The Winds And The Waves

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

The Results Are In

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today, you get to hear the results.

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

10% Ethanol Mix Gas.

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

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

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

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

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

More Ways To Cook A Pumpkin

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

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

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

Christmas has officially begun for me.

Have a Blessed Day!

The Second Season Of The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Bloggers

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

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

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



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

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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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

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

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

Complaining To Your English Teacher For Failing Math

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Sound Of Silence Has A Loud Echo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a sparkly day!

How Long?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hello again, readers!

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

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

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

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

We learned action verbs. Over....

Under....

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

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

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

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

Cue the Dramatic Music...

So Much For Staying Quiet

So much for keeping politics off the blog.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what if Michelle Obama paints the house black?

Discount Spelling Causes Business Laughs Galore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy your adventures this week!

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

I am watching the Presidential Debate, and I am about to cry. This is a contest of the poo-flinging monkeys. Nobody wins, and they both get dirty. I want to quote Glenn Beck. I once heard him say that he had "de ja moo. The feeling that we have heard this bull before." I am seriously sick of it. I get tired of the name dropping and the mud slinging.

Either way, "change" is on our horizon. Bush is out, and someone else is in. I think this contest is going to be more a popularity contest, and I have to say I am afraid that the greatest country in the world is in trouble, no matter who wins. If McCain wins, he will be blocked at every turn by a Democrat controlled Congress, and then blamed for the failures that happen. If Obama wins, Socialism takes over, and "the working man" he says he will help will be carrying the national debt on his shoulders. (Worst of all, I will have to find a job again. The scream will be heard round the blogs...) (Note the sarcasm. You won't be able to hear the screams, silly.) This election has gotten off track and out of context. There is more hearsay than actual ideas, and nobody really knows anything about the actual intent of the administration.

The most important part about it to me is that the only day that matters is Tuesday, November 4th. These talks will not change my mind significantly. I doubt that anyone who has made up their mind can truly be swayed now. The debates will only solidify the opinions already in the minds of the staunch. The goal is for the candidates to sway the undecided voters. Unfortunately, smooth talking will get a lot of votes for the liar who won't really say what kind of "change" he intends to inflict on us. I will leave it up to you to decide which candidate I speak of. (because I am not sure either...)

I have tried to stay neutral here on the blog, but it is no secret that I support Conservative talk radio in my area, and I am a Conservative in my personal views. I won't try to lobby for your vote to my side... just that you vote. If you don't vote, you cannot complain. I can complain all I want, and I should complain to the people who can do something about it. After all, they are there to represent me. I think of The Princess Bride: "Have I made it clear that your JOB is on the line?!?!?"

I have heard somewhere in my educational years that the average life-span of a world power is 200 years. We do all realize that the U.S. is at 232, right? Alright, enough of that. You have your opinons and I can't change them. You are probably as tired of this as I am, anyway. Right?

I am a Football Widow again for the High School season. I have not yet seen the score for DH's High School. I don't know if there is a final yet. Some games are Thursday, most on Friday. He usually keeps tabs on it. I have been looking on Facebook for friends from other places. I have been watching the debates (not going back to that). I have been reading. I have not been paying attention to football. {Edit: DH came home and said that his school lost. Lost big. *sniff*}

DH also has a friend who is taking him to a college game tomorrow. Unfortunately, the game is for the other team. DH likes OU, the University of Oklahoma. Crimson and Cream. The game he is going to see (free ticket, so we don't complain) is OSU, Oklahoma State University. Ugly orange. The rivals. I lose him for another night this week. Which is fine. I can go shopping, watch the newest "chick flick", and listen to Country music all night. I should probably have a "Hubby-proofed" dinner of rice with Broccoli in it, too.

