I wanted to be a teacher.
I had three kids. I taught them.
I wanted to be a librarian.
I collect books, and occasionally loan them out. I also helped designed and implimented a book club for kids at my church called, "Club Odyssey".
I wanted to be a philosopher.
I've plumbed the depths ('why can't i?' - 'because i said so!')
I wanted to be a counselor.
I frequented a great one, and learned a lot.
I wanted to be an artist.
I made 'birthday posters' for my family.
I wanted to be a writer.
I blog. I email my friends.
I wanted to be a song writer.
I wrote 'You are the reason I scream, you can make a nice mother feel mean. I had no wrongs, til you came along, and now you're the reason, I scream!' I had to borrow extensively from Christine Wyrtzen's 'You Are the Reason I Sing".
I wanted to be a singer.
I woke people up singing 'Good morning, good morning, good morning! It's time to rise and shine!'
I wanted to be a pianist.
Actually, I didn't. My mom wanted that. But, I am. And my mom is happy about it.
I wanted to be a decorator.
I've come a long way from a 'Hollie Hobby' poster hanging over my twin bookshelf bed. Presently I'm thinking up ways to use the 8 table leaves I have stored around here.
I wanted to be a nurse.
I was given plenty of opportunity to change my mind about that one. Plenty.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Okay...who wants to play "What's On Your Desk?"
I will tell you what is on my desk, and if you take the time to read it, you must respond by telling me what is on your desk. It isn't any fun unless everyone who reads this also posts. To make it more of a 'chain letter' quality, those who read, but do not respond will find that their head might start to itch. Think about that. Do you want your head to itch?
On my desk sits a computer monitor, a mouse and a keyboard.
That should be enough, but today there also sits on my desk a note book, a paper with the order of service for Sunday, my Bible and the book "Plowshares and Pruning Hooks".
A Webster's pocket size dictionary and a pocket size thesaurus sits here along with my current Stampin' Up! catalog and an Avon catalog. And lest I forget, there is an empty diet Coke can, and a big white bowl that a few minutes ago had popcorn in it.
One of those tiny 'bankers' lamps adds to the ambiance, or lack there of. My earrings, watch and rhinestone bracelet are here also.
That's it for today. Most of it will be going with me, and I will drop them off to where they belong on my way to setting the coffee machine for tomorrow.
Now it's your turn. What's on YOUR desk?
On my desk sits a computer monitor, a mouse and a keyboard.
That should be enough, but today there also sits on my desk a note book, a paper with the order of service for Sunday, my Bible and the book "Plowshares and Pruning Hooks".
A Webster's pocket size dictionary and a pocket size thesaurus sits here along with my current Stampin' Up! catalog and an Avon catalog. And lest I forget, there is an empty diet Coke can, and a big white bowl that a few minutes ago had popcorn in it.
One of those tiny 'bankers' lamps adds to the ambiance, or lack there of. My earrings, watch and rhinestone bracelet are here also.
That's it for today. Most of it will be going with me, and I will drop them off to where they belong on my way to setting the coffee machine for tomorrow.
Now it's your turn. What's on YOUR desk?
Is it the weather?
Finally. It is a gorgeous spring day in West Michigan! YES! I believe I heard it was in the 60's. My back door is open, my loft windows are banging in the breeze...I turned the furnace to 'off'.
Hmmm...I might want to put some time into thinking about why I am sitting at a computer in a closet on this glorious day...but I will save that for a later date..
Anyway, today was doctor appointment day for my dad. For someone with the plethora of ailments this man has racked up in his 78 years, he was proclaimed to be in great shape! My mother also seemed to be functioning extremely well. She has been on a new medication for a month now, and I would have to say that it really seems to be working. But then, it is hard not to feel all healthy and perky on a day like today!
We celebrated the day by going to lunch at Old Country Buffet. I know. There are many people who hate those buffet places, but I had a wonderful meal, and could easily stick to my low carb ways (i could have. i didn't.). My mother followed the conversation completely, made no inappropriate comments (she does sometimes pick up conversations with total strangers, which is difficult for my dad and i, who barely talk to people we know!), and never repeated herself or asked what day it was. This is all wonderful, and I feel like skipping, although, I won't, as it wouldn't' be pretty. And, maybe it is just the weather.
Hmmm...I might want to put some time into thinking about why I am sitting at a computer in a closet on this glorious day...but I will save that for a later date..
Anyway, today was doctor appointment day for my dad. For someone with the plethora of ailments this man has racked up in his 78 years, he was proclaimed to be in great shape! My mother also seemed to be functioning extremely well. She has been on a new medication for a month now, and I would have to say that it really seems to be working. But then, it is hard not to feel all healthy and perky on a day like today!
We celebrated the day by going to lunch at Old Country Buffet. I know. There are many people who hate those buffet places, but I had a wonderful meal, and could easily stick to my low carb ways (i could have. i didn't.). My mother followed the conversation completely, made no inappropriate comments (she does sometimes pick up conversations with total strangers, which is difficult for my dad and i, who barely talk to people we know!), and never repeated herself or asked what day it was. This is all wonderful, and I feel like skipping, although, I won't, as it wouldn't' be pretty. And, maybe it is just the weather.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Thrift shopping, again.
Some closet cleaning happened here this week. Daughter helped me. She left with four boxes of her stuff, and a ficus tree I no longer want.
I ended up with three boxes to bring to the thrift store. So, of course, while I was there, I just HAD to look around.
Thrift stores are wonderful little shopping venues for people like me, who have less than two dollars in change left on a Friday.
I snagged 4 books for only 74 cents! Woohoo!
For 25 cents I picked up a hardcover Anne Tyler "Back When We Were Grownups". For a mere 10 cents, I got a paperback copy of "Moo" by Jane Smiley, and "Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind" by Ann B. Ross. And, for only 25 cents "Seasons of Motherhood" by Ruth A. Tucker.
