CHELF SPACE

Today Is The Day

2011-05-24T08:50:00.005-05:00

Today is the day that I get up before 10, because I have things to do.
Today is the day that I find the smell in the kitchen, and clean it.
Today is the day that I do all the laundry in the house, and get it folded and put away.
Today is the day that I clean the living room, and set up the couch pieces that currently reside in the garage.
Today is the day that I call a service to clear trees in my back yard, trim/remove bushes in the front yard, and get some sod to resurface the yard.
Today is the day that I find a tile guy to redecorate the bath. Maybe he can frame the garage door on the side of the house, too.
Today is the day I stop wasting money on the gym I never bother to go to anymore.
Today is the day that I blog again.
Today is the day that I finally start up my novel.... again.
Today is the day that I stop eating for two, even though I am not pregnant.
Today is the day that I allow myself to say NO when someone asks me to do something I am not really wanting to do.
Today is the day that I stop making lists, and start working.

I think about many of these things every morning. And I get up out of bed. And I sit down in my spot on the couch, and open the computer. And it is then that I realize my addiction. I haven't blogged for MONTHS, I haven't cleaned beyond what is necessary to live, I haven't done much of anything! I have stared at Facebook. Whew! Need to stop that now.

This blog post will probably be posted to Facebook, as well. Why? Because I am that addicted.

In my professional life, I have almost always had a clean desk. It may be stacked with work, but I can always find the random piece for someone else. In my personal life, I can't say anything about organized. I have never had a good routine at home. I noticed that when I worked outside the home, the home was cleaner. I had to keep a routine!

When I was a child, our home was always cluttered. Mom and Dad both were pack rats in their own ways. Mom was a Collector, and I have that strong gene in me. I want this thing because it will match/coordinate with X, Y and Z at home. Dad was the Insulator, the one who said, "This is useful, and if I throw it out, I will need it tomorrow. I can fix that." Mom had Coca-Cola memorabilia all over the house, and a collection of lighthouses, and the collection of videos. The list grows larger every time I see what I brought home from her house. I have cookbooks, and books of every other sort. I have Precious Moments figurines, and things I have collected over the years since I left home. I also have broken computers, and parts to things I don't even remember a use for.

I can remember a time when my room was the cleanest in the house. It was a very short time. And probably right before I left for college.

All this rambling is to say that I have let the house run away without me. I have no control over the contents. The S.T.U.F.F. (from Flylady: Stuff That Undermines Family Fun) has taken over, multiplied like so many bunnies, and I am feeling crushed.

Today is the day. Today is another day in which I spend a minimum of 15 uninterrupted minutes cleaning ONE area. Dishes, probably. Sadly, Laundry and Dishes are my go-to chores. The first things I do, until I get tired and give up. I also have a goal of emptying one box. Open it, decide where things go and put them there, fold box flat and take it to my friend who is packing her home to move. Trash things... Donate things... Clean things... Find purpose or love in every THING I keep.

Psalm 118:24 (English Standard Version)

This is the day that the LORD has made;
let us rejoice and be glad in it.

So, Today is The Day.

Today is the day that I stop worrying about what others think.
Today is the day that I give up hounding myself over chores undone.
Today is the day that I allow myself to make mistakes, and be fine with that.
Today is the day that I write again.
Today is the day that I think again.
Today is the day that I water the plants. Hey, I have plants... that have survived me for over a year!
Today is the day that I stop allowing the rabbit trails to distract me.

Today is the day that I thank God for every thing I have, all I can do.
Today is the day that I expect great things from God.

Snake Eyes, I Lose; Lucky Seven, God Wins

2010-08-29T03:01:00.006-05:00

So I wrote my post about a Garden... and started it overnight, like I do many of these posts. I scheduled it to post the next day, June 1, 2010.

You know, LIFE is a gamble. We roll the dice, and get surprises all the time. Having babies, finding THE ONE to spend it all with, death, taxes... all have a way of just showing up when you least expect them, and whether you want them or not.

The surprise for me for June 1 was that my Dad died.

Yes, four months after my Mom passed away.

Yes, I was, to say the least, devastated.

I am still fighting the depression. I am still struggling to understand it all. I am not in a good place these days. But... I went back and read the entry after Mom died. I really do know who my friends are. I really know they are still around. I really know that I have no clue what life will bring next, tomorrow, or eventually.

I really know that my parents were certain that I was going to be OK. Maybe not today, probably not tomorrow, but soon enough, and for a long time. They raised me to be strong, self-sufficient, and persevering. They raised me to care, so they knew this would not be easy.

Dad died of Stage 4 Renal (Kidney) Cancer... and heart failure due to the fluid building up around his heart and lungs. That fluid was more cancer, trying to take over. When they found him, collapsed in the hospital room, they tried to revive him. Three doctors tried CPR. His body had given up the fight... and I am pretty certain his spirit had lost the will to live. His "fight" died with Mom. Sis said that when she and Bro went to go identify his body (uh, really?), that he had a smile on his face... an amazingly happy smile, that they had not seen in months. I think he knew where he was going, and that Mom was waiting there for him.

I never had any doubt that if there is a heaven (like I believe there is) and if any human has any chance of going there (I believe that Jesus gives us that chance), then my parents were going there. Others have told me they thought the same. My parents believed, and used every moment to live out that belief. They shared their meager blessings with any in need, even when it meant not eating as much for dinner that night. Dad fixed stuff. He tinkered around and found new life in things like cars, refrigerators and washing machines. Mom taught children for many years, and only retired when her lack of health forced her to. They showed Jesus to everyone they came in contact with. Their lives were bold and unashamed, yet simple and sparing.

We had a Memorial Service for Dad on June 26. I made it very clear to the officiant that there was to be no preaching. Mom's memorial was too "come to Jesus" for my taste. I don't think she wanted a church service, she would have preferred a good old-fashioned "singing". So we modified Dad's service to be more fun, more stories about him, and less "churchy". There were scriptures read, and there were a few preachy thoughts, but they were balanced, and not a "final call" for those in attendance. It made his brother laugh, which made me very happy.

Dad was a simple man, but never stupid. He learned all he could about everything. He knew amazing amounts of trivia, but could still talk to a child. He knew much about the Bible and the church, and could discuss the most in-depth meat-and-potatoes subjects, but he also knew the milk basics. He had very little tolerance for the milquetoast mediocrity that so many people have these days. He had an amazing vocabulary, and often used my spelling words within a week of my getting them when I was a child. I learned from him, and not from school or even Sunday School, the meanings of words like "usurp", "delineate" and "propitiation".

Dad used his knowledge of the medical field, that he gained in Vietnam, to help Mom. When she had toes removed, he learned how to dress her wounds. This meant that the nurse, who would have to visit other patients on a daily basis, could come just once a week to clean and measure and check the wounds. Dad was always very careful with Mom, and precise about her medications. He built his own graph to track her blood sugar and pressure levels, and what medicines he gave her.

I knew my Dad had preached a few times. He had notes from several of those lessons. I suppose I could ask the church for recordings, if I got brave enough to listen to them. One of the note papers had a kite design on the back. Dad was always doodling. He enjoyed kites, and designed his own box kite. He was pretty impressed with himself, until he found a book with a picture of his kite on the front of it. He hadn't known that others had designed this style of kite before him.

He also designed and printed his own targets for his shooting. Dad was an excellent marksman, and was always learning more about being a gunsmith. His hobby was to buy old military surplus, or antiques, and shine them up, and reload ammo for them. He had black powder rifles, and BB guns. He had rubber-band repeat shooters, and dart guns and even a crossbow. He built his own stocks for barrels he had, and taught my Bro and me how to use, clean and respect firearms. He was mindful of the Second Amendment to the Constitution, and how it protected the First.

Mom had never met a stranger, they were all just friends she was not yet acquainted with. Dad had never enjoyed crowds, but tolerated them for Mom's sake. After she died, he was very quick to say, "I am done now. Goodnight." and leave. Abruptly. And I think that is how he ended his life, as well.

Bro and I followed through with Dad's wishes to be cremated, like Mom was. We decided that we never thought of them as separate, but together. Their marriage really was a unity. So, we had their ashes mixed together, and then split in half, so each of us could do what we wished with the remains. My portion of Mom and Dad still sit in the box in the pretty felt bag I got from the funeral home in NM. Sis bought a beautiful box to put the remains in... and I will move them... eventually. I have offered part of my half to Mom's two sisters, if they wish to scatter some of the ashes in some special place that means something to them.

All in all, this year has been horrible. And wonderful. Yes, I lost both my parents, rather unexpectedly. But I have found parts of myself that had formerly lay dormant inside. I am much stronger than I ever thought I could be. I have positive outlooks where once only depression lived. I have deeper friendships, and pals who are closer now. I have recently come out of the fog.

The sunshine hurts my eyes, but my skin is soaking up the vitamins. The important things and people in my life are more precious. The less important and downright unnecessary are gradually removing themselves from my space. I can move now (I joined Curves with a friend to add motion to my weeks), where all I did for months was sit and stew in my misery. I can breathe. There is still a weight on my shoulders, but it gets easier to lift every day.

It isn't easy. Mother's Day and Mom's Birthday (she would have been 65) came and went, and I was a mess. Father's Day and my parents' Anniversary (this would have been 40 years) came and went, and I pretended I wasn't a mess. But I was. I still have to face Dad's Birthday (he was going to be 63 this year), and hear all the comments about how I am "too young to face this". I have to think that they died too young, but they had full, rich lives filled with faith, family, and fun. I know people who lost their parents when they were teens... THAT is too young. I don't feel too young at 36. I wasn't ready, but I don't know that anyone can be really ready for this.

My big "regret", if I ever were to hold those, is that I never got the opportunity to give them grandchildren. Infertility sucks when you desperately want a child. Mom had pretty much decided that she would never get any grandchildren. I don't know which hurt more, knowing I couldn't give her what she wanted, or that she had resigned the wanting. Either way, if I ever do have any children now, they will never get to know my parents. And that will be a deficit for my kids, because my parents were awesome people.

From the day they met to the day they married: 4 months.
From the day she died to the day he died: 4 months.

I really believe this is no accident.

This weekend is one year since I squashed grapes, and blogged about it. I believe that it is no accident that I should feel the need to blog now. I got a bottle of the Chateau L'Feet, and pondered the spiritual applications of wine. I was thinking about God, and what it meant to share these thoughts with you. And I think that maybe this blogging thing can come back to me. Slowly. Don't go expecting a new entry every day, or even every week. But please keep checking in on me. I am working on making my life as much of a testimony as my parents gave.

My friend Laura Speaker shared that her family philosophy about death is this: When we go to the garden and pick flowers for our table, we pick the most beautiful, the most vibrant flowers. The ones that end up as our centerpiece are at their peak of bloom, color and scent. Why do we expect God to do any less? The best, brightest and most beautiful flowers in His creation are the ones he picks to come home first. They get to set the table for the rest of us. That table is going to be the most welcoming thing about Heaven.

When I go, I want to have a smile on my face in the last moments. I want people to sing a few songs, bring a few flowers and remember that I tried.

Oh, and make sure to pour a glass of wine. Cheers!

Chateau L'Feet, Vintage 2009, Baby Toes. White Wine. "And I helped!"

2010-08-29T01:51:00.003-05:00

Last year, I went to Tres Suenos Winery, and harvested and stomped grapes. This weekend, I got the bottle of that wine.

They call it Chateau L'Feet. Yes, we stomped a few gallons of grapes in the bottom of a 50 gallon drum. I call it Baby Toes, because of a little boy, who was fine stomping, until he realized that he was IN a 50 gallon drum. And it was taller than he was, and he couldn't see anything but grapes and mommy's knees. He started screaming, so they took him out of the drum. He stomped all the way up the side, still having fun, I think, but just a little scared with claustrophobia in the drum. Who can blame his cute little toes? Not me.

"You aren't gonna drink that, are you?" several people asked. Some of them were grossed out by the thought, as if the fact that my feet, and the feet of many others touched those grapes, and it might taste of feet. Some of them were sounding wistful, as if they would take it and drink it if I didn't want it. The idea is the same. Did I have plans to just let the bottle sit some more, or was I planning to drink it?

I honestly don't know yet. I was planning on drinking it. The BOTTLE is what is important to me. The label has MY NAME on it. This wine was helped by ME, and the bottle was labeled just for ME. The bottle will end up as a centerpiece on a shelf of my bottle collection. I think it would be a dirty shame NOT to drink the wine I helped create. A full bottle of wine is heavy, and the shelf will be heavy enough with all those glass bottles on it.

I pondered God last year, about vines and the vinedresser, and the harvest and how it all was used as a "flannelgram" to teach the church about God's care for His people. This year, I ponder the wine. The waiting. The Becoming.

I wonder how wine was made in Bible times. Didn't they generally squish the grapes by walking in them? Doesn't the age and the fermentation take care of whatever icky stuff was hanging on? Basically, the fact that it is alcohol should kill any germs from any feet in the grapes, right?

When Jesus turned water into wine, I have to believe it was good stuff. The host of the party said it was good, and he wondered why the best stuff was saved for the end of the party. Seems they usually served good stuff to get you happily drunk, and then switched to the cheap stuff, because after you are drunk, you really don't care what you drink, as long as the glasses keep getting filled. Having never been drunk, I have no idea if this is so. I just know what I like, and usually wine isn't it.

The winemakers are a family of God-believing people. They are genuinely nice. They treat their growers with courtesy and respect. They follow the laws of the land, and check the I.D.'s provided by their visitors. They have a fair business, and they make impressive wines, award winning wines. I didn't realize how much I liked sweet wines until I tasted the dry wines they offer. (Ugh. Dry is just too tart for me.) And I didn't ever think I would have a "favorite" wine, knowing how much I detest grape juice in general. Some days, getting through communion on Sunday is tough. And that is one thimble full of Welch's 100% Grape. Usually purple, Concord grape juice. And more often than not, on the verge of being wine (or maybe vinegar is a closer description). Yuck.

Whenever this might happen, I do plan to drink the wine. I might even share a little with Jeff, if he is brave enough to try it. The empty bottle will be my prize. I missed this year, because I checked into it too late. Next year, I plan to do this at least once, maybe twice. I plan to get more bottles of Chateau L'Feet, maybe in RED next time!

This year has been a crazy, tumultuous, lost and even blessed sort of year. All this time, that wine was in a cask, and then in the bottle. Sitting. Waiting. Fermenting. Becoming.

How can it be good if I do not taste it? Consuming the wine seems to be the POINT of it all.

I think this year has been some fire, refining me like gold. This year has not been the calm waiting on God, like the wine. Maybe the coming year will be calm, like the fermentation hold. But then, fermenting is a process, and I bet the chemical transformation is anything but calm. Maybe I HAVE been the wine. I have gone through a transformation, and I will never be the same. A little more tart, a little more rich, a little more depth to my "character". A little fruity note, a little spicy note... some time spent in the cool of the cask, some time squeezed into the smaller space of a bottle.

All the while wondering... Who will find me? Who will taste, and see that the Lord is good? Who will appreciate my more subtle qualities? Will I be the bottle that has had feet in it? (I certainly felt stomped this year!) Has this process cleansed my impurities? Am I sweeter for the time spent, or am I a dry finish?

I don't know all the answers. I know the ONE who holds the answers, and He hasn't really been sharing them with me. I guess I get to do what my Dad always told me to do: Hide and Watch. So, I hide in the shadow of the wings of the Most High, and I watch to see what becomes of me. I am fermenting. I am being enriched by the waiting. I am Becoming a fine wine from the Lord's vineyard.

How SWEET its that?

Pondering A Garden

2010-06-01T12:14:00.000-05:00

While thinking about the possibility of gardening, I have thought a lot about God. I am sure this is no surprise to anyone who has a garden, but for those of us who have no idea how to garden, this is a big deal. I Corinthians 3:6: "I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow." I know this verse is referring to the Gospel being shared and churches being "planted", but I think it fits here, too. I may plant the seed, and Jeff may water, but God will make it grow.

My first thought is that God placed us in a garden. Adam and Eve had every kind of fruit, veggie and flower to tend. This makes me wonder if there is something built into us that makes us want to garden. Is there some desire to work to make things grow? I am fascinated by watching God give life to a little seed, and give me plants to eat. Much like watching a baby grow, I can't help but wonder at the awesome God we serve.

Second, I have realized how much I dislike heat. After the fall, God told Adam that he would eat "by the sweat of his brow". This "sweat" is minor to the burn of the sun that my skin is so quick to inflict upon me. I don't know how to keep plants alive. My mother drowned a cactus, because she didn't realize that one should only water it when it is raining in the desert. The only plants she ever managed to keep alive were the parachute fern and the bamboo.

Third, I have decided that I am late to the game. I should not try to plant now, as the season for planting is far past. My goal this year is to clear the area, and turn the soil. If I enrich it now, it will be ready for next year's planting. Gardening takes more than just putting a seed on the ground. It takes WORK (I have decided I am allergic to this "work" stuff...), and planning and determination. I have to decide what veggies to plant, and which plants can help others to grow bigger, sweeter, or more fruitful. I don't want to plant only tomatoes. I want squash, lettuce, carrots, corn, cucumbers... and I want to work on the roses I have discovered in my yard!

Fourth, and final for this note, I have to get dirty. Removing weeds is hard work, and messy. I have to turn up the dirt to allow in more air, water and sun, so that the plants I desire have plenty of those and room to grow. If I want to keep a pretty manicure, I do not need to bother to garden. If I want my table full of locally grown fresh fruits and veggies, I need to get down and dirty in the garden.

The Deafening Silence, Pregnant With Chaos

2010-05-22T09:00:00.012-05:00

This year has not been about resolutions, even though I made a few. So far, it has been a year of great things (Terrible, yes...but great).

There is a country song by Tracy Lawrence that talks about hitting the bumps in the road and what you learn from it. He starts by talking about the bad things that happen, and then he reminds us that we "Find out who your friends are". The bit of lyrics that has humbled me this year is "they just show on up with their big old heart". I have had some bad things knock me down this year. I have also been blessed to be shown who my friends are. They showed on up, with their big old hearts and their open wallets and their soft prayers.

Last year, I kept putting off the writing. I don't know why. Maybe I had some sort of knowledge that this was going to be a blank time for my mind, and that left me with a blank page. It has happened before. When I was young, I knew something was wrong with my world, but for the life of me I could not give you an answer as to what it was. I was just sensing it. Impending doom. Dread. My grades went from straight A's to mainly D's and F's. At the end of January 1989, my grandmother died from kidney failure and complications from her Diabetes. And the morning after she died (peacefully in her sleep), I told my mother that we needed to call and talk to family, because Grandmother was feeling better today. As she was moving toward the phone, it rang and an aunt gave us the news. Empathy is a crippling gift, sometimes. When I can actually, not just figuratively but literally, FEEL what someone else feels it can be scary. Unfortunately, it doesn't come with a business card telling me the name of the hurting person around me.

So since squishing grapes, and a little after that, I have not written anything more than grocery lists.

This time, it was a lot closer, and the odd feelings were not quite so debilitating. Age has refined the senses, or maybe dulled them. My mother passed away on January 20. From kidney failure and heart troubles due to her Diabetes. We had a Memorial Service on February 20.

I just stopped.

I no longer wrote, read, or socialized. It got lonely and boring, and old quite fast. So I posted a few thoughts on my Facebook page. And I discovered that Laura Speaker is right. Writing is cathartic for me. I must do it to heal.

I had changed my music in the Playlist, to honor Mom. I put up the only copy I could find of "Flee as a Bird", one of her favorite hymns. I found Acappella's version of "The Lighthouse", as she loved lighthouses and really lived as if Jesus were her personal lighthouse. Now, I believe she is playing on the beach in the sands of time, with the sister she never got to meet in this life.

I am continuing to read "My Sister's Keeper" by Jodi Piccoult. This was the January book for my online book club. I must say that moving on has hurt. And has been slow happening. And is the most difficult thing I have ever felt compelled to do. Riding an emotional roller coaster when I never wanted to purchase that ticket.

It has also been good. I have communicated more with my Bro and Dad. Rare for both of them to actually talk at all, unless there was a subject that they love to share about. I found out who my friends are. I have amazing friends.

Terrible didn't stop making plans for me, however.

Dad had made a doctor appointment to check on some things. He made the appointment before Mom passed, but the actual visit was about 1 week after she passed. A week after that, he was officially diagnosed with Kidney Cancer.

My Bro was devastated. More than me, I think ... but it is hard to console others while living so deeply IN the grief for oneself. Not only had Mom been stolen from us on our watch, but Fate was punching Dad in the kidney, too. From what Dad has said, he seemed to know there was something wrong for a while, but he wanted to focus on caring for Mom. Now that she is not needing his careful watch, he can focus on caring for himself.

And nine months after I stopped blogging, I am here to try to start again.

I can never be the same. The pain has given birth to a new understanding, and I am hoping to express that in a coherent manner.

I don't know how well I will do at keeping up the writing. I don't know if I have anything to say anymore, or whom would even want to hear it. But, for the few who have tried to spur me on, I am going to start again. I am going to try. We all may have to wade through a fair amount of tripe, but I think we can look forward to more happy subjects and good words coming from me. OK, I am just hoping I still have good words in here.

Death is but a doorway between this life and the next. I believe that Mom is whole and happy and waiting for me. I can't believe she would be happy knowing that I am content to wallow in the grief.

I am standing in a dark room, wondering who turned off the light. Maybe it is time to find the light switch.

The Grape Squishery Of 2009

2009-08-19T16:15:00.030-05:00

When I signed up to harvest grapes at Tres Suenos Winery, in Luther Oklahoma, I was not expecting a spiritual revelation from God. But, in essence, that is what I got. The growing of grapes and the making of wine has been a part of the world's economy for centuries. God knew this exacting process would be around for a long time. I believe this is partly why He chose to use the "fruit of the vine" for His remembrance supper. It brings new understanding of Jesus saying "I am the Vine, and you are the branches."

A few years ago, a crowd of our friends attended a wedding at a winery. The bride wanted an outdoor wedding. It was very pretty. They have a small vineyard right on the property, and a small grove of trees on the other side of the main building, where the wedding took place. I fell in love with the beauty of it all. The wine was something new to me. I had never before found one that tasted good to me. This wedding had two flavors of wine that did taste quite good.

DH and I went back later, to an annual festival and wine tasting. We heard wonderful live music, tasted several varieties of wine, and had a grand time. We have been to the festival two years in a row, and are planning to attend our third this fall. The owners of the winery host a harvest in August every year, once the grapes are ready. This year, I signed up to be notified of the harvest. DH did not come, I was on my own this time.

I drove the almost hour from my home, and got there near 7:00 am. I met with the owner of the Winery and about 20 others. We then drove in a caravan to a contract vineyard about 8 miles away, to harvest a white variety of Sauvignon grapes. We snipped grapes off the vines from 8:00 until 11:00 am. Some of the grapes we harvested after the picture.

This is me, among the vines. The first picture of the day. A nice lady came by and said she wanted to take pictures, but her camera was at the house. I handed her mine, and asked that she take a picture of me (so she would know whom to bring the camera back to).

We were each given a white 5 gallon bucket. This is my bucket, mostly full of white grapes.

When those were filled, we put the grapes into bigger crates that could hold 3-4 buckets of grapes. This is one of those crates.

The crates were then picked up, and workers transferred the grapes to huge white containers, and brought back the crates to be filled again. This is one container being loaded on a forklift.

The owner had the load weighed, but he didn't know his empty weight, so there was no exact number for the weight of the grapes we harvested. He estimated that we picked around 3 tons of grapes.

This is one of the owners. His name is Richard.

We got to watch the grapes be moved from the small crates and big white containers through a machine that took off the stems, crushed the grapes, and sent them through a tube to large blue drums. This machine was quite noisy.

For our work the owners provided lunch. (The owner's wife had bought Red Table Grapes at the grocer for us.... and got picked on about it.) After lunch, we had the opportunity to personally stomp on a small batch of grapes. The owner had pulled many stems out of about one crate of grapes, and put them in the bottom of a 55 gallon steel barrel. We got to wash off our feet, and step into the barrel to mash the grapes. There was a baby about 1 year old, and he was having a stomping good time, and then he realized that he was not able to get himself out of the barrel. He cried, and continued to stomp all the way up the side of the barrel. Poor baby. His older brother was also having a great time squishing grapes, ending up in the barrel at least 3 times, with others and by himself. I was the second to last person to step on the grapes. Have you ever stepped on one grape accidentally in your kitchen? This was messy and fun, and totally squishy. These are my toes in the grapes.

The owner will further press those grapes and keep them separate from the rest of the harvest. He will bottle that wine, and put our names on it. He said there would be about 20 bottles from this barrel. White wine should spend about 6 months fermenting before they put it in the bottles, where it will spend another 6 months before it will be drinkable. A year from now, I will have a bottle of wine from the harvest I helped to pick. I plan to refer to it as Baby Toes. This was the baby.

The grapes at the winery property are purple grapes, but I don't know what variety.

The white grapes we harvested.

God truly is an artist. He created such lovely plants, people and processes. I plan to do this again and again. DH hopefully can come next time, and several of my friends have also volunteered. I have to go back there to collect this year's wine: 2009 Sauvignon Baby Toes. If you get a chance to taste wine from Tres Suenos Winery, do it. The name means Three Dreams, and the dreams of the owners have come to be a tasty reality.

