A Letter to Hal O. Ween

Dear Hal,

I really don't want to hurt your feelings or cause you any pain. But I feel that I must be honest with you and so I am writing this letter, in hopes that it will cause you to explore your inner self. Maybe you will sift through the seeds of your orange life and come away with an understanding of what you really are.

Oh Hal, you are so very entertaining. I see your withered hand, motioning me closer to the bags of candy at Walmart. I see your dark colored apparel displayed, and your tools of deception and mayhem. We love to be afraid. You love to take advantage of that. It's rather entertaining to pretend we are evil. But, let me ask you something Hal. Do you really truly believe that given the chance, we would want to actually come face to face, with a real live zombie? Why would we want to come within touching distance of a real ghoul, vampire or ax murderer? That is just insane.

You do succeed often in your quest to bring us down to your level. We eat tons of food that is harmful to our bodies. We delight in evil and destruction. And for two or three weeks, we are dedicated to fantasy. Today is the culmination of all your plans. You will be celebrated as countless children go door to door, threatening harm if they aren't given what they want. Countless youth will take sadistic pleasure in the spreading of toilet paper. But....but tomorrow, what will be left Hal? Candy wrappers on the ground. Trees wrapped in white. Deflated pumpkins and ghosts. Rotting Jack-o-lanterns.

Do you feel it? Do you feel the breath on your neck? Yes, you had your day in the sun, or moon as it were, but there is something fast on your heels that will blow you out of the cesspool.......

The Christmas Season. Oh yes Hal. You may have one good day, but Christmas has a SEASON. As soon as you have spent your day of ghoulish pleasure, you are over. But the Christmas season is more than just a day. And this celebration my friend, is one of glory and light and happiness. Would we like to come face to face with an angel? Of course we would. And we all wait for the day when we actually see Jesus! What a celebration!!! You Hal, are about death and unhappiness. Christmas is about joy, peace, expectation, life and salvation. There is no comparison. For the next two months, we will eat, breathe, and sleep Christmas. You are finished. The babe in the manger has overcome. And you know what Hal? A few select folks may think about you from time to time through the year, but we try to think about Christ every single day. We honor Him every Sunday. We live for him. Can you say that? No, I don't think you can.

So Hal. Enjoy your day. Take advantage of your short time. Tomorrow you will be a distant memory.

Friday Five

1. Rain Rain Rain. Where is Noah when you need him? The amount of rain this year has been unbelievable. I'm not complaining, just stating fact. The forecast looks to be awesome though, so there is hope!

2. My mother gave me a bucket load of fabric on Wednesday. She had two large rubber containers full of the stuff, and allowed me to go through it all and take what I wanted. Ya Hoo! I was afraid she would have some really lame prints, and she did have a few. But for the most part, they are all great for quilting and a couple of baby projects I have in mind. Thanks Ma!

3. I've really gotten excited about sewing and painting again. For the last couple or three weeks, I've been in a slump and not the happiest person in the world. I started trying to figure out how many Christmas gifts I could make, and the creativity began to pour. I have so many ideas in my head, there just isn't enough time to do them all. It's like my brain can't decide what to do first, and if I don't get it all done right away, I'll forget it.

4. My nephew got married last weekend. The wedding was short and sweet and very country. The bride wore old battered boots under her gown. Her toddler niece was pulled down the isle in a wagon. (very cute) The groom and groomsmen wore brown western shirts, wranglers and boots. No one was ushered in except the bride. No wedding march, just country music. Very unique.

5. The Christian mentoring program I have been participating in, is coming to a close. After the first couple of weeks, I could see it wasn't what I thought. I stuck with it, and it got easier, but still didn't seem like what I had expected. Yesterday was the next to last meeting with my mentor and I realized how good it really was for me. No, it wasn't what I'd wanted, but I made a great friend I wouldn't otherwise have made. She and I agreed that it really didn't turn out she was a mentor and I a mentee. It was more like we mentored each other. And that's fine. At this point, I don't feel I need mentoring, but am not ready to be a mentor either. I'll see how it plays out and if the program continues after the first of the year.

Not This Week

No thoughtful Thursday today. My brain is mush. I haven't slept well in several nights and my entire being is bogged down. I have had little spurts of energy and excitement, but they fade quickly. Last night I got up two times to take more sleep aide, then was awakened by the phone when I was finally resting well. Fortunately, it awakened me from a very strange dream that I was glad ended.

