I am watching the Presidential Debate, and I am about to cry. This is a contest of the poo-flinging monkeys. Nobody wins, and they both get dirty. I want to quote Glenn Beck. I once heard him say that he had "de ja moo. The feeling that we have heard this bull before." I am seriously sick of it. I get tired of the name dropping and the mud slinging.
Either way, "change" is on our horizon. Bush is out, and someone else is in. I think this contest is going to be more a popularity contest, and I have to say I am afraid that the greatest country in the world is in trouble, no matter who wins. If McCain wins, he will be blocked at every turn by a Democrat controlled Congress, and then blamed for the failures that happen. If Obama wins, Socialism takes over, and "the working man" he says he will help will be carrying the national debt on his shoulders. (Worst of all, I will have to find a job again. The scream will be heard round the blogs...) (Note the sarcasm. You won't be able to hear the screams, silly.) This election has gotten off track and out of context. There is more hearsay than actual ideas, and nobody really knows anything about the actual intent of the administration.
The most important part about it to me is that the only day that matters is Tuesday, November 4th. These talks will not change my mind significantly. I doubt that anyone who has made up their mind can truly be swayed now. The debates will only solidify the opinions already in the minds of the staunch. The goal is for the candidates to sway the undecided voters. Unfortunately, smooth talking will get a lot of votes for the liar who won't really say what kind of "change" he intends to inflict on us. I will leave it up to you to decide which candidate I speak of. (because I am not sure either...)
I have tried to stay neutral here on the blog, but it is no secret that I support Conservative talk radio in my area, and I am a Conservative in my personal views. I won't try to lobby for your vote to my side... just that you vote. If you don't vote, you cannot complain. I can complain all I want, and I should complain to the people who can do something about it. After all, they are there to represent me. I think of The Princess Bride: "Have I made it clear that your JOB is on the line?!?!?"
I have heard somewhere in my educational years that the average life-span of a world power is 200 years. We do all realize that the U.S. is at 232, right? Alright, enough of that. You have your opinons and I can't change them. You are probably as tired of this as I am, anyway. Right?
I am a Football Widow again for the High School season. I have not yet seen the score for DH's High School. I don't know if there is a final yet. Some games are Thursday, most on Friday. He usually keeps tabs on it. I have been looking on Facebook for friends from other places. I have been watching the debates (not going back to that). I have been reading. I have not been paying attention to football. {Edit: DH came home and said that his school lost. Lost big. *sniff*}
DH also has a friend who is taking him to a college game tomorrow. Unfortunately, the game is for the other team. DH likes OU, the University of Oklahoma. Crimson and Cream. The game he is going to see (free ticket, so we don't complain) is OSU, Oklahoma State University. Ugly orange. The rivals. I lose him for another night this week. Which is fine. I can go shopping, watch the newest "chick flick", and listen to Country music all night. I should probably have a "Hubby-proofed" dinner of rice with Broccoli in it, too.
I have been reading the newest book in the Inheritance Cycle, Brisingr. This is the third book by Christoper Paolini, and has cover art by John Jude Palencar. I have had a good time with these books, because Paolini made up his own languages, and started all of this when he was still in High School. He was self published before being discovered and nationalized. I wanted to go to the Midnight Release at my local Books A Million, but I was in TX for DH's great uncle's funeral. Roadrunner went, but I haven't had a chance to talk to her about the "event". The cashier that helped me when I picked up my copy was... less than enthusiastic. It was apparently not really popular, nothing like the Harry Potter Midnight Releases. Roadrunner was done with the book in two days. This does not surprise me. She reads faster than I do. Which, is pretty amazing. I just wish I could recall more of what I read. She helps me actually retain what I read, because we discuss.
I have been killing house flies all day long. No less than 20, and I know there are still two or three floating around here, because I just saw one on the television. I have no idea where they are all coming from. I can't blame them, really. I did make some awesome banana bread muffins yesterday evening. I have been cooking more often, to save money and to eat healthier.
I have been thinking about coloring my hair again. I like going a little lighter than my naturally dark brown, and lot more auburn. I have one prominent WHITE strand in my bangs, and it has started to bother me. I don't really know why. In the past, I thought of it as a personal rite of passage. I don't know why that little hair should cause such a stir, or why the stir comes now. It is so selfish and childish and vain. The hair glares at me. Brightened, magnified, by the flourescent bulbs over the bathroom mirror. Maybe it is my addiction to Alias, and Jennifer Garner's beautiful brunette tresses. Maybe it is my own desire to keep the public image of youth. Maybe it is just me being a girl.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Veni, Vidi, Venti
Word of the Post
Today's word is: tschotschke
/chach"keh/ noun
From Merriam-Webster online at http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/tchotchke
Yiddish for trinket, from obsolete Polish czaczko. Useless bauble, pretty but trivial. Cheap gewgaw.
When I got married, my friend told me she wanted to get me something useful, not some tschotschke that would be gathering dust on a shelf I didn't have.