New Adventures Of The Traveling Bloggers Or The Chelf Life Of Flea Bytes

2009-08-05T12:12:00.018-05:00

I enjoy travel. I love meeting new people. I adore getting to combine the two.

Back in July, on a Thursday, DH and I made a trip to Bricktown (downtown OKC). We met Jayme for dinner, with her immediate family, and some extended family, too. They were in town for the big annual family reunion, that was being held in a church building (less than a mile from my house). We had a really good Italian dinner at Zio's. We enjoyed walking around Bricktown and along the canal.

I had (conveniently for Jayme) left my camera in the car. Apparently, Jayme was nervous that I would chronicle our visit here. I don't like pictures of me, but I am happy to share pictures of others! No pictures this time. Good for Jayme, bad for the rest of us. Ha! I didn't want her to think that I had left her out of the journal, simply because there were no pictures. I loved visiting with them, and I wanted you all to know it!

We had a great time. Neal and DH are friends from many years ago, and it was nice for them to catch up, too. Ellie told DH he was "Ca-RAY-zy!" for not liking Strawberries. That was cute.

A month later, DH has this week off. He took a week of vacation to hang out with me, in honor of our 10th Anniversary (this Friday). We are doing much like we did when we took our honeymoon. Then, he was still in College, and I was working full time. I took one week, and we spent that week taking small trips. We spent our first two nights in a Bed and Breakfast in Guthrie, OK. We also took day trips to Wichita and Tulsa.

Monday this week we went to Tulsa. We met Flea. I don't remember precisely when I found Flea's blog, but we have been enjoying each other's blogs for around two years, I suppose. I knew when I started reading that we were kindred spirits.

She brought the "loquacious" Red Rocks with her. We met at DH's favorite place to eat that we don't have here in OKC, Fuddrucker's. We refer to it simply as Fudd's, as to not say terrible words accidentally. They make burgers to order... you can get a one pound burger that covers a plate! We ate, took pictures and visited for most of two hours!

This is Red Rocks... talking. He is quite into Classic Rock, and was a pleasure to talk to. He had to go home to make an original dessert for a Scout thing that night. Good looking, prepared, and smart. What more could you need from a kid?

Fred and Bessie also came, and enjoyed the picnic. This is Fred, making sure he got the last of the Jalapeno Cheddar Cheese sauce. (A must for the french fries.)

Here is Bessie, worrying about Fred and his balancing act to reach something.

Mr. Monkeysuit came, too. He is a ladies' man. Flea got some good pictures of him giving me a kiss.

Here is DH giving Mr. Monkeysuit the contemplative stare... and probably a warning about getting too fresh with me.

This is the Good Flea and Chelf, photo on my camera, courtesy of DH.

Thank you for coming along on the driving adventures of Chelf and DH. More entries to come, as the Anniversary Week progresses!

Top Reasons I Won't Have A Credit Card

2009-07-16T11:45:00.001-05:00

This is a news article I saw on my local television affiliate.
~~~~~~~~~~
NH man swipes debit card for smokes, charged 23 quadrillion dollars (plus $15 overdraft fee)

By Associated Press

9:05 AM CDT, July 15, 2009
MANCHESTER, N.H. (AP) — A New Hampshire man says he swiped his debit card at a gas station to buy a pack of cigarettes and was charged over 23 quadrillion dollars.

Josh Muszynski (Moo-SIN'-ski) checked his account online a few hours later and saw the 17-digit number — a stunning $23,148,855,308,184,500 (twenty-three quadrillion, one hundred forty-eight trillion, eight hundred fifty-five billion, three hundred eight million, one hundred eighty-four thousand, five hundred dollars).

Muszynski says he spent two hours on the phone with Bank of America trying to sort out the string of numbers and the $15 overdraft fee.

The bank corrected the error the next day.

Bank of America tells WMUR-TV only the card issuer, Visa, could answer questions. Visa, in turn, referred questions to the bank.
___

Information from: WMUR-TV, http://wmur.com
~~~~~~~~~~
Thursday Thirteen
"Reasons I Won't Have A Credit Card" and "Why I Think This Is Funny"

1. This was a DEBIT card, so I am still at risk.

2. 1% of this bill is more than four times the National Debt. (To copy the media, "That is QUADRILLION, with a Q!" Imagine the perky blonde anchor making you feel stupid, because you couldn't have heard it the first time.) I can live happily on that kind of money. The bank can never have enough.

3. Bank of America, the man's personal bank, is the bank known to give accounts to Undocumented Illegal Immigrants... I suppose they have to make up for that in some small fashion. I hope they don't think this is SMALL fashion.

4. I am sure that the numbers are meaningless..... no SSN or PIN in there. (Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!)

5. One of my friends on Facebook commented that the average daily balance would yield an interest charge that could be "ugly". They are allowed to be around 30%, especially if you are overdrawn.

6. How many people didn't get charged for their transactions that day, due to the keying error? I wouldn't want to be that person!

7. Cash Is King! Check out Dave Ramsey, and learn to survive without plastic. This is not a paid advertisement, just a personal testimony. I am not completely debt free, but imagine that as a goal! Now imagine that as a lifestyle!

8. I know that smoking kills you, but I thought it was for actually smoking! I am excited knowing that the guy is still alive after the SHOCK of seeing that bill.

9. Jesus said that our hearts are tied to our treasures. Junk purchased with plastic and debt are not treasures, but our hearts sit there with it anyway.

10. Nothing in the world like the Bank of America and Visa pointing fingers at each other. Poor guy had that balance on his personal checking account for a whole day, and nobody wanted to help him fix the problem.

11. The banks don't keep records better than I do. They can't! I am a perfectionist about accounting. I can't afford to let a penny slip by unaccounted for. I can't afford to write off mistakes. I can count!

12. Banks are really good at sticking you with fees when you really do overdraw... by a penny or two. Shouldn't they PAY you when the mistake is THEIRS?

13. Even Bakers know how to give a little extra to get a lot of loyalty. Banks could learn from this generous practice.

Blessings to you, more than money.

Which King is KING?

2009-07-16T10:54:00.004-05:00

This was a mini sermon posted by my friend Rick Rossing, on Facebook.
I love the way he thinks! I had to share this with you today. Just had to.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tue {July 14, 2009} at 9:16pm

Michael Jackson was the King of Pop. When he died, millions cried. Thousands went to his funeral. Millions watched it on TV. Everyone wanted everyone else to know that they were friends of his. Michael Jackson impersonators are beginning to pop up everywhere. People are flocking to Neverland to walk where he walked and pay homage. But in a hundred years, who will really remember?

Elvis Presley was the King of Rock and Roll. When he died, millions cried. Many went to his funeral, and many watched it replayed on the news. Everyone wanted everyone else to know that they were friends of his. Elvis impersonators still pop up everywhere. People still trek to Graceland to walk where he walked and pay homage. But in a hundred years, who will really remember?

Jesus Christ was the King of Kings. When he died, thousands cheered. Only a handful of people stuck around to lay him in the tomb. Even people who knew him denied it. But after a few days, people started seeing him everywhere. His tomb is empty. Millions now take pilgrimages to the Holy Land to walk where he walked and pay homage, and millions more seek to be imitators of Christ. It's been almost two thousand years, and millions of people remember.

So which king do you follow? The king of pop, the king of rock, or the king of kings?
Do you want to live in Neverland, Graceland, or the Holy Land?

Jesus' tomb is empty. His promises are not.

Peace.
~~~~~~~~~~
I hope this humble thought has blessed you today!

There Ain't No Doubt, I LOVE this Land! God BLESS The U.S.A. !!!

2009-07-02T07:30:00.004-05:00

I enjoy Facebook. There are so many people to connect to. Friends from such a distant past, I have almost forgotten. Most people don't realize that I have a pretty good memory for names and faces. More specially for those who made an impact on my life. Apparently, I have made those kinds of impacts on the lives of others, when I was unaware.

I am finding people that I knew in High School (and before), but I thought they didn't like me. It was not like we were ever best buds. I kept up with the best buds. It occurred to me at my 10 year reunion, and I shared with my husband, that it hadn't yet been long enough. Some of the people I didn't like during High School were still the same, and that was immature. I said maybe they would really grow up by the 20th. Here we are just past 17, and the people I am connecting with (not all of these were unlikeable in the past, mind you) are more mature, more friendly and more sure of themselves.

Maybe that was the problem. We didn't like ourselves, so we projected that hate onto others, to give ourselves someone to blame. I know I did some of that. I know also that I can't be friends with everyone... but I can be a better friend to the ones who allow me into their circles.

People are surprising. This is why I watch them so much. Age, experience and having children gives one a new sense of self. When you stretch to let another person into your sphere, you can't help but grow. I have grown (physically, too...ugh) since I was young. I thought I knew it all.... now I know simply that I can never know it all.

I can't fathom why I thought people didn't like me. I never gave them a chance to speak for or against me. I still don't understand all of why I didn't like some others. I am amazed at the good memories that my friends-again have kept of me. I hope that I never take the olive branch of friendship for granted again. I beg myself to offer that same olive branch to another... and another... and another... without fear.

If you are my Blogger friend, or my Facebook friend, please know that I appreciate every one of you. You keep my world interesting and refreshing. I may do what my friend Jon did... Thanks-giving notes... to each and every friend. I can't do the video posts like he did, but I can try to see things from another perspective. I see that I need to focus on others for a change, not on me Me ME all the time.

Again I see that I complain so much. Why? God has provided a roof over my head, two and half years of allowing me to not work for "the MAN", and given me the biggest blessings, many of which I didn't know I needed! I need to focus on the happy, uplifting and joyful things in life.

This weekend, I get to spend our Nation's Independence Day with family, friends, food and fireworks. What could be better?

Happy Birthday, AMERICA!!!

Death, Life And A Little Bit Of Mediocrity

2009-06-29T12:20:00.001-05:00

It has been a bad week to be famous.
A bad month (two), really.
There have been so many celebrities who have passed away recently:

Wayman Tisdale, 44. NBA star, and University of Oklahoma player before that. I hear he was an excellent musician.

Wayne Allwine, 62. The voice of Mickey Mouse for (very close to) my entire lifetime. His wife has been the voice of Minnie Mouse, too.

Millvina Dean, 97. The last survivor of the Titanic, she was just a baby in April 1912.

David Carradine, 72.

Ed McMahon, 86.

Farrah Fawcett, 62.

Michael Jackson, 50.

Gale Storm, 87. (I had to look her up, I am too young.)

Billy Mays, 50.

We joke that things come in threes. This is three sets of three. And this is not the definitive list, there have been other celebrity deaths since May. I am not going to make any pithy jokes today. The world has lost a lot of great talents recently. My childhood has taken a pretty hard hit.

On a more personal note, I found out this weekend that my Uncle has been diagnosed with prostate cancer. They caught it early, and it is a very treatable kind of cancer. He lives near and is familiar with M.D. Anderson, and my Aunt is a nurse. My mind keeps going back to Esther in the Bible... "for such a time as this". I know that God has prepared them for this trial. I would appreciate prayer on behalf of my family.

I hosted a baby shower on Saturday. My friend Ferret came with her family to be showered with gifts... from Kansas. And we had a friend drive up from Dallas. Yes, if you do the math... she drove 4 hours each way to spend only 2 hours with us! We have dedicated friends. The new house is not clean, but things are strategically stacked. I have several weeks to get ready for the housewarming that the wonderful ladies at church are going to give us.

I have noticed that I complain a lot. I am sorry for that. Of what use is complaining? I am blessed. I have a roof over my head, I don't owe money each month to a landlord anymore. I have two cars, two cats, two bedrooms. I have food in the kitchen, and energy to cook it. I have a full sized washer and dryer. I have so much to be happy about, yet I allow myself to be convinced that I am not worthy, or appreciative. Satan sneaks in and lies to me, and I allow those lies to take over my attitude. That is such a sorry existence. I need to be reminded (as often as the Jews in the Bible, it seems) that God is always here, and that He continually provides me with everything I could want and more.

Thank someone today!

The Universe Has A Warped Sense Of Humor!

2009-06-17T13:33:00.003-05:00

The car I got from Enterprise (paid for by the other guy's insurance) is a newer version of the car that hit me! Yes, I was assigned a 2009 Nissan Altima. The car that hit me was a 1995 model. This is a black car. I would never own a black car, not on purpose. Not in Oklahoma. The temperatures this week are supposed to be over 90 all week. With the 60% humidity and more, the temperatures are way too hot to have such a big dark car.

It is a smooth ride, turns soft like butter! Lots of fun cubbies to explore, way too many cup holders, and useless gauges to distract my attention while driving. I like knowing that there is a cruise control. But the first time I pushed the button to turn it on, I accidentally honked the horn. In fact, I honked three times before I realized that I was the one honking. I spent probably 10 minutes just adjusting the car to me, and making sure I could reach what I needed to reach. Can't damage the car right in front of the rental office, you know?

Zipper got stretched only, and is back home as of late last night. Thank you all for your prayers and good wishes. The next appointment in about 6 months will be the rod replacement surgery, provided she does not break them before that. She was showing Daddy the ropes this time, since he has not been there for a stretch before. Apparently, she was angelic for Daddy. He got to see the rare happy side of a girl on the edge. I have not heard how much she grew with being straightened out. Now we just need to get some more fat on her bones to cushion her.

I have been trying to trim our budget recently. Our house related expenses went up a little when we bought this house. So I am trying to cut back on brand name things. I went to Aldi. This grocery store has good prices on food that is not name brand. I decided to try their milk, since it was so much cheaper than others. Big mistake. This stuff tasted like colored water. I used to get 2% milk that tasted better. Mystic, who usually loves drinking milk after my cereal is gone, turned her nose up at it. That sealed the decision. I have decided to not skimp on milk. I am going back to Braum's. I found a store that has the 1/2 gallon for $0.20 less than the store near DH's work. For as little milk as I use, I can pay a little more for the good stuff.

I am off to clean again. Since I know your prayers work... please pray that I don't get bogged down by the work it will take to get my new home looking the way I want it. I can't imagine how to decorate anything, because I can't see past the junk I have in the way. If I can move my pride and junk out of the way, my home can be a more open place to share the hospitality I have in my heart. I know this goal is not so lofty that it can't be met. I know I can finally have a clean home, with God's help and yours. Thanks!

Be blessed today!

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch...

2009-06-14T21:45:00.006-05:00

I want to send a BIG Thank You to Mamma Mia, who reminds me constantly to give myself a break! I have been hoping that I could get the house together and pretty in a week, two weeks, a month.... and here we are at very close to two months, and I sincerely don't feel very accomplished at all. I want to have a clean home. I really do! The trouble I run into is that I have given myself way too many breaks. I have essentially locked myself in the house, and while I can see progress, it is moving far too slowly for my taste. I want to do more work in less time. I don't know how to go about the housework efficiently. I have a new goal. Maybe stating it out loud on the blog will encourage me to work harder for it. I am hosting a baby shower in my home on the 27th. I have two weeks. I don't want to do all the work in the last two days. (I do work extraordinarily well under pressure.)

Zipper is getting stretched on Monday. We are hoping that she just gets stretched, and doesn't need new rods just yet. She will come home from St. Louis at least 3 inches taller. I am sure of it. Ferret had tried to give her more nutrition, to grow out and put some fat on her very skinny frame, but Zipper took it all and grew up instead, which means she is curved pretty badly. So, if you will please lift her and her family up to God, I would appreciate it.

I have a new Facebook Username. I don't know why I bothered. They wouldn't let me even look at "mychelf", but "chelf" went through just fine. I don't know how my moniker could be construed as vulgar or questionable, but I respect their choice. I have no idea what to DO with the Username, and am taking suggestions. If you are on Facebook, look me up: www.Facebook.com/chelf

I need some suggestions. I have a very dark and somewhat bland matte brown living room. The ceiling is even painted! I like it, it is different. However, it absorbs all the light in the room, allowing for no reflection at all. I find that light colored decorations look pretty good on it. It might actually get to be my Oriental themed room, with lots of pink cherry blossom art and brushstroke letters. What I am looking for is ways to make it a little brighter, without taking away the base color. I have considered sponging on a lighter Mauve or a red-toned Cinnamon to give it a bit of a glaze. I have considered repainting altogether, but don't want to do that right now. Does anyone have tips to making a dark room less intimidating?

Jumping June Bugs! I have to be up so early tomorrow! Back in May, my Honda Fit got bumper tapped. I was driving, and the big van in front of me stopped. I hurried to stop, and then tried to avoid getting hit from behind by angling to the right a bit. The green sedan behind me tried to avoid me by going into the left lane of traffic when he realized he could not stop, but we still glanced off each other. I did not hit the van, and the other driver did not hit anything other than my bumper. It is amazing how much it costs to fix such a light tap. His insurance is paying for the repairs, and I am delivering the car to the shop at the way-too-early hour of 7:30. It will take me 20 minutes or more to get there, so I plan to leave by 7. Ugh. I am a Garfield (TM) sort of person. I don't do mornings, and I despise Mondays. Both will happen tomorrow. I suppose complaining won't help nearly as much as getting to bed before midnight tonight will.

His insurance is also paying for the rental car replacement. They approved me for a full sized car! To replace my compact hatchback. I have no idea what make or model of car I will come home with. If I can save them a little money by downgrading what I get, I may try. Depends on what they offer me, I suppose. I might like to try out an SUV. (I can dream, right?)

Enjoy your own cars this week, everyone!

Praise For The Lord, For The House Is Good

2009-04-30T21:06:00.000-05:00

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things That Are Better About The New House

1. Faux Bay Window. (Bay Window is a dream of mine from way back!)

2. The roof is solid, and has no holes. Insulation! No popcorn texture ceiling.

3. Appliances are newer and bigger. (Washer, Dryer, Refrigerator and Stove)

4. Dishwasher!

5. Built-In Book Shelves. Two of them!

6. Bigger Closets.

7. The house is not falling into the backyard. (The old house had foundation issues evident in the cracks on the walls and ceiling, as well as the ridge in the floor.)

8. Full view front storm door. The cats have their Sun Worshiping spot again.

9. Colors on the walls, not just boring cream.

10. Curtains. (blinds that were broken at other house)

11. Working windows. Fresh air all the time!

12. Real Attic. (vs. hole in garage ceiling)

13. Bigger Bedroom

Wait... I Have A Blog?

2009-04-29T11:29:00.005-05:00

I am surprised how many of you have still come by to see if I have had any inspiration. Constantly surprised by my awesome friends. Thank you for not giving up on me.

I know I have appeared to just drop off the blogging wagon. I have been quite obsessed with the ease of Facebook. This is no excuse. I still need to write. I have moved my physical existence from a rent house to our first home. Having never bought a house before, I was overwhelmed. I didn't have an actual intention to buy the house until almost Valentine's Day. We signed the contract and gave our earnest money on March 9. We signed the mountain of paperwork and got funded on April 9. The beautiful house is ours, after a mere two months.

The word "overwhelmed" doesn't really cover it. I am swamped, tuckered, lost, disorganized, cluttered.... and then overwhelmed. It all looks like such a mess. I have so much stuff that seems less valuable now that it is in the new house. I have done a lot of laundry, and cleaned and organized... and it looks as if I have done nothing. I am clearly in need of a maid, storage designer, motivational speaker and life coach. Sigh. I keep plugging away at it, hoping that I can have things down to a manageable dull roar by Mother's Day, when my Mother is coming for a visit.

I asked the previous owner to trim the bushes back away from the house, so that we could get to the water access behind them. Yeah, someone really took that the wrong way. The bushes got trimmed from the front. I don't know whom to blame, because I realize that what I said was misinterpreted. I don't like the bushes, I wanted them gone anyway. But I was hoping to wait a year or two before removing them completely, and replacing them with a stone patio.

The cats have been getting used to the new place, too. They stayed in the former house for a few days longer than we and our stuff did. They came out of the safety lockdown room (old master bedroom) and looked at Jeff as if to say, "WE'VE BEEN ROBBED!!!" They spent the first two days in the new house climbing into places I won't let them go again, sniffing everything, and staring out the windows.

Marvel decided that he needed to be in the closet in the second bedroom. A bag fell, and in his efforts to escape, he got a shallow cut on his nose. Poor baby. It worries me that he was bleeding, but it stopped pretty quickly. I am hoping that he heals quickly, too. He does not like me cleaning his wound, and he will not be happy with alcohol being on the cotton ball that comes next.

Mystic has not injured herself, but has gotten to the top of the built-in bookcase, the top of our closet in the master bedroom, and the top of a bookshelf we brought in. She is a very vocal cat, walking around talking to the Ceiling Cat, or whatever she imagines is up there.

Obviously, the cats are fine. They are both crashed on the couch next to me right now. I would put a picture here of that, but the camera is in my purse, which is currently under Mystic's head.

This has been a pleasant break. I am going to get back to the cleaning and finding of places for all my junk. Thanks for checking on me. Keep coming by, anytime. I love visitors. Feel free to come find me physically, too. But if you drop by, be warned: I will put you to work!

Have a blessed day!

Road Trip To Sin City, Part 4

2009-03-23T13:21:00.036-05:00

... and the last in this series, I hope. I had to add these fun and funny pictures. I am working on another post, a deep thoughtful one. So here is a break before the depth.

Bro and SIL at the dinner the night before the wedding. There wasn't really a rehearsal, and her family didn't come to this dinner. I don't know if they weren't there yet, or just tired. But our family and their friends came. Aren't they cute? Poor kids were both sick, but the good meal and hot tea helped a lot.

DH and me at the same dinner. Bro took the picture. The one I tried as a self portrait was a funny angle straight up my nose. I won't bore you with that.

This was a funny picture of SIL's mom. We were waiting impatiently for the Limo to show up at the Stratosphere, to take us to the wedding site. Everyone with cameras was taking pictures. SIL's Mom and I took pictures of each other taking pictures of each other. Then I tried to get a good picture of her. I got this first. She joked that this was more real. I have another picture that is nice, but this one makes me laugh. Our families are going to get along well.

This picture is for the pure funny of it. This is in the Paris, right beneath the Eiffel Tower. I gather from the stuff we could see, that it is Asian food, but the name... is fitting.

When we walked around the Miracle Mile shops, there were columns that had different words on them. Each column had a different word, and each word was in all different languages. "Desire" has Pig Latin.

There was "Love". We pondered what language had "HAHA" as it's word for love. My comment was, "They're joking, right?"

I know a guy named Fred. I didn't know the name meant "Peace".

"Peace" had the best words. This was the longest individual word we saw. It almost took the whole side of the column.

Bro got a kick out of this one. Goom-Jigi. I really need to find out what language that is!

This is one of the lions in the MGM Grand. This is the view up to her, from a walkway. The plexiglass is all scratched up, this is a very clear picture of our actual view. She moved her paws to cover her face for that guy trying to get a camera up her nose. It was so nonchalant, but full of personality. "No more pictures, today, dear."

Later, this same lion got up and gave the people a show. She urinated on the glass...and immediately about 10 cameras were up in the air, trying to get the picture, from underneath her in that walkway. I was not under the walkway by then. She had about 50 people laughing and taking more pictures. From this, I gather that big cats don't cover their excrement like domestic cats do. (I like my cats using the litter box!) When she was done, she went back and lay down in the exact same spot she was in before. Like nothing had changed.

Sisters. Better than by blood, we are sisters by choice. We each refer to the other's Mom as Mom Squared. Our Mothers act like sisters, too. I met Best BFF when I moved to Gallup, at the age of 6. She was 7, and would turn 8 before the first year was out. We have shared all sorts of adventures. Vegas was better than the Arizona State Fair! (My favorite vacations as a kid, once neither of us lived in Gallup anymore.)

This is the current state of construction of the new bypass bridge at the Hoover Dam. I guess the plan is that the dam can still be toured and stuff, but the majority of the traveling traffic is not going to go over it anymore. This bridge had a sign that they were hoping to be done by 2008. They missed. But it is tall and looks pretty impressive.

I found the place where steak sauce is from! A mountain road near Flagstaff, AZ.

So Mamma Mia knows that I was not telling stories, here is the proof. I tried to go to her Uncle's restaurant in Albuquerque.

They were, however, closed. The sign explained it was a private party. Entrance would be granted by Invitation Only. *Sigh* So I didn't get the *BEST* Mexican food in the state. They had just had a Grand Re-Opening, and I was told that the employees were probably all drunk anyway, so it wouldn't have been fun. It is on my list for the next time we go through. Maybe we can meet up with Looney Mom again. (Yes, I am hanging my head in shame. I am a terrible long-distance friend. I didn't call at all. Bad Chelf!)

The yummiest hot Chai latte away from Vintage. This was the second trip to Perennials, as it was so very good the first time. I bought two of those mugs, one for me and one for my friend. (He and his wife are also big fans of How I Met Your Mother.)

I hope you have enjoyed my vacation documentaries. I hope to have many more adventures, and share them with you.

Road Trip To Sin City, Part 3

2009-03-18T10:06:00.033-05:00

Word of the Post
Today's word is: vacation
/va*ca"tion/
noun: The act of vacating; leaving a void; intermission of employment, leisure time away from work devoted to rest; on holiday.
verb: To spend or take a vacation.
This was the most fun I have had hurting myself on a vacation.
~~~~~~~~~~
On the way to Vegas, we stopped to have a late lunch in Amarillo, TX. I love my new little car... and I think it is scary how so many larger cars on the road may not see me. Partially because the color could blend into the road, but mostly because other drivers are distracted or just not looking. When I pulled into this space, I got tickled over the visual of small vs. large that I had created. The intimidating Hummer I parked near.