It's that time. Time to slip between the covers. The covers of my bed, that blissful warmth, and the covers of a book that will carry me beyond myself and into the imagination of another.
I ended up with three boxes to bring to the thrift store. So, of course, while I was there, I just HAD to look around.
Thrift stores are wonderful little shopping venues for people like me, who have less than two dollars in change left on a Friday.
I snagged 4 books for only 74 cents! Woohoo!
For 25 cents I picked up a hardcover Anne Tyler "Back When We Were Grownups". For a mere 10 cents, I got a paperback copy of "Moo" by Jane Smiley, and "Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind" by Ann B. Ross. And, for only 25 cents "Seasons of Motherhood" by Ruth A. Tucker.
It's that time. Time to slip between the covers. The covers of my bed, that blissful warmth, and the covers of a book that will carry me beyond myself and into the imagination of another.
(part 2)
WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITE WRITERS?
men - C.S. Lewis, Philip Yancey, Oswald Chambers, Francis Schaeffer, George MacDonald
women - Elizabeth Goudge, Susan Howatch, Anne Tyler, Jan Karon, Leanne Payne, Mel at melodee128.blogspot.com
WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITE POETS?
men - Robert Frost, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Dr. Seuss (i am serious - my favorite line of his comes from "you're only old once" which says in talking about all the pills he takes - 'the small brown one is what I take, if I should die before I wake.)
women - Elizabeth Barrett Browning. She's the 'cheese', she stands alone.
WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE HERO OF FICTION?
Father Tim, from the Jan Karon Mitford books
WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE HEROINE OF FICTION?
Lucilla Eliot, from Elizabeth Goudge's "A Bird in a Tree"
WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE COMPOSER?
Beethoven
WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITE PAINTERS?
Mary Cassatt, Bessie Pease Gutman, and I really LOVE illustrators.
WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE NAMES?
Emily, Steven, Dana, Evan
WHAT IS IT THAT YOU MOST DISLIKE?
Rudeness
WHICH TALENT WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO HAVE?
I would like to play the piano well
HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO DIE?
No thank you, I would not like to die. But, since it seems to be ultimately unavoidable, I would like to be very old and die in my sleep.
WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT STATE OF MIND?
It's presently Good Friday afternoon. My state of mind is one of being extremely grateful for grace.
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
There's always room for improvement!
men - C.S. Lewis, Philip Yancey, Oswald Chambers, Francis Schaeffer, George MacDonald
women - Elizabeth Goudge, Susan Howatch, Anne Tyler, Jan Karon, Leanne Payne, Mel at melodee128.blogspot.com
WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITE POETS?
men - Robert Frost, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Dr. Seuss (i am serious - my favorite line of his comes from "you're only old once" which says in talking about all the pills he takes - 'the small brown one is what I take, if I should die before I wake.)
women - Elizabeth Barrett Browning. She's the 'cheese', she stands alone.
WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE HERO OF FICTION?
Father Tim, from the Jan Karon Mitford books
WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE HEROINE OF FICTION?
Lucilla Eliot, from Elizabeth Goudge's "A Bird in a Tree"
WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE COMPOSER?
Beethoven
WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITE PAINTERS?
Mary Cassatt, Bessie Pease Gutman, and I really LOVE illustrators.
WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE NAMES?
Emily, Steven, Dana, Evan
WHAT IS IT THAT YOU MOST DISLIKE?
Rudeness
WHICH TALENT WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO HAVE?
I would like to play the piano well
HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO DIE?
No thank you, I would not like to die. But, since it seems to be ultimately unavoidable, I would like to be very old and die in my sleep.
WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT STATE OF MIND?
It's presently Good Friday afternoon. My state of mind is one of being extremely grateful for grace.
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
There's always room for improvement!
This comes from Vanity Fair, by way of Jared at Mysterium Tremendum, linked through Thinklings.org (part 1)
Marcel Proust asked himself these questions at the age of twenty.
I, by the way, am 46.
WHAT IS YOUR MOST MARKED CHARACTERISTIC?
I think too much (and i am messy)
WHAT IS THE QUALITY YOU MOST LIKE IN A MAN?
Kindness
WHAT IS THE QUALITY YOU MOST LIKE IN A WOMAN?
She can laugh at the days to come
WHAT DO YOU MOST VALUE IN YOUR FRIENDS?
A sense of humor
WHAT IS THE TRAIT YOU MOST DEPLORE IN YOUR SELF?
Speaking out of both sides of my mouth. I hate that. I do that.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE OCCUPATION?
Anything creative. Music, art, writing
WHAT IS YOUR IDEA OF PERFECT HAPPINESS?
A good book, a warm quilt, a crackling fire in the fire place, a bag of peanut M&M's, and THGGM softly snoring...aaaahhhhhhhh....
WHAT DO YOU REGARD AS THE LOWEST DEPTH OF MISERY?
Spiritually - separation from God
Mentally - nothing to read
Physically - thirst
Emotionally - betrayal
IN WHAT COUNTRY WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE?
I would like to live on the island Albert Einstein imagined when he said "Oh, how I wish there existed an island, for those who are wise and of goodwill." I hope I would qualify.
I, by the way, am 46.
WHAT IS YOUR MOST MARKED CHARACTERISTIC?
I think too much (and i am messy)
WHAT IS THE QUALITY YOU MOST LIKE IN A MAN?
Kindness
WHAT IS THE QUALITY YOU MOST LIKE IN A WOMAN?
She can laugh at the days to come
WHAT DO YOU MOST VALUE IN YOUR FRIENDS?
A sense of humor
WHAT IS THE TRAIT YOU MOST DEPLORE IN YOUR SELF?