~~~~~~~~~~~
First of all, thank you all. For caring about me, and really paying attention to my blabbering. It is refreshing and very important to me.
For those of you sweet enough to suggest that Mom find a new doctor, I regret to inform you that Farmington, New Mexico isn't the biggest town, and no, there is no other specialist that she can see there. To get another requires a different city. Albuquerque is probably the biggest and nearest option, but that would require a lot of driving that she can't do, or moving the household that Dad can't do for another 4 years (when he can collect the retirement money he has worked so hard to earn!). I do have my buddy, Stacey, who offered to be the bully in my place. I may have to talk to her about that. You would think that I knew enough nurses in Farmington, I could find one to really help my mom. I wish that her insurance would still pay for the Home Health Nurse that was coming to clean her foot once a week. She was friendly, and offered to draw blood for mom's labs the day before a doctor visit, and was just so helpful. She called herself a "mosquito" compared to the "vampires" at the clinics.
It isn't really that Mom is getting deficient care. She has been sufficiently cared for when she sees the doctors, and when she has been in the hospital. It is that she is not receiving information up front. She has to find out about available information from other sources, and beg the doctors' offices for it. Free information that could help her understand what is going on with her kidneys, and what it means to be on dialysis for the rest of her life, what is involved with getting a new kidney by transplant. Information that I have come to feel that they should be giving her. She has been frustrated not to receive it until (in some cases after) it was vital to her treatment.
If this was some unknown virus or rare disease, I could see the doctors not sharing information, because they may not know it. In the case of a normal diabetic woman having a normal kidney failure, I am infuriated that they have not told her more, as far back as 10 years ago. She has been in the hospital several times in the past five years or so, and more than once, they feared for her life. They (the hospital staff) didn't recommend to my Dad and Bro that they call me. They (again, the hospital staff) never tried to contact me. Bro usually called, wanting me to know, and knowing that Dad may not need to be the one calling me because he was caring for his wife. At the same time, they (Bro and Dad) always told me not to come yet. I guess they wanted to save me a trip when I could do nothing to improve the situation. That excuse won't last forever.
Flea, I have to tell you, I had nothing personal against the little opossum. He/she was just another thing that ran away from the light. I don't set out to destroy anything. Stuff like spiders, ants, mosquitoes, June bugs and other flying insects or creepy crawlies have to invade my space first, and by doing so, invite Death to the party. Although I would be the first to shoot a squirrel if I could get away with it within City limits. They have put holes in my roof which became holes in my ceiling. I would love to pelt them all (That is funny, pelt. That is what DH and I say about dead things in the road...we call them all pelts. Um... I guess the pun was intended.) with paint balls or pellets. I would have the dogs in the neighboring yards cheering me on.
Instead of Complaining, I need a really big Smooffee.
Today's word is: tschotschke
/chach"keh/ noun
From Merriam-Webster online at http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/tchotchke
Yiddish for trinket, from obsolete Polish czaczko. Useless bauble, pretty but trivial. Cheap gewgaw.
When I got married, my friend told me she wanted to get me something useful, not some tschotschke that would be gathering dust on a shelf I didn't have.
~~~~~~~~~~~
First of all, thank you all. For caring about me, and really paying attention to my blabbering. It is refreshing and very important to me.
For those of you sweet enough to suggest that Mom find a new doctor, I regret to inform you that Farmington, New Mexico isn't the biggest town, and no, there is no other specialist that she can see there. To get another requires a different city. Albuquerque is probably the biggest and nearest option, but that would require a lot of driving that she can't do, or moving the household that Dad can't do for another 4 years (when he can collect the retirement money he has worked so hard to earn!). I do have my buddy, Stacey, who offered to be the bully in my place. I may have to talk to her about that. You would think that I knew enough nurses in Farmington, I could find one to really help my mom. I wish that her insurance would still pay for the Home Health Nurse that was coming to clean her foot once a week. She was friendly, and offered to draw blood for mom's labs the day before a doctor visit, and was just so helpful. She called herself a "mosquito" compared to the "vampires" at the clinics.
It isn't really that Mom is getting deficient care. She has been sufficiently cared for when she sees the doctors, and when she has been in the hospital. It is that she is not receiving information up front. She has to find out about available information from other sources, and beg the doctors' offices for it. Free information that could help her understand what is going on with her kidneys, and what it means to be on dialysis for the rest of her life, what is involved with getting a new kidney by transplant. Information that I have come to feel that they should be giving her. She has been frustrated not to receive it until (in some cases after) it was vital to her treatment.
If this was some unknown virus or rare disease, I could see the doctors not sharing information, because they may not know it. In the case of a normal diabetic woman having a normal kidney failure, I am infuriated that they have not told her more, as far back as 10 years ago. She has been in the hospital several times in the past five years or so, and more than once, they feared for her life. They (the hospital staff) didn't recommend to my Dad and Bro that they call me. They (again, the hospital staff) never tried to contact me. Bro usually called, wanting me to know, and knowing that Dad may not need to be the one calling me because he was caring for his wife. At the same time, they (Bro and Dad) always told me not to come yet. I guess they wanted to save me a trip when I could do nothing to improve the situation. That excuse won't last forever.