I used to have all sort of posters and t-shirts for the Roadkill Cafe'. This trip, I found a physical store that called itself that! I took this picture as much for my mom and her love of Windmills, as my own little sick fascination. This is down the street from the gas station we stopped at in Seligman, AZ.

All during this trip, and a couple before it, I had been saying in conversation the lyrics of songs we were hearing on the radio or the CD we were listening to. Last April, I said something about crack filling, and then immediately heard "..fill in the cracks..." on the Chicago CD. We also have noticed things that are related to movies. Signs, places, and songs that relate to movies we have recently watched. Jeff noticed the contrails that looked like a logo, to a movie I have seen, but he has not (that I know of). Do you see it? (I will tell you the movie was Fantastic!)

This is another view of the Revolution Lounge. The letters were turned, any that had a bottom had seats in them. This is where I got the idea to put DH in one, and take a picture of him. I like the effect of the people walking past. Not the greatest picture, but fun.

This is the entry to Ceasar's, and those circular things are actually escalators! Like the moving sidewalks, this is one of the coolest things I have ever ridden.

For Roadrunner, this is an ad on a facade of New York New York. You can see part of the support for the "Brooklyn Bridge", which is where we were walking when I saw this.

Best BFF said this was the closest she had been to NYC since she was an infant. This is the closest I have been since 1992. We drove past NYC, and I got to see Lady Liberty through binoculars... and she still appeared only about 2 inches tall. This replica is awesome!

DH and myself in front of Lady Liberty... behind us is the castle of Excalibur. We didn't go in there. It looked cool, though. We rode an escalator up like the one you see behind us. It was scary. If one leans over too far, one sees the traffic one could fall directly into! Add that it is more than one house story level high, because it has to go over traffic with double decker Deuce buses going past... and that as such a small construct, it shakes. Ferret would have been passed out by the time she got to the top. I almost was, and I am not scared of heights. I am not usually scared of man-made structures, either.

For Roadrunner's kids (mostly the little one), I saw this Nintendo PSP replica on the side of a building. It is more than a story high! It was an LCD billboard. Very cool for us gamer geeks!

The Kiss

It is a family joke that Dad really does not like getting dressed up. Ties are evil, we are certain. He might own two... one that stays tied up waiting to be put on, and this one that is clip-on. Bro wouldn't have cared if we were in Bermuda shorts and flip-flops, as long as we were there. I was surprised that Bro was in a suit, but he had to be. It was made for him, so not uncomfortable. But Dad still removes the tie when the need to show it is over. I asked him to move it, but New SIL said she thought it showed his character, so we had him put it back in the same place. Dad is surely a character.

The Siblings. DH, Me, Bro, New SIL, Her sis. Both of the families have decided that we are ALL family now. I can really get to liking this. Bro's MIL figures we all came with the package. She is not wrong; when blending families, every member is part of the experience.

I took this, to have a record of Mom's family ring. The large diamond is the solitaire from her wedding set, that fell out around their 20th anniversary. I found it (we were at the DMV when she noticed it was gone) and we had it reset. The small stones are for each family member's birth month, and the anniversary month. The stones are: February Amethyst, April Diamond, May Emerald, July Ruby and October Pink (to replace the Opal that is too soft to put with crystals). Also in the picture, a bracelet that one of Mom's friends gave her recently, a carnation (hers of the flowers that Bro and SIL gave all the women at the wedding), her watch, and the wedding band to hold the family ring in place.

The watch face has colored pencils or crayons for the hands, and colored numbers. She was a teacher before she retired, so that was special. The watch band was hand made by a friend of ours when we lived in Gallup. Turquoise, Coral and other colored stones, set in silver in a personalized new design that has Hopi, Anasazi and Navajo influences. Now that I think about it, that watch band is almost 25 years old!

Until I am struck by inspiration again...

I'm Not A Tool... I'm An Instrument!

2009-03-06T14:33:00.002-06:00

I interrupt myself in the posts about Vegas to bring you a very good thought. My friend Rick Rossing penned this ponder on his Facebook account, and I got permission to reprint it. I did a copy/paste, and didn't change a thing, title and all.

Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~
During a Bible class, we were reading the passage in Acts 9:15 where Jesus says that Paul is his chosen instrument, and someone commented that Paul was a tool. I didn't like the concept, and I've been mulling it over ever since.

It is never a compliment to be called a tool, at least not in my experience. A tool is a person who is useful enough at what he does, but is only being used. He might not even be aware that he is not admired so much as tolerated. Like a hammer, he's used for whatever task he's needed for, then tossed carelessly back into the box with all the other tools. Tools are not generally loved, and they are easily replaced.

But an instrument is far more special! The word conjures up to me the image of a saxophone or clarinet, or a finely honed surgical scalpel. A saxophone is comprised of many intricate valves and parts that are precisely joined together and tuned to produce sweet music. An instrument is specially designed for its purpose, painstakingly and even lovingly. It is not easy to replace an instrument. The one who uses the instrument cares for and even loves it. When not in use, the instrument is carefully placed in a location prepared for it to keep it safe.

The God who created Paul and used him also formed him and loved him. The same God created me and uses me, but God also forms me and loves me. I am beautifully and wonderfully made, because I am loved.

We are His workmanship, created for good works.

I'm no tool... I'm an instrument. So are you.

Road Trip To Sin City, Part 2

2009-03-05T10:00:00.001-06:00

After the wedding, the family all went to lunch, which turned into dinner it was so late. The Venetian is smelly (perfume overload) but fun. This was the disappearing statue man outside of the restaurant. I came back a few minutes later, and he was gone.

Mom wanted to go see the Hawaiian Village Market that was farther away than she knew. We watched the fountains at the Bellagio again, from almost the same vantage point as the night before. If you look closely, you can see Mom in the wheelchair, and behind her on the ledge is Dad, and DH is to his right.

Wednesday, Mom and Dad decided to leave a day early, to get home to rest. We visited more with Best BFF and her hubby.

We walked from the Stratosphere down to Circus Circus and played a few dollars at Slots of Fun. I had budgeted to play at least $20 each for each of three days; we had $120 in Blow Money. With all the little $1 and $0.25 and $0.05 slots we played in various casinos over three days... together we lost (played) only about $18. We both should have quit when we were $1 ahead on the nickel slots! Ah, well...it was fun. I can see how the addiction starts, but we had more interesting things to see and do in Vegas.

Best BFF and hubby then decided to go home, to see their girls before bedtime. We continued walking... down to Treasure Island again. We ate brunch at Denny's (figured it would be pretty standard) across the street from the Mirage, and then got the call from Bro and SIL that they wanted to hang out with us. Yay! This is a bronze statue of the faces of Sigfried and Roy... and probably the lion that ate Roy.

This is the Mirage, advertising the show that DH wanted to see. At first, I said we couldn't afford it. If it hadn't been for Uncle Sam this year, we wouldn't have been able to have a good time at all. So I tried, once we had a bit of money, to get tickets... and the show was on a rotation or something. It was not playing at all the week we were there. Bummer, Dude!

Do not despair, though. DH got his Beatles fix. Inside one of the hotels is the REVOLUTION, a Beatles Lounge!

Some of those letters had seats in them. The pictures I tried to take of DH sitting in them turned out horrible. So here is a sign for you.

We wandered all the way down to the M&M's store (They wanted $11.99 for ONE pound of M's! I figure they can keep them, and I will buy at Wal-Mart). We went to the Coca Cola store next door, and enjoyed "Tastes Around the World". This is a sample size of 16 drinks from all over. South Africa, Italy, Mexico, and others. I have but one warning for you... don't ever drink "Beverly" in Italy. That crap was nasty, bitter and had a terrible aftertaste. I hear they use it to cut their alcohol... and I can't imagine how bad their drinks become because of it. No wonder they prefer wine!

We went to the top of the Eiffel Tower and watched the Bellagio Fountains show from above... twice.

We then wandered back down to Planet Hollywood where they had parked their car. Hey, who can beat free valet everywhere? You park for as long as you need, and then you tip the guy a couple bucks for bringing it back. Easy, if you are willing to drive in Vegas. I am not. Bro was... and SIL was worried about the other drivers and the survival of her car. They offered to give us a ride back to the Stratoshpere. While on the way, we all decided we were hungry. In that decision, dinner was proposed.

Sally, I had an In-N-Out Double Double.

IT WAS... there are not words. YUM! I know I was extremely hungry, but I honestly believe that was the best meal we had in Vegas. I won't say the whole trip, because we ate at some awesome places while on the journey there and back again... but IN Vegas, that was the best. And even at $6 for a burger, it was the cheapest, too. Fries and a drink came with that sweet little taste of Heaven. Even McDonald's for breakfast was more $$.

We had been inside New York New York on Monday... and we laughed at this: For all the millions of dollars spent to build these massive Hotel/Casino luxuries, to find an obvious typo made my day! I am not going to say anything more, you have to find it. I apologize for the lack of quality in this photo... I was probably still shaking from giggling.

Then there was this sign. I know I am pretty sheltered and naive. Really. But... this was a bit much to think about.

And one more little delight for the member of the Society for the Protection Of Good Grammar (SPOGG) in me. It was in the Planet Hollywood Miracle Mile of Shops. There seems to be no reason beyond laziness that the T is missing from Entertainment.

At a second glance, it seems that they could have put the T over the corner... or cut it off at the pass. The view just seems incomplete without an attempt at the issue. I know... I am a Language Snob. These little things are part of the grander picture for me. With all the extravagance in Vegas, certainly they could hire proofreaders for their signs?

Join us next time, when Chelf has NOT attempted to correct every mistake she sees....

Road Trip To Sin City, Part 1

2009-03-05T09:00:00.003-06:00

We went to Las Vegas, NV for my brother's wedding. We decided that if we had to drive two days to get there and two days to get back, we might as well make a whole vacation out of it.

On Saturday, we drove from Oklahoma City, OK to Albuquerque, NM and spent the night at Chez Jenna, in the Mom Room. We visited for only a few moments (let her dog, Charlie Brown, come and stare at me like he does with Mom) and then went to bed. We arose fairly early on Sunday. Several months ago, I had seen an interview on TV with Neil Patrick Harris, and he said his parents owned a restaurant in Albuquerque. It is a wonderful little Breakfast, Brunch, Lunch spot called Perennials. We found it, and enjoyed the most wonderful breakfast. We both had the Fiesta Bowl which was hash browns covered by a meat of your choice, eggs cooked your way, and chile of your choice (Red or Green). I loved it so much, I bought a mug with their logo on it. I recommend that you eat there if you can. They are a very nice neighborhood sort of place; no big bragging on their famous son, nothing at all in fact to attach him to their business.

We then went to Gallup, NM to meet my parents. From there, we were a short caravan to Vegas. (My parents drive a Dodge Caravan, so yes, the pun was intended.) There was snow on the ground in Flagstaff, AZ. (This was Devil Dog Road... had to have a picture of that for the Devil Dog dessert DH loves from Vintage Timeless Coffee.)

We stopped in Winslow, AZ, and let DH stand on a corner. I am sure that is not a new concept, but it was fun for us.

We didn't forget Winona, AZ (get your kicks on Rt. 66!).

We spent three days and four nights there. I have never before been to Las Vegas. It is huge, and growing all the time. It is fantastic and busy. We stayed at the Stratosphere, at the very north end of "The Strip". DH referred to it as the giant thumb tack... it can be seen from Henderson when you get close to Vegas... and it is a perfect landmark for finding your way. All that, and I never really got a good picture of it. My good pictures were from the top of it, looking down. Imagine that!

We spent Monday walking from Treasure Island (somewhere in the middle)...

...all the way south to the MGM Grand (the far south end).

We were sore and blistered, but had a fun time with Best BFF and her hubby.

Tuesday was the Wedding.

It was beautiful! Short, sweet, to the point, and no Elvis Impersonators in sight! I made sure as my first question to Bro that there would be none. He said that there wouldn't be any "within a MILE!" and then amended to say that he couldn't be sure how many Impersonators would be within a real one mile radius of the chapel, but there would be no Elvis in the building for his wedding. The officiant on staff at the chapel. Bro said he did a great job for not knowing anything about them.

Mom looked great!

The ducks were beating them to the punch! (I hear they were male ducks, so maybe they were fighting over a girl? I don't know.)

Lots of pictures being taken.

New Family. Bro and SIL with their new In Laws.

Sisters. This is Mom (in the middle) and her two sisters. In age order from right to left, and height order from left to right.

New couple.

They each asked their sisters to be witnesses on the official paperwork!
His sister... that would be me.

Her sister.

To be continued....

Ask, Seek, And Knock. Simple Instructions.

2009-03-04T14:04:00.004-06:00

God is so big. Massive. My realization of this fills me with awe. Saying "awesome" doesn't really share the immensity of the relationship, or the epiphany. God could be concerned with governments, planets, galaxies... or birds, fleas and grass.... but He chooses to be concerned over me. Chooses to give me more than I could ever really know I needed.

I keep coming back to the Scripture. One idea in particular stands out recently. A theme, of sorts. The words of Jesus. The way he conversed with the apostles and the people. The words he said. I can imagine him shaking his head at us... like a frustrated parent. What were you thinking? Don't you know? I have told you over and over.

It shows in the way he started different explanations. "Have you not read the Scripture?" And it is in the way he instructed by reminding. "You do not have because you do not ask!"

For Christmas in 2007, I asked for a new car. I was frustrated with the Buick and didn't want it to die on me again in some remote place. I put the request in my Elfster account that we had for our family gift exchange. I added that if I didn't ask, I would never receive. Not that I was asking the family to provide, but that I wanted the request known.

Before Christmas 2008, I had the new car.

For Christmas in 2008, I decided to ask for the grandest thing I could think of. I know that I do not have a NEED for any THING, but I have many desires. God says he longs to give us the desires of our hearts. So I went bold. I asked for a new house.

Yesterday, we received the pre-approval letter to take to our contract meeting. We have been approved to make a loan to get a home. We have chosen the home, and are working to purchase it from the owners. This "For Sale By Owner" is a friend of ours, and they never even had to put a sign up at the house.

Before Christmas 2009, if all goes well, we will have the new house I asked for.

What have I missed out on by not asking for it?

Go talk to God. He wants to give us good things.

Safe, Sassy and Silly

2009-02-13T14:10:00.001-06:00

I feel like I apologize every time I post. I have not been blogging enough, and I wonder if people even notice, because the hints to write have not come as often as I expected. I do keep up with many of my blogger buddies on Facebook. While it isn't the same, it is more instant, and easier for me.

I have to say for the benefit of my panicked friends, there were tornadoes here in OKC on Tuesday afternoon. My house didn't even get so much as ONE hailstone. Which is good. I could see the storm, to my west, and moving to the north. I have a friend in radio who recorded the storm from his back porch on a cell phone video. It was spectacular. (God is so big!) We are fine, and all our church family and friends are fine. I don't even know anyone who got wind damage or debris thrown at their house.

Thank you to all the friends who checked on me via phone and Facebook. We are not harmed by the tornado, and I value your good thoughts, prayers and well wishes. You are so very important to me. I don't get to say it often, but I should do so more.

My Bro is getting married. This is a little odd. I never even asked what he thought of me saying yes when DH proposed. I was so excited, I didn't think about the family opinions. I don't really know much about Future SIL. I know that she is nice, and pretty, and has Bro's heart. She thinks about Mom and Bro, and not just herself. (The past is behind us...) I have decided that she is good for Bro. In the past, with other girlfriends, I have wondered if Bro was settling. This time, I see that he has THE one. I can't argue with that. I am blessed that he found someone that I can be friends with. I would hate to hurt him by feuding with his wife. I don't see that being a problem here. And we are blessed.

Bro has been happy to plan the wedding according to Future SIL's wishes. I don't even know where the actual ceremony is going to be held. The wedding (and our vacation around it) will be held in Las Vegas, NV. We just got our tax refund in the direct deposit today... so the trip will be nice. We won't be gambling the money away, but we won't be forced to eat $1 hot dogs from the corner stand all week, either. We might even get to take in a show, thanks to this windfall.

Now I am going to have two sisters in law. SIL 1 and 2? Like Thing 1 and Thing 2 in Dr. Seuss books. This makes me laugh. I will have to think of a way to note the difference here on Blogger, so that you can know which SIL I speak of when I randomly mention life events.

DH and I are making a concerted effort to buy a home. We have picked the home, and chosen the Realtor who will guide and help us on the way. I need your prayers on the matter... I am scared. It is a good nervous fear, not the bad "I shouldn't be doing this" fear. I just don't want the fear to cripple me. We are committing to a Mortgage, when the economy and loan process are in the toilet. If one can afford it, now is the time to buy, while the rates are low and sellers are desperate to get out of their overpriced homes. This one is not overpriced, in fact the seller wants to let it go for around $15,000 less than the estimated value of the home. I will post more as we progress.

One last thing....Funny Friday.

Quotes from my Wednesday night Women's Class:
1. What good is having faith if you do not use it?
2. God is gonna be up; there is no sense to me losing sleep over my problems. I am going to bed.
3. Are there any prayer requests? "I have a plethora." (First thought in my head: Do you KNOW what a Plethora is??? We have a lot of fun in Wednesday night class!)

Have a great Valentine's Day!

Thursday Thirteen --- 2009-1

2009-01-21T13:23:00.004-06:00

Thirteen Goals for 2009 and Beyond!

1. Go to the gym at least three times per week. Move more, eat less. Get healthier, which has nothing to do with the numbers on the scale or labels.

2. Stop eating seconds at mealtimes.

3. Learn to keep my thoughts to myself, instead of blurting out hurtful things.

4. Read, Read, Read! I have a stack of books on the shelf, staring at me.

5. Pray more.

6. Read the Bible more.

7. Study. Study everything. Not just the Bible and its meaning for me, but I want to try to understand the world and all the opinions around me.

8. I want to make my home a clean and calm place.

9. Prune the collections. Focus on one or two.

10. Make sure that the loves in my life know how important they truly are to me.

11. Cook at home instead of lazily going to fast food.

12. Spend time outdoors, getting Vitamin D and the elusive tan.

13. Smile more, laugh, giggle and guffaw.

The Dream Is Still Alive

2009-01-19T11:58:00.004-06:00

I was ignoring the television, playing on the computer a moment ago... and heard something that made me blink. Because of the news coverage at noon, I have had a few small epiphanies in the past few minutes.

1. Today is the Observance of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (MLK) Day. (DH doesn't have the day off, and since I don't work, I no longer keep up with such things.)

2. The famous "I Have A Dream" speech was made 45 years ago.

3. Tomorrow, we are inaugurating the first black President.

4. The "Dream" is realized, in part.

~~~~~~~~~~

Also on the news today at noon, Heinz is removing the pickle from its label, replacing it with a tomato. The anchor said she thought this change made sense. I think, Why? The idea of ketchup is a tomato, pickled in vinegar... right?

~~~~~~~~~~

I think too much about nothing worth dwelling on.

Have a good day!

A Full Plate

2009-01-18T13:48:00.007-06:00

I often have to tell the tale of the origin of the nickname. Explaining CHELF gets my readers a little bit closer to the CHELF SPACE headline here. I think I have explained some before... but for those of you who may have forgotten, and those who have not read from the beginning, let me tell the story once more. (Oh, yeah, like I don't like talking about this!)

When I was in High School (and early in my Junior College days) I did babysitting to supplement my income from my first job. My favorite charge was a little girl named Amber. Now, Amber was VERY smart. Quick. Not just a kid who talked early, but one who comprehended more deeply at a younger age than other children around. Logic was obvious in her little two year old brain.

Our story begins with Amber being my rag doll. I carried that child all over our church building. Her mom would play "Who's Got You?" with her when she was with someone else. One day, I was holding Amber, and Mommy asked "Who's got you?"

Amber had made a point to try to say my name. Michelle is actually almost as hard as saying J names... it is long, and has a difficult transition in the middle. I had decided that maybe using the nickname I used in High School might work easier, Chelle. Just say Michelle and take out the MI. Chelle, like a sea Shell. Amber had decided somehow that my name needed an F on the end. It sounded better to her. It seemed to flow off her tongue. Chelf. With this in mind, I will tell you now that this time she answered with a huge sigh and a big hug around my neck, and she told her mom, "MY Chelf!"

I don't know when the idea really came to me, but I know that I chose to spell the nickname the way I do in order to put it on a license plate some day. When DH bought his little red hatchback, before we were married, I informed him of my dream. The very first all MY NEW CAR needed to have a special license plate that would say... you guessed it! MYCHELF!

This week, my dream was realized.

Now I think about Hammy the Squirrel in Over The Hedge: "Kinda anti-climactic."

I have been wanting not only the tag but the new car to put it on for more than 16 years. Amber is now in her Freshman year in college someplace. (I hear she graduated with honors near the tippy top of her class.) I have been working and saving and thinking toward this goal for a very long time. I haven't had my husband as long as I have sheltered this dream.

So, I had to share my joy today! This is a cliche', a dream come true. With pictures! Thank you for sharing in this silly joy of mine.

Silly Saturday

2009-01-17T13:11:00.002-06:00

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree
I love to nom your branches.
Your ornaments make lovely sounds
When I knock them to the ground!
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree
I love to nom your branches.

Belated Welcome To 2009

2009-01-16T17:46:00.005-06:00

I have not gotten very good at updating.

I went back and read the first entry of 2008. It has been a year of changes, a year of ups and downs. A year of abundance. So, I decided to put down some new goals. I need accountability buddies this year! Volunteers need to state their intentions in the comments. Please?

~~~~~~~~~~

Last year: Each year, I resolve to be more organized. It lasts anywhere from two days to three months, depending on the specific exercise I am thinking about.

This year: I am thinking actually about exercise. I have joined a gym with my DH, and we are going to work out and swim together this year. His membership was paid by his boss, and mine was a discount addition to it. I am looking forward to slimming down, but getting healthy is way more important than the numbers on the clothes or off the scale. I want to be able to walk up a flight of stairs and not be breathless at the top. This is costing money, so it is more important to me. It hurts if I don't use it, for the value. I hope to keep using this.
~~~
Last year: I also get my book list started each New Year's weekend....I would like to read through the complete Bible this year.

This year: I want to sell the books and movies that I want to weed out of our collection. I want to remove any media with cursing in it, or immoral situations that are overt and grotesque. (Easier said than done, because of some of our favorites have lots of language.) I have 17 versions of the Bible, and I am planning on studying more than reading.
~~~
Last year: This year, I have also resolved to get the house clean. Cleaner. To work on cleaning the house more often. Yeah.

This year: I wish to clear the clutter. Keeping the dishes done, and staying on top of the mountains of laundry seems overrated. But if I clear out the stuff I don't use, maybe I can keep the space more clean.
~~~
Last year: ...I resolve to blog more. I have been leaving this poor pet alone for a week at a time, and that is just not friendly.

This year: Same song, next verse. I already promised to work on this again. Much like organizing and exercising, I can do this. But keeping up with it after about May is tough. It shouldn't be... this is a way to share with YOU, my friends.
~~~
Last year: I don't usually like to "resolve" anything; other than fights, anyway.

This year: I have always made a point to NOT make resolutions. I think that serves governments better than individuals. I prefer this year to simply BE resolute.
~~~

Have a great 2009!
God Bless You.

The Winds And The Waves

2008-12-30T07:30:00.001-06:00

I have to admit that Facebook has taken way too much of my time lately. I love talking, and the chat function allows me to chat with people in other states and even other countries, with no extra programs on my computer. Unfortunately for you, I have rather ignored my blog. I never run out of things to talk about, but to write it all down takes a long time for me. I do a lot of self-editing. There are drafts that you have never seen, because I used Blogger to clear my mind, not to write for publication.

I am catching up with so many people that I had lost touch with. Honestly, I was thinking about not trying to find friends from High School, because I kept up with the two or three people who really meant something to me. The rest were... stuck in the yearbooks. But then a few of my old friends found me. It just goes to show that I cannot, should not, make assumptions about my former life.

I have a host of excuses, and none of them says why I am in a funk. I don't really know myself. I just know that I am hoping to make the next year a little more interesting and a lot less sporadic. Some Word of the Posts, some pictures, not so many monologues of craziness.

Do you make resolutions? I have always made a point to NOT make resolutions. I think that serves governments better than individuals. I prefer this year to simply BE resolute. I want to do things with intention. I want to make my time on the internet productive and useful... even profitable, if I can. I want to spend more time in God's Word. I want to read more and watch TV less. I want to move more. I want to spend time in true, meaningful meditation. I want to do more with less.

I want others to know that I serve God, and Jesus is my savior. I want them to know the joy that has brought to my life, not the misery that I have put upon my own shoulders. I want to learn about faith and other things in life from my cats. I want to share what I learn with you. I want to learn from each of you.

As 2008 slows to a halt, and 2009 winds up in preparation to fly, I wish for you the Peace that passes all understanding. We may not live in a peaceful world, but His Peace will calm us in the eye of the storm. Please enjoy this song by Scott Krippayne. (I found a fan video on You Tube.)

P.S. Marvel is snoring. Have you ever heard a cat snore?

The Results Are In

2008-12-04T10:23:00.003-06:00

Months ago, I got a new car. Brand new off the lot with less than 30 miles on it. Amazing as this is to me, I really love it. This new car is the blessing I knew it would be, and has been even better than I thought.