I have been reading the newest book in the Inheritance Cycle, Brisingr. This is the third book by Christoper Paolini, and has cover art by John Jude Palencar. I have had a good time with these books, because Paolini made up his own languages, and started all of this when he was still in High School. He was self published before being discovered and nationalized. I wanted to go to the Midnight Release at my local Books A Million, but I was in TX for DH's great uncle's funeral. Roadrunner went, but I haven't had a chance to talk to her about the "event". The cashier that helped me when I picked up my copy was... less than enthusiastic. It was apparently not really popular, nothing like the Harry Potter Midnight Releases. Roadrunner was done with the book in two days. This does not surprise me. She reads faster than I do. Which, is pretty amazing. I just wish I could recall more of what I read. She helps me actually retain what I read, because we discuss.

I have been killing house flies all day long. No less than 20, and I know there are still two or three floating around here, because I just saw one on the television. I have no idea where they are all coming from. I can't blame them, really. I did make some awesome banana bread muffins yesterday evening. I have been cooking more often, to save money and to eat healthier.

I have been thinking about coloring my hair again. I like going a little lighter than my naturally dark brown, and lot more auburn. I have one prominent WHITE strand in my bangs, and it has started to bother me. I don't really know why. In the past, I thought of it as a personal rite of passage. I don't know why that little hair should cause such a stir, or why the stir comes now. It is so selfish and childish and vain. The hair glares at me. Brightened, magnified, by the flourescent bulbs over the bathroom mirror. Maybe it is my addiction to Alias, and Jennifer Garner's beautiful brunette tresses. Maybe it is my own desire to keep the public image of youth. Maybe it is just me being a girl.