So, no thoughts on this day. Other than fuzz.

I am however thinking a lot about Christmas, but won't post that thought until at least after Halloween.....

What Not Wednesday

I am not....

1. A Gourmet cook.
I do ok. I can cook beans and potatoes, hamburger casseroles some soups, and even chicken and dressing. A few really good easy desserts, but a gourmet chef I'm not. I can't grill either. I'd like to be able to, but I'm afraid of the fire, and afraid I will ruin a good piece of meat in the attempt. I sometimes think I would like to take cooking lessons, and maybe then I could get my egg whites to stiffen up enough for a pie. I tried a tuna casserole last week. Epic fail. Now, some folks don't like tuna at all, and I have to eat it disguised with other things, but I thought I'd try since it's so good for you. I could barely eat it and SR couldn't eat it at all. We just can't do the cooked tuna thing.

2. Mean.
I like to be nice to everyone if I can. And I like everyone to be nice to me. If you can't be nice, be quiet, pretend to be nice or go away.

3. A shopper.
I can deal with short shopping expeditions if I have something specific I'm looking for, but I can't do the shop-till-you-drop thing. About the only time I can spend more than a couple of hours is when SR and I go to antique malls. And still then, I have to take a break from time to time and I get enough real quick. And I hate grocery shopping with a passion.

4. A Hoarder.
When the kids were small, I did have quite a bit of clutter, but it didn't consume the house. It never really occured to me to get rid of something. When we moved to Sheridan, I had to purge a lot and since that time, I am the purge queen. I want it clean and clear. I want my closet organized. I like chachkey's as much as the next girl, but I don't want them everywhere I look.

5. A Leader.
I'm a darn good follower. I can lead children and I love them, but adults tend to intimidate me. I feel like a child around other adults a lot of the time. That would be a good topic to discuss with a counselor....

Thoughtful Thursday

Genealogy

I have always been a sentimental person. I have some jewelry that belonged to my great aunt and my great grandmother and I cherish it. One particular broach is a beautiful cameo and it's just awesome. The other pieces aren't something I would ever wear, but they mean something to me and I'll pass them down to my grand daughter if I ever have one. But, I was never really into digging into the past.




My mother-in-law had that drive. While I worked for her at her dress shop, she would have stacks of correspondence and paperwork that she had painstakingly obtained through what was then the only way to get it. Snail mail. She spent hours and hours writing and requesting certificates and documents proving who her ancestors were, where they lived and died and who their parents were.




In my late 30's when I began working at the county library, I caught the genealogy bug. There was one whole room dedicated to ancestral research and I stayed in that room as much as possible. Most folks try to work on one lineage at a time, but I couldn't stick to just one. I searched and dug for every scrap of information I could find on every line I had. I would stay on the microfilm machine for hours.




I now have notebooks full of documentation and information. I desperately need to organize them for future generations. I haven't been able to go very far with some of my lines, but for others I've found someone else who has done so online. It's amazing what the internet has done for genealogical research. One day, maybe my children and their children will be blessed by my research and what I've found.

Amateur Attempt

Professional, I am not. But I've been very restless the last several days. I can't seem to settle at any one thing, so I walked around my yard taking pictures of colorful flora. These are what I came away with...





They aren't anything to write home about, but it filled a little time. And I love trying to capture God's autumn colors with my inexpensive little camera.

What Not Wednesday #3

I don't know how many more of these my poor brain can come up with, but here are five more things I am not.

1. Imaginative.
I can't really come up with good ideas. Give me one and I can run with it, but I have a real problem with thinking outside the box. I just have to see it to understand, or use it as a jump off point.

2. Stupid.
I may be naive, but I'm not dumb. I can be fooled, but not because I have no sense. Just because I trust folks and take things at face value. I am not college educated, but I like to think I have a good brain and common sense. I know a little about sewing and painting, and I think I'm a pretty fair hand at the english language and spelling. (I use spell check constantly, because I can't stand the thought of misspelling a word.) I can create a budget and stick with it. I can use tools when needed. If I don't know something, I can sure google it. When I worked at the county library, I was a minor whiz at the computer, but it has passed me by now and I do well to blog. Things change so quickly with electronics.