The question was this: In a car, is it really better to get 100% Whole Gas, or is the Ethanol Mix Gas better? We decided to test this. What better way than to test a NEW car? I should know this, so I can use the better option.

I decided that one tank of each would not be fair. They could mix and affect the results of each other. One tank of 100% Gas could be used to go to see the in-laws, the next tank of Ethanol Mix could be used only to drive to DH's work, and that would falsely change the results, as well. According to DH, the idea was to get the tank as low as possible (safely, of course) and then fill the tank with 100% Gas. Has something to do with the fumes that Ethanol causes in the tank. We emptied the car (driving for no reason to distant parts of our fair city), and filled with 100% Gas, and did so for at least 4 tank fills.

I kept careful notes. I figured the mileage for each tank, and figured the cost difference and the distance from my home to get to the 100% Gas. I also averaged all four tanks. I calculated Value.

Then, I switched. We were gone on a trip, and could not find 100% Gas. We might have used it, but we can't know. In Oklahoma, it is law to post on each pump a sticker that says if there is any Ethanol in the mix. Texas has no such laws. I wonder if that is law anywhere else? We then purposely used the 10% Ethanol mix for four tanks.

Again, I kept careful notes. I kept a record of the cost that would have been for a tank of 100% Gas every time I filled the tank with 10% Ethanol mix. I again averaged, and calculated Value.

Today, you get to hear the results.

I found that, in our New Honda Fit, it was actually better to use the....

10% Ethanol Mix Gas.

Yep. The cheap stuff is better. In my calculations. For my new car.

This may surprise many of you. It certainly surprised me. I thought that it would be the other way around. And it wasn't just the mileage. It was the cost, the distance to get the 100% stuff, and it was the fact that newer engines are built to handle the mixture better these days. I even found that one of the 100% stores did not have pay at the pump capabilities... so it was not convenient. How can that be more efficient?

I would say that an older car was built before the Ethanol was actively being added in would run more efficiently on 100% gas. This is my opinion, based on my own observation and testing of my own vehicles, not a fact studied by a group of influential people. Just saying.

So, there you have it. If you have an older car, I would say test it for yourself. Make sure to take into account the distance, cost, efficiency and even your own driving habits. Pay attention to your inflation of tires (it won't cure "global warming", but it will effect your individual mileage) and notice the time you spend sitting in traffic. It all works together.

Have a great week, and I will see you later!

More Ways To Cook A Pumpkin

2008-11-27T10:12:00.002-06:00

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

Today, I am baking a Pumpkin Dump Cake for our family Thanksgiving Dinner dessert. I will give you the recipe later.

While watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, I was disturbed by the thought that Christmas starts earlier every year. Hallmark stores put out the ornaments to collect in JUNE. The trees in our local shopping center are lit the day after Halloween. And, THIS song starts on Thanksgiving Day, or Black Friday.

Christmas has officially begun for me.

Have a Blessed Day!

The Second Season Of The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Bloggers

2008-11-25T15:56:00.024-06:00

I promised a little more light and a lot less darkness in this post. I also promised pictures. You are getting both today. As promised. Insert Smile here. :-)

This week has been a little crazy. I have had appointments, expectations, housework. I have also done without company for most of the evenings, as DH has been doing part-time radio production as well as his full-time job. I have spent a lot of time cleaning the house (the work NEVER ends, really), and more time than necessary on the laptop.

I spent this past weekend watching little ones for friends and family. This is Alex.

The first thing I heard him do when he came to my house was original. He said, "cat" and clicked at them. The last thing he did on the way out the door was deep knee bends, with shouting... I figured out that this was a mimic of Daddy, who teaches Tae Kwon Do. You can see my shoe rack by the front door in the back ground of the picture... Alex was convinced that I had my shoes organized incorrectly. He spent most of an hour rearranging them for me. Quite amusing.

This is Jelly Bean trying to hug Gum Drop, and Gum Drop having none of that. They both are great at moving all the time. It is tough to get a clear picture. I don't think pictures really do them justice.

Gum Drop had come home from a fresh hair cut - his first! He was quite handsome. Jelly Bean had gotten her really long hair trimmed, and she was the first to tell me of the difference. Here is Jelly's Hair. Yeah, I'm not jealous of the "Cousin It" view at all... No, really, I'm not!

Today was really good too. Mamma Mia and her Hunny came from Colorado, and we met for lunch today. Pumkin was sure to tell me that she didn't remember me. I told her that was OK. She had only met me once, and it was months ago! Isn't she cute?

Now, Sugar Plum's real name and Jelly Bean's real name are the same. And Hunny's name and BIL's name are the same. So we don't have a hard time remembering Mamma Mia's family's names. Sugar Plum is a cutie, too. See?

Here is the picture that her Hunny took of us. Left, Mamma Mia. Right, Chelf. I am not going to beat myself up over my opinion of my image. I have Jared to thank for making me see that the pictures are not for me, but for YOU. I know how I look and I don't like it much, but it is how I am right now. It is my present. It is my history, and may be valuable in the future when I have lost all this weight that I constantly fight with. It was a GOOD Hair Day, so I shouldn't complain at all!

I hadn't really thought of it before, but he made a face today, and I noticed how much her Hunny looks like Phil Vischer (creator of Veggie Tales). Am I crazy, or do you see it too?

{Edit: To prove the thought, remember that when Veggie Tales started, Phil Vischer was a lot younger... and had dark hair. And I have seen the "behind the scenes" extras on the videos, so that is where I think the expression I saw came from. This picture I got from his entry on Wikipedia. Here is the link. Thanks.}

The most important part of the day was lunch. No, not the eating of the lunch, but the visiting and friendship. We got to watch the kids play, and we got to have a relaxing time. These visits really don't last long enough for me. But, the girls were getting tired; the eventual result of that is, of course, cranky. Oh, and Mamma Mia brought me Pueblo, CO Green Chiles... to compare with my favorite Hatch, NM Green Chiles. I have a lot of chiles now, and it will take a lot of Chili recipes to go through it all. How yummy this winter eating will be.

I am looking for a shop to buy bulk spices... loose flavorings sold by weight. If you know of such a shop online, that is fine, but I was hoping for some place local. I live in Oklahoma City, and I am willing to go to Tulsa or Wichita, but not much further. If I can get there and back again (yes, I realize I made a literary reference... that was on purpose) in one day, I would like to have a reason to go besides the spices. Please leave me comments with your suggestions. Thanks!

I wish for everyone to have a pleasant and fulfilling Thanksgiving holiday!

Complaining To Your English Teacher For Failing Math

2008-11-20T12:15:00.004-06:00

I have been very political lately, and it has been quite by accident. Originally, I never intended to show my true feelings on some of these subjects. I have done a lot to keep things happy, pretty, and nice. I am quite opinionated, but I didn't really mean to show that to the whole world. I can have the opinions without expressing them. But lately... I can barely help myself. The issues have been so close to home, and so heated, I could not resist telling others to sit down, shut up and look at things from another perspective. Mine, of course!

I actually have wonderful close friends. We all have the freedom to speak, we are all willing to hear and express differing ideas, and still be friends even if we don't agree. My Wednesday night Bible Study class is doing the same thing, with people who aren't so much "friends" but my "church family"... which is more distant and yet closer. Yeah, I am confused, too. It all boils down to me being so blessed by the people I choose to have around me. If you are reading this, that blessing includes you.

Now for the dazzling intellectual, and still political, discussion of the moment.
~~~~~~~~~~
I am confused. When one protests, shouldn't it be near the people who did something that you didn't like, and who can do something different about it now? If one wants to oppose the passing of Prop 8 in California, shouldn't one BE IN California? I saw on the news on November 14 that a man and his friends were going to spend a cold and windy Saturday (Don't tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor!) protesting California's Prop 8 at our own State Capitol Building. In case you missed it, I live in Oklahoma.

I guess I am not an activist. I am certainly not a lobbyist, or a protester. I have handed out pamphlets, but that was to promote education about entertainment. The movie "The Day After Tomorrow" was pure fiction, and not very good fiction at that. We just wanted people to understand that they had just seen a propaganda film. The Theater Management was concerned that we were telling people not to come to their shows. Quite the contrary, we WANTED people to see the move, but to understand it. We were handing out fliers as people were exiting the show. I have decided not to do that again. What good did it really do? I would have just been annoyed with the person on the flip side of that situation.

I am all for self-expression. I am all for Civil Rights. I am even all for gay Americans to have a legal union if they want one. That probably surprises some of you. I cannot justify legislating my moral values on a world that denies God. I can influence gays one at a time, or not at all if I choose. If they want to stay in their lifestyle, God lets them, so I cannot stop them, by making their actions illegal or by telling them they are lost. I should not try to force the happy heathens of the world to abide by my values. Christ told us to abide by the laws of the land, so long as those laws do not prevent us from doing the work of God. So... if people in Connecticut want to allow gay couples to wed, I don't get to do much about it. (Doesn't stop me from SAYING whatever I wish...)

I think the issue in California, and all over the country, isn't that the "bigots" are out in force trying to clean up everyone's bedroom behavior. I think the grass-roots conservative voters are offended that gays want to call it "marriage". Call it a civil union. Call it whatever, except for marriage. I believe that "marriage" was designed by God. God calls a gay relationship a sin, but it still happens every day all over the world. The Gay/Lesbian/Transgender crowd already twisted the meaning of a simple rainbow (Christians will tell you that is also a gift from God), and now they want to twist marriage, too. Not fair!

Come up with a new word, all your own; be creative! Call it "egairram". (marriage, spelled backwards) Call it "Gommorage". Call it "Sodomage". It is a perversion of the union of one man and one woman that was created by God as a gift to mankind. Don't use the name God gave it, as you are denying the Will of God.

That is all, for now. I will make the next post something happier. Something with pictures. Something light. Something soon.

The Sound Of Silence Has A Loud Echo

2008-11-05T08:41:00.004-06:00

I wanted to blog. I needed to blog. I got to thinking of how much I have not blogged lately. I sat at the laptop, thinking of all the things I should be doing (oh, the list is long and there is a lot of work on it), and of the election results. The poem in the previous post just rather jumped out of me. It has been a long time since I wrote much poetry. I have always enjoyed writing, and I have some poetry that I would like to share here. (Buried in a box in my spare room, and pretty close to lost right now.) I can say that writing has saved my life on at least two occasions. Unfortunately, that is literal, and not figurative.

I think every girl probably thinks about suicide, especially in Jr. High, when it is fashionable to make a feeble attempt. I came to the conclusion that everyone hated me, and I was worth nothing. I believe God nudged me to call a friend, and talk it out, and she nudged me to write it all down. Those were some powerful poems, and I may never share them with anyone. I don't quite "get" them anymore. I read one a few weeks ago, and was struck by how morbid it sounded, and how I left it there. I never really resolved the poem, even though it had helped me to resolve my feelings. No wonder the people who read it (all 2 of them) thought I was still in the gloom.

I will have you all know (please, no desperate calls) that I am fine. I am not in a funk, even though the election didn't make me happy. I have some family issues that are causing minor stress, but God is here, and I am going to make it.

Speaking of family... my Grams is in the hospital right now with a bad case of pneumonia. I have been hearing from the Aunts for two years or more that the next big bad cold she got might be the end of her. If it becomes necessary to gather the family, Mom would have to come from NM to KS, and travel would be slow and quite inconvenient. I don't know what to ask for, other than your good thoughts and prayers. I don't know the path for Grams' health. All I know is that God is in control of it all, and I want HIM to be the one to make the tough choices, and I need HIM to hold my hand through it all.

I need more sunshine. Winter is hard for me, I get stuck in the Seasonal Affect blues, and it is hard to snap out of them. Even when I am not out IN the sunshine, having it through the window is good.

OK, for those of you who have been in my house at any time in the past four years.... I mopped the kitchen. Yes, you read me right, I mopped! I am cleaning for the jewelry party I am having on Friday night... and I decided that the house needed to be clean. People would notice if I didn't clean a little deeper, so I got a new mop and got out the Pine Sol Lemon, and I mopped. Once I find the floor underneath all the boxes in the dining room, I plan to mop that too. Have I said recently how much I hate housework? And that I have never really had a clean house to maintain? Yeah, I am trying to change that this week.

I am such a procrastinator. This week has been all about moving stuff from view, and cleaning the dust bunnies that have hidden underneath it for far too long. I should have done this almost 2 years ago, when I first quit my job to stay home. Ah, well. At least I will have something nice to show for it. A party! With friends! And they may not be scared to come back to my home!

Enough procrastinating now, too. I am going to take some of this junk to Goodwill, and move the rest of it around, and clean more of the floor.

Have a sparkly day!

How Long?

2008-11-05T08:20:00.003-06:00

How long shall silence sit in cloister?
What shall free my soul of fear?
The God of all will judge,
The gavel is not mine to wield.

How long shall fretting be my path?
What shall calm my stormy thoughts?
The God of all will rule,
The life I live is His to guide.

How long shall honor work to free?
What shall protect the soldiers?
The God of all is with them,
Their safety in His mighty wing.

How long shall governance oppress?
What shall feed the hungry heart?
The God of all is with me yet,
The food I share is His gift.

How long shall righteousness be trampled?
What shall make her stand once more?
The God of all supports her foot,
The goal invisible is her reward.

How long shall mourning steal my joy?
What shall bring dancing to these halls?
The God of all leads the band,
The first and last dances His card holds.

I Didn't Mean To Stay Quiet So Long, Though

2008-10-13T07:57:00.014-05:00

Hello again, readers!

I have just been so busy. I know that excuse won't hold water with some of you, because you understand the housework part of my job of Homemaker. Sure, I probably could have put something up here. But when I tell you some of the exciting news around here, you will maybe forgive me for a week or two of distance?

On Tuesday last week, Oct. 7, DH and I should have been awake when the phone rang. SIL's babysitter was sick, and SIL needed someone to watch the Niecephews. I sleepily agreed. And then rushed to get out of the house in less than an hour, and over there as soon as possible, so BIL could go to work.

We had a blast! We played so much, I thought Gum Drop was going to fall over where he stopped, and sleep for hours. Thinking back on my own childhood, I realized that the most fun we had playing indoors on cool days was building forts out of couch cushions and blankets and bed sheets. Jelly Bean had already watched an episode of Dora where they had to go through a tunnel. I got smart, and pulled an ottoman away from its over-sized chair, and strew a throw blanket over it, and called it a tunnel.

As you can see, I was blessed with awesome helpers! This was well into the process, they wouldn't let it stay up long enough for me to get a picture.

We learned action verbs. Over....

Under....

....and last, but not least is Through!

There was much tickling and more laughing that day than I have had in a long time. Those kids do me good. They remind me how much fun life can be, and how to use my imagination again.

Gum Drop is learning quickly how to talk, and he is walking and chasing and running now. He said, ever so clearly, "Drink", "Thank You", "No", and I am certain that he tried to say "Pacifier". They tell me now he also says "Hot Dog", but I didn't hear that one. He says "Uh-Oh" and then drops his cup on the floor, which if it weren't so ornery would be funny. He waits for an audience, does something cute, and then yays for himself. He likes very much to test fate, and looks at you with a sneaky grin if he knows he is doing something that he knows not to. Like climbing on the coffee table, for one. SIL says he is Sneaky, FAST, and Persistent. And, boy oh boy, is she right about her boy!

Before the laptop gives me any more funny noises, I am going to take a short intermission.

Cue the Dramatic Music...

So Much For Staying Quiet

2008-10-03T19:30:00.006-05:00

So much for keeping politics off the blog.

I watched the VP Debate. I don't want to tell you whom to vote for. I don't want to question YOUR intelligence. The politicians, however, I seriously want to question.

I wanted Sarah Palin to be a lot more forceful against Joe Biden's lies. And they were outright lies, make no mistake. He is wrong on so many issues, and he flipped and flopped all over himself to accept the nomination. It is seriously disgusting. He said he thought that John McCain would make a better President than Barak Obama. Out loud and on tape.

Joe Biden was misquoting someone, and added his own thoughts... and in the process contradicted himself. I wonder how many people caught it? Glenn Beck didn't even write it in his own notes on the debate. First he said the surge didn't work, and then said we needed more troops in the very next sentence. I don't think there was a breath in there. Jerk. The surge DID work, even some Democrats will say so.

Joe Biden acted for a while like he was talking down to everyone. But I noticed that Sarah Palin gained confidence as the debate wore on. She asked him right up front "can I call you Joe?" and then used that against him, "say it ain't so, Joe!". She appeals to the realness of middle America. She is a working mom with all the same issues every other mom in America has... double over some. She kept her composure, didn't mispronounce words (except repeatedly saying "nucyoular" instead of "nuclear", but that is an area dialect issue and made me want to hit mute...), and didn't mince words. I just wish she had used some force.

I don't like that Sarah didn't answer some of the questions in the direct manner that was desired by the moderator (and Joe Biden), but I believe that she proved that she would be careful and would be totally prepared to take over should the worst possible end happen to John McCain. I don't think he is in danger of death in the next four years, any more than I think Dick Cheney is going to keel over tomorrow. The "good old boys" are not in that bad a state of health.

I wrote down a thought, but I can't remember who said what sparked the thought. One of them said we were not perfect... and I thought, no, we can't be perfect. But the Founding Fathers knew that, and made a point of saying that we were trying to form a "more perfect union". We (They) were trying to create the best option on Earth. I thnk they succeeded, and following generations have improved upon the basic start. I don't want to say that we are perfect, because that is too high a standard. We are, however, and will continue to be THE single greatest Nation on planet Earth.

I believe that Obama wants to manipulate that Nation to his own benefit. I don't want him leading my Country. I will, however, stand with him if he wins the election. I will, in the words of Hillary Clinton, express my Patriotic feelings by dissenting every stinking step of the long abusive four years. I hope that my vote, your vote and every vote that comes in prevents Obama/Biden from living in the White House. You can, and should, vote your opinion, heart, and issues. These are just mine.

Cindy McCain may want to redecorate, as many women before her.

But what if Michelle Obama paints the house black?

Discount Spelling Causes Business Laughs Galore

2008-10-01T13:40:00.024-05:00

Word of the Post
Today's word is: palindrome
/pal"in*drome/ noun
The word literally means to run back again. This is the term for a word or phrase that is the same both forward and backward. Examples: Hannah, lol, madam. Go check out Weird Al Yankovic's song called BOB. The whole of the lyrics are palindromes.
~~~~~~~~~~
I just want to say that I have not forgotten my blog. I have not forgotten any of my diligent readers. I have taken pictures, so this should make up for the lack of words, right?

This is a local Discount Tire store that recently opened. They need a new sign painter, can you tell me why?

This is the first Cat Scan of the cool box we got from Flea. Marvel is soft and sweet, and curious to know what was in the box. I think the package passed the scan.

This was the Second Opinion. Mystic is very good at knowing when something is not for her, and getting into it anyway. By now, the box has been opened, emptied, and still passed the thorough scan.

The mug came! DH was so excited! He is the one who won the contest for her picture, and he chose to get a mug (the other choice was a t-shirt) with his own caption. Would this qualify Fred and Bessie as LOLCows? (As opposed to LOLCats with their own website.)

The caption that won the day and the mug! I still have yet to see DH use his mug, but it has been washed and is now waiting for his hot cocoa. We need cooler weather so he can be happy to drink hot cocoa.

Not to gross you out or anything, but this was my work today. We had a wooden seat that was old, and cracked and needed to be changed. This job took me almost an hour and a half. The removal of the old took FOREVER! The cleaning up and attachment of the new (pictured here) took less than ten minutes. Yeah, I took a shower after this, because... eew.

There are these pretty flowers that grow in the summer at my house. There were once daffodil bulbs in the little flower patch by the porch. I don't even know what this stuff is, but it is brilliantly pink, and there is just one localized patch of them. I have several pictures of them. I also had the mosquito bites to prove that I was outside in the cool, cool, cool of the evening for more that two seconds.

THIS is the oddest picture I think I shall ever see. This is a marching band, in the shape of the State of Oklahoma (it is upside down from his nosebleed seat).

This was taken by MY DH, at the Oklahoma State vs. Troy football game this past Saturday. Now, anyone who knows my DH knows that he is an OU (University of Oklahoma) fan, and that naturally means he is not an OSU fan. But when you get free tickets handed to you, you take them, no matter what team you watch.

DH's friend from his Friday Night Finals job had an extra ticket, and offered to take DH to the game. DH was a good boy, and didn't wear OU stuff to an OSU game. He went because I said he could, and because he loves college football. He had a blast, and both Oklahoma teams won against past troubles. All in all, it was a good night. I was surprised he wanted to go.

This is my friend Pam and her daughter Tulle, playing the "Beating Nemo" game at a gathering after a church service. The tail gave way long before the rest of the fish gave up its candy. Tulla is a cutie, and when everyone had gotten their fill of destroying the pinata, DH was standing nearby while Pam and Tulle and I were cleaning candy off the ground. She didn't say anything to him, but she went and got his hand, and brought him over to "help" pick up the candy. We all got a good laugh out of it. Pam said that DH had been told, and that he was expected to help. He stopped helping when Tulle went back inside... the ground is a long way down from 6 ft up.

"He touched the butt!" This is the punishment for being Nemo. He pooped Tootsie Rolls. It was way more violent than a church group should have had so much fun with.

This is my MIL petting the biggest dog I have seen in a long time. A few weeks ago, we went to DH's Great Uncle's funeral in TX. This was Great Uncle's dog, Klondike. Gentle Giant of a dog, sweet and friendly, and just looking for someone to scritch his ears.

He was as big as half the couch. He is getting old, too. It took a lot to get up from the floor when he laid down... and he laid down right in the middle of the room several times. There were so many of us in the house, poor Klondike was always in the way. What would you do for a Klondike dog? I did a lot of ear scritching. And I nearly lost a leg when he sat on me! I was originally in that seat he is blocking, and my circulation was cut off. DH said once that he could eat our two cats, and nobody would notice. (Of course the cats would notice, and I would notice them missing!)

Tomorrow, if not before, one of my friends is having her third baby. She is scheduled for a C-section tomorrow morning, really early. I am going to help her dad with babysitting her twins while she is early in the hospital. Yep, you read that right. She has twin boys, and is having another boy with this delivery. Did I mention that the twins are barely over a year old? No? Oh, well that seemed important. The boys are so cute, and another will only be more cuteness in the world. Her husband works so hard, and at last news to me, was looking for another job.

I need to go shopping. If it were only for shoes and hair bands, it would be fun, but this is for staples. Not the kind that go into paper, the kind that are required shopping list items.

Enjoy your adventures this week!

Change Is A-Coming.... There Are Term Limits, After All

2008-09-26T21:33:00.005-05:00

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.

Veni, Vidi, Venti

2008-09-23T10:27:00.012-05:00

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.

Personal Foul On The Offense, Five Yard Penalty, Repeat The Down!

2008-09-12T22:43:00.009-05:00

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.

Party All The Time

2008-09-06T15:38:00.017-05:00

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!

Beware Of Splinters

2008-09-06T07:37:00.000-05:00

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.

Do The Lost Souls Really Congregate In Tulsa?

2008-09-05T12:20:00.000-05:00

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

Motivation Revisited

2008-08-25T14:26:00.000-05:00

Note: All scriptures noted in this post are copy/paste in New International Version from Bible Gateway.

I know my last post on this subject seemed like it came in from way out in left field. It is an old subject. I have been mulling over this much more, recently, since the AFA link was sent to me by a member of my church community. Flip Flop Mamma posted about the church (not one kind of denomination, but Christendom at large) needing to be accepting of homosexuals into their assemblies. Go check out her post, she has some great thoughts (even if I don't totally agree with her on all of it). She has a perspective of this that is different than my own. Her post sparked my thoughts and this discussion here.

I have said (in real life) that having the tendency to be attracted to the same sex isn't the sin, it is choosing to live in that lifestyle. All humans can choose a celibate life.

I don't want to argue with others about whether a gay is born that way or nurtured that way. I cannot believe that God CREATES gays, and then tells us that being gay is a SIN. God does not create sin. I think that "disease" is a result of sin. The original fall, the first sin, allows for bad things to happen. I referenced Romans 1:27 in the last post. This time I will post the actual verse and explain a little further.

Romans 1:27 In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion.

This verse says there is a due penalty, a punishment, for having same sex relations. Inferred is that this penalty is physical and earthly, not spiritual and eternal. I believe this is AIDS. Many diseases were classified as "natural causes" when people died, before their causes were discovered and they were given names in modern medical history. I can't imagine that heart-clogging cholesterol is really new. Nor is the common cold, flu, cancer, diabetes, herpes, leprosy or AIDS.

Children are born every day with horrible diseases, and they did nothing wrong to acquire them. No child deserves AIDS, cancer or even asthma. Having diseases is not a sin. It is a punishment. (Don't get all mad yet, keep reading! Plenty of reason to get mad at me later.) In the Bible, some of the punishments God handed out were extended to the 7th or 10th generation down from the sinners. We have to live with the consequences of our actions, both good and bad. Our children sometimes have to live with our consequences. A child living without a parent while a dad or mom is in jail is a child who has consequences without committing sin.

I also will tell you that not all sicknesses are punishment for sin. I do not believe that I get ear infections because I do something that is against God. I don't get them for being a bad person. I get them because water gets trapped in my ears, or because my body reacts badly to cow milk. Allergies and other airborn maladies are not the result of direct sin. The common cold does not float around looking to alight upon the worst sinner it finds.