Speaking out of both sides of my mouth. I hate that. I do that.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE OCCUPATION?
Anything creative. Music, art, writing
WHAT IS YOUR IDEA OF PERFECT HAPPINESS?
A good book, a warm quilt, a crackling fire in the fire place, a bag of peanut M&M's, and THGGM softly snoring...aaaahhhhhhhh....
WHAT DO YOU REGARD AS THE LOWEST DEPTH OF MISERY?
Spiritually - separation from God
Mentally - nothing to read
Physically - thirst
Emotionally - betrayal
IN WHAT COUNTRY WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE?
I would like to live on the island Albert Einstein imagined when he said "Oh, how I wish there existed an island, for those who are wise and of goodwill." I hope I would qualify.
My Thursday
My Three Year Old Friend came over Thursday. She spent the day with me.
We had lunch - popcorn with cinnamon, cottage cheese, and an apple.
We colored - Clifford the Big Red Dog and bunnies, eggs and flowers.
We played with play dough - we made cookies - and used 'tools'.
We watched the scary Veggie Tales video - over and over and over.
We had a tea party. With water. Lots of water.
We went to my 'work' - played the piano, the keyboard, the drums. She danced, sang and told stories on the stage. There was a puppet there, but, she works alone.
She pitched a fit. I recognized it immediately as an 'I need a nap' fit. So, we went out to the parking lot and screamed at the top of her lungs.
She washed her hands. In the toilet.
Tried putting her to bed. This was easy when she was younger. She LOVED to take naps, and would actually ask to. BaBa'? She would say...and off she would go with Baba'. Not so anymore. She jumped on the bed. I told her how Youngest Son broke his arm jumping on a bed (well, sort of...he had help from Daughter). She became fascinated with the story. DID HE BLEED???
Tried reading her to sleep. The only books available in the room were grown-up in content. Longfellow poems just didn't cut it with her. Neither did Silas Mariner. She peeked out from under the blanket and said 'You have to read about JESUS to go to sleep!'.
Gave up on nap time. Tried watching 'scary cartoons' on TV. 'King of the Hill' didn't cut it. I guess I don't get the scary cartoon channel. Thankfully.
She fell asleep in my arms at 5:00. By removing my sock, I could pick up the TV control from the coffee table and change to something more mentally challenging to me by using my foot. About 5:30, was able to slip away.
Woke her up at six. THGGM was coming home with PIZZA! Worth waking up for.
Woke up MUCH happier. Even she noticed this. While she danced around in the kitchen I heard her say, 'I was SO naughty before, but I am SO happy now!'.
I was SO happy too.
Played a matching game with THGGM. Read 'Clifford the Big Red Dog'. We read this a lot, as I can never remember Clifford's girl's name. She ALWAYS remembers. It is Embaly Elifsabefs.
Where did she go? To THGGM, 'can you see her?. 'She is washing her hands'. IN THE TOILET AGAIN?' 'I am NOT washing my hands in the toilet, I am washing MY FACE!'. THGGM disinfects child. I take two aspirin.
Mommy came to pick her up. Goodbye hugs all around.
I slept really good last night. But, I kept dreaming I was left holding the sleeve of a coat while the back of a child ran off into the distance...
We had lunch - popcorn with cinnamon, cottage cheese, and an apple.
We colored - Clifford the Big Red Dog and bunnies, eggs and flowers.
We played with play dough - we made cookies - and used 'tools'.
We watched the scary Veggie Tales video - over and over and over.
We had a tea party. With water. Lots of water.
We went to my 'work' - played the piano, the keyboard, the drums. She danced, sang and told stories on the stage. There was a puppet there, but, she works alone.
She pitched a fit. I recognized it immediately as an 'I need a nap' fit. So, we went out to the parking lot and screamed at the top of her lungs.
She washed her hands. In the toilet.
Tried putting her to bed. This was easy when she was younger. She LOVED to take naps, and would actually ask to. BaBa'? She would say...and off she would go with Baba'. Not so anymore. She jumped on the bed. I told her how Youngest Son broke his arm jumping on a bed (well, sort of...he had help from Daughter). She became fascinated with the story. DID HE BLEED???
Tried reading her to sleep. The only books available in the room were grown-up in content. Longfellow poems just didn't cut it with her. Neither did Silas Mariner. She peeked out from under the blanket and said 'You have to read about JESUS to go to sleep!'.
Gave up on nap time. Tried watching 'scary cartoons' on TV. 'King of the Hill' didn't cut it. I guess I don't get the scary cartoon channel. Thankfully.
She fell asleep in my arms at 5:00. By removing my sock, I could pick up the TV control from the coffee table and change to something more mentally challenging to me by using my foot. About 5:30, was able to slip away.
Woke her up at six. THGGM was coming home with PIZZA! Worth waking up for.
Woke up MUCH happier. Even she noticed this. While she danced around in the kitchen I heard her say, 'I was SO naughty before, but I am SO happy now!'.
I was SO happy too.
Played a matching game with THGGM. Read 'Clifford the Big Red Dog'. We read this a lot, as I can never remember Clifford's girl's name. She ALWAYS remembers. It is Embaly Elifsabefs.
Where did she go? To THGGM, 'can you see her?. 'She is washing her hands'. IN THE TOILET AGAIN?' 'I am NOT washing my hands in the toilet, I am washing MY FACE!'. THGGM disinfects child. I take two aspirin.
Mommy came to pick her up. Goodbye hugs all around.
I slept really good last night. But, I kept dreaming I was left holding the sleeve of a coat while the back of a child ran off into the distance...
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Today is the 31st anniversary of the very first date/kiss my husband and I shared.
I guess you would call it a 'date', it certainly was a kiss! We were both 15 year old sophmores who shared a lot of classes. So, he came to my house to study Spanish. We were smart kids, who did not need to get together to study. But, as I recall, it was a lot of fun!