3. Thin.
I am definitely overweight according to health care gurus. But, I am not globby or unsightly fat. Would I like to weigh 100 pounds again? No, I would look sickly. Would I like to loose 10, 15, 20 pounds? Of course! I'd love to be one of those beautiful women on the diet commercials who stand there in their bikini bodies looking so svelt. Never happen. I'm too short, too dumpy, too old and my body just won't cooperate. And I sure can't get all my meals in the mail. But, at age 51, I'm trying to accept who and what I am, and how I look. Try being the key word here, and it ain't so bad.

4. A Spendthrift.
I don't spend much money. Boy, would I love to, but you can't spend what you don't have. And even when I was working, and had more, I didn't spend much of it. I just learned the habit of saving. Sure is a good thing since I have to really watch the budget now.

5. A Clothes Horse.
I've always cared about how I looked and dressed and never wanted to look like I just grabbed any old thing to put on. But even though I love nice clothes and shoes, I don't buy many. At one time, when I worked for my mother-in-law who owned a dress shop, I had more clothes than I could wear and spent more than I made on them. I look back on that time and wonder what I was thinking. Yes, you have to dress the part when you are selling clothes, but I didn't need all that stuff. I wish I had realized that a few nicer pieces are all you really need. (thank you Stacy and Clinton) Since that time, I usually wear something until it falls apart or is so out of style that it's embarrassing. I frequently purge my closet of things that no longer fit too. I don't hold on to something hoping to get back into it. I only own 16 pairs of shoes, three pair of them are worn out boots. That may sound like a lot to a man, but to a woman, that's nothing. I figured out last Sunday that one pair of shoes is about 12 years old. There are no holes in the soles...ha! a funny... and they are still servicable and not shabby. Thus they are still worn.

Beginning to Look Like Fall

With all the rain we've had, it's taken a while for the trees around my place to begin turning. I noticed a few turning as I drove up Hwy 270 last Saturday. The mums on my porch are blooming.



The maple tree in my front yard may or may not turn into a flame of color as it usually does, but it's beginning to have some darkness to the leaves...



We usually take an overnight trip in the fall, to see all the leaves, but I doubt we do that this year. I'll miss it.

OCC Kickoff

Good Monday morning dear readers.

Yesterday our church, First Baptist, Sheridan, kicked off our annual drive for Operation Christmas Child. This program was started by Franklin Graham, in order to reach children all over the world for Christ.

Basically, you take a shoebox, wrap it in Christmas paper, (leaving it able to be opened) and you fill it with goodies. Coloring books and crayons, toothpaste and toothbrush, small toys and stuffed animals, school supplies and anything you think a child who has NOTHING might like. The boxes are then gathered, checked and sent to countries all over the world. You can track your box, and find out where it eventually ends up.

The wonderful woman who heads this up for our church, pointed out yesterday that this is not just about giving a child a Christmas present. It is about SALVATION to that child, and making sure that child's name is written in the Lamb's Book of Life. A video we watched informed us that one box, one little shoebox, was instrumental in bringing two entire villages to Christ. There was also a situation where a child's mother was dying from malnutrition, and somehow, someway an IV bag and money got through the check points and it saved this woman's life. Only God could have done that, as each box is checked four times and this was not something that would have been allowed. Last year we were told of a box that held a pair of shoes. The child that wound up with that box, could not attend school simply because she had no shoes. God is still in the miracle business folks.

This program has touched my heart. So many children are in such need. Yes, we have needs here in the US, but there are so many local programs for us, and nothing for these children in third world countries. I plan to pack boxes for boys from age 10 to 14, since I feel that is what God wants me to do, and I fear most folks would rather pack for ages 5 to 9 since it's a little easier and more fun.

You can visit the OCC Site by clicking on the link above. Search your heart and see if God would lead you to participate in this program. It doesn't take a lot of money, since the boxes are small and the children are happy with anything they get. If you are interested, but don't know what to do, contact me privately and I will help in any way I can.

Smooth and Easy

I've been wanting a blender for a very long time. I just wouldn't spend the money to buy one, even though they aren't expensive. I found a used one in perfect condition at a local flea market and took that little jem home.

My first try at using it was a success. I wanted a smoothie. So, I broke up a banana, tossed in five or six cut up strawberries, a container of plain lowfat vanilla yogurt and the juice from one orange. Wow! Talk about good! I get my fruits and it's something that seems like a dessert. The next time, I'll make sure to use lowfat, sugar free yogurt. I need to be watching my sugar intake.