Sometimes bad things happen to us for good reasons. We may live our entire lives not knowing that reason. The Jews of Jesus' day thought that disease was a result of sin.

John 9:1-3
1 As he (Jesus) went along, he saw a man blind from birth.
2 His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"
3 "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.

The church should accept homosexuals with open arms. But we can't let them stay in their sin. This is the part that "unchurched" people balk at. They want us to let gays be gay, and preach that being gay is OK, when God's word clearly states it is NOT OK.

The church is full of broken people. A place for the sick, the infirm. Hospital. Not a museum of the greatness of humanity. Christians are not perfect, they are forgiven. This is REHAB, people. The place where we try God's new way, we learn how to live again, with the help of others. This is not the Olympics of Purity. We don't show off how good we are... we rejoice when we make small steps toward our recovery.

The church should also accept murderers, hookers, liars, thieves and the proud. The church should accept me. Should accept you. Should help us fix our brokenness, not condemn the bad job we have done so far. Once we go through that door, we should be helped to become better, become like Christ.

Comment from last time, by Flea: "I think, too, that Paul says it well in I Cor. 5:9-13. I think that's what you are saying. At the same time, I hear you saying that you're calling out the sinners who aren't Christians. Specifically the homosexuals. It's been a struggle for me for awhile, this sin versus the ones Christians are comfortable with, like gluttony." (Bold emphasis mine, not Flea's.)

For the benefit of those who don't know the scriptures like they know their own name, here is the passage to which Flea refers. (Yeah, I had to look it up. I don't know everything. See? Pride, right out the window here.)

I Cor. 5:9-13
9 I have written you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people—
10 not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave this world.
11 But now I am writing you that you must not associate with anyone who calls himself a brother but is sexually immoral or greedy, an idolater or a slanderer, a drunkard or a swindler. With such a man do not even eat.
12 What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside?
13 God will judge those outside. "Expel the wicked man from among you."

I agree with Flea that Paul says it best here. In verse 13, that "expel from among you" is an internal instruction; do not let such a man (brother living a lie) stay as a part of your community. I do not want to call out the people who are not part of the church. They are outsiders, and not willingly under the same rules I have accepted. I do want to call to sinners who aren't Christians, not to call them to the mat for their sin, but to offer them the love, peace and forgiveness that God offers freely. The world doesn't often wish to change. They don't see that what they do is against God, and they certainly don't see the eternally damaging results.

I don't want to say that there are no homosexuals in the church, because people are people, and their issues are their own. There are recovering homosexuals in the church. There are recovering dieters, recovering alcoholics. There are divorced people in my congregation, and God hates divorce. I am fat. I have no excuse for it. I make the excuses that I have hormonal issues (which I do, but it should not be my crutch) and I say that I am not good at exercising. But I also concede that I alone have control over what I put in my mouth, and I have not exercised that control. Glutton, just as pointed out.

I have the grace of God. He doesn't want to leave me in this pit of food addiction. God doesn't want to leave me alone any more than He wants Satan to be against Him. Understand this: God even wants to save Satan. Satan has different ideas. Satan fell, by his own willing rebellion against God. He wishes to take as many of us as he can away from God, to hurt God. Satan loves it when we are pitted against one another on the technicalities of our beliefs. When we argue, we are not doing the will of God.

The Amazing part of Grace is that, while God meets us wherever we are, He refuses to leave us there. How can we help but be transformed after being washed by the Creator of everything?

If a homosexual comes to my church, I have no right to call him/her out for the life they are leading. If they come to be added by God, baptized to forgive their sins, then I have nothing to hold against them. That sin is gone, just like my self-loathing is gone, by the grace afforded to any who accept it. However, if they go back to that lifestyle after accepting God's gift of salvation... I suddenly have an obligation to point out what God has to say about it. Not because I want to be the first to point out their faults, but because I want to be the first to help them. I would expect no less from any member of my congregation toward me.

Our first job is to share the good news of Jesus' death, burial and resurrection.

I have had an epiphany, of sorts, over the past two years. I have spoken to people who are being the hands and feet of Jesus, and I have watched how to be a loving person to the broken sinner in the street. It is a special job. I have a firm grip on my own prejudices, and my fear, and my pride. Those little pews help me to be so self-righteous! I want to tell the world about Jesus. The world sees me coming in my naivete', and does their best job to knock me down. I don't want to call out the average Joe in the street, but I don't want the average Joe to call me out, either. It is a continual tug-of-war.

We are not supposed to judge the sins of others. That is God's job. I don't do well at giving up that job. I took it from God, and I am loathe to give it back. I am more likely to share about my new toy (I did buy a camera this weekend.) than I am to say out loud that I want a friend who is not saved to meet my Jesus. That is a fault I am working to change. I am not there yet.

I am still in Rehab.

This Dream Was Played In Technicolor Brilliance

2008-08-18T08:28:00.006-05:00

I never sleep well when the weather changes quickly. I can sleep through an ambulance blaring past my window, a lot of neighborhood dogs barking, and any alarm clock ever made. I cannot sleep through wind without rain, a male speaking my name, or a ringing telephone. This morning, rainclouds moved in. I had no sunshine to remind me to get up. I had the soft sounds of "rain on the plain" to keep me in my slumber. This morning, I could not sleep through to the end of my dream. I awoke with a terrible backache. Serves me right for stressing in my sleep, I guess.

Let me set the stage. It was a not yet dark, and kinda stormy night. The "gangstas" were all out, and trouble brewed a palpable haze over the city. My friend was having a birthday. I went to a Wal-Mart to get her a card.

I had gone shopping downtown (anyone who knows me knows that I avoid downtown like the plague, so here we have fiction) to get a birthday card for my friend, and look at gifts, too. It started raining outside, and then inside (great neighborhood, let me tell ya). I had several blocks to walk, and a couple of turns to get back to my car. Here is where the stress builds, the music does the Dunnn-dun-duh that tells you not to go where you are going. I couldn't find my car. I couldn't remember which car I had driven there. I couldn't remember where I parked. I was searching the streets for one silver Chevy Malibu or one silver-blue Honda Fit. Yep, my dreams are at least up to date.

So, for the next three or so imagined hours, I am carrying two bags from my shopping, searching for one of my two cars. I casually stood in a line (I suppose to get into the dance club I was walking past) and ended up walking/riding in a car with three gang members. I was afraid to say much, because they might kill me. We walked or rode past a lot of fights. Viscious children. I watched them steal another car (a trap, but that is because I saw the guy who owned the car waiting for them to take it, so he could call the cops). I refused to ride in that one.

In the end, I remember one really creepy detail, and I am right now copyrighting this dream, so don't get any ideas about using it, OK? And, for My First Nicki Friend in parts East, you may want to stop reading this post now. Trust me. No more. Go back and read another post, find one about the Niecephews. You will regret it if you read further. Just warning you. It creeped me out, and I am the one who imagined it. OK, now that we have that cleared up and Nicki is still reading just for curiosity's sake...

One of the male gang members (There were three, one girl, two guys) tossed a spider at me, to test me. I remember it was dark brown and kinda scary looking. I somehow caught it in the hood of my jacket, and tossed it back at him, with a snide remark. That would have been clever of me. But... he was starting to talk when I flicked the spider, and it went in his mouth. (I will wait while everyone screams, cringes, and generally wonders if I have lost my marbles.) I was too grossed out to finish that thought, even in the dream. Ugh. The next scene is me asking where a park is, because that is near where I knew I parked the car.

This incomplete thought brought to you without commercial interruption by the Mind of Chelf, Nighttime Edition. It is completely fiction, because she would never shop downtown (where there isn't a Wal-Mart handy) and she would never go in the dark to a dangerous area BY HERSELF, and then simply "forget" where her car is. The moral of the story is this: Don't shop last minute for a card. It might get you killed, in dreams and in the real world. You really can never know.

I hear that if you dream your death, you really die. That sounds too scary to suggest to the Mythbusters. I wouldn't want them to try it, because there is really no safe way to test it, and no way to be certain. Who would say that, anyway? Did they (the mysterious "they" everything gets blamed on... and who are "they", really?) get revived from a death-dream to tell us that they dreamed it?

So, there you have it. I have creepy dreams that don't seem to mean much. I have aspirations that are tough and time consuming. I have lots of things I am capable of, but don't know how to start. So, I need to apparently write for some horror film now. I could make money, if I tried. I could write my dreams into horror movies; I could build a purse that actually holds stuff without being too big or heavy to begin with; I could name a few Ty Brand (Should that have the little TM symbol near it? I don't know how to do that with a keyboard.) Beanie Babies. My personal favorite fantasy future jobs are these: I could do voices for cartoon movies, probably with PIXAR/Disney (mostly because it is PIXAR, not because it is Disney); I could proofread for publishing houses back east by telecommuting (first reader has also been suggested to me); I could write.

I am not really awake yet, even half an hour later. I am not a morning person. The fact that I remembered this much of the dream, and communicated it in a mostly coherent fashion is some serious morning mojo I am not used to.

I am off to make something warm to drink. Beware to any little buggie that tries to cross my path today. The adrenaline and fear are still in me.

How was your weekend?

Oh, I Believe In Yesterday, Too, Sir Paul!

2008-08-16T01:21:00.007-05:00

Honestly, this was a few days ago, but the joke and the memory will warm my insides for a while.

August 5, Sir Paul McCartney was in my beloved home town. He ate at a restaurant in Bricktown that I (cannot afford) have not tried, and he stayed the night in an historic hotel that I (may never have the pleasure of seeing at all) have only seen in pictures.

We have a local free paper called Oklahoma Gazette. They have a section of odd, political, humorous, or just plain crazy news that happens in or to Oklahoma, called Chicken Fried News. In CFN, they titled this bit "Live and Let Dine". Aren't they clever? While I think they made much ado about nothing, they were not alone. By 4 pm, the local talk radio station I chat over... er... listen to, was bragging about it at every news break. Every ten minutes, I hit the mute button for a few moments. Unfortunately for KTOK, they stayed mute most of the afternoon.

Rumor has it that Sir Paul ate quiche, special ordered from a list in his head that was not on the menu. I suppose when you make enough money to own Bricktown, you can order whatever you wish, no matter what the menu offers. Our chat group discussed this for a few moments. Most of us, while wondering if he would be willing to stand on the top of the shortest building in the area and play a few songs and sign a few autographs, were asking the obvious questions. Was he a jerk or a nice guy? How long would he stay? Why was he in town? How much did he tip the waiter? Important things, wouldn't you agree?

Rumor also has it that the tip will cover said waiter's household expenses for a significant amount of time. I bet he got more for NOT being a stupid crazed fan in front of the new girlfriend. I would certainly expect no less.

I have never been the screaming teen type of starstruck fan. Ask Wes McKenzie. I offered him a Dr. Pepper when a bunch of us were watching a movie one night, and he was slaving away in the radio station on campus at O.C. I bet without my hubby nearby, he doesn't even know who I am. (Ferret and I tried to hide in his apartment once during a tornado, because he was downstairs, and her apartment was upstairs. He may remember that...) But I know that he once sang bass with AVB. My only wish when I came to O.C. was to sit in chapel someday with Rodney Britt on one side of me, and Wes McKenzie on the other, and let the two greatest bass singers I have ever met rattle me out of my chair. I like sitting next to DH in church, because he sings bass too. Bro is a good singer, and he and DH have flanked me, and we had Mac Daddy sitting behind us. Mac Daddy has more projection than DH has, but they both can sing equally low, deep and rattling.

I have always figured that celebrities are people. They just want to be talked to, respected and treated with the dignity us poor folk should give any peasant or king. I don't like to be screamed at, why should they like it? I said on August 5 that I would have expected a big tip from Sir Paul, had I been that wait person. The standard 15-20% plus a little somethin'-somethin' for not being a crazy weird autograph hound.

I have met a few celebs in my short life. You may or may not have heard of Sandy Fries. Yes, it is spelled like French Fries, but pronounced Freeze. Any guesses as to whom he is? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? He is a writer, and he wrote one whole episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation for Will Wheaton. It was called Coming of Age, and it first aired in March of 1988, which makes it now 20 years ago. One of the Directors or Creators came to him and said something short and simple like... "Wesley Crusher is going to Starfleet Academy. Go." What a bundle of inspiration! I met him and got his autograph when he came to Farmington, NM to speak at San Juan College about Creative Writing, back in my early college days in the early 90's.

I have an autographed picture of Mark Lowry. I spoke to him personally, and we shared a laugh. I was working at Glory Be! Christian Books and Gifts in Farmington, and he came to do a concert. My friend Kim P. and I both went. I had met her working for the Hallmark store in the mall, and we became fast friends as sisters in Christ. This was his Mouth In Motion tour, and he sang "Mary Did You Know". He wrote the lyrics! If you ever hear Kenny Rogers and Wynonna Judd sing this one, it will make chills run up and down your spine. Seriously. Stirring and thoughtful song. His opening act was a little girl who had such a powerful voice. Her stage name was JoAnna Rae, and she had the vocal power of Whitney Houston, and the range (that young voice) of Mariah Carey. She was about 9 years old at the time, and so tiny. Mr. Lowry was blown away, as were most of the audience.

I met also at a concert in Farmington, the singer (Insert Memory Card here...). {Edit: Found it! The memory engram was found, and now has been uploaded. His name was Grover Levy.} He was signing CD's well into the night. The package came with a music CD and a DVD Rom of extras. I told him that the second disc did me no good, as I didn't have a computer. He said, "That's OK, I don't either!" He was a teacher, and used some of his students in his songs. He was the most friendly of that concert. Margaret Becker was rude to my brother that day. He had worked his tush off carrying her equipment into the Civic Center, and had helped her crew set it up and later helped to tear it down. The least she could have done was smile, say thanks, and not be offended when someone asked for an autograph. She didn't even stay after the show like the two other acts did, so I never met her. I suppose I didn't miss much.

I once rode on the same plane as John Denver. From Houston to Denver. He was in First Class, and probably in the first seat. I was in the VERY STINKING BACK SEAT of the plane, next to the Flight Attendants' kitchen. I thought I saw him, but was not convinced. Could it have been? Naw. Why would he fly commercial? He has a pilot's license. Well, it WAS John Denver, and he had not died yet while flying his own plane. Such a close brush with greatness. He was my favorite singer, back in the early 80's when he was still being shown in reruns of the Muppet Show, and was still appearing regularly on Sesame Street. The nice attendant and several other passengers were trying to think of his songs, and I came up with more by myself than they did combined. I wasn't really a fan at that time, so that rather surprised me.

Farmington is so out of the way, and kinda small, but it has its share of celebrity rolling through town. I got to see Mr. Former Vice President Dan Quayle while he was campaigning. I was too far past the ropes, and people were getting arrested for trying to do anything more than shake the man's hand. I got pictures from a random lady in the crowd. She got a little closer than me, and offered to take my camera with her. We swapped addresses, and mailed each other copies of our photographs.

DH and I, along with a few friends, saw Ringo Starr and his All Starr Band in concert at Frontier City a few years ago. There were a few people smoking weed a few rows ahead of us, and I came away from there with such a headache! It was my first time to get high. My first, last, ONLY time to get high. That headache didn't go away for almost two days. I don't know why people pay for that feeling. Ugh. Terrible. DH is a HUGE Beatles fan, and Ringo is his favorite. I personally liked Paul best, not only because he is the cute one, but for his long and lifetime marriage to Linda, his work with Wings (also a wife project), and his eagerness to join forces with others for the benefit of a charity.

On August 6, DH and I built a spur-of-the-moment parody of Yesterday. He started by just singing that one word, the most popular word of Paul's most memorable song. Even people who don't really like the Beatles know about the story of Sir Paul singing "Scrambled Eggs". Even if that was not true, we choose to believe the legend, because it makes us feel better. I added something about how he was in town presumably for the funeral of Mr. Murcer (some sports legend I don't know about) because his "friend passed away" and "he didn't eat at Hideaway", which is a local pizza joint that is pretty good... I don't remember it all now, but it was enough to make us laugh. My simple mind at work... you are all so very much in trouble.

Which brings us full circle to last week... and the fact that my obsessed hubby did not know until later that a beloved Beatle was nearby. I am not sure what gizmo or doodad was off, but something was wrong with my world for several moments. I only hope that the fine City of Oklahoma City did not show her petticoats of hick redneck starstruck idiots, but was a lady showing all the refinement she could. I pray that Sir Paul had a fine time here, and was given an extra huge helping of the classical Hospitality this state is known for.

What's Your Motivation?

2008-08-11T20:15:00.002-05:00

Apparently, I am motivated by hate.

I know this may shock most of you. My brother might agree, but the rest of you don't know me as the mean teenager I once was.

From the American Family Association, we now hear that those who are opposed to Same Sex Marriages are motivated by hate.

McDonald's has joined forces with gay rights groups, and while I never was a fan of McDonald's, this is the basis for the AFA to call for a boycott. Now, I don't want you thinking that buying one less cheeseburger will really stop the madness. Boycotts are not the best answer, but they are not completely useless, either. However, that is not the issue I wish to discuss. I wish to discuss the real issue at hand.

Homosexuality is a sin. God condemns it in the Bible. It is against His plan for nature, it is against His law, it is against everything I believe in. But...

While I believe in God and do my best to follow his laws (obedience in my freedom in Christ), not everyone on this planet, or even in this country, believes the same way I do. Not even my own father, it seems, has the exact same views. Shocking, isn't it? There are people in this country who worship other ideas, created images, or creation itself. Many other kinds of religion have flooded society with lies, shades of truth, and information out of context. And, unfortunately, they have the right as Americans... no, as Humans... to do so.

I believe that everyone would benefit from a relationship with Christ. The church is His Bride; we are a people that He adores, and wishes to bring home with Him. Even Christ understands that Humans are proud. We are not fond of being in a relationship at all, much less the best one with Him. We like our love to be shallow; we settle for physical pleasure and call it love. We are so ignorant of what real, honest, true Love actually is.

So, as our hate-monger selves, Christians go around trying to legislate the lives of the unchurched. And vice-versa. Which causes a lot of strife. The Bible tells Christians this: 1 Corinthians 5:12-13a "For what have I (Paul wrote this letter) to do with judging outsiders? (those not in the church) Do you not judge those who are within the church? But those who are outside, God judges." (Notations in parentheses are mine.)

Same Sex Marriages are nothing more than an attempt by a sinful people to give previously denied "rights" to people who are already sinning. If you are the one person in the waiting room while your partner dies in an emergency room, that is not right. To say that only a spouse or blood family member can be in the room is just... inhumane. There are many people who are single or orphans who have none but their closest friends with them. It has nothing to do with one's choice of sexuality. Those basic human rights, to be close to a loved one in a time of crisis, have been denied for many humans. Homosexual couples should not have to demand that courtesy, it should be handed to them with the same care as any human would get. I believe that hospitals have not adapted on this subject to truly serve the public at large. On the hospital side of things, they have the obligation to limit how many people come into strategic areas, but they should not limit whom.

If you choose to live with a person of the same sex and you want to insure your partner, I believe the government has no right to deny that. The insurance companies can argue, but on the basis of health only. They must operate within the laws of the land and the rules in their own policies. It is bad business to deny taking money from customers who need and want your services.

All this is to say that while I have beliefs that homosexuality is wrong, and the people living in that lifestyle choice are going to hell, I do not want the American Government to make laws for or against such behavior. Not the Government's job. (Back to Paul here... we have no jurisdiction over "outsiders", and they have no jurisdiction over the church, either.)

Atheists (which I believe is a religion, but that discussion is also for another time) want Christians to stop demanding God in everything, which is against our relationship. Christians want Atheists to stop ignoring the God of everything, which is against their guesses about the universe. God makes no sense to those who deny that God exists. The tolerance demanded of Christ's followers is not applied to them in equal measure.

Stating the sentence that has already been set for an offense is NOT judging. Those who don't want to hear what I have to say will tell me (yes, I hear this in person a LOT) what the Bible says, but out of context. "Judge not, lest ye be judged." They don't know where to find it, but they know it is in there. This is in Matthew 7:1. Notice how they like to quote good old King James? The education of youth really does stick with you.

I am not making a judgment. I am reciting the sentence that God Himself handed down.

If I told you the penalty for speeding was a ticket, and I could tell you the amount of money you must pay for each of the miles per hour you were above the limit, that is not a judgment. That is a reminder of the sentence. It doesn't change that I want for you to never speed again.

If I told you that the penalty for killing in cold blood is your own death in an electric chair, that is not a judgment. That is a reminder of the sentence. I have not witnessed the murder, bypassed the trial, or condemned you to that death. I have merely stated what law is on the books.

If I told you that the penalty for homosexuality is a life cut short by an unthinkable virus (I think Romans 1:27 shows that God allows AIDS as a result of sin. Not a popular opinion, I know.) followed by a short trip to hell, that is not a judgment. That is a reminder of the sentence. I have not lived the lifestyle choice for you, nor have I argued with you about whether you were born with those tendencies. I have simply shown you where God will judge in the end.

Not believing in God does not stop the fact that He exists, or the fact that you will face Him.

God is the Judge, Jesus is your Defense Attorney. If you don't have THE Attorney, your Defense is lost. God will have no choice, if you are not repentant, but to hand down the verdict that you earned, that last thing you cannot deny... the Judgment that I can predict. No human will escape the Judgment. Read that again, in case you missed it. NO HUMAN will escape the Judgment. We all will have to stand before God, and those with Jesus as their Attorney will receive grace and mercy from the laws they have broken. Those without Jesus will receive the punishments they earned by breaking God's laws. I don't have the right, or the desire, to judge. I didn't write the laws, I can't even interpret them. I break them all the time. We all do, and little white lies are just as sinful as murder, pride and hate. There is prescribed punishment for sin.

There is no defense without Jesus.

The problem I see here is that the world doesn't see the rest of the story. In Romans 1:32, God tells us that those who practice such things (outlined in the verses above) are worthy of death. But then it says that those who heartily approve of such sins and the people who practice them are also worthy of death. If I ever say that it is OK for anyone to be gay, I am worthy of the same death they are subject to. God hates the sin of sexual immorality so much, that if I agree with one who is in that lifestyle, I am going to hell too. Pretty sobering stuff. Notice I did not say that God hates people. He absolutely does not. But, He cannot be in the presence of a willful sinner.

I cannot agree that homosexuality is OK. I cannot sit by and let people in my family and friend circle go to hell, without at least a conversation. I have to say something. I have to try.

I don't want anyone to go to hell, but God says some will. He doesn't want them to go there, either, but He will allow them to make their own mistakes, and give them chances to repent. That is the amazing thing about God's true Love. I think He would have sent Christ, even if it only meant that one of us would be saved. Out of the Billions of humans who have ever lived, I truly believe that Jesus would have come to save only ONE. This salvation isn't limited to ONE, though. You could have it, just as I have accepted it.

If those I love don't listen, I am compelled to try again, even if they don't like hearing what I have to say. I don't think of this as hate. Do you? If your family member is dealing with addiction to alcohol or drugs, do you try once and give up on them? NO. Of course not. You keep trying, hoping they will listen to you someday. They need help, not condemnation. The accusations of hateful motivation come from people who have felt the condemnation, but not felt the help offered in love.

There is also reasoning to shut up. (I know that the "religious right" has a hard time with this) There is Biblical reasoning to take the message elsewhere. When people will not listen, will not repent, and will be hateful to the messengers, that is the time to move the message to another target audience. I cannot change the people who will not see that God's law is superior. I cannot change the fact that homosexuals are still human, and they desire like I do to have basic human respect. I cannot force my beliefs on anyone else. I can love others, and still disapprove of their actions. My goal is to show the love, without ignoring the sin.

So why am I being accused of hate? Satan has taken hold of the Politically Correct trends, and used them to beat up on Christ's followers. Twisted the truth to his own advantage. Made it bad to be good. Sneaky. He has also taken hold of people's fears, and made it offensive to be corrected. In America today, we can no longer discipline our children, arrest our criminals or state ancient rules. When I state God's disapproval of anything, I am hateful. When I show a better way that is contrary to another's pride, I am hateful.

I remember that Jesus said that I would be hated, because I took His Name, and the world hated Him first. The shouting matches will do nothing to calm the hate coming from the outside. I can deal with being hated. I can deal with being accused of hating, even though it is a lie.

Is it hateful to be firm in your beliefs? I don't think so.

Talk Of Weather And Family

2008-08-06T16:42:00.000-05:00

It has been over 100 degrees for so long, I am not sure that the air knows how to cool down. Our poor air conditioner is working all the time, and barely keeping the house at 80. I am wearing tank tops all the time, and still sweating into a puddle. The box fans and the oscillating stand fans we have are also working constantly. Moving the air makes it feel cooler, even if that is just an illusion to my skin.

I don't enjoy summer, it is tediously hot, and I prefer cooler temperatures. Monday, we broke a record from the early 1900's, by one degree. Oklahoma City hit 105.

I am sitting here, waiting for the laundry to finish rinsing, and all I can think of is.... "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!" Yes, I would love to see cooler temperatures and colder precipitation.

On a happier note, DH and I got to babysit the Candy Kids last night. SIL goes back to school (she is a counselor, and faculty have to go back before the kids do) today, and she and BIL spent yesterday as a final summer fling mini vacation. They took the Kids to a swim park, and spent time together as a family; as if the whole of Tuesday was actually a Saturday. After DH got off work, we went to play with the Kids while their parents had a Fancy Dinner Date.