Of course, at that age, neither of us could drive. Somehow, that never seemed to be a problem. One of my favorite memories is going with him to collect from his paper route. We needed enough money to go out for dinner, so he went to collect from the people who were behind in paying him. One man held us at the door, and hollered up the steps to his wife, "Hey, honey! Come down here and meet the paperboy's girlfriend!"
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we had met each other as adults. But, we pretty much grew up together, and at what point we became adults, I really couldn't say. Maybe about the time our first pregnancy ended in the second trimester, and we realized that life can be hard sometimes. It was while enduring total bedrest during that time when I stumbled across my favorite quote on marriage.
"My husband - the one who stands by me through all of the trouble I never would have had if I hadn't married him."
Actually, it hasn't been much trouble at all.
I guess you would call it a 'date', it certainly was a kiss! We were both 15 year old sophmores who shared a lot of classes. So, he came to my house to study Spanish. We were smart kids, who did not need to get together to study. But, as I recall, it was a lot of fun!
Of course, at that age, neither of us could drive. Somehow, that never seemed to be a problem. One of my favorite memories is going with him to collect from his paper route. We needed enough money to go out for dinner, so he went to collect from the people who were behind in paying him. One man held us at the door, and hollered up the steps to his wife, "Hey, honey! Come down here and meet the paperboy's girlfriend!"
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we had met each other as adults. But, we pretty much grew up together, and at what point we became adults, I really couldn't say. Maybe about the time our first pregnancy ended in the second trimester, and we realized that life can be hard sometimes. It was while enduring total bedrest during that time when I stumbled across my favorite quote on marriage.
"My husband - the one who stands by me through all of the trouble I never would have had if I hadn't married him."
Actually, it hasn't been much trouble at all.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
My new favorite song, from a favorite passage in the book of Job
BLESSED BE YOUR NAME
by Matt Redman
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
by Matt Redman
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Breakfast today
Today I went to breakfast with my 'Bible Study' friends. We have been meeting on and off for almost five years now. We hadn't officially met since November, so we had a lot of catching up to do. A lot has happened.
At our last meeting, one of the women was concerned about her husband, who hadn't been feeling well. Since then, he was diagnosed with lung cancer, and three weeks ago he died.
Another of the women had just recently turned 85. I wish that I could look that good at 85, but I have NEVER looked that good, even though I am 39 years younger than she is.
The youngest among us had just finished her internship for a degree she is going for.
And yet another brought pictures from her daughter's recent wedding.
One of us wasn't there, because she was with her 17 year old son for his second day of chemotherapy for testicular cancer.
Everyone of these women have played an important part in my life. I am so glad that I know them. How we came to meet together in the first place is truly a 'God thing'.
I am blessed.
At our last meeting, one of the women was concerned about her husband, who hadn't been feeling well. Since then, he was diagnosed with lung cancer, and three weeks ago he died.
Another of the women had just recently turned 85. I wish that I could look that good at 85, but I have NEVER looked that good, even though I am 39 years younger than she is.
The youngest among us had just finished her internship for a degree she is going for.
And yet another brought pictures from her daughter's recent wedding.
One of us wasn't there, because she was with her 17 year old son for his second day of chemotherapy for testicular cancer.
Everyone of these women have played an important part in my life. I am so glad that I know them. How we came to meet together in the first place is truly a 'God thing'.
I am blessed.
Monday, March 21, 2005
The lengths I go to...
I am trying to make up for last week, that week in which THGGM and I ate absolutely no 'home cooked' meals. So tonight, I brown the hamburger and add all the ingrediates to make one of his favorite dishes. Then I notice, I have no rice. No rice? How could this be? How does a woman 'run out' of rice? But, sadly I had.
Being a resourceful soul, with no car and only a 7/11 in walking distance, I start digging through cupboards. Maybe, just maybe, I have a pilaf mix or something. I don't. But, I do have a box of this gross gross gross jambalaya mix that the men in the family eat on occasion. Bleech. They all eat it, then set their watches and call each other when it makes it's exit. I know, TMI. My daughter and I do not eat this stuff, and would never participate in something so 'male'.
Anyway...I digress. So, I look over this mix, to see if the rice is separate. It isn't. It's all mixed together in a foil pouch. The only thing I can think of is to try to wash it, and pick out the clumps. It has clumps of shriveled things, I don't even want to know what they are. Anyway, washing it is not an easy task, and quite a bit of the rice slips away through the colendar. But, I did get it fairly clean, and only time will tell just how much MY rice dish tastes like jambalaya.
But, I did it, for THGGM.
I can't get the stink off my hands, even after numerous washings.
He just came in. I hope it's good!
Being a resourceful soul, with no car and only a 7/11 in walking distance, I start digging through cupboards. Maybe, just maybe, I have a pilaf mix or something. I don't. But, I do have a box of this gross gross gross jambalaya mix that the men in the family eat on occasion. Bleech. They all eat it, then set their watches and call each other when it makes it's exit. I know, TMI. My daughter and I do not eat this stuff, and would never participate in something so 'male'.
Anyway...I digress. So, I look over this mix, to see if the rice is separate. It isn't. It's all mixed together in a foil pouch. The only thing I can think of is to try to wash it, and pick out the clumps. It has clumps of shriveled things, I don't even want to know what they are. Anyway, washing it is not an easy task, and quite a bit of the rice slips away through the colendar. But, I did get it fairly clean, and only time will tell just how much MY rice dish tastes like jambalaya.
But, I did it, for THGGM.
I can't get the stink off my hands, even after numerous washings.
He just came in. I hope it's good!
Migraine Week (weak)
Had you wondered where I'd gone, last week was 'migraine week'. Not the WORST migraine I've ever had (i take medication to avoid those) but draining nonetheless.