Veni, Vidi, Venti

Word of the Post
Today's word is: tschotschke
/chach"keh/ noun
From Merriam-Webster online at http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/tchotchke
Yiddish for trinket, from obsolete Polish czaczko. Useless bauble, pretty but trivial. Cheap gewgaw.
When I got married, my friend told me she wanted to get me something useful, not some tschotschke that would be gathering dust on a shelf I didn't have.
~~~~~~~~~~~
First of all, thank you all. For caring about me, and really paying attention to my blabbering. It is refreshing and very important to me.

For those of you sweet enough to suggest that Mom find a new doctor, I regret to inform you that Farmington, New Mexico isn't the biggest town, and no, there is no other specialist that she can see there. To get another requires a different city. Albuquerque is probably the biggest and nearest option, but that would require a lot of driving that she can't do, or moving the household that Dad can't do for another 4 years (when he can collect the retirement money he has worked so hard to earn!). I do have my buddy, Stacey, who offered to be the bully in my place. I may have to talk to her about that. You would think that I knew enough nurses in Farmington, I could find one to really help my mom. I wish that her insurance would still pay for the Home Health Nurse that was coming to clean her foot once a week. She was friendly, and offered to draw blood for mom's labs the day before a doctor visit, and was just so helpful. She called herself a "mosquito" compared to the "vampires" at the clinics.

It isn't really that Mom is getting deficient care. She has been sufficiently cared for when she sees the doctors, and when she has been in the hospital. It is that she is not receiving information up front. She has to find out about available information from other sources, and beg the doctors' offices for it. Free information that could help her understand what is going on with her kidneys, and what it means to be on dialysis for the rest of her life, what is involved with getting a new kidney by transplant. Information that I have come to feel that they should be giving her. She has been frustrated not to receive it until (in some cases after) it was vital to her treatment.

If this was some unknown virus or rare disease, I could see the doctors not sharing information, because they may not know it. In the case of a normal diabetic woman having a normal kidney failure, I am infuriated that they have not told her more, as far back as 10 years ago. She has been in the hospital several times in the past five years or so, and more than once, they feared for her life. They (the hospital staff) didn't recommend to my Dad and Bro that they call me. They (again, the hospital staff) never tried to contact me. Bro usually called, wanting me to know, and knowing that Dad may not need to be the one calling me because he was caring for his wife. At the same time, they (Bro and Dad) always told me not to come yet. I guess they wanted to save me a trip when I could do nothing to improve the situation. That excuse won't last forever.

Flea, I have to tell you, I had nothing personal against the little opossum. He/she was just another thing that ran away from the light. I don't set out to destroy anything. Stuff like spiders, ants, mosquitoes, June bugs and other flying insects or creepy crawlies have to invade my space first, and by doing so, invite Death to the party. Although I would be the first to shoot a squirrel if I could get away with it within City limits. They have put holes in my roof which became holes in my ceiling. I would love to pelt them all (That is funny, pelt. That is what DH and I say about dead things in the road...we call them all pelts. Um... I guess the pun was intended.) with paint balls or pellets. I would have the dogs in the neighboring yards cheering me on.

Instead of Complaining, I need a really big Smooffee.

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

Fall has begun dropping her leaves, and DH leaves me on Friday evenings for his Football radio show. My hopes of a Friday night date are crushed for 12 weeks every fall. This year, he got a raise for this part-time fun gig, and he even gets a week off so that we can go to a wedding. This is year number 11. Yes, he has been doing this since before we got engaged. So, I should probably not complain, as I knew this was coming.

I have a little wooden sign that says "we interrupt this marriage for Football Season!", and it is kinda true. Not only do I have to ignore the fantasy leagues, I have to find things to do on my own once a week. (Yeah, that is so hard, let me tell you. Lots of reading goes on in these 12 weeks.) I remember the guys that were doing this in the beginning announced our engagement the weekend after it happened, and our wedding the next year. The whole state knew we were attached. The on-air talent has changed, and the method of recording reports from guys who were at the games has gone computerized, but the fun is still there. I no longer go with DH (I did go with him the first 2 or 3 years), because this is his thing, and I really belive that he needs a few things that are his alone.

Tonight, I was planning to sit at home and write a post, not unlike this one. Then I got an invitation to be with friends this evening, and I jumped at the chance. I drove to meet them at a restaurant that had been recommended to them, and it was in between our homes.

I don't usually write about my dining experiences. They usually aren't terribly exciting, or excitingly terrible. Tonight, however, was a new low.

I bet my wonderful friends would have paid for me if I hadn't taken it upon myself to tell the waitress we were dutch. I didn't get an argument from them, but I didn't want to assume anything. We all ordered our drinks. When she came back, we ordered our food, and my friends ordered an appetizer to share for the table. The appetizer came. Before our drinks. That, I think, was the highlight of our evening. The appetizer was chips and queso and salsa. The salsa was a thick tomato, with cumin in it. It was hot enough to be interesting, but not painful. Jody called it a spaghetti sauce with cumin; I suppose he wasn't impressed. The cheese was good. The chips were fresh, though quite a few of them were soft and greasy.

The food, once it showed up, was all lukewarm to cold. That was good for Belle, who is two, and needed her screaming hot chicken tenders cooled, but it was kinda queasy for the rest of us. We had to ask three times to get the five extra napkins we got. (notice we had a two year old at the table) Jody sent his food back, because he rightfully expected hot brisket and ribs. I had a burger that was insulated by green chiles, two cheeses and a slightly toasted bun. It was a little more pink than I prefer, but I wasn't going to be trouble for the situation. I try to be congenial, but sometimes the patience is tested.