What is it about little kids wanting to go to school? Don't they know how much work it will be? Do they not understand how much fun they will miss out on by being cooped up in a building like so many chickens? Jelly Bean is infatuated with "My School" right now. Her house is three or four blocks from their neighborhood Elementary School, and she HAD to walk there, to show me where it was, and to play at the "park" behind it. She won't even attend there for another whole year, but she is convinced that it is hers right now. They grow up so fast. She isn't even three yet. Next year, she can start Pre-K. She beat that deadline by two days, smart girl.

MIL said that DH and SIL used to get up when they were supposed to be in bed; like they were in a toaster. POP! I called Jelly Bean a Pop Tart last night. I think it is just as accurate, and sweeter than toast. Jelly Bean decided that she could (POP) bump against her door, cry, and slide down the door to sit on the floor. I went and knocked on her door, and told her to get back in bed. I heard a scared little scamper, and then crying. I figured she would cool off if she really laid down. I went to get a glass of water for me. She came out once (POP), and slammed her bedroom door behind her. Then she found me in the kitchen. I told her that door slamming was unacceptable, and that she needed to go back to bed. I had to take her there. She was OK for a few minutes. I took my water and my book, and settled down for some good reading. Jelly Bean screamed, and ran out (POP) and told me that she wanted Mommy. We cuddled for a while, and I told her how good she had been that day, and that Mommy and Daddy were still on their date, but they loved her. We sang a song, and we cuddled some more. I took her back to her room, and she whimpered a little, but she settled down pretty quickly, and was asleep when her parents got home about an hour later.

Gum Drop must be teething. He was a grouchy gus when he was not giggling at Uncle DH. DH is tall, taller than their Daddy, so when he tosses them in the air, they are seriously high up there. Gum Drop loves to be tossed and tumbled and have razzberries blown on his belly. I say "zerberts" like Bill Cosby used to call them. Mommy gave him some Tylenol before she left, and poor babe was out cold for an hour and a half. I hope that he still stayed asleep the whole night. He was fighting the sleep when it came time to go to bed.

Gum Drop is almost walking by himself. He has the balance and the footwork, but he lacks the confidence. He has to be holding on to something. I was trying to get him to try walking alone. When I let go of one of his hands, keeping the other, he would turn. He put his free hand side forward, and would crab-walk sideways ahead, and cling to the remaining support for dear life. I traded hands once, and he traded which side was forward. Silly boy. He has a toy that has a seat for a scooter, and the seat can open up to let him walk between the halves. He was walking back and forth through the living room, and whining when he hit obstacles that wouldn't let him pass.

I had my camera with me, and didn't take any pictures. Shame on Auntie Chelf. But, I do have pictures from our Girls Day last Thursday. While the dealership had my new Honda to put a cruise control on it, I got to hang out with SIL and the Candy Kids. While Gum Drop napped, we girls painted our toenails Purple, and put stickers on them. I have a picture of MY toes, but I think I shall spare you. Here are Jelly Bean's toes. She picked the initial for one toe and the heart for the other.

I hope your summer has been full of fun! Tell me what your summer adventures have been.

Eulogy Of The Car

2008-07-30T14:52:00.005-05:00

Wordless Wednesday

2002 Buick Century

Purchased January 9, 2003 ~ Traded July 26, 2008

R.I.P., old bucket.
(Rust In Pieces, that is.)

Can I Bore You Some More?

2008-07-29T09:24:00.005-05:00

Word of the Post
Today's word is: caliginous
/ca*lidge"i*nous/ adjective
Misty, dark, dim, obscure.
London is often portrayed as claiginous. The murky fog dims the lights, and gives the city at night an ominous glow.
I was under the impression that it meant "made of tin", because of the line in The Wizard of Oz. The Wizard calls the Tin Man a "clinking, clanking, clattering collection of caliginous junk". Made of tin would actually be "ferruginous", but that wouldn't alliterate with clinking and clattering, now, would it? The idea being communicated (supposedly above everyone's head) is that the Tin Man is rusted and heartless. I imagine a batch of tin cans tied to the back of a car at a wedding. Empty, noisy, old, rusted and utterly without beauty. The Wizard is attempting to insult the Tin Man, and show his great intelligence.
At this link I found an interesting discussion of this thought, spawned by his own ponderances of irony. Here I found another, more directly related to the script of the movie. This person delves into the plot twist that the "Oz is not that brilliant after all."
~~~~~~~~~~
I have a matter of very great concern. I don't want to give names, or too many details, for the sake of privacy. Please pray for my friend. She had a tubal pregnancy that was ended today. I am praying, and knowing that many of you will do the same for her. I praise God for His family of believers to help in this time of pain.

Ferret and Zipper are in town for Zipper's oral surgery on Wednesday. They are working in the back of her throat to close a little hole, so that she can keep air separated between her mouth and her nose. It will help her be able to make more consonant sounds when she speaks. This could be very interesting in the long run. Zipper-Speak is very vowel oriented, and very hard to understand, even sometimes for her mom. I have to be looking at her, to see what she is trying to do with her mouth to really get what she says. Today at lunch, she told us she needed a "map". She meant "nap". Close. Still, she hit that P with perfect clarity, and that is new in the past few months to me.

We took the Buick in to the Honda dealership last night, and got all our personal stuff out of it. It is a 2002 model, but it had a book for a 2003. Whatever. At least it had a book. I have never been so very happy to be rid of a car. The relief is so sweet. When we thought about buying a car before this, we were in the finance office of the Hyundai dealer before the dread nearly made me puke. This time, I never got the growling pit feeling in my tummy, I never got the "get me out of here, NOW" voice in my head. It was almost painless. I say almost, only because I now have to PAY the price we agreed upon. A little more friendly conversation got us a better interest rate, yet again. This is a total of 13 points better than the loan we got on the Buick in 2003. We have paid off two cars, early, since then, and have very little other debt. It is good to know that the hard work we have done was not useless.

Now, we have to figure out what sort of coverage we wish to carry on our cars, and get the insurance set up. If you live in Oklahoma, and have need of an insurance quote, I have the guy for you.

There is much to do this week, and not nearly enough time to get it all done. I hope I don't lose my mind!

Raise your glass to mindless existence! I shall enjoy mine filled with a little water, on the rocks.

...And We're Back. So, Chelf. Deal or No Deal?

2008-07-27T08:26:00.012-05:00

OK. I have sent a few of you into a tizzy trying to guess what the "news" could be.
Muh hu ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! I am such an evil blogger. Bad Chelf. Bad.

Sally is guessing that I am pregnant. (Nope. I do wish, though.)

Rachel caught me this morning at church. (I was hoping not to be seen just yet!)

Flea is every bit as impatient as I am, so... in light of the threat to my safety, here you go.

We bought a NEW car.

We couldn't find a Wii Fit, so we got a Honda Fit, instead. (DH just called it a Wee Fit. Isn't he funny?) Nearly as hard to find, and just as desirable. I have never in my life owned a brand new car. I love the smell of new car (plastic fumes) in the morning!

I am still running on the adrenaline from Saturday night. We were driving around, and decided to go look to see what the dealership had. There were three cars, all in my favorite color of BLUE... I even had two shades to pick from. Seriously, it came to a toss of a dime. (You think I am joking. How cute.) They were all 5-speed Manual, which gets better gas mileage, if you know how to drive one.

They were all sitting there... begging me to take them home.

And then I thought about the value of the Buick. That stupid, frustrating car that I have threatened to drive into the nearest lake. Maybe not the nearest lake, because Hefner is our area's water supply, and I like our water. But a lake, nevertheless. I added up in my head all the repairs that thing will need. I could repair our existing (and totally paid for!) car, at a cost of.... 6 months of payments toward this new one. And I still have no guarantee that it would be worry-free. It is so very out of warranty. Just the insurance and me against the probable loss of a stupid, worthless, scary, expensive piece of.... junk that we have owned for 5 1/2 years. (Notice please the restraint to keep the G-rating, and the anger out of that last sentence.) They gave us $3000, sight unseen, which I think is fair. I couldn't get $4000 by selling it on the street, because of the new issues it decided to give me. If they spend a little to fix it, they can make all their money back, or they can sell it at auction and let someone else worry about it.

If we decide that we can survive with only one car (as I don't work right now), we can always sell the Malibu to our friend, and use her payments to us as payments on the new one, too. I have a contingency plan for almost everything. I am tempted.

I can see the shaking heads, and hear the big sighs and screams of "NOOOOOO!!!!!" from those of you who know that I try to follow the plan of my rich friend Dave Ramsey. No, I really don't want a car payment. But... in all fairness, I don't want to finance the cost of repairs on a car that is bound to fail, either. And we would have to borrow to fix all the issues of the Buick. We got a much better rate (12 points better!) than we got when we financed the Buick. I got them to check another bank, and lower the interest again by 0.74%. See what a little pleasant conversation can do for you?

Would you like to see it?

The other blue was Vivid Blue Pearl, and was more a Royal Blue. This Baby Blue Silver shade is named Tidewater Blue Metallic. It sounds like a laundry detergent to me. I am going to apply for a special tag, MYCHELF. I have wanted that on a car ever since Amber called me that, 16 years ago. She was 2 at the time. She graduated High School this year. Now, like the car itself, I have the tough choice of what color to make the tag. If I go Baby Blue, I think it will clash, as will plain Silver. DH will have a hissy fit if I make it Pink. I was thinking if they have a White Pearl, that might look nice. If they have a "Choose Life" tag available still, and I can get my nickname on it, that may be the way to go.

Thanks to Dad, I learned on a Manual. However, it has been 13 or more years since I have driven one on a regular basis. You will have to ask DH if I did well driving today. I only killed it once. I think I did very well.

I am considering naming this car. The Bu (Malibu) and the Ick (Buick) have been just descriptive titles. I want some suggestions for Names for this Honda. Fenry is out, by the way. DH had a Honda Accord in High School that was Fenry Honda, so we don't want to taint that memory. But if you have any suggestions for this little beauty, I would love to hear them. I may even come up with a prize for a contest.

Hope I didn't disappoint too many of you. This car buying stuff is a real ADVENTURE. I am still high from the experience.

We Will Find Out........ Right After THIS!

2008-07-27T00:29:00.002-05:00

I know I have been absent for a couple of days... I haven't even read one single email until so late on this wonderful Saturday evening.

Bear with me. Please. I have some awesome news, and a few things to share.

For now, I will simply say... I have not forgotten any of you, and you will get to share in the fun in a day or two. I promise.

I hope everyone is having an adventurous weekend!

The Number Of Crock-Pots Shall Be Three! (Five, Sir.)

2008-07-23T09:15:00.006-05:00

For those who are wondering where I keep FOUR crock pots, I went and looked again. I actually have five, if you count the littlest one, that I can't cook in. To answer Flea's question, they are each in their own spot... scattered all over the 5 cabinets I have. Small ones up high, big ones down low. The 6 qt. pretty much lives on the cabinet, in the far left corner. All of them are Rival Crock-Pot brand. What have we here?

1. One 6 qt. oval removable crock. Temp adjustable with Hi, Lo and Warm. Deep green. The outside has herb leaves on it. I was hoping to win one of the new offerings from Stephanie's blog... those have a locking lid that would be helpful for travel. Oh, well. This is the one I use for the Pot Luck dinners. I couldn't find a red one, so I settled for green; but I love it.

2. One 4 qt. round removable crock. Temp adjustable with Hi and Lo. Maroon (got this as a wedding present). The outside has flowering pictures of herb plants on it. MIL wanted a removable crock, and couldn't kill her one piece. She jokingly threatened to steal mine. I offered to give it to her, but she refused. She didn't want to give up her working piece just for a flashier model. For a gift, I got her one. It was removable, an oval in blue, that matched her then new dishes. She donated her original wedding present to their church. It still works, and she had it since 1974.

3. One 2 qt. round, one piece. Knob with Off or On, but not really temp adjustable. Matches the chili pepper kitchen! I had to have this one. Don't argue with me. Seriously.

4. One 1 qt. Crock-ette, also called a Little Dipper, one piece. Plug in to turn on, no knobs at all. Deep green. Came with the 6 qt. and matches the herb pattern. This is the one I used for the Compote.

5. One Mini Potpourri Crock, one piece, plug in only. Deep green. This one could hold one cup of water, and is not designed for food. I think this one came with a set as well, but I don't really remember.

Now, I don't know exactly why I have the need to own FIVE crock pots. I have different uses for each one. There is the one that gets the cheese dip, the one that makes dinner for two, the one that makes leftovers for a week. I actually gave away a 2 qt. that matched the 4 qt. in exchange for getting to buy the one that had chili peppers on it. I have decided that I am totally wacko. I have so much kitchen stuff, and not nearly enough kitchen for half of it. Wishful thinking (there is another house in my future, I am sure) or just pack rat out of control? I can only say... "Whatever." I justified my pattern trade by letting one go out, to get one in. Seemed good to me at the time.

I love to cook, I love to make people happy with food. I have a need to have comfort food, and if I can make it fresh, it will certainly be better than the salt/fat/sugar laden canned stuff. I remember reading somewhere that there were studies done that said long, slow cooked food was better for you than seared and fast cooked food. (Don't tell Rachael Ray, her 30 minute meals are awesome, too.) I know that slow cooked meat is so much more tender than pan fried. I love a warmed and softened veggie, that still has some crunch to it. I LOVE that the term "stew" really does describe the mixing of the flavors; that the leftovers are just as good, if not better, on the next day.

I'm not so creative to make a New Year's Resolution to use the crock pot every day. (I really think Stephanie rocks!) I'm not so fanatical that I will tell you that you MUST be like me in my obsession. I like that the food can be slow cooked, and my house (and electric bill for counteracting the stove operating) doesn't have to get so hot. I adore baking, but it is a tedious and painful process in the summer. Oklahoma is not bakery friendly in the 100 degree, 80% humidity of July. I have been known to cook to keep the house warm in the winter, though.

I have learned a lot about Microwave cooking from my MIL. She is always happy to make things that don't take too long, and don't heat up the house. I had never thought of making casseroles in the microwave, and now I have a great time fixing DH's favorite. I have a few gadgets for that purpose, too. My kitchen has no shortage of interesting ways to cook dishes that I don't regularly make.

On to another subject. OH. MY. Goodness! How did it take me a whole month to read one little book? I will admit that I was reading only about one chapter a night, but... wow. I usually devour books. I don't know what is wrong with me. My friend David said that he has a sickness. We are in the same boat, seriously. See a book, buy the book. I have a whole shelf full to brimming, and that holds about 2/3 of the books I still own. I tried. I TRIED. I put enough books in the garage sale to fill a small shelf. I sold a few. But I brought back so many.

I don't know when/if I will try another garage sale. Roadrunner and I were going to do one together, but her plans have hit some unexpected bumps. I am seriously considering just dumping whole boxes of junk at Goodwill, and letting them deal with it. I figure the freedom of the clutter will help me declutter the rest of the house. I was hoping to make a little bit of money back on some of it, but that really has nothing to do with the decision. I can get a receipt for the donation of stuff. I don't really care. I just want it all out of my house.

I have always had piles of stuff, stacks of boxes in my way. I don't know why I keep some of it. There is a box of "hope chest" things, but I don't have a chest. I haven't even looked in that box in four years. I can't even tell you where it is right now. I have boxes of stuff my mom gave me from her house, that I haven't opened in almost 10 years. I haven't even been married that long! I think this year is the year to clean, DEEP CLEAN, my house. I complain that I don't know how to clean, which isn't technically true. I have never had a clean house to maintain, but that is no real excuse. "Mess equals Stress." Thank you, Mrs. Rice. Yes, I need to clean up, and maybe that will get rid of some of the depression, stress, and moodiness. I don't know. I should certainly try.

Time to jet. I have a women's class to attend, studying keeping cool and eating for less $$ and, most importantly, following God's plan for my household. Beginning, of course, with me. I need that lesson.

Have a happy day!

Inspired Cooking Experiments

2008-07-21T21:36:00.008-05:00

Today, I got busy and cooked. I used two crock pots I have. OK, I have at least four, but that is totally beside the point. Today, I wanted to cook, but I didn't want my whole house to be heating up because of an oven, or me to be heating up because of the stove.

I got some pot roast meat the other day... a huge package for a discount. I cut the roast into six pieces, to make six meals for the two of us. I have a habit of cooking (particularly in a crock pot) for more than just the two of us. We eat leftovers for a week on the stews I usually come up with. Today, I used the 2 quart pot instead of the 6 quart oval one. {Edit: Oops! I actually used the 4 qt. crock. I didn't think about it, I just dumped stuff in it.}

Pot Roast Stew

About 1 pound of pot roast. I used thawed this time, but you can start with frozen, if you like.
3-4 medium red potatoes
2 stalks celery
1/2 medium yellow onion
2 carrots (fat ones. I LOVE carrots in stew!)
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes (no salt added)
Frozen corn (about 1 1/2 cups)
Frozen green beans (about 1 cup)
1 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup (in the last 1/2 hour, to thicken the broth slightly)
1 bay leaf
Spices that sound good
Water (or beef stock) to cover at least 2/3 of the veggies (the veggies will give off some liquid, so make sure to leave at least 1 inch of space at the top)
Cook for 6 to 8 hours on Low, 4 to 6 hours on High.

I just put the meat in the bottom, and layered each thing on top of the pile in the crock pot as I cut them into small, bite-sized chunks. I have a mortar and pestle, and I put in all the spices that sounded good, and ground them up together before putting them on top of the veggies. Then I poured the water over it all. This was great at 4 1/2 hours on High.

This one wasn't as good as others have been. The meat turned out tender, but not the fall-apart tender I love. I took it out, and cut it in small bite chunks to match the potatoes. But, it was good for as little work as I put into it. I thought of a nice little add-in today; I used Baby Goldfish Crackers to add a little crunch and cheese flavor. DH tried that, but also liked Club Crackers with the stew.

I had to clean to start the stew, and had to clean after, to have clean bowls to eat out of. I have been very tired since this weekend, when I helped with a Yard Sale. I don't do so well in the sunshine. The sun is my enemy. It saps the energy right out of me. Mom used to get cold sores if she was in the sun too long. I just get dehydrated, burned to a lobster redness, and too tired to move for a long while. It took me all day Sunday and most of today to recover. I wasn't burned this time. We were in the shade the whole day. I was rosy for several hours, but no burns. Hooray for sunscreen!

I decided that I had several kinds of fruit in the house, and I wanted something special for dessert. I found a recipe for a Peach Compote on Stephanie's site, and decided to try my own with the fruits available.

Fruit Basket Compote

1 Nectarine, cut into small pieces
1 Apple, cut into small pieces (I used a Gala)
Blueberries, about 1/3 cup
Black Cherries, pitted, about 1/3 cup
1 Tbsp. Apple Cider Vinegar {Edit: Don't use this. Seriously. The next day, you taste it more.}
1/8 cup Dark Rum
1 tsp. Vanilla
Brown Sugar to taste (start small, and taste after an hour or so...), optional
Cinnamon, Nutmeg (could use pumpkin pie spices)
{Edit: Also add 1 to 2 Tbsp. Butter.}

I put all of this in a Little Dipper 1 quart crock pot, and let it steep for about 2 hours. There are no temperature options on that crock, it is either On or Off. I got DH to go to the local Freddy's and get some vanilla custard, to serve under the fruit. I missed the butter that apparently goes in a true compote recipe. I may add it later when I reheat the rest of it, for breakfast tomorrow.

I have to go now and put the leftovers in the fridge. I have been letting them cool on the counter since 9 pm (two hours). Don't want to break a crock by putting it in the fridge after being so hot... a full and then cracked crock in the fridge would cause a huge mess, and then I would have to buy a new crock pot. Since I didn't win one of the 10 at Stephanie's contest, I can't afford to lose one now.

Happy Dinners!

Because Falling Is Funny

2008-07-16T23:47:00.006-05:00

I have felt today the true meaning of schadenfreude.

I was minding my own business, driving from a class at my church building (I was the class this week) to the grocery store in Edmond where I wished to buy fresh veggies and fruits. After entering the highway, I set my cruise to the limit of 60, and stayed in the right lane. I know that going ONLY the speed limit is irritating to some, so I follow the rules of the road; "Slow Traffic Keep Right".

Out of nowhere, there comes a little black car. He (She? I wasn't looking, really) passed me on the right, and in doing so cut back in front of me across the warning hash marks of the exit lane he was in. So, let's review. 1. Speeding (Remember that I am locked on the speed limit? I thought you were paying attention.) 2. Passing on the right. 3. Reckless driving. 4. Changing lanes without using a signal. 5. Crossing warning lines. (Should have exited at Hefner, dude.)

Now, I was having an OK sort of day, but there had been a few little things on my mind that were bothering me. This person cutting me off just made me shake my head and sigh. My first thought was my usual one when someone does something stupid in front of me in traffic: "Happy ticketing, jerk!" Yeah, I was good today, I didn't really say what I was thinking, even though I was in the car by myself. Usually, I tend to be more... inappropriate when I have nobody to hear me. Never a cop around when you need one. That dude needs a ticket, maybe he would slow down and not be a danger to others anymore. Somebody should have seen that!

And then the happiness burst forth. From traffic behind me, I saw a motorcycle cop maneuver through traffic, pass me, and get behind the little black car. Then the pretty Christmas lights (That is from the undercover cars, that look all normal, until they light up like a Christmas tree. No green; just red, white and blue.) came on, and the little siren that is impossible to hear over your stereo while on the highway. He actually pulled the little car over, and I was suddenly very happy.

Not only was the driver doing all those things I listed above, I think I saw a phone on the ear. I can't be certain. Maybe he wasn't wearing his seat belt. A part of me hopes that he got a hefty fine for all the rudeness. It was about 12:15 in the afternoon, so the dude (dudette, if that applies) was probably rushing around to get lunch and go back to an office job he hates. Life can be pretty easy, until you make it hard on yourself, you know? I just think it was funny.

The rest of the traffic around me slowed down when they saw the cop going for the reckless speeder. They had all been pretty far behind me, but suddenly were next to me, but pretending to obey the law they should have been following all along. It feels good to know that I was obeying the traffic laws, and that by breaking them around me, someone got caught. That has happened more in the past couple of years... I wonder if there are more cops, or if it is just that I happen to be at the right place at the right time? Truly, I believe that the world is out to get me.

I think I have a sign that shows up when I drive: It is Neon Green, and flashes the words, "Woman Driver, Please Cut Me Off". It changes color and adds words when I am with Roadrunner. Then it looks like a flashing traffic signal: Green, Yellow, Red... "Two women on board. You are required to do something stupid in front of this car". When we add Roadrunner's "I LOVE my children!", the sign goes even further: Blinking in the colors of the rainbow, the words, "We have children, we are women, hear us scream when you perform illegal and stupid acts near this car!"

I have my Dad's uncanny ability to kill streetlamps by merely driving past. I have my Mom's sense to tell people to stop, but usually the people in the other car can't hear me. I talk to the traffic, like Rachael Ray talks to her food. It is habit, and a nasty one, at that. I also get from Dad the knack for hitting every light red, especially when running late. DH has this too, but I don't know from whence he inherited. Unless my marriage to him made some of my dumb luck rub off on him?

For all of you who have ever sat out there in the traffic jam caused by the longest train known to exist in captivity, take heart. It really will be moved sometime this century. I promise. Even if by only microns per year. When it is blocking the one thing you want to do.... (just across the tracks in front of you!) say a prayer, and remember that you can't get a ticket for waiting on a train.

Or obeying the law.

I am truly giddy over this, and I should not be. This is bad.

A Tisket, A Tasket, A Crock-Pot That's A Basket

2008-07-14T18:36:00.008-05:00

I have just added a link to the coolest recipe site I have found yet.

I would love to introduce you to Stephanie. She is the self-proclaimed Crock-Pot Lady. She made a New Year's Resolution to cook something every day for her family in a Crock-Pot. She was featured on July 9th on the Rachael Ray show, and has given the world her blog, to follow her progress.

Most of her recipes are gluten free, because of her family's diet restrictions. She will tell you if the recipe is NOT gluten free. (She is nice that way.) For those of you who think you have no time to cook, you really do have time to cook. Healthy, warm, and without the hot house and overworked air conditioner.

Go check her site out! She is having a contest right now to give away 10 fancy new Crock-Pot brand crocks. If you don't want one, enter anyway, and you can send it to me!

So, I know that several of my readers are frugal homemakers who have limitless resources to eat healthy and homemade. What are your favorite recipe sites out there? Do you have a favorite Crock-Pot recipe? Do you have something that you do that you have not seen in a book? I am looking for ideas. I need help to make the same-old same-old food with a new twist, so that it is interesting for me, and not too daringly different for DH.

Hope your summer is going swimmingly!

Old And Young - I Must Be Middle-Aged

2008-07-11T16:00:00.000-05:00

Word of the Post
Today's word is: antimacassar
/an*ti*muh*kas"er/ noun
Coined in 1852 from anti (as if you didn't know this means against) and macassar oil which is imported hair tonic from Sulawesi. I don't know where that is, but OK. These were cloth (often a lace doily) used to protect chairs and sofa fabrics from people leaning their oily heads against them.
I found this definition at the Online Etymology Dictionary, and confirmed it on Dictionary.com.

I heard this word used on a Password Plus rerun while watching the Game Show Network. Oh, my days are exciting! The guy who used it as a clue (he was hoping his partner would answer "doily") was the host of Match Game, Gene Rayburn. The host of this episode, Tom Kennedy, knew what he was talking about, but the word judges did not. They were trying to check that he hadn't said two words. I had to check three different sites, looking through the Thesaurus links, to find this.

So, the annoying little pieces of material that fall off the arms and in between the cushions on your Lay Z Boy have an actual name. I suppose I am too young to know these things. Grams crochets beautiful blankets, and I think she could easily do antimacassars too.
~~~~~~~~~~
Fantastical memories and ethereal mush cloud my dreams lately. I have people who have never met, in places that are unlikely, colliding in situations that should never happen, all happily playing havoc on my tired mind at night. Unfortunately, this means that I do not sleep well. After the long weekend, I needed the sleep that has been missing.