I'm trying desperately to find a silver lining in the entire migraine experience, and so far, this is all I can come up with...
I realize that cologne that smells good to some people, feels like a shot-gun blast to the head during migraine week. This causes me to remember to NEVER wear strong scents in tight spaces (not that I ever would...but you know who you are!).
I only want to eat popcorn. This is a money saving feature. Although, I also can't think to cook, so the money saved by eating only popcorn during the day, gets gobbled up in dinners out.
Having sat in the smoking section (my daughter was waitressing there) I have developed a new respect for establishments that prohibit smoking entirely.
Those were the only silver linings.
But, at some future time, I would like to develop a cable station for migraine sufferers. The premise would be that the sound NEVER fluctuates, there are NO flashing bright lights, and ABSOLUTELY no tight plots that have to be followed closely. Okay...maybe we could run the video feed from a Walgreen security cam, but...at least it wouldn't be too painful to watch.
I'm trying desperately to find a silver lining in the entire migraine experience, and so far, this is all I can come up with...
I realize that cologne that smells good to some people, feels like a shot-gun blast to the head during migraine week. This causes me to remember to NEVER wear strong scents in tight spaces (not that I ever would...but you know who you are!).
I only want to eat popcorn. This is a money saving feature. Although, I also can't think to cook, so the money saved by eating only popcorn during the day, gets gobbled up in dinners out.
Having sat in the smoking section (my daughter was waitressing there) I have developed a new respect for establishments that prohibit smoking entirely.
Those were the only silver linings.
But, at some future time, I would like to develop a cable station for migraine sufferers. The premise would be that the sound NEVER fluctuates, there are NO flashing bright lights, and ABSOLUTELY no tight plots that have to be followed closely. Okay...maybe we could run the video feed from a Walgreen security cam, but...at least it wouldn't be too painful to watch.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
I need gum...
Once, long long ago, Oldest Son at the age of two asked me for a piece of gum.
I said, no.
To this he replied, but I NEED gum.
No one 'needs' gum, I said.
Yes, they do.
No, they don't.
YES, they do!
NO, they don't!
YES, they do! Daddy said so. He needs gum.
NO, he doesn't.
YES, he does! He said he needs gum because it gives him good breasts.
??
Um, honey, I think he said it gives him good 'breath'.
Oh.
I said, no.
To this he replied, but I NEED gum.
No one 'needs' gum, I said.
Yes, they do.
No, they don't.
YES, they do!
NO, they don't!
YES, they do! Daddy said so. He needs gum.
NO, he doesn't.
YES, he does! He said he needs gum because it gives him good breasts.
??
Um, honey, I think he said it gives him good 'breath'.
Oh.
I don't have a two year old friend any more...
My formerly two year old friend has recently turned three. Two is my absolute favorite age, so it was hard to see her go. But, I can tell that she will be just as darling at being a three year old as she was at being a two year old, and a one year old...
Anyway...she came in with 'prizes' on Friday. The prizes were an awesome array of odd treasures in a bubble wrap bag. We played a match game, colored in a Bob the Builder coloring book, drew pictures of Clifford the Big Red Dog, read a pile of books, watched Veggie Tales, fed bones to the three dogs, commented on how superior cats are to dogs, and hid in the bathroom from the green monsters that were after ME. Not her. Monsters do not want her. She doesn't have any. But I do. We had lunch. Peanut butter and jelly.
I can't remember when I have had more fun on a Friday. All Friday's should be spent hiding in a bathroom from green monsters.
Anyway...she came in with 'prizes' on Friday. The prizes were an awesome array of odd treasures in a bubble wrap bag. We played a match game, colored in a Bob the Builder coloring book, drew pictures of Clifford the Big Red Dog, read a pile of books, watched Veggie Tales, fed bones to the three dogs, commented on how superior cats are to dogs, and hid in the bathroom from the green monsters that were after ME. Not her. Monsters do not want her. She doesn't have any. But I do. We had lunch. Peanut butter and jelly.
I can't remember when I have had more fun on a Friday. All Friday's should be spent hiding in a bathroom from green monsters.
My Saturday
My Saturday consisted of work, breakfast with THGGM and Youngest Son, thrift shopping, antique shopping, mall shopping, dinner out, grocery shopping, clearance shopping, filling the weekly pill boxes for my parents, and ended with some Trading Spaces. At every comma, one can fill in the activities that happen when you also have 3 dogs and one cat. Quite a bit of drama, actually. But, we all survived.
I found a lovely little china plate, to add to my ever growing collection of lovely little china plates. I hadn't realized I was collecting them, until I noticed that I have quite a few. I keep buying them, thinking what darling little soap dishes they will make for gifts. So far, I've yet to give one.
I also found three hardcover books by an author Oldest Son is collecting. These are like new, and were only 25 cents each.
I found a lovely little china plate, to add to my ever growing collection of lovely little china plates. I hadn't realized I was collecting them, until I noticed that I have quite a few. I keep buying them, thinking what darling little soap dishes they will make for gifts. So far, I've yet to give one.
I also found three hardcover books by an author Oldest Son is collecting. These are like new, and were only 25 cents each.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Once upon a time
Once upon a time...a time far far away from now, a family lived in the city. The mom stayed home to care for the three darling children. The dad worked a full-time job, besides a second job cleaning a local bank. This bank cleaning job caused him to leave home very early in the morning.
In this time, far far away from now, the youngest boy would awaken from his slumber, and discover himself to be very cold and very wet. This occurred every day. He found this tiresome, and would strip himself naked and run into bed with the mom. The mom would wrap him tightly in the still warm covers from the dad's side of the bed. This darling boy would usually have something insightful to say at this early morning ritual. Quite often it would be a prayer request that he had heard. After praying, he would settle in for an hour or more of sleep.