So the service wasn't that great. The food wasn't great. The whole experience was mediocre. Good friends, good company. All in all, it was a fun trip, and a learning experience. We won't be eating at that location (2nd Street in Edmond) of Steve's Rib again anytime soon. Next time Jody wants BBQ, I am going to insist on Swadley's. Or Earl's Rib Palace.

When I came home, I thought it was a cat that was at the end of my driveway. It was kinda silvery, and it cringed, and ran back up toward the house. Then, I saw it's tail. It was an opossum in my driveway. Poor thing must have thought I was chasing it with my car. It ran all the way up the driveway, and through one of the gates to get into our backyard (or maybe the neighbor's yard, as the gates are side by side). No wonder the dogs in the area go bonkers at random times. There are squirrels, rabbits, and now opossums in my yard, and a fence to keep the dogs out.

I have been busy this week with loafing around. In this case, it would have been better if that meant I was making bread. Nope. Just sitting here, trying not to get sick (drank too much milk this week), and doing as little real work as I can get away with. I have joined Facebook, but I like Blogger better so far. But, hey, I can keep up superficially with so many more people now. I have tracked down a few people from my high school, and I have discovered a few shorter degrees of separation among my friends.

Please pray for my mom. Her doctors are not telling her all she needs to know about her kidney issues. She is pretty irritated with them right now. She will start on dialysis at the beginning of October, and is on a list to get a machine of some sort. I don't know much about it yet, but I am going to learn as much as I can, and hopefully share information she hasn't been given yet.

I wish sometimes that I could win the lottery like Earl on TV... I would pay for Mom and Dad to move wherever she needed to be, most likely closer to me. I would make sure that Dad could retire comfortably, and they could finish traveling to all the states... Mom still has to see Florida and Alaska. And I would bring a lawsuit to end all lawsuits against the doctors who are helping her suffer by not sharing what she needs to know about her condition. I know in my head that it wouldn't help, but in my heart I know that getting them put out of business might actually save lives. I want my Mom out of the small town that doesn't know what to do with her. I want her in a place where I can be the bully she needs on her side...I just want to be close to my family. This living a long day's drive away is really bothering me right now.

Jody's wife Lisa told me she was a Nervous Nancy, and she wasn't going to sleep well tonight, worrying over her family in the path of Hurricane Ike. I have family in his path as well, and I understand her totally. She was a sweetie and walked me to my car (as any good mother/Nervous Nancy would do) after our dinner. I think we were all ready to go home after our unsatisfying meal.

Home is a nice place to be. Even if the animals are trying to take over.

Party All The Time

For those interested in my meager little life, I have been so busy lately. I have hardly had a moment's rest, a bit of peace.

There are some bright spots in the world. This one, for instance.

This was Gum Drop (SIL looking on and balancing him from behind) at his First Birthday Party. He is in his own Chiefs Jersey Onesie (Hi, Sally!), and opening our present to him. He had the best time! He got so much more messy than his sister did at her first party. The party was all Chiefs, and the party cake was a football field, complete with players. His own personal cake was a football.

Pure Joy.


His hair did a flyaway crazy 'do after his chocolate bath. I didn't get a picture of the muddy looking bathwater, mostly because it was too gross. Got to love the kiddos.

The next bright spot is this one.

Jelly Bean is now 3, and her Third Birthday Party was Care Bears. She picked it herself. There were balloons, cake and lemonade, and lots of presents! There were goodie bags that JB gave to her friends, with Baby Gummy Bears in there. So tasty!

This one moves so much and so often, I rarely get a good picture of her. Usually I get only hair as she dashes away. This is JB on her requested Birthday Scooter, wearing her requisite Birthday Helmet (that was our contribution). She did very well on the scooter; I even caught it on video (haven't yet figured out how to post those. I promise some in the future).

There have been a few other things going on in my life, too. There was the wonderful visit from my friend, the Georgia Peach. This is Georgia Peach, Roadrunner, and Chelf. (Pay no attention to the BunnyButt in the background)

Georgia Peach came to see a whole bunch of us Clubbies, and brought her two "nieces" (her BFF's two kids) with her. I have several BFF's with children, and I would be willing to bet that none of them would let me take two of their kiddos on a week-long adventure to another state in a rented car. Not without a lot of explaining, and pictures. Georgia is just that awesome of an "Aunt".

There have been the trips to the local swimming hole. This is Roadrunner's little one, I think I shall refer to him as Mr. Bump. He is calamity and daring all in one.

I didn't get a good picture of the older son by himself. I have to think of a nickname that doesn't violate any copyright laws. (Karate Kid is already taken, and it is Tae Kwon Do anyway) Maybe Roadrunner can help me? (BunnyButt suggested "Sauce", but I don't want the kiddo mad at me, either.)

Then there is the Tea Kettle. This little one is Roadrunner's nephew. He screams in a pitch that no boy should ever be allowed to make. It sounds just like her tea kettle. He likes to snuggle, and get me into trouble by crying when I pick him up.

I am now off to two more Birthday Parties tonight. Tomorrow, there is a Wedding Shower I am helping hostess. This busy life is sometimes almost too much. Almost. Then I look at all the little faces around me, and I know....

So very worth it!

Beware Of Splinters

Word of the Post
Today's word is: dichotomy
/die*cot"o*me/ noun
To cut in two; a division in equal parts; duality; ambivalence.
Knowing the selfish way and the ideal way, but having a balanced argument within yourself to decide which to follow. The brain is comprised of a dichotomy of left and right. Equal and opposite.
The trouble with a dichotomy is that riding the fence is also a decision.
~~~~~~~~~~
I have always known I would have many, many children. They don't have to be physically mine to be "my babies". My plan was to have my own boy and girl, in that order, and then adopt as many as God brought to me. My friend Rob once told me that I was destined to have a girl and then twin boys, for patience. (Cursed sounded more like it back then.) I have since learned that the twin boys did not have to be mine, either. The patience that was built in me may have been for their mother.