Flea, I have to tell you, I had nothing personal against the little opossum. He/she was just another thing that ran away from the light. I don't set out to destroy anything. Stuff like spiders, ants, mosquitoes, June bugs and other flying insects or creepy crawlies have to invade my space first, and by doing so, invite Death to the party. Although I would be the first to shoot a squirrel if I could get away with it within City limits. They have put holes in my roof which became holes in my ceiling. I would love to pelt them all (That is funny, pelt. That is what DH and I say about dead things in the road...we call them all pelts. Um... I guess the pun was intended.) with paint balls or pellets. I would have the dogs in the neighboring yards cheering me on.
Instead of Complaining, I need a really big Smooffee.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Personal Foul On The Offense, Five Yard Penalty, Repeat The Down!
Fall has begun dropping her leaves, and DH leaves me on Friday evenings for his Football radio show. My hopes of a Friday night date are crushed for 12 weeks every fall. This year, he got a raise for this part-time fun gig, and he even gets a week off so that we can go to a wedding. This is year number 11. Yes, he has been doing this since before we got engaged. So, I should probably not complain, as I knew this was coming.
I have a little wooden sign that says "we interrupt this marriage for Football Season!", and it is kinda true. Not only do I have to ignore the fantasy leagues, I have to find things to do on my own once a week. (Yeah, that is so hard, let me tell you. Lots of reading goes on in these 12 weeks.) I remember the guys that were doing this in the beginning announced our engagement the weekend after it happened, and our wedding the next year. The whole state knew we were attached. The on-air talent has changed, and the method of recording reports from guys who were at the games has gone computerized, but the fun is still there. I no longer go with DH (I did go with him the first 2 or 3 years), because this is his thing, and I really belive that he needs a few things that are his alone.
Tonight, I was planning to sit at home and write a post, not unlike this one. Then I got an invitation to be with friends this evening, and I jumped at the chance. I drove to meet them at a restaurant that had been recommended to them, and it was in between our homes.
I don't usually write about my dining experiences. They usually aren't terribly exciting, or excitingly terrible. Tonight, however, was a new low.
I bet my wonderful friends would have paid for me if I hadn't taken it upon myself to tell the waitress we were dutch. I didn't get an argument from them, but I didn't want to assume anything. We all ordered our drinks. When she came back, we ordered our food, and my friends ordered an appetizer to share for the table. The appetizer came. Before our drinks. That, I think, was the highlight of our evening. The appetizer was chips and queso and salsa. The salsa was a thick tomato, with cumin in it. It was hot enough to be interesting, but not painful. Jody called it a spaghetti sauce with cumin; I suppose he wasn't impressed. The cheese was good. The chips were fresh, though quite a few of them were soft and greasy.
The food, once it showed up, was all lukewarm to cold. That was good for Belle, who is two, and needed her screaming hot chicken tenders cooled, but it was kinda queasy for the rest of us. We had to ask three times to get the five extra napkins we got. (notice we had a two year old at the table) Jody sent his food back, because he rightfully expected hot brisket and ribs. I had a burger that was insulated by green chiles, two cheeses and a slightly toasted bun. It was a little more pink than I prefer, but I wasn't going to be trouble for the situation. I try to be congenial, but sometimes the patience is tested.
So the service wasn't that great. The food wasn't great. The whole experience was mediocre. Good friends, good company. All in all, it was a fun trip, and a learning experience. We won't be eating at that location (2nd Street in Edmond) of Steve's Rib again anytime soon. Next time Jody wants BBQ, I am going to insist on Swadley's. Or Earl's Rib Palace.
When I came home, I thought it was a cat that was at the end of my driveway. It was kinda silvery, and it cringed, and ran back up toward the house. Then, I saw it's tail. It was an opossum in my driveway. Poor thing must have thought I was chasing it with my car. It ran all the way up the driveway, and through one of the gates to get into our backyard (or maybe the neighbor's yard, as the gates are side by side). No wonder the dogs in the area go bonkers at random times. There are squirrels, rabbits, and now opossums in my yard, and a fence to keep the dogs out.
I have been busy this week with loafing around. In this case, it would have been better if that meant I was making bread. Nope. Just sitting here, trying not to get sick (drank too much milk this week), and doing as little real work as I can get away with. I have joined Facebook, but I like Blogger better so far. But, hey, I can keep up superficially with so many more people now. I have tracked down a few people from my high school, and I have discovered a few shorter degrees of separation among my friends.
Please pray for my mom. Her doctors are not telling her all she needs to know about her kidney issues. She is pretty irritated with them right now. She will start on dialysis at the beginning of October, and is on a list to get a machine of some sort. I don't know much about it yet, but I am going to learn as much as I can, and hopefully share information she hasn't been given yet.