But, one morning. . . one bank holiday morning in that time far far away from now, when the darling little naked boy arrived in the room, the dad was still in bed. This troubled the darling naked boy greatly. Quickly, he ran to the mom's side of the bed and demanded to know in his loudest voice -
"WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?!"
In this time, far far away from now, the youngest boy would awaken from his slumber, and discover himself to be very cold and very wet. This occurred every day. He found this tiresome, and would strip himself naked and run into bed with the mom. The mom would wrap him tightly in the still warm covers from the dad's side of the bed. This darling boy would usually have something insightful to say at this early morning ritual. Quite often it would be a prayer request that he had heard. After praying, he would settle in for an hour or more of sleep.
But, one morning. . . one bank holiday morning in that time far far away from now, when the darling little naked boy arrived in the room, the dad was still in bed. This troubled the darling naked boy greatly. Quickly, he ran to the mom's side of the bed and demanded to know in his loudest voice -
"WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?!"
My daughter called...
She called at 6:00 pm to let me know that she is at the San Diego zoo, waiting for the otter show to begin. It is 75 degrees there.
Hmmm...
Here it is about 20 degrees and snowing like crazy. The road report has just told me that the highway THGGM travels home on is having a big problem with slide-offs. I am covered with dogs - one on my lap trying to get to the phone, one at my side trying to lick all of the skin off my neck, and one cluelessly dancing around my feet...excited over what, she knows not.
I hear the sound of the otter show beginning, and Daughter hangs up. The garage door goes up, and suddenly the dogs go into 'wild mode'. "Grandpa" is home. This causes them to run, jump, twirl, whirl, and throw themselves at his body as he walks in the door.
Now, generally, I DO try to make that big of a deal over his homecoming. Especially after an hour on a snowy blowy highway. I no longer run, jump, twirl or whirl, nor do I throw myself at him. Instead, I made a roast. It seems he likes that better anyway.
Overly stimulated Max, the one who ate the coffee grounds out of the trash, left a series of scratches down THGGM's arm. It left the kind of marks on which one could write a musical score. I've said it before...it is a good thing that we love these dogs.
Presently, I'm pondering why I could hear my daughter's voice from San Diego, but could not feel the 75 degree warmth. Someone needs to work on improving technology so that it benefits ME more. Why can't the warmth be sent? Somehow, it seems like that would be easier than sending sound. SEND HEAT!!!
Today I never left the house at all. Unless you count the times I had to run into the backyard to bring in my cold and shaking stubborn dog. I am not going to count those.
I need to get out more.
Hmmm...
Here it is about 20 degrees and snowing like crazy. The road report has just told me that the highway THGGM travels home on is having a big problem with slide-offs. I am covered with dogs - one on my lap trying to get to the phone, one at my side trying to lick all of the skin off my neck, and one cluelessly dancing around my feet...excited over what, she knows not.
I hear the sound of the otter show beginning, and Daughter hangs up. The garage door goes up, and suddenly the dogs go into 'wild mode'. "Grandpa" is home. This causes them to run, jump, twirl, whirl, and throw themselves at his body as he walks in the door.
Now, generally, I DO try to make that big of a deal over his homecoming. Especially after an hour on a snowy blowy highway. I no longer run, jump, twirl or whirl, nor do I throw myself at him. Instead, I made a roast. It seems he likes that better anyway.
Overly stimulated Max, the one who ate the coffee grounds out of the trash, left a series of scratches down THGGM's arm. It left the kind of marks on which one could write a musical score. I've said it before...it is a good thing that we love these dogs.
Presently, I'm pondering why I could hear my daughter's voice from San Diego, but could not feel the 75 degree warmth. Someone needs to work on improving technology so that it benefits ME more. Why can't the warmth be sent? Somehow, it seems like that would be easier than sending sound. SEND HEAT!!!
Today I never left the house at all. Unless you count the times I had to run into the backyard to bring in my cold and shaking stubborn dog. I am not going to count those.
I need to get out more.
My day has gone to the dogs...
I am the happy owner of a darling old Westie by the name of Niki. I also have two grand dogs. These guys are still full of puppy energy, although they are each about a year and a half old.
Max is a 75 pound sweet heart, who my daughter and son-in-law got from the pound as a puppy. He and I are nicely bonded, as he spend quite a bit of his puppyhood at my house. I adore him, and he adores me.
Charley is about 35 - 40 pounds of muscular beagle mix. I never thought I could fall in love with such a sad looking creature. But, when he presses his warm little body up against me, I melt.
Max is part Husky, and is presently in my backyard. He loves it there. It's only in the 20's and is snowing furiously, but he is still gathering sticks, treeing squirrels, and ripping apart a pizza box. He must also be part beaver, as he is trying to bite down a large tree, and actually is making much headway. When I open the door to let him in, he runs the other way with his head high in the air. He does not want to come in. Ever.
Charley is just the opposite. He spent the first year of his life living outside. His home was under a porch. Now it seems he is loathe to repeat those days. He smells like an outside dog though, so I keep trying to encourage him to stay out there. So far, I am not having any luck. The only thing he seems to delight in back there is to bite off chunks of ice and lick them like popcicles.
Niki just loves going outside with these two wild nephews of hers. But, she cannot stand the cold anymore (it has gone on rather relentlessly around here) and I have to chase her down and bring her in to get her warmed up.
So, for the one person who might be interested, this is what I have discovered about dogs today:
It is very important that you pee in just the right spot. Then, after everyone has found just the right spot, is it also very important that you pee on the exact spot where the others have just peed. This takes up a good share of the morning.
It is also very important that you play a sort of doggy 'match game', trying to match the pee smell to the bottom it came from. This game goes on even longer, and is just plain gross.