Oddly, my dream the other night brought this freshly to mind. The dream was that I had to deal with a specific and unpleasant person from my past. I felt attacked and beaten when I awoke on Sunday. I certainly wasn't prepared to run headlong into a difficult person at church services. (Not the same one I dreamed about, though.)

There are those people who, when given the opportunity to be sweet, will usually choose to be salt in your open wounds. The busybody person who starts every conversation with an offensive question. It makes me wonder why. Does she feel trapped by her responsibilities, and jealous of my freedoms?

Oh, the sarcasm jumps out of me, usually at the worst possible times. It takes a lot of control to keep the words from falling out of me. Every meeting starts with the intrusive "I don't mean to be nosy, but when are you going to have kids?" (If you don't want to be nosy, then please do not finish that thought.), the rude "Don't take this the wrong way, but you need to have children to know about this subject" (Taking those rude statements the wrong way is taking them in what way exactly? How can I take it well to hear that motherhood is some elitist club that refuses to even talk to me?), or my personal favorite "Why didn't you come to Bunco? It wasn't someone in particular, was it? It wasn't me, was it?". (I didn't come to Bunco because it is not the escape I was hoping for. I couldn't escape from you.) I want to scream at her. I can't say these things I think. Too rude, uncalled for. Snappy, but not Christlike.

She now lives in another city. When we see each other, our conversations now consist of the basic "Hi, how are you?". Neither of us cares, and answering "Fine." is the only non-involved, not lying, tactful-without-being-rude answer. Much beyond that, and we are both at a loss for words. I am still without children of my own, and she is still the "perfect" mother of "perfect" twins.

Forgiveness is tough. I know I should forgive her. I don't think she knows how hurtful she really is. I know I should be honest with her, not start with the hateful lashing back that comes to my tongue first. The dichotomy is that I don't want to. I have been hurt, and I still hurt from those wounds. They are fresh, deeply intensely personal, and she continually (while assuming she is helping) is pouring lemon juice on those open emotional sores.

I have "babies" that have graduated college, some were their High School class Valedictorians; are caring and wonderful young adults, and some are still truly babies just beginning the journey; I have seen many styles of parenting; had wonderful conversations with mothers who don't care that I am not a "mother" by the birth of a child, but a "mothering person" by the nature of the love for children. I am a Babysitter of as many as five children at a time, a Teacher to the small, and an Auntie to the two greatest kids to ever live.

Can't I be a pretzel? A little sweet and a little salty. One of my friends told me recently that she had just left church, and was not feeling very Christian right then. She was dealing with a difficult person, too. Those answers are out there, and I continue to look high and low for them. Surprisingly, I bet they are right in front of me. I think I ignore the answer. It is way easier to pretend that everything is OK, when I know it isn't.