I'm going to try to use some pineapple, fat free milk and whatever else I find that's handy the next time. I would love to find some good vegetable recipes to use. This seems to be a great way of getting the food I need, in a form that I can enjoy. And it is a great snack.

Thoughtful Thursday

GROWING UP A MARINE BRAT


Millington, TN, Camp Lejune, VA, Bethesda, MD, Shreveport, LA, Rison, AR, Oceanside, CA, and Bethlehem, PA.

I can still replay little snippets of memory. Such an innocent time in the life of a child. We were happiest in Shreveport. My mom was especially happy there. I don't think she ever got over leaving. I went to four different schools in LA as we were in transition. And from time to time, we were back in Rison, and I attended school there too. The following are scenes that play in my head when I think back.

Popping hot tar bubbles in the street, with a stick, on a hot summer day in the trailer park.

Having the measles and looking at all the bumps on my arm. I was outside in the side yard of our mobile home.

A very unpleasant visit to the dentist, in which I refused to allow treatment. My mom felt sorry for me and bought me a coloring book on the way home. Much to the aggravation of my Dad. He didn't feel I should have been rewarded for that, but I had been to the dentist so much, my Mom understood that I'd had enough.

Wanting to go swimming but something was wacky with my ear. It felt like a butterfly had gotten in there and was fluttering around trying to escape.

Riding my bicycle through a trailer park singing out that my middle name was Jane and something quirky about Tazan.

Letting another child talk me into taking a shortcut through the woods to school, and winding up late.

Sticking my head out of the trailer door to see a kid from my class, sticking his head out of his car. His mom had hired my mom to do some clothing alterations.

Watching my mom on the phone while hearing that her grandmother had passed away.

Playing tea party with another girl and drinking so much water I thought I would explode.

Climbing the mimosa trees in the back yard.

My first Barbie. She was the one with the short curly blonde hair.

Creating a "spook house" with my brother, in the garage.

Walking home early from school, in the rain because I was feeling sick, and my mom didn't have a car to come get me.

The history teacher assigning us art projects.

Not understanding math.

Wearing my hair flipped up for class photos when all the other girls had straight normal hair. My Mom was really into doing me up like the 50's.

Seeing the Pacific ocean for the first time.

Cooking out on the beach with the girl scouts.

(California was the biggest disappointment. Just not a friendly place for kids. Not on base anyway. The ocean was nice though.)

Ice skating in Pennsylvania, singing "Where oh where are you tonight" as requested frequently by other kids.

Babysitting most of the little kids in our apartment complex.

Being "adopted" by a wealthy older couple who tried to act as grandparents. Pearls given to me by them, when we moved away.

My Dad still feeling the effects of Vietnam.

Seeing Dad in his dress blues and his uniforms hanging in the closets.

Finding pornagraphy in the complex trash bin. Oh my. I received quite an education in PA.

Working with my Dad at "Toys for Tots".

I don't have a great memory. I've lost so many experiences I wish I could remember. But, I am thankful I still have these small videos in my head.

What Not Wednesday

Here is another installment of what I am not. I don't know how many of these I can come up with, but posting only five at a time helps keep it going. Some are good things and some are not so good, but just the truth as I see myself.

I AM NOT...

1. Aggressive.
I back down in a heartbeat. Any time I've ever come up with an idea of something I wanted to do, that might take a bit of effort, any little negative comment makes me back off. Whenever I've been verbally attacked, I just clam up. I've never thought fast on my feet and can never come up with a defense in that kind of situation. On the positive side of that, it helps me get along with most folks. Someone called me passive aggressive once. Does that count?

2. Mathematically Minded.
Oh, I can add, subtract, multiply and divide, but I'm so very thankful for calculators. I can make change, but am always terrified I'll make a mistake. Numbers just never did compute in my brain. I barely passed Algebra in high school, and even the instructor advised me not to take Geometry. Dealing with money has been a big part of some of the jobs I've had in the past. I always despised that part of it and even decided not to go back to a job that I really kinda liked, mainly because of the big money thing.

3. Inspiring.
I am a good person, and I don't feel like a lesser human being, but I have never really done anything that would inspire someone else. I've not accomplished much in my life that someone else would want to emulate. The only thing I can really claim was worth much, is raising my two wonderful kids. They turned out so great and I did have a little to do with that. It was hard with their Dad working the evening shift all their growing up years. I had to be Mom and Dad a lot of the time, but at least we knew Dad would be there when we needed him.