I wish sometimes that I could win the lottery like Earl on TV... I would pay for Mom and Dad to move wherever she needed to be, most likely closer to me. I would make sure that Dad could retire comfortably, and they could finish traveling to all the states... Mom still has to see Florida and Alaska. And I would bring a lawsuit to end all lawsuits against the doctors who are helping her suffer by not sharing what she needs to know about her condition. I know in my head that it wouldn't help, but in my heart I know that getting them put out of business might actually save lives. I want my Mom out of the small town that doesn't know what to do with her. I want her in a place where I can be the bully she needs on her side...I just want to be close to my family. This living a long day's drive away is really bothering me right now.
Jody's wife Lisa told me she was a Nervous Nancy, and she wasn't going to sleep well tonight, worrying over her family in the path of Hurricane Ike. I have family in his path as well, and I understand her totally. She was a sweetie and walked me to my car (as any good mother/Nervous Nancy would do) after our dinner. I think we were all ready to go home after our unsatisfying meal.
Home is a nice place to be. Even if the animals are trying to take over.
I have a little wooden sign that says "we interrupt this marriage for Football Season!", and it is kinda true. Not only do I have to ignore the fantasy leagues, I have to find things to do on my own once a week. (Yeah, that is so hard, let me tell you. Lots of reading goes on in these 12 weeks.) I remember the guys that were doing this in the beginning announced our engagement the weekend after it happened, and our wedding the next year. The whole state knew we were attached. The on-air talent has changed, and the method of recording reports from guys who were at the games has gone computerized, but the fun is still there. I no longer go with DH (I did go with him the first 2 or 3 years), because this is his thing, and I really belive that he needs a few things that are his alone.
Tonight, I was planning to sit at home and write a post, not unlike this one. Then I got an invitation to be with friends this evening, and I jumped at the chance. I drove to meet them at a restaurant that had been recommended to them, and it was in between our homes.
I don't usually write about my dining experiences. They usually aren't terribly exciting, or excitingly terrible. Tonight, however, was a new low.
I bet my wonderful friends would have paid for me if I hadn't taken it upon myself to tell the waitress we were dutch. I didn't get an argument from them, but I didn't want to assume anything. We all ordered our drinks. When she came back, we ordered our food, and my friends ordered an appetizer to share for the table. The appetizer came. Before our drinks. That, I think, was the highlight of our evening. The appetizer was chips and queso and salsa. The salsa was a thick tomato, with cumin in it. It was hot enough to be interesting, but not painful. Jody called it a spaghetti sauce with cumin; I suppose he wasn't impressed. The cheese was good. The chips were fresh, though quite a few of them were soft and greasy.
The food, once it showed up, was all lukewarm to cold. That was good for Belle, who is two, and needed her screaming hot chicken tenders cooled, but it was kinda queasy for the rest of us. We had to ask three times to get the five extra napkins we got. (notice we had a two year old at the table) Jody sent his food back, because he rightfully expected hot brisket and ribs. I had a burger that was insulated by green chiles, two cheeses and a slightly toasted bun. It was a little more pink than I prefer, but I wasn't going to be trouble for the situation. I try to be congenial, but sometimes the patience is tested.
So the service wasn't that great. The food wasn't great. The whole experience was mediocre. Good friends, good company. All in all, it was a fun trip, and a learning experience. We won't be eating at that location (2nd Street in Edmond) of Steve's Rib again anytime soon. Next time Jody wants BBQ, I am going to insist on Swadley's. Or Earl's Rib Palace.
When I came home, I thought it was a cat that was at the end of my driveway. It was kinda silvery, and it cringed, and ran back up toward the house. Then, I saw it's tail. It was an opossum in my driveway. Poor thing must have thought I was chasing it with my car. It ran all the way up the driveway, and through one of the gates to get into our backyard (or maybe the neighbor's yard, as the gates are side by side). No wonder the dogs in the area go bonkers at random times. There are squirrels, rabbits, and now opossums in my yard, and a fence to keep the dogs out.
I have been busy this week with loafing around. In this case, it would have been better if that meant I was making bread. Nope. Just sitting here, trying not to get sick (drank too much milk this week), and doing as little real work as I can get away with. I have joined Facebook, but I like Blogger better so far. But, hey, I can keep up superficially with so many more people now. I have tracked down a few people from my high school, and I have discovered a few shorter degrees of separation among my friends.
Please pray for my mom. Her doctors are not telling her all she needs to know about her kidney issues. She is pretty irritated with them right now. She will start on dialysis at the beginning of October, and is on a list to get a machine of some sort. I don't know much about it yet, but I am going to learn as much as I can, and hopefully share information she hasn't been given yet.