The struggle to be true to myself and God's best me is constantly being tested. It may never be my calling to be a mother, like I have so wished for. It may just be that my calling is coming in the future. This must be teaching me patience. Maybe this is for more than myself. It may be that my calling is to be patient with the salty people of the world, that they may learn to be sweet.

Do The Lost Souls Really Congregate In Tulsa?

In the line of deep subjects, I have another that has been eating at my brain for a while. I warn you now, this one is religious. If you don't care, feel free to ignore this post. Seriously. I won't be hurt.

In our Sunday evening services with our church, we have been studying the Deep Subjects of the Bible. The deep questions that people have, and what the Bible says about it all.

I have been to the Tulsa International Soul-Winning Workshop (ISWW) many times over the years. I have gone a few times since I have been on my own, and able to drive myself. I know that good friends of mine have in the past and now live in Tulsa. As it is in Oklahoma, I feel a little more of an attachment to the workshop now that I am an adult. I don't want to make anyone upset. I am just thinking (typing) out loud.

Garnett church of Christ has bowed out of co-managing with Memorial Drive church of Christ. That makes me no never mind, but what is said at the end of this article does bother me. This bit is directly copied, not retyped by me. The quotes are from Terry Rush.

At a session titled “The Future Direction of the Workshop,” Rush also discussed the workshop’s practice of inviting speakers from outside Churches of Christ. The minister stressed that the direction of the workshop is “toward Jesus — not toward the church.”

To that end, workshop coordinators will continue to invite speakers that will inspire attendees to win souls for Christ, he said.

“You are smart enough to sort out the things that are valuable to you and discard the rest,” Rush said.

Now, I am not going to tell you that ONLY the Church of Christ (as a denomination) is going to heaven. I don't believe that. I have discussed those opinions before, and you can look it up, or we can have another conversation about it on email, whatever you like. However, I do believe that drawing people to Christ first requires knowing Christ, and what the speakers believe about Him, and how they will speak.

In order to bring people to Christ, the speakers who are invited to share MUST share the same belief in the Bible. I don't think that the Church of Christ (with or without that first C being capitalized) has the lock on salvation. I believe that the Body of Christ ~ His Bride, His Beloved, His church ~ needs to be told in no uncertain terms what is in His Book. Nothing more. Nothing Less. If we do not check what is said against the measure of the Good News, we are likely to be hoodwinked.

Do the elders of Memorial Drive oversee the lessons that are being presented? They should if they do not.

Yes, Mr. Rush. I am smart enough to "discard the rest", because I have read the Bible from an early age. If you want to bring people to Christ, but you start by presenting conflicting views of the message, you will be sowing the seed in rocky soil, and you will be putting the final nail in the coffin of the Workshop with the remaining attendees. Many have already boycotted the festivities, because they are entertainment more than education, and no longer exclusively Bible based. New Converts may not be studied enough to sort out the junk. It is part of your job to offer only speakers that are proven to be God's mouthpieces. By stating that speakers can come in from other brands of faith, you have joined in the Denominational shell game. Which one is right? You lose when you do not show others how to win.

Separating the saved from the church is impossible. The saved ARE the church. The church is not some name on a door; it is the gathering of family, believers to worship God. Your plan to attract people “toward Jesus — not toward the church” is ludicrous. Those people attracted toward Jesus will be added to the church by God. Not "the Church" as a denomination, but the "THE church" as God's chosen bride for Christ. It isn't your job, Mr. Rush, to decide how the message will be received. Your job, sir, is to tell the message without distortion.

What about the people who have never heard the name of Jesus as anything other than in vain? They don't know how to "discard the rest", and they should not have any of "the rest" to discard. If we are preaching Jesus Christ, and Him Crucified, and Raised from the Dead, then there is nothing left to discard.

I do not claim to know all there is to know about God's plans for me, but going to Tulsa's ISWW is probably not going to be in the works anymore.

Motivation Revisited

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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

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

I am still in Rehab.

This Dream Was Played In Technicolor Brilliance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How was your weekend?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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