4. Disciplined.
I have so many ideas in my head that I could do. And I've had so many goals I thought I wanted to meet. Unfortunately, I've never been disciplined or devoted enough to do what it takes to accomplish them. It's like it's just too much trouble, even though I know it would be worth it. Maybe that goes with last weeks number 5, energetic what not.

5. Selfless.
I'm all about me. The purpose of life is to serve God and put him first. I struggle with that daily, hourly, minute by minute. Selfish is my middle name. At least I can admit it. And I ask forgiveness every single day for it.

Halloweenie Thoughts

I've never really been a big fan of Halloween. Of course when I was a child, I loved the candy, but dressing up wasn't one of my priorities. You just had to do that for the candy.

One year, my mom dressed me as a cat. Uh, well, it was her idea of a cat anyway. With little money, we had to improvise as best we could. Mom had permed my hair to a frizzy wave and it tended to fluff out from my head (not in a good way), so she just put two "pony-tails" on the top of my head where cat ears would stick up. She used makeup to paint a black cat nose and whiskers, dressed me in a black turtleneck and stretchy pants, and pinned some kind of tail she made, from who knows what, on my behind.

The main thing I remember about that particular Trick or Treat trek, was being made fun of. I even remember one older kid asking me if I was SUPPOSED to be a cat. As a child I was rather shy, so I just nodded my head and tried to disappear. I can't remember how my brother was dressed, but I know it was another simple idea from the mind of my mother. He was having the time of his life, because nothing bothered him and his main objective was candy. Period.

That isn't the reason I don't care for Halloween. I wasn't scarred forever or anything. I guess it's fine if you like dressing up and eating free candy. But I have never really gotten comfortable with celebrating ghouls and goblins, devils and ax murderers. I even stopped taking my children to the school Halloween Carnival at one point. I've since mellowed a bit about that. Mostly I think it's harmless unless you really get into the horror and evil of it. I wish we didn't have to go through all the candy, making sure some nut case didn't put a razor or drugs in something.


Wikipedia says Halloween has its roots in the Celtic Festival of Samhain and the Christian holiday of All Saint's Day. It is largely a secular celebration but some Christians and pagans have expressed strong feelings about its religious overtones. I've been preached to about it from former pastors, with their viewpoint being that its origins are pretty sadistic. I don't know, but I imagine if my grandchildren care about it, I will be more of a participant. My children didn't get to trick or treat much, because we lived out in the country, but I did carry them into town once or twice to experience it. It was just easier to buy them a big bag of candy and call it a day. If that scarred you LeLe, please forgive me.



My brother was born on Halloween. We could always tell....... *wink*

Sloppy Seconds Saturday

I got this idea from Supah and Lisa




First The Eyes...originally posted 7/10/07

In the process of getting old, it seems the first things to go are the eyes. I've worn glasses or contacts since I was in the 5th grade. Don't worry about how long ago that was... When in my teens and early twenties I wore contacts. After so many years of that, my eyes got tired so I periodically went from glasses to contacts and back. When my health insurance began to cover corrective surgery, I jumped on the band wagon and had the old RK procedure. That is where they actually cut little lines in your lens. It was a miracle of science and I was contact/glasses free for years and years. Enter old age. My RK surgery lasted much longer than the norm and I am very thankful of that, but now my eyes are feeling their age. Before RK, when I'd get up in the mornings I couldn't see where I was going, because I was nearsighted. Now when I get up in the mornings, I can't see what I am doing because I've become farsighted. I can read enough without glasses to do my work, but not enough to read a book for pleasure, or read labels in the grocery store. I have trouble putting my makeup on in the mornings, so I have to stand at a distance from my mirror. There is a silver lining however, standing that far from the mirror, I can't see my makeup mistakes or my wrinkles.... I THINK I look FABULOUS.

Catching up on my Proverbs Challenge

I've been doing pretty well in my Bible reading challenge. I've managed to read a chapter of Proverbs every day but one. That one day I was feeling a bit under the weather due to the aftermath of a root canal. I caught it up the next day though. Here are just a few of the verses that jumped off the page at me this week.

4:18- The path of righteousness is like the first gleam of dawn, Shining brighter till the full light of day.

4:23- Guard your heart for it is the well spring of life.(Put boundaries on your desires and don't go after everything you see)

Chapter 5 is basically a call to be faithful to your spouse and to God.