Then you have to play an aggressive game of 'this is my stick and you may not have it even though I am shaking it in your face'. Next comes synchronized running. I haven't figured out what this means, although it looks much like a dance.
Next it's on to bark at, and corner, Niki. The only problem with this game, is that Niki cannot hear the barking. So, she doesn't get the game part of this, and ignores them completely, which frustrates them into barking even louder (we have no close neighbors)
I'm sure Charley's dog name is '"Lifts His Leg Charley" which is why I keep him where I can see him. Earlier today he settled down by me for a deep snuggle. Niki sat next to us, looking a bit hurt. Max quietly sneaked away...
Sneaking away is never a good sign, even for a good boy like Max. He ate the coffee grounds out of the trash. I doubt that he is even feeling the cold outside, and probably will not nap for a few days either.
Hmmm...maybe I should eat the coffee grounds...
Max is a 75 pound sweet heart, who my daughter and son-in-law got from the pound as a puppy. He and I are nicely bonded, as he spend quite a bit of his puppyhood at my house. I adore him, and he adores me.
Charley is about 35 - 40 pounds of muscular beagle mix. I never thought I could fall in love with such a sad looking creature. But, when he presses his warm little body up against me, I melt.
Max is part Husky, and is presently in my backyard. He loves it there. It's only in the 20's and is snowing furiously, but he is still gathering sticks, treeing squirrels, and ripping apart a pizza box. He must also be part beaver, as he is trying to bite down a large tree, and actually is making much headway. When I open the door to let him in, he runs the other way with his head high in the air. He does not want to come in. Ever.
Charley is just the opposite. He spent the first year of his life living outside. His home was under a porch. Now it seems he is loathe to repeat those days. He smells like an outside dog though, so I keep trying to encourage him to stay out there. So far, I am not having any luck. The only thing he seems to delight in back there is to bite off chunks of ice and lick them like popcicles.
Niki just loves going outside with these two wild nephews of hers. But, she cannot stand the cold anymore (it has gone on rather relentlessly around here) and I have to chase her down and bring her in to get her warmed up.
So, for the one person who might be interested, this is what I have discovered about dogs today:
It is very important that you pee in just the right spot. Then, after everyone has found just the right spot, is it also very important that you pee on the exact spot where the others have just peed. This takes up a good share of the morning.
It is also very important that you play a sort of doggy 'match game', trying to match the pee smell to the bottom it came from. This game goes on even longer, and is just plain gross.
Then you have to play an aggressive game of 'this is my stick and you may not have it even though I am shaking it in your face'. Next comes synchronized running. I haven't figured out what this means, although it looks much like a dance.
Next it's on to bark at, and corner, Niki. The only problem with this game, is that Niki cannot hear the barking. So, she doesn't get the game part of this, and ignores them completely, which frustrates them into barking even louder (we have no close neighbors)
I'm sure Charley's dog name is '"Lifts His Leg Charley" which is why I keep him where I can see him. Earlier today he settled down by me for a deep snuggle. Niki sat next to us, looking a bit hurt. Max quietly sneaked away...
Sneaking away is never a good sign, even for a good boy like Max. He ate the coffee grounds out of the trash. I doubt that he is even feeling the cold outside, and probably will not nap for a few days either.
Hmmm...maybe I should eat the coffee grounds...
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Hmmm....
Youngest son is twenty. He is off somewhere at a seminar for the camp he works for. I don't even know where he is.
When I was twenty I was married and worked full time as a keypunch operator.
My Daughter is twenty two. She is married, is a full-time student, works, and has two lively dogs. The lively dogs are on their way to my house right now, as Daughter and Son-in-law are flying to San Diego today.
When I was twenty two, I was pregnant. I worked as a church secretary. This will be her second flight to California. She has also been to Aruba, Cancun, New York City, Florida twice and three times to Washington DC. I still haven't been to any of those places.
Oldest son is 24. He graduates from college in May. He is married. He and his wife will be traveling next week from Oxford to London, Paris, Rome, Vienna and Venice.
When I was 24 I had two children. My days were full of Dr. Seuss and diapers. The only trips I took were to visit the pediatrician. It was at about this time that "the husband God gave me" and I sold our class rings to go out to dinner.
When I was twenty I was married and worked full time as a keypunch operator.
My Daughter is twenty two. She is married, is a full-time student, works, and has two lively dogs. The lively dogs are on their way to my house right now, as Daughter and Son-in-law are flying to San Diego today.
When I was twenty two, I was pregnant. I worked as a church secretary. This will be her second flight to California. She has also been to Aruba, Cancun, New York City, Florida twice and three times to Washington DC. I still haven't been to any of those places.
Oldest son is 24. He graduates from college in May. He is married. He and his wife will be traveling next week from Oxford to London, Paris, Rome, Vienna and Venice.
When I was 24 I had two children. My days were full of Dr. Seuss and diapers. The only trips I took were to visit the pediatrician. It was at about this time that "the husband God gave me" and I sold our class rings to go out to dinner.
Friday, March 04, 2005
I have a general theory about books. I like to read books that have been written by men who are now dead, and women who are very old. From time to time I find books written by men still living, and I enjoy them, yet always with a cynical 'ah, well you're not dead yet!' thrown in for good measure. It must be that I assume, be it ever so falsely, that an old woman isn't going to seriously screw up her life, but, an old man...well, you never know.
Having said that, here is a list of some of my very favorite dead men authors:
Oswald Chambers
C. S. Lewis
Francis Schaeffer
George MacDonald
And, my favorite still living older women authors:
Edith Schaeffer
Leanne Payne
Elizabeth Eliott
Of living men, I read everything that Larry Crabb writes. I highly doubt that we would ever be friends, though. He seems awfully moody. But, I always come away from his books knowing that I have thought those very same things.
I also read Philip Yancey, John Piper, Dallas Willard and Jim Cymbala.