I wish sometimes that I could win the lottery like Earl on TV... I would pay for Mom and Dad to move wherever she needed to be, most likely closer to me. I would make sure that Dad could retire comfortably, and they could finish traveling to all the states... Mom still has to see Florida and Alaska. And I would bring a lawsuit to end all lawsuits against the doctors who are helping her suffer by not sharing what she needs to know about her condition. I know in my head that it wouldn't help, but in my heart I know that getting them put out of business might actually save lives. I want my Mom out of the small town that doesn't know what to do with her. I want her in a place where I can be the bully she needs on her side...I just want to be close to my family. This living a long day's drive away is really bothering me right now.
Jody's wife Lisa told me she was a Nervous Nancy, and she wasn't going to sleep well tonight, worrying over her family in the path of Hurricane Ike. I have family in his path as well, and I understand her totally. She was a sweetie and walked me to my car (as any good mother/Nervous Nancy would do) after our dinner. I think we were all ready to go home after our unsatisfying meal.
Home is a nice place to be. Even if the animals are trying to take over.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Party All The Time
For those interested in my meager little life, I have been so busy lately. I have hardly had a moment's rest, a bit of peace.
There are some bright spots in the world. This one, for instance.
This was Gum Drop (SIL looking on and balancing him from behind) at his First Birthday Party. He is in his own Chiefs Jersey Onesie (Hi, Sally!), and opening our present to him. He had the best time! He got so much more messy than his sister did at her first party. The party was all Chiefs, and the party cake was a football field, complete with players. His own personal cake was a football.
Pure Joy.
His hair did a flyaway crazy 'do after his chocolate bath. I didn't get a picture of the muddy looking bathwater, mostly because it was too gross. Got to love the kiddos.
The next bright spot is this one.
Jelly Bean is now 3, and her Third Birthday Party was Care Bears. She picked it herself. There were balloons, cake and lemonade, and lots of presents! There were goodie bags that JB gave to her friends, with Baby Gummy Bears in there. So tasty!
This one moves so much and so often, I rarely get a good picture of her. Usually I get only hair as she dashes away. This is JB on her requested Birthday Scooter, wearing her requisite Birthday Helmet (that was our contribution). She did very well on the scooter; I even caught it on video (haven't yet figured out how to post those. I promise some in the future).
There have been a few other things going on in my life, too. There was the wonderful visit from my friend, the Georgia Peach. This is Georgia Peach, Roadrunner, and Chelf. (Pay no attention to the BunnyButt in the background)
Georgia Peach came to see a whole bunch of us Clubbies, and brought her two "nieces" (her BFF's two kids) with her. I have several BFF's with children, and I would be willing to bet that none of them would let me take two of their kiddos on a week-long adventure to another state in a rented car. Not without a lot of explaining, and pictures. Georgia is just that awesome of an "Aunt".
There have been the trips to the local swimming hole. This is Roadrunner's little one, I think I shall refer to him as Mr. Bump. He is calamity and daring all in one.
I didn't get a good picture of the older son by himself. I have to think of a nickname that doesn't violate any copyright laws. (Karate Kid is already taken, and it is Tae Kwon Do anyway) Maybe Roadrunner can help me? (BunnyButt suggested "Sauce", but I don't want the kiddo mad at me, either.)
Then there is the Tea Kettle. This little one is Roadrunner's nephew. He screams in a pitch that no boy should ever be allowed to make. It sounds just like her tea kettle. He likes to snuggle, and get me into trouble by crying when I pick him up.
I am now off to two more Birthday Parties tonight. Tomorrow, there is a Wedding Shower I am helping hostess. This busy life is sometimes almost too much. Almost. Then I look at all the little faces around me, and I know....
So very worth it!
There are some bright spots in the world. This one, for instance.
This was Gum Drop (SIL looking on and balancing him from behind) at his First Birthday Party. He is in his own Chiefs Jersey Onesie (Hi, Sally!), and opening our present to him. He had the best time! He got so much more messy than his sister did at her first party. The party was all Chiefs, and the party cake was a football field, complete with players. His own personal cake was a football.Pure Joy.
His hair did a flyaway crazy 'do after his chocolate bath. I didn't get a picture of the muddy looking bathwater, mostly because it was too gross. Got to love the kiddos.
The next bright spot is this one.
Jelly Bean is now 3, and her Third Birthday Party was Care Bears. She picked it herself. There were balloons, cake and lemonade, and lots of presents! There were goodie bags that JB gave to her friends, with Baby Gummy Bears in there. So tasty!This one moves so much and so often, I rarely get a good picture of her. Usually I get only hair as she dashes away. This is JB on her requested Birthday Scooter, wearing her requisite Birthday Helmet (that was our contribution). She did very well on the scooter; I even caught it on video (haven't yet figured out how to post those. I promise some in the future).
There have been a few other things going on in my life, too. There was the wonderful visit from my friend, the Georgia Peach. This is Georgia Peach, Roadrunner, and Chelf. (Pay no attention to the BunnyButt in the background)
Georgia Peach came to see a whole bunch of us Clubbies, and brought her two "nieces" (her BFF's two kids) with her. I have several BFF's with children, and I would be willing to bet that none of them would let me take two of their kiddos on a week-long adventure to another state in a rented car. Not without a lot of explaining, and pictures. Georgia is just that awesome of an "Aunt".There have been the trips to the local swimming hole. This is Roadrunner's little one, I think I shall refer to him as Mr. Bump. He is calamity and daring all in one.