6:16-19 - list of "Things God Hates" Violent people, haughtiness, lying, murdering, scheming, eagerness to do eveil, stirring up dissention, the untruthful, the sacrifice of the wicked, the proud and those who judge unjustly. (These all sound like something someone else would do, not me. But....don't I?)

Chapter 7 is another warning against adultery against your spouse and God.

8:17- I love those who love me, and those who seek me find me.

9:10-The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.

9:12- If you are wise, your wisdom will reward you.

I'm also working on a Bible study by Angela Thomas called "Living Your Life as a Beautiful Offering" and the one thing this week that made me really think was....

Jesus is the light of the world and we are to work at being like him. We are not to hide our light under a bushel. Ok, I've heard that all my life and even sang that song as a child. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine... BUT I began to wonder, am I really shining? When people look at me, do they see light? Is the light of Jesus shining through me, or am I walking around with a bushel basket over my head? I don't know if any of us can answer that for ourselves. I think we might need someone else to be honest enough with us to say yea or nay on that. We THINK we know, but do we really?

Thoughtful Thursday

Lately I've wondered how different my life might be, if I had taken one of the gifts God gave me, and cultivated it. I'm talking about painting or sewing or something creative. He made me a creative being, and gave me talents that are unique to me. How would things be now, if I had taken one of those talents and made a career out of it? I don't think I could have been a painter, unless I had been trained, because I just have no specific style of my own. It doesn't flow out of me like Bob Ross or a career artist. For me, it's a laborious process, but in the end I'm happy doing it. No real demand for pottery way back when. No extra money to buy a kiln to fire it either. I did paint and sew for profit a while. That was back when the "country" style was in, and folks were wearing the loose fitting jumpsuits, embellished with personalized painting. And painted sweat and tee shirts were all the rage. It was something I really liked doing, but it lost its popularity pretty quick. Sometimes I watch quilting shows and think that trying to piece those intricate designs together would just be nearly impossible.

The last few days, for some reason, I've been wondering what kind of artistic activity I could become involved in now, that would stick with me and be soothing and enjoyable. I've wondered what lessons I could take and where I could take them. Such as watercolor lessons, or ceramics, or pottery, or something to do with textiles. And it's really strange that last night, as SR was flipping through channels, he stopped on the PBS series "Craft in America". They spotlighted several different types of artisans and I was mesmerized. Potters, glass blowers, iron workers, weavers, beaders... it was amazing. Oh, how I longed to be able to do any one of those wonderful things. As I watched those artisans, I told SR that I sure wished I could have found something in me, that could make one thing others would want to buy and own. Something that I would love doing and would light them up when they saw it. And he understood. What a man.

Another strange thing to happen a couple of days ago, is a woman I was talking with in Walmart, told me about her recent trip to a crafts fair in North Carolina. She was talking about how beautiful and unique the new crafts are. We discussed the lack of that in our area, and how the "country crafts" have died a good death and crafts now are more elaborate and classy . Are these three different situations telling me something?

I don't remember how old I was, but my mother once gave me a small, battery operated potter's wheel once. It came with a very small amount of clay and I was thrilled. Unfortunately, it was really small, and really weak and there was no way to create pottery on it. It just didn't have enough power to rotate if you pressed on the clay. She also provided supplies for me from time to time so I could draw, paint plaster statues and embroider.
I had a couple of pairs of jeans that I embroidered roses on, while in high school that I luuuuved. (Once, while wearing them, a friend quoted a Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show song to me. I got a freaky old lady name a Cocaine Kitty who embroiders on my jeans... Funny that.) I learned a little about throwing pottery in high school art class. I still have two "vases" I created.



I learned a little about painting and block printing. I should have at least gone to trade school to learn more about the creative arts, but I chose to get married and start a family. At the time I really didn't feel I was missing anything because raising my kids was the biggest blessing I could have hoped for, and I was able to do a little creative work while I did it.

When I was in the 7th grade, my dad was so interested, that he helped me paint my first picture. (He could draw anything in the world with a pencil) I guess he was trying to help me find a calling, and encouraged me to take it to the art teacher. Her critique was disappointing to say the least. I was untrained, and it was my first effort, and she behaved as a teacher would I suppose. Told me what was wrong with it. Kinda hurt a little. Well, a lot actually. In her art class, with the rest of the students, I made a "woman" by shaping clay around a bottle of some sort. There was an air bubble in her head, and when she was fired, the back of it exploded. Poor lady. You can't tell from the front though.