This morning, however, I was sleeping so well, I had a wonderful dream. It hurt to wake up, I was enjoying myself so. I tried to go back to sleep to recapture parts of it. No success. I woke again feeling a sense of loss, an incompleteness of the thought. It took almost an hour to get back to what day and time it was. I give you, a day late and a brain short, this list I started on Thursday, but I didn't finish it until today.

Tardy Thursday Thirteen

Reasons To Feel Young

1. Watching the babies learn new things.
2. Listening to the Aunts talk.
3. Contemplating how old I am not.
4. Being asked for marital advice.
5. Realizing that I have very little advice to offer.
6. Realizing how much time I have yet to go.
(Isn't old always at least 10 years older than you currently are?)
7. Being called a baby by my OLD friends.
(I am not naming names here, Jan.)
8. Watching Grams walk with a walker.
9. Seeing the houses that my family have built.
(actual houses, not the homes.)
10. Finding archaic words or songs that I didn't know before.
11. Remembering that I could not have invented telephones, computers or space travel.
(I do believe I could have invented the toilet, though.)
12. Seeing how busy my schedule is.
13. Getting to travel without kids.

I hope you are feeling young today!

Freedom Day Celebrations

2008-07-09T20:30:00.000-05:00

Friday morning, we packed all the necessities and a few "just in case" items into the car, and set off for our short trip to Aunt Sharon's house, near Parsons, KS. I am used to the drive taking more time. Did I drive slower when I was single? I must have stopped more often, or there was construction that I have forgotten. Whatever the reason, it took almost an hour less than I thought to get there, and that was including the 1/2 hour or so we spent in a restaurant in Tulsa on the way through. Aunt's house has been Grand Central Station at Fourth of July for as long as I can remember. This year was no different. Actually, this year was a little different. Aunt Marilyn usually stays at a hotel, but her kids stay at the house. This year, DH and I stayed at the same hotel as Aunt Marilyn and Uncle John for the first night. Since some of the cousins left on Saturday, we all stayed at the house on Saturday night, as there were more rooms free. This is Aunt Sharon and Uncle Roy, sorting change for Hope Harbor Children's Home. We joked that they were so poor after the 4th, that they were scrounging for pennies to fill the Food Fund.

Usually, if everyone were to show up, there would be no less than 29 people. We also have close family friends who might as well be related, as many as 12 more from their family, who will come to our party to watch the fireworks. This year, we had 22 all together. My parents couldn't come from so far away, a few cousins couldn't come because of work or distance; they were greatly missed. This is Beka, her hubby Kyle, and the newest cousin, Kaylynn.

"The Girls" are all about 16 to 23, and there are 7 of them. These girls are mostly my 2nd cousins, but there are two 1st cousins. (Kaylynn is the only 3rd cousin, so far.) They all pile in and do fun things. Friday afternoon, there were two different games of Taboo; Saturday, the game of the hours was Rummicube; I tried to teach Andrea to play Cribbage, but we never got to finish the game. Now that several are old enough to drive, and have cars, they go to the swimming pool in Oswego, KS by themselves. That is the pool where I learned to swim at age 14. It is so neat to know that The Girls have turned out so well. Good kids, all. I remember when Jess was barely old enough to try walking, and now she is a college graduate, with a good job, and a bright future. Yep, part of that feeling old coming back up. This is the whole batch, watching the fireworks.

I have always been in the middle. Stuck at the kiddie table, and desperate to be at the adult table. The older than me cousins are around 10 years older. The younger group is at least 10 years younger than me. The younger cousins and the second cousins are not so far apart in age. I used to get shuffled with the younger kids, I suppose because there just wasn't room where I wanted to be. Honestly, if there is a disconnect in our family, it is your own fault. There are plenty of things to do, people to hang out with, and everyone is friendly. But... there are times when The Girls make me crazy. They are all so pretty, thin, tanned and tall. I only got one of those traits (pretty is the one I am selfishly and vainly claiming). This is Grams, with DH and Me. See where I got all that beauty? I only hope that I have that much hair when I am 88. Kinda tough, since I don't think I have that much hair now.

With Kaylynn, we now have five living generations. Somewhere, there are generational pictures. I don't have any of them, and I didn't get one of my own, but I did get this picture of the top and bottom of the list. This is Grams, holding Kaylynn... her only (there will be others, so first!) Great Great Grandchild.

I wish that we could get together more than once a year, but we are all so spread out, and getting more so with every cousin that marries and moves great distances due to jobs. When I moved to Oklahoma, I was moving closer. Top to bottom and left to right: DH, Me, Kyle holding Kaylynn, Alysia, Rebekah, Morgan, Laura, Andrea, Colby, Jessica and Chelsea. Photo on my camera, courtesy of cousin Kelley.

I have seriously considered starting a Facebook page. Not because I just want another blog to bore you with, but because I have friends who have invited me to join. Now, I find that several of the cousins have a Facebook. Much like the blogs, I want to do it to keep in touch, since none of us seem to use a telephone anymore. A letter? What is that? This is Crazy Faces.

We found we have talents as pyrotechnical engineers. Did you know that a Black Cat will still blow up if you drop it in a bucket of water? It does, and it does not destroy the bucket. There was the game of Fireworks Ball. A lit Black Cat pitched from the deck to the batter on the ground who is holding a splintered 2 x 4 or a fireplace shovel. Then, there were the rogue fireworks that tried to chase Jayson. Seriously, it was kinda scary. One of the roman candles fell over and off the table after the first shot. It got turned a little more clockwise with each shot, and that was the direction that Jayson ran. We were laughing so hard, once we knew that he was not burned, and the trees had not caught fire. He didn't know why it was following him, and I reminded him that "smoke follows beauty". This is the dusk view of the firestarters. How many cousins can one deck hold? (I have the tune of Ariel's song in the cavern from Disney's "The Little Mermaid" playing in my head now. Don't you?)

We went to church with Grams on Sunday, and we are happy to stand while singing. The little building has the hardest, oddest angled, close-set wooden benches with no padding at all. Back in 2003 (the last time DH and I went to the 4th), cousin Kevin was leading the singing, and asked, "Would you please stand?" and DH said (not realizing how out loud...), "GLADLY!" Oddly, they sang two songs that I didn't know. That is rare. I love it! We had lunch on Sunday at a Chinese buffet, which was pretty good. We drove home Sunday afternoon, in the same easy, lazy way we came back from NM. We took our time, enjoyed the view. OK, I slept while DH drove. Don't laugh. It is our way. We came home sunburned, and tired, but it was a wonderfully fun holiday. The Fourth has been the big annual holiday since I was a little kid. I hope to share that with my family for many years to come.

Happy...

2008-07-04T23:05:00.000-05:00

Graphic from free website: http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/

I hope that everyone has a happy, loud and full day!

1 Lit Black Cat Explosive+ 1 Empty Tuna Can = Fun With Fireworks!

2008-07-03T14:51:00.009-05:00

Thursday Thirteen

I don't usually get into these weekly features, but today I thought I might. Guess it is my newly found tolerance for memes. I am not certain. Then I had to find something to make a 13 list about.

Thirteen things that make me feel old.

1. Kids I saw born are now adults.
2. Kids I babysat getting married.
3. Kids I babysat having kids.
4. Second Cousins having kids. Yes, I have one little Third Cousin.
5. Chasing the Candy Kids.
6. Lifting a baby in a car carrier.
7. Finding that first gray (white!) hair.
8. Getting out of my bed while making those grunting sounds.
9. Cars made the year I graduated High School would be driving teens by now.
10. Kids know how to be careful with CDs. I had 8 track tapes, cassette tapes, and LPs.
11. A car built the year I was born would easily be "antique" by now. (They hit that at 25 yrs, right? 30? I still have it beat.)
12. The cost of postage stamps has gone up an average of one penny every year I have been alive.
13. I remember when Maria on Sesame Street was YOUNG.

I also have many reasons to feel young. That may be next week's list. No promises, though.

I am making Bread Pizza tonight for dinner, to use up the spaghetti sauce that is patiently waiting in the fridge. I didn't use the whole jar the other day on another modification of Sloppy Joe. We have pepperoni, onions, bell pepper, cheese, and Texas Toast to build it all upon.

Then we are going to our favorite coffee shop for their Movie Night. We get free Popcorn, and a Corny Movie. The movie is different every week. Tonight, they are showing the original Mystery Science Theater 3000. Bad movies with funny comments. {Edit: The movie was not played, but there were two other customers there, which is good.} If we don't want to pay attention to the movie, we can play card games or Scrabble. We are also taking the laptop, so I can blog or email or surf the web. DH designed a new flavor mix of Smooffee. It is a smoothie-coffee. They also make drinks without the espresso. We refer to those as a Smoo. He wants to make one that is chocolate and marshmallow flavored, with graham cracker bits mixed in. He called it a S'moreffee. The owner thought it sounded good, and the idea got at least one other person interested in coming to the shop. Not only are we faithful customers, we bring in more people. Can't pay for loyalty like that! I like what the owner once said. He doesn't have to boycott Starbucks. He owns his shop, and it helps that he thinks his coffee is better than Starbucks. I just like supporting my friend in his business. DH doesn't even like coffee, but he can find drinks that he likes. It is so neat to have our own version of Central Perk (Friends) or Cafe Nervosa (Frasier). "It's my Chez away from Chez." ~ Frasier

I hope to have pictures and stories after this weekend's festivities. I hope everyone has a wonderful 4th of July!

(Photos of fireworks from a free site online: http://www.cepolina.com/freephoto/)

Mug Meme

2008-07-02T22:41:00.021-05:00

I used to be crabby about memes. I don't really like them. They seemed a waste of time. Like blogging isn't, right? So, I have decided to stop being so crabby. I can choose which memes I participate in, and which ones I don't. I just need to lighten up. Which is why I am hoping to unload so much stuff when I finally get to do the garage sale.

I am supposed to show you pictures of my Mugs. Jan told me to just dust them off, not clean them all. Well, as you can see, there are a lot of them, and they are all pretty dusty. These hang on a hat rack, on the right side of my dining room window to the back yard. The top three are Garfield collectibles from McDonalds many decades ago. The middle four and the middle of the bottom three are what Jack and Ron called Butt Mugs. They are pictures of the KYIS 98 Morning DJs' butts, and many of them have autographs. They sell for a lot of money in this area, if you have one that someone missed. I know, silly. Don't ask. They are nice guys. Bottom row left is Celestial Seasonings in the pattern of the Mandarin Orange Spice. I got this years ago, not at their factory this year. Bottom row right is Rt.66.

This next picture is the left side of the dining room, where I hang more mugs on a larger hat rack. This batch have been dusted in the past two months, so there is not nearly so much dust. Top to bottom, and left to righ; Row 1t: DH's Big Blue Band from High School; Mary Englebreight "Life is a chair of bowlies"; handmade colorful mug with little imprints of cat sillouettes; Sleeping Beauty. Row 2: Niagara Falls; Maxine "Just because you're in love, don't go getting disgusting in public."; Maxine "Don't worry if I bite your head off. I'll spit it out."; Hallmark comic "Please, please, PLEASE let my car start this morning!"; DH's fave college team, OU. Row 3: My High School, Farmington NM Scorpions, the front is our school logo, the back is a list of the 300+ graduates names. VERY TINY print; Oklahoma Christian University logo; Precious Moments mug that has my name across a heart; handmade mug that my Aunt S bought for me for Christmas about 10 years ago, it has buttons designed on it, and a scripture printed out, Psalm 33:3.

The next two pictures are three mugs I got on my trip to Colorado in April. The first is the best chocolate in my little world. Not a bad mug either. The handle is really chunky, and has a little imprint for your thumb. Nifty!

The next two are mugs we bought at the Celestial Seasonings store. We were planning to come home and join a Scrabble Tournament at our favorite coffee shop. I brought the mugs, and let everyone use them. We didn't drink out of them, and we all cheated with them, so at least it was equal cheating. They have many words all around the sides (some repeated, but hey, it's a start) that start with the letter on the tile picture.

This next one, I tried to get a picture of the tiny print on the bottom, but the picture just came out white. It says the cup was made in Occupied Japan. This is big, because there are not a lot of pieces that were left intact. Occupied Japan had a problem with being Occupied, so when they kicked out the invaders, they destroyed a lot of beautiful pieces. I have a larger dish also made in Occupied Japan, but not in this pattern.

There you have it. Muggy Chelf's Collection of Collections.

I won a contest over at Flea's blog. I named a Chicken. I got the chicken in the mail today, and opened it. But I was running late, and I left the tan puffy envelope, with the chicken inside, on our couch. When we came back from our mid-week Bible classes (and the dinner the church serves on Wednesday nights) we found this: An empty envelope.

Then DH hollers to me from our Bedroom. "Did you have the chicken back here?" I said no, I left it in the living room. Marvel, I am pretty sure, stole my chicken, and took it back to the bedroom, and left it like he leaves his Gift of Mouse toys. This is at the foot of the bed, on my side, near a pile of throw blankets I keep meaning to wash.

Poor "Fowler" (I won by Flea's helper-son picking my name suggestion for the chicken) was put in Kitty Toy P.O.W. Camp. He was chewed before he even got to fly. So sad. I still haven't removed the tag, and I can see that the cat chewed the tag a bit. I am surprised, really, that the head isn't gone, and the thick rubber isn't chewed to tiny bits. I have put Fowler in a safer place for the night. I think he needs to come to the family reunion in Kansas this weekend. I just need to make sure that the mean boy cousins don't attach him to a rocket.

For Jan And Her Dare

2008-06-29T16:18:00.011-05:00

Jan, I take that Dare, and I will go farther than just one more of the quizzes! I picked a few that made sense to me, and didn't give me unfavorable results.

You Are Clogs

You are a solid and down to earth person.

You seek, and almost always achieve, a really sound balance in your life.

You are stylish yet comfortable. Mellow but driven. Excited yet calm.

You are the perfect mesh of contradictions.

No matter what happens, you have the ability to stay well grounded in your life.

People know that they can truly depend on you.

You should live: In Europe

You should work: At a company dedicated to helping the world

What Kind of Shoe Are You?

I wear shoes that are like Crocs, but a different brand, with flowers cut in the pattern of holes. Navy, with little ladybug buttons added. Comfortable, stylish, and easy. Light, and perfect for traveling. Airports love me.

Your Nail Polish Color is Purple

How you're unique: You are artistic and expressive

Why your style rocks: You pay special attention to color and fabrics

What this color says about you: "I'm creative and know how to take care of myself"

What Color Nail Polish Best Fits You?

I only have one shade of purple in the basket of nail colors. Light and iridescent. But I also have a pair of clogs that are purple, and I do love wearing lavender. I don't like the smell of the plant, but the color is soothing.

Your Element Is Earth

You excel at planning and strategizing.

You could be a champ at chess or Survivor.

Well grounded, you are able to be realistic and rationalize.

On the inside, you have a hard core. It's tough to phase you.

You are super productive, and you are able to think anything through.

Focused and super charged, your instincts are a good guide for your next step.

What's Your Element?

I had to see what my Element was. Unfortunately, it wasn't a Honda. But, the Earth stuff aligns well with my Taurean sign. I am not surprised. I have been called Grounded a lot, and I don't mean as punishment from my parents. Steady, loyal and stubborn. I would guess that about sums me up.

OK, I have taken a few more of the quick quizzes. Now, to waste more time, and this time money, on entertainment today. We are going to the new Warren Theatre in Moore, to see Kung Fu Panda. I have been in one of the Warren Theatres in Wichita, and they are nice. This one has dinner in the balcony, and a bar! I have to laugh, though. If popcorn and water costs so much, what will the alcohol cost? I am scared to even ask. I won't be able to take pictures to show you, but I will make some mental notes and bring back some thoughts later.

I have to go find something comfortable to wear to the theatre.

I Let The Peer Pressure Get To Me

2008-06-29T00:04:00.002-05:00

Alright. I had to. I took the "What Cake are YOU?" quiz. And I got a disappointing answer.

I can't have ice cream often, no matter how much I love it. This thing calls me High Maintenance, and Easy to overdose on. How... odd.

Here you go, Jan. I may try again, just to see what other cakes are available. I prefer Cheesecake, in a variety box from a Factory.

You Are an Ice Cream Cake

Surprising, unique, and high maintenance.

You're one of a kind, and you don't want anyone to forget it.

You're fun in small doses, but it's easy for people to overdose on you!

What Kind of Cake Are You?

A-Musing Potpourri

2008-06-28T18:25:00.010-05:00

Word of the Post
Today's word is: brouhaha
/brew"ha*ha/ noun
The confused noise of many voices, cacophony. A noise much louder than its reason deserves.
I heard a clatter, and the sound of the resulting brouhaha carried all the way outside.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ever wondered why you bother? I have had a few days of that. I try and try, only to be disappointed again.

Roadrunner and I were supposed to do our multi-family garage sale on Friday and Saturday this week. And it rained. A lot. Getting up early, I took a shower and got dressed. I pondered the irony of putting on sunscreen as I heard the thunder for the first time. My paleness is legen- (wait for it...) dary. I can get a burn by starlight, I think. And I never even get a tan to show for it. So sad.

On Friday, we had both been awake from before 6, and had done all that weight lifting getting the stuff outside and onto the tables, only to take it back inside. We decided on Friday that we would try again some other weekend. We only had one lady actually look at our stuff, and we weren't even done displaying it that early. We were ready by 8, we were packed and back in the house by 11. Depressing. As if the rain weren't enough.

Today, DH and three other people went to work at the Luther Christian Service Center. It is a store of sorts, run by a lady in the church, who serves a very poor area not far from the city. She has a wall of shoes, piles of clothing, donated bulk food, furniture, and even toys. The guys are part of our clandestine group of charitable givers. We have had several workdays out there. When I went once, I helped one of the guys replace about 40 of their 6 foot flourescent light bulbs. DH helped replace the ballasts for some of their non-working lights today. He came home exhausted. Good work wears one out.

When he came home, DH brought with him a desktop computer tower. He said it was in the dumpster. The processor is the same brand as ours. The tower has a 160 gig hard drive, 1/2 gig of RAM, a DVD writer drive, a CD reader drive, built-in card readers (like the little external attachment I have for the laptop to read my camera card), and a black faced floppy drive, instead of the cream one (from DH's first computer, Maleficent). Most of that information is mumbo-jumbo to me, but I get some of it. I am wondering why it was thrown away. If the hard drive is bad, but the rest is useable, we still can upgrade our own tower for nothing. Yay! If the hard drive works, we just added quadruple the storage to our system. I hope it works. Even if just one part is salvageable, we are better off. Normally, I would have issues with him bringing leftovers from a dumpster, but this is different. Whatever we can't use, we can throw away, give away or sell in the next garage sale attempt. We couldn't buy these components right now, so I choose to think of it as reward for DH helping the Service Center. We don't do this for reward or profit. We do this to help Miss Ruby help the less fortunate.

Today has been a lazy day for me. I have done a lot of reading, some dishes, and I spent a lot of my TV time on the Hallmark Channel, or the Contemporary Christian Music Channel. I am reading The Shack by William P. Young, on the advice of Niki. She wants to have discussions about it. I am thinking these discussions will be good. I have about 50 pages to go, out of 248. It is a short book, as my reading list goes, but it is a lot to digest. Each chapter is full of deep thoughts to ponder, absorb and reflect upon before moving on. I want to rush through and finish, but I find I can't.

I made a Citrusade. Two lemons, two limes, one orange, some orange juice I had in a jug in the fridge, a little Marischino cherry juice, some Grenadine, a bit of vanilla and LOTS of sugar. I think it still has less sugar than the juices I could get at the store. I wasn't too terribly impressed, but DH is now on his second glass, so it can't be bad. I should have done some more housework. Laundry, dishes... something. But I just couldn't. The work yesterday wore me out. Today has been a rest. Tomorrow will be God's day, and then I can do work on Monday.

I made a mini crock pot of potpourri from the peels of the orange, lemon and lime. I added cinnamon stick, bay leaf, drops of mint extract, drops of vanilla, a dash of ground corriander, a teabag of Honey Peach Ginger tea from Cellestial Seasonings, and some whole cloves. My house smells yummy, and I can smell it best when the air conditioner kicks on. I need to take the teabag out, before the paper totally falls apart. I am thinking about just opening it up, and dumping the tea leaves in to keep the peachy scent alive. Or I can peel and core an apple, and add those bits while I have a tasty snack. Oooh. Idea.

The noisy bunny-painted ice cream van just drove by for the fifth time today (at 8 pm), and that is just the times I have seen it. I should call the city about the noise violation that thing is. Nuisance. It has a flashy yellow light on the top, and that is a danger to those prone to seizures and migraines. Health danger to the public, oh yes, I do need to call the city. I wonder what that guy's Carbon Footprint is? (Joking, but it can't be good.) He certainly can't be turning a profit, going through the same neighborhood six times a day, and using all that fuel.

Have a cold drink and a little dessert. You deserve it!

Where Did You Find That?

2008-06-24T13:40:00.003-05:00

This week I have been cleaning out boxes full of stuff I haven't looked at for years. I am cleaning, and pricing to get ready for the garage sale this coming weekend. Roadrunner and I are doing a sale at her house, with three families worth of junk.... er, treasures. This has cleaned up space for me to actually organize the junk... er, stuff I still have. In all of my sorting, I have found a few special things that were lost.

The one thing that I am sharing with you here, is the recipe that I have been tearing the house apart to find. A note: I make this in my 6 quart oval crock pot, and I only make half, so I don't have to worry about the lid not fitting. And it makes the whole house smell so wonderful!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~
Crock Pot Apple Butter

24 cups (approx. 30 medium) apples, peeled, cored, and sliced. (Cameo variety works great!)
4 cups granulated sugar (or less to taste, depending on the sweetness of the apples)
4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar

Place 1/2 the prepared apples in a 6 quart crock pot. In a mixing bowl, combine sugar, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and salt. Add half of the sugar mixture and half of the vinegar to the apples. Add remaining apples, top with remaining sugar mixture, and remaining vinegar. Cover with a lid. Lid may not fit at first, but apple will shrink down as they cook. Cook on high for 1 hour. Reduce heat to low, and simmer for 8 to 10 hours, until thick and dark in color. Stir occasionally and mash apples with a potato masher to get a smooth consistency. Makes approximately 4 1/2 quarts of apple butter.
~~~~~~~~~~
You can substitute 4 or 5 teaspoons of pumpkin spice mix INSTEAD of the cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg. (But I prefer the strength of flavor of each spice separately.) Half recipe measurement of note: I also add a 1/4 cup of dark rum; it adds color and flavor, and the alcohol cooks out. I put the apples in late one night, and do the canning the next day. I can the apple butter in 1 cup glass jars. I also take out some of the juiciest juice, to make the butter thicker. It makes a tasty snack or an interesting addition to sweet desserts, or an awesome ice cream topping.

Reserve the apple peels and cores to make a potpourri in a mini crock pot. Mix with orange peels, lemon juice or peels, cinnamon stick, whole cloves, tea bags, peppermint oil (only a drop or two, or your eyes will burn!) and whatever spices you love, and cover with water. Simmer all day long for an irresistible aroma in your home. Make sure to keep the water level up, as it evaporates in the heat.

I hope you enjoy this recipe. Please tell me if you try it, I want to know what everybody thinks of it. Have an enjoyable Tuesday!

Weeds In My Heart

2008-06-23T15:44:00.003-05:00

Beep. Beep. This is a test. This is a test of the Emergency Christian Network. Were this an actual emergency, you would have jumped to action instead of sitting like a lump and questioning "How high?" It seems you have passed this time, but the next time you might not be so gracious. We now conclude this test. Beep.

Do you ever think of minor questions as major tests? Today, a teen neighbor came over and asked if he could borrow our lawnmower. Technically, since I don't use it much, it is DH's lawnmower. I called him to ask if it was OK. I hesitated. He said yes, without much thought. I was the doubting one. My DH is so good!

Now, if it had been for his own yard, I would have been skeptical. But this was for my next door neighbor's yard. Across the street from the teen's house. I have to say that I am... ashamed. And I am still skeptical. I took a bit to go out and clean sticks from our yard, and the teen was mowing across the fence. I was watching him, hoping that he would not break our mower. Begging God that the mower come back full of gas, as it left. I still do not know what will happen. The lawn was tall, and the mower strong, but the teen inexperienced. I do not know if the boy has been raised with the courtesy I hope to see.

This seems to be a small thing, and the part of me that is embarrassed that I hesitated is hoping that his home circumstances allow him to be more than what I expect. It is no small cost if the mower gets broken. His single mom can't afford a new mower for me if he damages ours. After all the car repairs we have had lately, more household expense looks scary.

This seems to be a large thing, and the part of me that gave in is reading the Bible, and remembering that giving to the "least of these" is giving to God. I could be entertaining angels by this kind action. The lawn in question gets mowed nicely, and they only have to pay the teen. The teen learns responsibility, learns to return borrowed items in good condition.

This was a test. I feel as if I passed (I did loan the mower), and failed (I was too wary) at the same time. Does this make sense to anyone but me?

While I was typing this, the lawnmower was left on my front stoop (where the squirrel was a couple of posts back), and there was nobody to be seen. I had only checked the front yard because I saw the car leave across the street. The mower was full of gas, which is very nice, but it was left out in the open in a time when the wrong person could wander by and steal it. I swept off the little green leftovers, and locked it in the garage. He didn't even knock on the door, to tell me thank you. Sigh.

So did I pass? Did I fail? Did the teen? Jesus would have loaned the mower, don't you think? Life is full of little hypothetical questions, and daily challenges. How we act in the face of such determines where we go when our time is up. I hope I made the right choice in the face of my own worries.

It all makes me want to go put on some sunscreen, and go mow my own lawn. Work out my salvation... with work (as well as the fear and trembling). Yard work seems to be like gardening. If I can clean up the yard, maybe I can work out the cleaning of my mind's cobwebs. I am reading a book called "The Shack" by William Young, and while I have not yet finished it, it is making a lot of sense in regard to the mess of our souls. We have to clean out once in a while, and be left with a good, empty patch of fertile ground to receive the seeds that God intends to plant in us. More on that later, especially with Niki, who recommended the book to me.

I need to devote more of my time reading the Bible, and less time thinking about the reasons not to loan the mower out.

It All Depends On Your Definition

2008-06-22T19:21:00.007-05:00

Word of the Post
Today's word is: perk
/perk/
Today, we get several words for the cost of one. Ah, the perks of being a reader here at Chelfspace.
1. verb. To perk; to make smart, to straighten up, to display jauntily or saucily, to erect. As in, to perk the ears. Also, perk as a peacock.
2. verb. To gain or regain energy. I perked up after my nap.
3. noun. A perquisite (abbr.), which is an incidental benefit awarded for employment. A company car is a great perk.
4. verb. Percolate (abbr.), which is to strain through. I love the smell of coffee perking.
5. adjective. Perky, as to be bubbly with enthusiasm, to the point of annoying others. Katie Couric is paid to pretend to be perky.
~~~~~~~~~~
This week has been an adventure.