I didn't get a good picture of the older son by himself. I have to think of a nickname that doesn't violate any copyright laws. (Karate Kid is already taken, and it is Tae Kwon Do anyway) Maybe Roadrunner can help me? (BunnyButt suggested "Sauce", but I don't want the kiddo mad at me, either.)Then there is the Tea Kettle. This little one is Roadrunner's nephew. He screams in a pitch that no boy should ever be allowed to make. It sounds just like her tea kettle. He likes to snuggle, and get me into trouble by crying when I pick him up.
I am now off to two more Birthday Parties tonight. Tomorrow, there is a Wedding Shower I am helping hostess. This busy life is sometimes almost too much. Almost. Then I look at all the little faces around me, and I know....So very worth it!
Beware Of Splinters
Word of the Post
Today's word is: dichotomy
/die*cot"o*me/ noun
To cut in two; a division in equal parts; duality; ambivalence.
Knowing the selfish way and the ideal way, but having a balanced argument within yourself to decide which to follow. The brain is comprised of a dichotomy of left and right. Equal and opposite.
The trouble with a dichotomy is that riding the fence is also a decision.
~~~~~~~~~~
I have always known I would have many, many children. They don't have to be physically mine to be "my babies". My plan was to have my own boy and girl, in that order, and then adopt as many as God brought to me. My friend Rob once told me that I was destined to have a girl and then twin boys, for patience. (Cursed sounded more like it back then.) I have since learned that the twin boys did not have to be mine, either. The patience that was built in me may have been for their mother.
Oddly, my dream the other night brought this freshly to mind. The dream was that I had to deal with a specific and unpleasant person from my past. I felt attacked and beaten when I awoke on Sunday. I certainly wasn't prepared to run headlong into a difficult person at church services. (Not the same one I dreamed about, though.)
There are those people who, when given the opportunity to be sweet, will usually choose to be salt in your open wounds. The busybody person who starts every conversation with an offensive question. It makes me wonder why. Does she feel trapped by her responsibilities, and jealous of my freedoms?
Oh, the sarcasm jumps out of me, usually at the worst possible times. It takes a lot of control to keep the words from falling out of me. Every meeting starts with the intrusive "I don't mean to be nosy, but when are you going to have kids?" (If you don't want to be nosy, then please do not finish that thought.), the rude "Don't take this the wrong way, but you need to have children to know about this subject" (Taking those rude statements the wrong way is taking them in what way exactly? How can I take it well to hear that motherhood is some elitist club that refuses to even talk to me?), or my personal favorite "Why didn't you come to Bunco? It wasn't someone in particular, was it? It wasn't me, was it?". (I didn't come to Bunco because it is not the escape I was hoping for. I couldn't escape from you.) I want to scream at her. I can't say these things I think. Too rude, uncalled for. Snappy, but not Christlike.
She now lives in another city. When we see each other, our conversations now consist of the basic "Hi, how are you?". Neither of us cares, and answering "Fine." is the only non-involved, not lying, tactful-without-being-rude answer. Much beyond that, and we are both at a loss for words. I am still without children of my own, and she is still the "perfect" mother of "perfect" twins.
Forgiveness is tough. I know I should forgive her. I don't think she knows how hurtful she really is. I know I should be honest with her, not start with the hateful lashing back that comes to my tongue first. The dichotomy is that I don't want to. I have been hurt, and I still hurt from those wounds. They are fresh, deeply intensely personal, and she continually (while assuming she is helping) is pouring lemon juice on those open emotional sores.
I have "babies" that have graduated college, some were their High School class Valedictorians; are caring and wonderful young adults, and some are still truly babies just beginning the journey; I have seen many styles of parenting; had wonderful conversations with mothers who don't care that I am not a "mother" by the birth of a child, but a "mothering person" by the nature of the love for children. I am a Babysitter of as many as five children at a time, a Teacher to the small, and an Auntie to the two greatest kids to ever live.
Can't I be a pretzel? A little sweet and a little salty. One of my friends told me recently that she had just left church, and was not feeling very Christian right then. She was dealing with a difficult person, too. Those answers are out there, and I continue to look high and low for them. Surprisingly, I bet they are right in front of me. I think I ignore the answer. It is way easier to pretend that everything is OK, when I know it isn't.
The struggle to be true to myself and God's best me is constantly being tested. It may never be my calling to be a mother, like I have so wished for. It may just be that my calling is coming in the future. This must be teaching me patience. Maybe this is for more than myself. It may be that my calling is to be patient with the salty people of the world, that they may learn to be sweet.
Today's word is: dichotomy
/die*cot"o*me/ noun
To cut in two; a division in equal parts; duality; ambivalence.