*Sidebar* I learned more than art in that class. The teens in Pennsylvania were quite a bit ahead of the teens in Arkansas. I heard things discuss by other girls in my class that could be labeled, "Shock and Awe".

It's weird to me, that I can still remember some of the art projects we did then, as well as some we did when I was in high school. Does that equate with the football players being able to remember countless plays, in countless games, well enough to describe them to you in detail? SR is like that. Until just now, I didn't realize how artistic I was while growing up, or how much my parents encouraged that by just supplying me with inexpensive tools and supplies. I will need to mention that to my Mom soon, and thank her. So anyway, I'm in the mood to start a new project. Again.... I just haven't really figured out what yet.

What Not Wednesday

Below are five things I am not. This is not a woe is me list, just the truth about myself as I see it.

1. Witty.
No matter how much I wish it, I never have a snappy comeback, or witty remark to add. I can't write tongue in cheek posts or add a great comic touch to my writings. I can remember in junior high school being able to make the other kids laugh. I was even invited on a group date once, with my date's express purpose, that I be the evening's entertainment. That was a big fail, as I suppose stage fright reared its ugly head. Since then, I've not been so entertaining. Me witty, nah.

2. Tall.
Randy Newman wrote that "short people got no reason to live." I wouldn't go that far, but it really is a handicap being only 5'. And as I grow older, I will shrink as all old folks do. Chairs are seldom comfortable for my short legs, counters are often higher than I would like and reaching any higher than the first shelf of the kitchen cabinet is a joke. I even need a step stool to climb into my own bed.

3. Vindictive.
I don't hold grudges. I forgive easily. I won't say I am not uncomfortable in the presence of someone who has done me wrong, but I don't snub them, or wish them ill. I may avoid that person if possible, but I just seem to be able to move on most of the time.

4. Brave.
I'm a scaredy cat. Scared of heights, going into places I'm not familiar with, performing in front of someone, dying, mice and snakes. I'm sure I could come up with lots of other things for the scaredy cat list. Some of them are really rediculous, but I just can't help it.

5. Energetic.
Bleh. No matter how long I work out, I still have to make myself go to the gym. I wish I had enough energy to be constantly into something and busy. Fail. I'm basically lazy. I keep trying to gain energy though, so I'm not giving up yet.

Tune in next week for another installment of What Not Wednesday....

Happiness is a Root Canal

That was posted on the equipment you see while sitting in the endodontist's chair. Maybe for you Doc.

I have had root canals before and was fine with them, so I wasn't afraid or anxious. Nevertheless, I prayed for God's peace and that it would go easily and quickly. As in prior episodes, after we thought the area was sufficiently numbed, the drill proved otherwise. More shots, woo hoo. Finally we were able to proceed in a pain free manner. For a while, I was just fine, then for some strange reason, I began feeling a bit anxious and uncomfortable. I can't explain why, as nothing spurred the jolt of adrenalin, but I started praying again for Jesus to give me peace, and I almost immediately calmed down and felt fine. Whew!

The doctor regaled me with anecdotes about having treated Jermaine Taylor, his (the doc's) huge house in the woods, behind a big gate, mice in his camping trailer, and all the places he'd traveled. When all was finished, I sat up and my head began to spin. After settling down a little, I was able to walk without tilting and we made it home with no problems. My brain is still a little fuzzy, I suppose from the huge amount of deadening medicine it took. And as I write this, the feeling is coming back and it feels a bit achy.

Some people really have a terrible time with a dentist and it's a major production when they have a procedure. All in all I think this was pretty smooth. I admit, I didn't handle it as well as the last time, but I'm several years older now, and that kind of digging and tugging seems to effect me a bit more than it used to. In any case, it's worth it to keep my own teeth. :)

Chapter 3

I had high hopes of trying to list one good truth from each chapter of Proverbs as I read one a day in October. Good luck with picking just one! Every single chapter is jam packed full of truth and teaching that one just isn't possible. You could study each chapter by itself for weeks and still not get it all.

Keep my commands in your heart, for they will prolong your life and bring you prosperity. Prov 3:1
Will I be rich if I keep God's commands? Not monetarily, but this kind of rich is incomparable. What would it be like to be rich in the Lord? To be so rich with his wisdom and righteousness that you were "rolling in dough"?