Saturday, June 14, DH and I were honored to pick up Niki and Benny and Max at the airport, so they could run Camp Zenith at O.C. They had an amazing week, and I got to help a few days. I dearly miss my days of being a counselor at Four Corners Encampment in CO. Kids can ask the deepest questions, and they take home a fire from camp that is a high like none other. They learn that there are other kids struggling in the same ways, and they learn to lean on the strong for support. Unfortunately, they also learn to let the weak drag them back down sometimes. Teens are just as human as the rest of us, but learning to handle their crazy hormones, too.

Monday, June 16, DH got up around 7. He cleaned up a hairball. (We do have two cats as masters) Then he took his shower, got dressed complete with tie, went to feed the cats. He came and kissed me goodbye with the "I love you" I get every day. His pattern is set.

Tuesday morning, June 17, at about 5:00, I heard one of the cats giving us a new "gift"... so I got up to clean up. I did not sleep well that night, so getting up early like that meant that I stayed up. Tuesday was a rather long day for me.

Wednesday, June 18, DH was scooping the cat boxes (his job now, so that someday when I have kids, I don't have to touch that junk and make me and the kiddos sick!), and rounding up the trash from all over the house, as is his pattern before we leave for our midweek Bible study. He was just dumping his own trash into the bag from my can (reusing those plastic bags - our small bit to be more green), when he discovered a treasure. The "hairball" from Monday was actually a "hairy" MOUSE!

We always use massive amounts of tissues or a paper towel to pick up the yuckies, so I know DH didn't actually touch the mouse, but now I am grossed out by the fact that there was a dead mouse in the trash on the other side of the room for THREE DAYS. And I am pretty sure that DH is grossed out that he pick up a dead mouse. He says that fortunately, there was enough time between the touching and the noticing that the disturbedness was lessened. Still... Ew.

I don't know which cat caught it, but they put it on the floor at the foot of the bed, precisely in the middle. A "gift" for both of us. How sweet. As if to say, "I know you don't always eat breakfast, but you need your protein. I love you, parents!" I have been grateful for years that the toy mice are not real. They end up on the bed all the time. We even joke about the "Gift of Mouse" that gets left while we are away. This time, I am just grateful that it wasn't on the bed. And I wonder which baby to thank for it?

Today, we got our laptop up to date with new downloads. We had to install the driver to tell the computer that it has a wireless card. Now we can see our own wireless network at home! We also got the new "genuine" Windows copy activated, and now I have to get used to all the updates that have come in the time our poor laptop was disconnected. I used to have cats on my buttons for Firefox, I have to try to get that back. We have been playing all afternoon.

As much of a blessing as this laptop has been, it can be frustrating for me too. I assume (I know this is what my problem is) that the computer should do what I tell it, the first time. Yep, I expect Windows to work. Ha! There is the rub. I guess I have to treat this new update as a new program that I have to learn. All over again. I wish we could afford a Mac. Right out of the box, they work. And I could reasonably expect it to work the same every time. Anyone know how to make a Gateway laptop sleep? Since the Great Blockage, it stays hot if it stays on, even when the lid is closed and the screen goes dark. I have been afraid to leave it on at night, I would rather turn it off, until I can tell it to sleep. I can't have any fires starting in my living room while I sleep.

I hope you get all the perks you could ask for this week!

Random Wordiness: The Musical

2008-06-18T10:13:00.020-05:00

Word of the Post
Today's word is: anathema
/a*nath"e*ma/ noun
I found this on dict.org, my first dictionary site, and decided they had the best explanation:
Anything devoted (especially to evil), a curse, to dedicate.
1. A ban or curse pronounced with religious solemnity by ecclesiastical authority, and accompanied by excommunication. Hence: Denunciation of anything as accursed.
2. Any person or thing anathematized, or cursed by ecclesiastical authority.
This definition makes me want to read Colleen Coble's newest book, Anathema. (Anathematized... wow that looks like a $10 word I could use in a sentence! Ooh, and Solemnity. I love vocabulary building!)
~~~~~~~~~~
I have always enjoyed watching a passing storm. Dad used to turn the couch around to let us view it all through the widescreen of our picture window. Today, the raindrops fall on the trees in gentle music, tickling the ivory keys of the leaves, percussion falling on different surfaces below, creating a symphony of sounds. Like parts of the music in Fantasia (Disney presentation), the scene would be almost serene, save for the clashes of the lightning and resulting thunder's sonic booms. "Drip, drip, drop, little April showers..."

(Funny, that looked a lot longer in the notebook when I wrote it yesterday than it does now that it is typed.) This is the big branch that is still in our backyard. The big tree in the center of the yard is partially dead, and likes to "drop hints" that it needs to be pruned.

So now that you have the soft plinking of piano in the background of your head, I can share more of my last two weeks. The royal owners of the plantation, the cats, were having a busy day guarding the grounds. Can you tell what they are so interested in?

Yes, that is a squirrel... on the front stoop, taunting the cats. Oh, for a paintball gun, or a pellet gun. These nasty little creatures have made all our lives miserable recently. They have managed to get back into the formerly sealed hole in the roof, I think, and they are making a wreck of the cats' senses. Nasty vermin.

On Friday, June 6, when I was granted an audience with the Prince Gum Drop, I took the moment to be paparazzi. (I thought that was a collective term. I wonder how I am one female photographer of stars? Papparazza?) Most of my pictures, and experience, up to that day had been with both the Candy Kids. Here is me, and the Gum Drop.

After we had dinner with Gramma and Grampa, we played in the back of Grampa's truck. Gum Drop left little "ghost" footprints in the dirt in the bed of the truck. Here we see the path of the Sasquatch, coming toward us, through the rough terrain.

This is the resulting dirty foot.

The ants are still around, but only show their faces when DH leaves a little juice in the bottom of the glass. This photo was taken after a three day absence of ants.

I played a little with the view at the side of the glass. Does anyone else read "OC" there? Ack! They are coming back to haunt me! I paid them off, and now they want more. Beware the groove.... Groove!

I spent Monday this week doing laundry and my nails. I told Niki in an email that I had chosen to go with "an obscenely bright pink". This is one of my new little bottles of joy from O.P.I. nail products. The bottles are big enough to give me four or five manicures, and small enough that if I don't like them, they are not a huge loss when I throw them away. If I really like them, then I can buy a full-sized bottle.

This is WAY out of my comfort zone, but will go nicely with the purple shirt I am wearing today for our Steak 'N' Shake luncheon today. Niki is doing what we try to do when we travel. We love to go to restaurants that we don't have at home. When we went to Colorado, DH picked Black Eyed Pea, because we haven't seen one outside of Texas in several years.

I got this picture of Marvel yesterday. I love how I somehow caught him looking at me, and you can see that he has gorgeous eye color. I am amazed that it didn't turn out looking like reflective marbles like my picture attempts usually give me.

This is one happy kitty! Look at those whiskers!

I hope the world is rubbing you the right way today. Have a nap, have a party, have a quiet time with God. Do whatever makes you happy today.

Going Home, I'm A-Going Home

2008-06-14T11:06:00.029-05:00

When last we saw our heroine, she was leaving Gallup, and winging her way East, toward another edition of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Bloggers. (Thanks to Niki who was the clever one to come up with that parody. I wish I had thought of it first.) Aren't the clouds pretty? You can see them all over the Southwest. Sky isn't as open in the big city.

We proceeded to Albuquerque. This is near the interchange at I25 and I40. In Dallas, they call their big messy area the “Mix Master”. Oklahoma City has flyover loops, but not many areas that are so many levels.

Driving through Albuquerque, I always get the sense that they are working on making the City pretty. Their overpasses are painted, their highway walls are stucco and have impressions of art on them. There is a tall thing that lights up at night. Jenna is embarrassed by the thing, but it is nothing if not interesting. I certainly wouldn't call it pretty. It is near the highway, so I didn't get a good picture of it. Which may be for the best.

We first went to Jenna's house, to clean out the car, and visit for a little bit. One of her dogs, Charlie Brown, is convinced that I have to be stared at. He knows my Mom, and he knows me. He seems to know we are similar, but he also knows we are not the same. I wonder sometimes if he has figured out that I am essentially her "pup". He sits on my lap, and looks deeply into my eyes, which for most dogs means a challenge. He will not bark at Mom when she visits. He sits near her when she is at Jenna's, as if she is in need of a guard. Jenna is sweet, moving the dogs to her room, where they can go outside if they choose. DH likes this, because he isn't really a dog person. I am OK with dogs as long as they don't bite me.

We then went to LooneyMom's home for a wonderful dinner. She prepared a Green Chile Stew, and even made tortillas from scratch! We got to meet her lovely family, and we had a good time visiting with her. Some of the people I have met online (and then in person) have spouses who wonder why they are letting this crazy lady into their lives. Not so with Liz's husband.

He was involved in the conversation, and was happy to meet us. I got to enjoy my favorite things about New Mexico: The green chiles and the people I miss so much. I got to indulge myself in a little homemade peach ice cream. We had a fun visit. Like so many other visits before, it ended far too soon. I cropped the pictures so that you can't see the writing on the wall. (There were household scribbles on the white board behind us, and they looked important, but Liz didn't want me to show them to you.)

We left Liz and went back to Jenna's to spend the night. I tried to get a picture of Albuquerque from Jenna's back door. She lives above the city. It was a spectacular view, but my camera didn't do it the justice it deserved.

Saturday, we decided that the 10 hour drive was going to be easy. We were not in a rush to get home. We drove at a leisurely pace, and stopped to see the things we had never stopped to visit. The one thing that really was in my mind was the huge cross on the highway at Groom, TX.

I have seen it from both directions for over 10 years, but this is the first time either of us had ever stopped to actually visit the scene. As I am not Catholic, I don't completely understand or agree with all the 14 Stations of the Cross. I took pictures of the ones that made sense to me. Here is Pilate washing his hands of the responsibility of killing Jesus.

Here is Jesus carrying the cross, with help from Simon of Cyrene.

Here is the Soldier nailing Jesus down to the wood.

A closeup of the hand of the Soldier, holding the hammer. I think of this as all my sin and anger nailing Christ to the Cross. I have this as my thumbnail picture on my profile. It is profound to me, and precious. Jesus still loves me after THAT. How can I help but live for Him?

Near here, they have a replica of the tomb. Up on top of the replica of the tomb there is a scene of three men hanging on crosses. The Center is, of course, Jesus. The other two are the criminals that were mentioned in the Biblical accounts. In the recreation, the thief on the right (the left of Christ) is the one that is repentent, and the one on the left (to the right of Christ) is the angry one. I got pictures of those in the sunset. It was hard to tell the features, because of all the back lighting.

But, that gives us my favorite picture. This is the representation of Christ hanging on the Cross, between two criminals that should have been me, you and everyone who has ever lived.

The area impacted me. It is not often that I can find meaning in images of what people think Christ looked like. These are bronze statues, so there is the earthen color of them, to make His skin look darker, which is closer to the actual Jewish heritage, and less like the Rennaisance/Romance/Pink Jesus usually depicted in art. I can't help but think that we are too gentle with the thought that He was pretty to look at. Isaiah said there was nothing about His features that made us come to Him. It was His love for us, not His pretty face, that put Him on that Cross for ME. It was His words and His way of caring for us that made Him attractive, not the soft hands and well-groomed beard and straight, golden-lit medium brown hair. I find it hard to think of these statues too long, as they are part of what I would consider as a graven image. God thought images were so important not to do, that he made it one of His Top 10 List of Do's and Don'ts.

I have pondered long and hard about huge crosses, because after Groom presented theirs to the world, a Community Church in Edmond went through a lot of trouble to recreate it here. That church put more money in Legal Fees fighting to get the “right” to build such a monstrosity, than my church family makes in many years. What if, for the sake of argument, they had used that heap of cash to feed the poor, heal the sick, provide for the community? Which acts would have shown the world who Jesus truly was? Now, they still have a hurting world to care for, and the only evidence I see of their faith is an ugly structure that may have cost their souls. I simply don't understand what is so important about displaying a cross instead of displaying the love of the One who suffered the cross to save us.

This is the large cross as I saw it looking down from the top of the hill where the three crosses were. You can see the “stations” around it.

To the left of me from this view, there is a building. It has in the center of it, a water fountain, with an image of Jesus standing in the middle, I guess making a speech.

There is a gift shop (that was closed because we were there far too late in the evening). The area continues to grow. The builders are working on a nativity scene. The family and visitors of baby Jesus.

The camel that likely brought them from afar.

Everything was made of, or pointed to, the cross. Even the light fixtures that shine on it at night are supported by crosses.

The rest of our trip through Texas and Oklahoma was made primarily in the dark. We got home, and had to remind the cats that we still live here, and that we would not harm them. We have never been away for a full two weeks before. Even though they had occasional company from our wonderful friend Cathy who came every day to feed them, they thought we had officially lost our marbles. Which I have not. In fact, I even bought one in Boulder.

I am sorry that the Vacation Chronicles have taken so long to finish. We have had a collapse of computer access. My DH is so intelligent. He rescued a lot of our pictures and word files from our failed laptop. He saved us at least $100, by getting into our desktops and burning CD's of information. I couldn't get the thing to let me into any of the programs. We did have to buy a “genuine” copy of Windows XP Home, and that is now loaded. We still have to get a driver, to tell the computer that it has, and can operate, the wireless modem. (We found out after we loaded the new Windows programs that we could have burned that information, too. C'est la vie!)

This post brought to you by the Awesome DH, and the marvels of modern technology. And by the letter T. And also by the number 3.

Oh Six, Oh Seven, Oh Eight.... Oh My!

2008-06-07T16:40:00.005-05:00

Several people have emailed and commented to me that I should put something new on the blog. I have been hesitating and procrastinating. I decided from Jayme's Life Lessons Learned that I cannot spend my "5 minutes" wasted on thinking of doing something when I must DO something. I also chose to put away the putting off of duty, delegation and desire. I should not put off the good I can do today, to wait for better tomorrow, as I may not have a tomorrow. Without further ado...

On Wednesday, June 4, the world should have celebrated a great milestone. However, most of you will never even know about it. 71 years ago on June 4, a man named Sylvan Goldman invented the shopping cart. He first produced them by building a little cart with wheels, that held two small shopping baskets. He also invented the later addition, a child seat in the top part of the cart. They were first used in Oklahoma City. (the news station told me, so don't think I made this up)

Also on June 4 back in 1919, the 19th Amendment to the United States Constitution was instated. It guaranteed the right of Women to Vote. Handy to remember all those 19's.

On Friday, June 6, I was entrusted with a very valuable cargo. I got the opportunity to watch my nephew, Gum Drop, for a few hours while his daddy went to work. His mommy and sister (Jelly Bean) are out of the state on an adventure. This weekend, Gramma and Grampa are borrowing Gum Drop. They have never gotten to have him all by himself, because he is the second child. So, I was trusted to take Gum Drop to the Baby Swap meeting, near half-way between our fair city and Gramma's home. This is a 45 minute drive from Gum Drop's house. He is so laid back, such an easy baby. Totally different from his high-maintenance sister. (Not to say that she is bad; on the contrary, she was an easy baby, too. She just demands more attention.) I took a picture Friday that reminded me much of an old picture of Jelly Bean. Maybe I can get the two pictures side by side here for you someday soon.

I finished reading the most recent book I couldn't put down. It was "Abomination" by Colleen Coble. I loved Colleen's book. It was the perfect blend of thought-provoking and scary. Chills. I was certain the killer was someone else. I see now how she dropped little clues. I didn't see it at the time. Oh, it was great!

I hate to tell her, but there were two mistakes I caught. One of them ruined a bit of the early drama, and the other was a minor typo (and probably not her mistakes at all). I do relish being a Proofreader. I miss it greatly. I need to be in contact with some of the publishers. I want to get transcripts to things electronically, and "telecommute" to work. I don't really want to Edit, per se, but I would love to correct everyone's grammatical and spelling errors. I would so very much enjoy fixing the writers' and publishers' mistakes. Spell Check on your computer program cannot possible find all the mistakes. See? Possibly, you missed it? In a hypothetically perfect world, "an" and "a" would not be interchangeable, particularly in front of words beginning with H. I know. I am a psycho; but my little world is so much more clear, and fun for me.

Today is 06-07-08. It is THE wedding day of the year, supposedly. DH suggested to one bride we know that she should have the wedding start at 3:45. I wonder if there are babies being born today, that will be happy to know their birthday is such an interesting set of numbers? Yesterday was a birthday for a friend from High School (that I have since lost track of). There were three of us, S. born on 04-04, Me born on 05-05 and V. born on 06-06. V. was into lots of strange things, like Numerology, smoking and E.S.P. She commented once on the fact that my upbringing (church of Christ) would not allow me to go to dances, while hers (United Methodist) threw them. It isn't so much that my church wouldn't let me go, but my mother thought I needed to be more mature to go. I was planning to go to my Senior Prom, but when nobody asked (one of two or three nobody's in very particular), I took my father to see a movie. Daddy/Daughter dates were rare, and I enjoyed it. The only downside was that he had to drive home in the downpour of driving, sheeting, bucketing, cats-and-dogs rain.

I have been quietly cleaning up the blog, adding the books I have finished for the 888 Challenge, and massaging the links that I have. I have added a few new links that I have checked often for a long time, but decided to share with those of you who may not go the same route I have traveled. I have removed some links that have not updated for several months. (Jared, I would add you back at a moment's notice, so don't despair!) I finally took down my link to Suezque. It breaks my heart all over again to have to remove something so cherished. I saved the link, and have looked at it often, but I couldn't stare at it anymore on my side bar. In fact, it has been hard for me to come up with something new for the blog, because adding another post would move their remembrance from the top three posts, and I wasn't ready yet for that to happen. I may never be ready, so I decided to do it today.

Flip Flop Mamma lost a close friend recently, as well. He was only 32, and was an amazing story of faith and strength. One of her friends, while at Steve's funeral, said to FFM, "Can you imagine being so amazing that God only needs you on Earth for 32 years?" My memory gave a start, because at the Whitlow graveside service, the second uncle of the three to speak pondered, "The greatest Man to ever walk this Earth died when He was only 33." He was referring to Jesus, of course, and the fact that Gary had not yet made it to his 34th Birthday. I am just 34 myself, and barely so. Stark realizations have set in. I can't imagine that my funeral would be as positive. I must work to change that. I don't believe Gary's age was "coincidence", any more than I think that the tornado was an "accident".

Sally said that she had a friend whose daughter was touched by Gary and Kim's story and dedicated her young life to Christ. What greater good can come out of such tragedy? The work of the Lord goes on, in the lives and hearts of younger people all the time. Legacy. We inherited it from our family or mentors or teachers. It will be passed on to the following generations in the same ways, for all time to come on this Earth. Until Jesus comes back to take us all home, we must forge ahead. Forging is not always an easy or pleasant job. I have to remember to keep looking for good. I have to be good to others, and not let my own disappointment and depression keep me mired in the mud where I seem to be stuck. God will give me His Joy.

DH just told me that Big Brown finished Third. I don't know why that is still so intriguing to me. When I was a child, reading all the horse books I could get my hands on, the current running of the Triple Crown was the only sport I was curious to watch. Big Brown this year had already won the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes. Today was the running of the Kentucky Derby, the third and largest (well, most televised and talked about) race of the Triple Crown. I was rather hoping Big Brown would win. It has been many years since one horse captured all three races. Rare, and exciting to follow. I think Black Beauty got me hooked on the real races, and riding my cousin's horse in the summer trips to Kansas.

Blessings on your weekend!

What Next? I Shouldn't Have Asked That.

2008-05-30T00:12:00.003-05:00

I have two or three bits of posts saved on my now defunct laptop. Along with all the pictures from our vacation. I don't know if I can rescue any of it. Which means that some of the pictures on here are the only records I currently have of my vacation. Joy.

Apparently, 9 months ago when we got our laptop, it came with a pirate copy (or more likely a Volume License copy) of Windows XP. I don't know if the original got stolen from somewhere, if Windows noticed there were 20 machines using the same key code, or what... but yesterday and without warning, I can't even look on my own desktop, because Windows XP is non-functioning. I can't log on to the internet, I can't log into my user functions... the laptop is suddenly one very expensive paper weight. The last laptop had a hard drive crash that was basically irreplaceable. This one will likely be wiped when we install the new "Genuine" Windows XP copy we just had to buy online.

I haven't gotten over the grieving, and now I can't even blog about it the way I wanted to! Frustration. Lots and lots of frustration. We do still have the desktop computer in the office, so I am still blessed with access to the internet. The internet is such a blessing. I have so many friends now that I would not have known otherwise.

So... Do me a favor, please? Pray. Pray that I do NOT get angry and yell mean things to the phone help. They don't get paid enough to really handle that, and it isn't their fault the system stinks. (I have been on the receiving end of that, it is no fun. I know enough to ask for a supervisor, who can get me to the manager, who can get me Bill Gates himself if I have to...but the receptionist or the call center helper in Asia doesn't care that my laptop became a rock with no warning.) Also, pray that the money we spent this evening doesn't end up being down the tubes because of not being able to USE the fix we paid for.

There is purpose to everything, even if I don't see it right now. And I don't see it right now.

"Just like the shapes on my grandmother's rug,
You can't see the pattern when you're too close up.
From my point of view we are all far too human to see...
It's part of the mystery."
~~~ Song called Part of the Mystery by Dana Key (as in Degarmo and Key, if you are interested, but this was from his solo album called By Divine Design)

Also, this week I received some more bad news. I have another friend named Kim, who also died in a car accident, also on Friday last week, and also left a lot of family and friends behind. Kim McDaniel, a friend who lived in Farmington, New Mexico, was going with her family to Albuquerque to join a cruise trip to celebrate her daughter's High School Graduation. The family was in their SUV when they hit icy conditions, lost control of the car, crossed three lanes of traffic, and got hit by an oncoming vehicle. Kim died in their vehicle, and two people died in the other vehicle. So instead of going on a cruise, Jade is healing from her own wounds from the accident, and mourning the loss of her mom. I am crying just typing it here.

I can't fathom the depths of God's love, and I know that He holds both Kim McDaniel and Kim Whitlow in His hands... but I don't know how much more sorrow I can handle. I am weary.

On a brighter note (since we all seem to need one), my Dad has been by to read the blog, and said that he liked my writing. He told Mom that I am very detailed. That was a wonderful thing to hear. I told Mom that it is a fine balance between having enough detail to be interesting, and keeping enough anonymity to be safe. That "way with words" that MammaMia complemented me on came at the hefty cost of a college education I didn't even finish. As previously posted, however, I have finally paid it off. And then I bought another dictionary to read. I have thought about reading the Thesaurus next. Next year, after I finish the 888 Challenge this year.

Please tell your family you love them today. Give them a big hug, and make today count. We may not get a tomorrow.