Knowing the selfish way and the ideal way, but having a balanced argument within yourself to decide which to follow. The brain is comprised of a dichotomy of left and right. Equal and opposite.
The trouble with a dichotomy is that riding the fence is also a decision.
~~~~~~~~~~
I have always known I would have many, many children. They don't have to be physically mine to be "my babies". My plan was to have my own boy and girl, in that order, and then adopt as many as God brought to me. My friend Rob once told me that I was destined to have a girl and then twin boys, for patience. (Cursed sounded more like it back then.) I have since learned that the twin boys did not have to be mine, either. The patience that was built in me may have been for their mother.
Oddly, my dream the other night brought this freshly to mind. The dream was that I had to deal with a specific and unpleasant person from my past. I felt attacked and beaten when I awoke on Sunday. I certainly wasn't prepared to run headlong into a difficult person at church services. (Not the same one I dreamed about, though.)
There are those people who, when given the opportunity to be sweet, will usually choose to be salt in your open wounds. The busybody person who starts every conversation with an offensive question. It makes me wonder why. Does she feel trapped by her responsibilities, and jealous of my freedoms?
Oh, the sarcasm jumps out of me, usually at the worst possible times. It takes a lot of control to keep the words from falling out of me. Every meeting starts with the intrusive "I don't mean to be nosy, but when are you going to have kids?" (If you don't want to be nosy, then please do not finish that thought.), the rude "Don't take this the wrong way, but you need to have children to know about this subject" (Taking those rude statements the wrong way is taking them in what way exactly? How can I take it well to hear that motherhood is some elitist club that refuses to even talk to me?), or my personal favorite "Why didn't you come to Bunco? It wasn't someone in particular, was it? It wasn't me, was it?". (I didn't come to Bunco because it is not the escape I was hoping for. I couldn't escape from you.) I want to scream at her. I can't say these things I think. Too rude, uncalled for. Snappy, but not Christlike.
She now lives in another city. When we see each other, our conversations now consist of the basic "Hi, how are you?". Neither of us cares, and answering "Fine." is the only non-involved, not lying, tactful-without-being-rude answer. Much beyond that, and we are both at a loss for words. I am still without children of my own, and she is still the "perfect" mother of "perfect" twins.
Forgiveness is tough. I know I should forgive her. I don't think she knows how hurtful she really is. I know I should be honest with her, not start with the hateful lashing back that comes to my tongue first. The dichotomy is that I don't want to. I have been hurt, and I still hurt from those wounds. They are fresh, deeply intensely personal, and she continually (while assuming she is helping) is pouring lemon juice on those open emotional sores.
I have "babies" that have graduated college, some were their High School class Valedictorians; are caring and wonderful young adults, and some are still truly babies just beginning the journey; I have seen many styles of parenting; had wonderful conversations with mothers who don't care that I am not a "mother" by the birth of a child, but a "mothering person" by the nature of the love for children. I am a Babysitter of as many as five children at a time, a Teacher to the small, and an Auntie to the two greatest kids to ever live.
Can't I be a pretzel? A little sweet and a little salty. One of my friends told me recently that she had just left church, and was not feeling very Christian right then. She was dealing with a difficult person, too. Those answers are out there, and I continue to look high and low for them. Surprisingly, I bet they are right in front of me. I think I ignore the answer. It is way easier to pretend that everything is OK, when I know it isn't.
The struggle to be true to myself and God's best me is constantly being tested. It may never be my calling to be a mother, like I have so wished for. It may just be that my calling is coming in the future. This must be teaching me patience. Maybe this is for more than myself. It may be that my calling is to be patient with the salty people of the world, that they may learn to be sweet.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Do The Lost Souls Really Congregate In Tulsa?
In the line of deep subjects, I have another that has been eating at my brain for a while. I warn you now, this one is religious. If you don't care, feel free to ignore this post. Seriously. I won't be hurt.
In our Sunday evening services with our church, we have been studying the Deep Subjects of the Bible. The deep questions that people have, and what the Bible says about it all.
I have been to the Tulsa International Soul-Winning Workshop (ISWW) many times over the years. I have gone a few times since I have been on my own, and able to drive myself. I know that good friends of mine have in the past and now live in Tulsa. As it is in Oklahoma, I feel a little more of an attachment to the workshop now that I am an adult. I don't want to make anyone upset. I am just thinking (typing) out loud.
Garnett church of Christ has bowed out of co-managing with Memorial Drive church of Christ. That makes me no never mind, but what is said at the end of this article does bother me. This bit is directly copied, not retyped by me. The quotes are from Terry Rush.
In order to bring people to Christ, the speakers who are invited to share MUST share the same belief in the Bible. I don't think that the Church of Christ (with or without that first C being capitalized) has the lock on salvation. I believe that the Body of Christ ~ His Bride, His Beloved, His church ~ needs to be told in no uncertain terms what is in His Book. Nothing more. Nothing Less. If we do not check what is said against the measure of the Good News, we are likely to be hoodwinked.
