't need four to eight people attached to microphones swaying. I could close my eyes. I do like the idea of microphones for each of the parts in a cappella harmony, especially if there is a new song that most of the congregation doesn't know. I don't believe that the "song and dance" is necessary, but I am not convinced it is wrong.

Powerpoint is not of Satan. Just so you know. I know many people who think that having the songs and sermon notes plastered on the wall so big and bright that everyone can read them (and will look up instead of slumping to sleep) is wrong. Like having a piano in the church, having a speaker system or video capabilities is of Satan. These people won't play dice or cards, don't drink (or even use mouthwash, for fear of Al-Key-Hol touching their lips) and don't even think about dancing. They don't like reading that David danced before the Lord, and his wife was struck barren for telling him that it was inappropriate.

It seems to me that God desires us to celebrate Him. Music (speaking instrumentally here), dance, singing (speaking without instruments) and shouting all can have their place. The discussion comes when we try to find the place for each. God wishes us to be civil to each other in an orderly service for Him. What I am seeing in my area is that people are almost more concerned for their own comfort zones than they are about what God requires.

This study is ongoing. I read a Scripture or two, and form an opinion. Then I find another Scripture or two, and that nudges my opinion in a different direction. My goal is to find the stance that most closely matches the attitude that God asks for. My American Human logic will not always match what God has to say. I don't like all of what God has said. It is hard to know that I can do things to change my eternal destiny. It is tough knowing that many members of my family, not having followed the instructions of God, will not be in Heaven. It is difficult to understand why a God of infinite power would allow humanity to make detrimental choices. We can never remove ourselves from the Love of God. However, we can remove ourselves from the Presence of God.