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Prov 3:5
We've all either heard or quoted this countless times. It bears repeating. His ways are not our ways and he knows what he's doing.

The Lord disciplines those he loves. Prov 3:12
Discipline = teaching and training, not punishment. That is not to say he doesn't allow us to reap what we sow.

Hold on to sound judgment and discernment...it will calm your fear. Prov 3: 23-2 (the B_Lines translation)
If we are wise in the Lord, and do what he says, why should we fear?

Note to self.

I woke up at 3:30 a.m. with a headache. Probably due to leaving the windows open all night, and the cool weather. I just couldn't stand not to. I took some ibuprophen and eventually it eased the pain, but I never went back to sleep. That is unusual. I gave up and got up before 6:30, after laying there tossing and turning for hours. Then I took an Excedrine Migraine. The pain is still floating around in there and I am feeling a bit icky from all the meds. The only way to completely rid myself of the pain is to take a Relpax, and it makes me so sick I'd rather hurt. At least I had a quiet morning to read my Bible and think.

I've had a little of what you might call Cabin Fever. I can go anytime I like, do anything I really want (within reason) so it's not like I'm snowed in without electricity. But I'm restless and moody. I have a long list of things I could be doing, and I'd be ok doing any one of them, but I'm just not in the mood.

My new hair cut is not behaving as I'd like, not due to hairdresser fail, just because it has a mind of its own. So, I spent some time this morning doing a little clipping of my own. I've been known to cut my own hair frequently. Most of the time I don't mess it up. Most of the time. I'm not sure how it will behave now, but it's just another chapter in my long life of hair hit and misses. I'm never satisfied. I'd love and I mean LOVE to be one of those women, who find their perfect hair style and are happy with it forever.

K-Love Proverbs Challenge

I was listening to K-Love radio yesterday in the car, and they have issued a challenge to listeners, to read one chapter of Proverbs each day in October. I've done this before, but always in a hurry, as if it is an assignment I must get accomplished. Sometimes it would sink in a little, but most times I just read through it at break neck speed and went on my merry way. This time I'm going to take my time and try to absorb as much as possible.

I started last night, and already the old debil tried to mess with me. I shouldn't have waiting until bedtime, but I do that frequently with no problem. Last night my eyes were giving me fits, watering, burning, blurry. Wow, talk about major warfare. There must be something really important God wants to tell me in Proverbs. I'm going to re-read the first chapter along with the second chapter today and see if I missed catching something important.

I may, from time to time, post little snippets of verses that stuck out to me. Last night even with fighting my eyes, I was struck by:

*Fools despise wisdom and discipline; Prov 1:7
(Wisdom is knowing the will of God, and discipline is the doing of it...right?)

What do you say gentle readers? Are you up for a little 31 day challenge with me? Let me know if you are.

Following and Denver

I woke up this morning thinking about my blog and followers for some strange reason. And that old song by John Denver started worming around in my ear...Follow me up and down, all the way, all around... At one time I was all about me some John Denver. I still like his music, but I just like it now, whereas I loved it back in the day. I can remember playing him on my old stereo system that was housed in a fake wooden box. I had a turn table, a radio and an 8-track tape player. I did download a couple of his songs onto my ipod a while back and listen to it sometimes. At this stage, I mostly listen to upbeat songs good for working out.

So, anyway, the following thing. I don't have many followers. I can see from my live traffic feed that I have a few folks who read me. I wish they would add themselves as followers though. It would be nice to see who they are. You know, that traffic feed is a tricky thing. Even when I log on to my site, it may show me being from Sheridan, or Vilonia, or somewhere else I've never been. I guess my dsl provider is in several different areas or something. Hard to understand that.

I know that I am not as worldly interesting as most bloggers. I was raised pretty much in the same town all my life, and was isolated. I don't have a lot of experiences to draw on that I can share with the public. At times I have poured out some pretty personal stuff, but most times I wind up taking it back and rewording it if I repost it at all. I get to feeling a bit exposed I guess. Anyone I know can ask me pretty much anything and I will answer it truthfully. I'm an open book, but to think that strangers are reading my innermost thoughts and whining sometimes bothers me.

Sometimes when I wake up in the night or early morning with a post idea, it leaves me before I can get it down. Luckily, this one stayed with me. Well... I guess that's a matter of opinion... follow me up and down, all the way all around....take my hand and say you'll follow me......