Do the elders of Memorial Drive oversee the lessons that are being presented? They should if they do not.
Yes, Mr. Rush. I am smart enough to "discard the rest", because I have read the Bible from an early age. If you want to bring people to Christ, but you start by presenting conflicting views of the message, you will be sowing the seed in rocky soil, and you will be putting the final nail in the coffin of the Workshop with the remaining attendees. Many have already boycotted the festivities, because they are entertainment more than education, and no longer exclusively Bible based. New Converts may not be studied enough to sort out the junk. It is part of your job to offer only speakers that are proven to be God's mouthpieces. By stating that speakers can come in from other brands of faith, you have joined in the Denominational shell game. Which one is right? You lose when you do not show others how to win.
Separating the saved from the church is impossible. The saved ARE the church. The church is not some name on a door; it is the gathering of family, believers to worship God. Your plan to attract people “toward Jesus — not toward the church” is ludicrous. Those people attracted toward Jesus will be added to the church by God. Not "the Church" as a denomination, but the "THE church" as God's chosen bride for Christ. It isn't your job, Mr. Rush, to decide how the message will be received. Your job, sir, is to tell the message without distortion.
What about the people who have never heard the name of Jesus as anything other than in vain? They don't know how to "discard the rest", and they should not have any of "the rest" to discard. If we are preaching Jesus Christ, and Him Crucified, and Raised from the Dead, then there is nothing left to discard.
I do not claim to know all there is to know about God's plans for me, but going to Tulsa's ISWW is probably not going to be in the works anymore.
In our Sunday evening services with our church, we have been studying the Deep Subjects of the Bible. The deep questions that people have, and what the Bible says about it all.
I have been to the Tulsa International Soul-Winning Workshop (ISWW) many times over the years. I have gone a few times since I have been on my own, and able to drive myself. I know that good friends of mine have in the past and now live in Tulsa. As it is in Oklahoma, I feel a little more of an attachment to the workshop now that I am an adult. I don't want to make anyone upset. I am just thinking (typing) out loud.
Garnett church of Christ has bowed out of co-managing with Memorial Drive church of Christ. That makes me no never mind, but what is said at the end of this article does bother me. This bit is directly copied, not retyped by me. The quotes are from Terry Rush.
At a session titled “The Future Direction of the Workshop,” Rush also discussed the workshop’s practice of inviting speakers from outside Churches of Christ. The minister stressed that the direction of the workshop is “toward Jesus — not toward the church.”Now, I am not going to tell you that ONLY the Church of Christ (as a denomination) is going to heaven. I don't believe that. I have discussed those opinions before, and you can look it up, or we can have another conversation about it on email, whatever you like. However, I do believe that drawing people to Christ first requires knowing Christ, and what the speakers believe about Him, and how they will speak.
To that end, workshop coordinators will continue to invite speakers that will inspire attendees to win souls for Christ, he said.
“You are smart enough to sort out the things that are valuable to you and discard the rest,” Rush said.
In order to bring people to Christ, the speakers who are invited to share MUST share the same belief in the Bible. I don't think that the Church of Christ (with or without that first C being capitalized) has the lock on salvation. I believe that the Body of Christ ~ His Bride, His Beloved, His church ~ needs to be told in no uncertain terms what is in His Book. Nothing more. Nothing Less. If we do not check what is said against the measure of the Good News, we are likely to be hoodwinked.
Do the elders of Memorial Drive oversee the lessons that are being presented? They should if they do not.
Yes, Mr. Rush. I am smart enough to "discard the rest", because I have read the Bible from an early age. If you want to bring people to Christ, but you start by presenting conflicting views of the message, you will be sowing the seed in rocky soil, and you will be putting the final nail in the coffin of the Workshop with the remaining attendees. Many have already boycotted the festivities, because they are entertainment more than education, and no longer exclusively Bible based. New Converts may not be studied enough to sort out the junk. It is part of your job to offer only speakers that are proven to be God's mouthpieces. By stating that speakers can come in from other brands of faith, you have joined in the Denominational shell game. Which one is right? You lose when you do not show others how to win.
Separating the saved from the church is impossible. The saved ARE the church. The church is not some name on a door; it is the gathering of family, believers to worship God. Your plan to attract people “toward Jesus — not toward the church” is ludicrous. Those people attracted toward Jesus will be added to the church by God. Not "the Church" as a denomination, but the "THE church" as God's chosen bride for Christ. It isn't your job, Mr. Rush, to decide how the message will be received. Your job, sir, is to tell the message without distortion.
What about the people who have never heard the name of Jesus as anything other than in vain? They don't know how to "discard the rest", and they should not have any of "the rest" to discard. If we are preaching Jesus Christ, and Him Crucified, and Raised from the Dead, then there is nothing left to discard.
I do not claim to know all there is to know about God's plans for me, but going to Tulsa's ISWW is probably not going to be in the works anymore.
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