I truly struggle to read books by younger women. And, I sometimes feel empty after reading books by authors who are humorous. I'm not sure why, as if I were ever to write, that is how I would feel most comfortable doing it.
Hmmm...maybe what holds me back from the younger writer, is that I know how much my thinking has changed over the years. I hold their books in my hand, and think...honey, you haven't live long enough to KNOW that for sure.
Anyway...those are just some thoughts that fell out of my brain today. Who knows? Tomorrow I might mature into a woman who thinks this is all a bucket of slop.
Having said that, here is a list of some of my very favorite dead men authors:
Oswald Chambers
C. S. Lewis
Francis Schaeffer
George MacDonald
And, my favorite still living older women authors:
Edith Schaeffer
Leanne Payne
Elizabeth Eliott
Of living men, I read everything that Larry Crabb writes. I highly doubt that we would ever be friends, though. He seems awfully moody. But, I always come away from his books knowing that I have thought those very same things.
I also read Philip Yancey, John Piper, Dallas Willard and Jim Cymbala.
I truly struggle to read books by younger women. And, I sometimes feel empty after reading books by authors who are humorous. I'm not sure why, as if I were ever to write, that is how I would feel most comfortable doing it.
Hmmm...maybe what holds me back from the younger writer, is that I know how much my thinking has changed over the years. I hold their books in my hand, and think...honey, you haven't live long enough to KNOW that for sure.
Anyway...those are just some thoughts that fell out of my brain today. Who knows? Tomorrow I might mature into a woman who thinks this is all a bucket of slop.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
My theory on the death of brain cells
Where, exactly, in the body to brain cells go when they die? Mine are noticeably dropping dead at an alarming rate. My theory is that those dead brain cells enter my diabetic blood stream, and my system does not know what to do with them, so it just does what it does with everything else, and turns it into fat. Yes. Fat. Particularly the kind that hangs around my stomach. And I DO mean 'hangs'.
I have noticed lately, that this dearth of dying brain cells is showing up in my inability to spell. In the fifth grade, I was NEVER less than the third one chosen for a spelling bee. Now, I can't even get spellcheck to recognize what word I am trying to spell. And my fingers keep getting letters out of order as I type. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I type 'who' when I mean 'how', or...more recently 'glob' when what I actually mean to spell is 'blog'. Of course, spellcheck does not pick those up, so I basically look like an idiot.
Also, when I do a crossword puzzle, I can no longer remember those simple words that appear over and over again. Like 'obi'.
BUT, I NEVER forget things that are profoundly embarrassing! They just keep dancing through my head, probably stomping all over the dying 'spelling' brain cells on their way to causing me to laugh uproariously at inopportune times.
Then, I have a different sort of 'fear' brain cell, that will suddenly remind me that I am doing something (anything...it doesn't matter what) in public - which of course means in front of actual living breathing human beings. Those brain cells will then choose to die right there, and I will be left sitting at a piano in front of people who are singing, and I no longer remember how to play. Thankfully, I still have a few 'lets try to keep this woman from looking like a complete idiot' brain cells, that will kindly rush over and fill in for the now dead 'fear' of piano playing ones. But, there is an obvious gap in the song.
Even worse, is asking someone a question. They answer in good time, yet the answer makes no sense to me, as I have already forgotten the question. My 'lets try to keep this woman from looking like a complete idiot' brain cells are being greatly overworked, and soon will commit mass suicide. Then where will I be?
Worst of all, my mother is suffering from dementia. One of the little quizzes the medical community pops on these people is counting backwards from 100 by sevens. Even in my days of scoring very well on tests, I could NEVER just count backwards from 100 by sevens. So, when I remember this...I practice. So far I can get from 100 to 93 without too much trouble. And, just to make things worse for ME, my mother can do it!
Anyway, that's my theory and I'm sticking to it because I have the fat around my middle to prove it!
I have noticed lately, that this dearth of dying brain cells is showing up in my inability to spell. In the fifth grade, I was NEVER less than the third one chosen for a spelling bee. Now, I can't even get spellcheck to recognize what word I am trying to spell. And my fingers keep getting letters out of order as I type. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I type 'who' when I mean 'how', or...more recently 'glob' when what I actually mean to spell is 'blog'. Of course, spellcheck does not pick those up, so I basically look like an idiot.
Also, when I do a crossword puzzle, I can no longer remember those simple words that appear over and over again. Like 'obi'.
BUT, I NEVER forget things that are profoundly embarrassing! They just keep dancing through my head, probably stomping all over the dying 'spelling' brain cells on their way to causing me to laugh uproariously at inopportune times.
Then, I have a different sort of 'fear' brain cell, that will suddenly remind me that I am doing something (anything...it doesn't matter what) in public - which of course means in front of actual living breathing human beings. Those brain cells will then choose to die right there, and I will be left sitting at a piano in front of people who are singing, and I no longer remember how to play. Thankfully, I still have a few 'lets try to keep this woman from looking like a complete idiot' brain cells, that will kindly rush over and fill in for the now dead 'fear' of piano playing ones. But, there is an obvious gap in the song.
Even worse, is asking someone a question. They answer in good time, yet the answer makes no sense to me, as I have already forgotten the question. My 'lets try to keep this woman from looking like a complete idiot' brain cells are being greatly overworked, and soon will commit mass suicide. Then where will I be?
Worst of all, my mother is suffering from dementia. One of the little quizzes the medical community pops on these people is counting backwards from 100 by sevens. Even in my days of scoring very well on tests, I could NEVER just count backwards from 100 by sevens. So, when I remember this...I practice. So far I can get from 100 to 93 without too much trouble. And, just to make things worse for ME, my mother can do it!
Anyway, that's my theory and I'm sticking to it because I have the fat around my middle to prove it!
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