Faith to Grace

Life by the numbers

2008-10-22T20:58:00.005-04:00

The idea: use the numbers 0-10, consecutively, to describe your life. If you read this -- tag, you're it!! Have fun.

0: Times I have voted for a Democrat.
1: Number of times Jeff Gordon tried to run over me in the garage area at Atlanta Motor Speedway.
2: Times I've been west of the Mississippi.
3: Schools I've taught at in the past 4 years.
4: Other countries I have been to (Canada, Switzerland, Israel, Egypt)
5: Number of decorative things on the outside of my car: a Minnie Mouse antenna topper; "Cheerwine Fanatic" front tag; WDW "Been there, done that, going back" tag frame; Harbor Docks sticker; our WDW family stickers.
6: Number of different schools I attended from grades 1-12.
7: Mascaras in my makeup box right now
8: Minumum number of hours for me to sleep in order to appear human the next day
9: How old my baby girl will be in four days
10: Truly random songs from my iPod: "When She Loved Me" (Sonya Isaacs, from the CD O Mickey, Where Art Thou); "Arise, My Love" (New Song); "S'Wonderful" (Diana Krall); "Have You Never Been Mellow" (Olivia Newton-John); "If I Fell" (The Beatles); "Yo, Ho, Yo Ho, A Pirate's Life for Me" (Pirates of the Caribbean); "Against the Wind" (Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band); "Those Shoes" (The Eagles); "Waiting for You" (The Bangles); "It's the Same Old Song" (The Four Tops).

And, while I'm at it, check out this recipe for Cheerwine Cake!

Hooked on...

2008-10-16T17:59:00.009-04:00

No, not PHONICS (and, why isn't it spelled "fonix?" hmm.....). Those of us who are fortunate enough to be children of the 80s (YEAH!) might remember the "Hooked On..." song medleys. Hooked on Classics, Hooked on the Beatles. Were there others? I only remember those two. It's just that music has been on my mind a lot lately, specifically music from the late 70s and the 80s. Such formative years for me (yeah, showing my age, er, um, wisdom). Music is a big part of growing up for most of us; doesn't EVERYTHING revolve around the radio when you're a teenager? I mean, I slept with the radio on all night. But when something happens to make you feel young again, at least at heart, it brings back moments and music in floods. My obsession for the moment (at least in my mind, because I don't have it to play in any form) is Hooked on The Beatles. I only remember three songs that were in that: Do You Want to Know a Secret; You Can Drive My Car; You're Gonna Lose That Girl. Good stuff. Great stuff.

You never know how much I really love you
You'll never know how much I really care

Listen, do you want to know a secret
Do you promise not to tell, woh, woh, woh
Closer, let me whisper in your ear
Say the words you long to hear
I'm in love with you, oo

Listen, do you want to know a secret
Do you promise not to tell, woh, woh, woh
Closer, let me whisper in your ear
Say the words you long to hear
I'm in love with you, oo

I've known a secret for a week or two
Nobody know just we two

Listen, do you want to know a secret
Do you promise not to tell, woh, woh, woh
Closer, let me whisper in your ear
Say the words you long to hear
I'm in love with you, oo, oo

Hey, if you have your own memories of "Hooked On..." something...please share!

Chansons D'amour, Part Deux

2008-10-15T21:18:00.011-04:00

OK, I have a few additions to my favorite love songs. The first one, I'll admit - it pains me to credit the artist, but it's a beautiful song. (I'll compensate by spelling her name incorrectly, so there! pbbttt)

Woman in Love (Barbara Streisand)
Can't Help Falling in Love (The King)
The Good Stuff (Kenny Chesney)
Love, Look What You've Done to Me (Boz Scaggs)
Main Street (Bob Seger)
If I Fell (The Beatles)

A couple of random additions: One song that I can listen to for hours on end is Brandy by Looking Glass.

I love to get a good hair band groove going on: Paradise City (Guns 'n Roses); Is This Love (Whitesnake); Pink (Aerosmith; yes, it has stupid lyrics, but I find it compelling); Heaven (Warrant);

My all-time very favorite song is What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong. If you haven't seen this video of Raymond Crowe doing shadow puppets to this beautiful song, you owe it to yourself to take a look.

Um, yeah

2008-10-14T18:20:00.025-04:00

As far as romantic, my choice would probably be this scene and song from "Enchanted." It's beautiful on its own, but I think you appreciate it much more having seen the whole movie. The true impact of it is revealed in the context of the movie.

I'll have to do some thinking on my other contenders for most romantic. Little River Band is a good place to start!

Update: my latest choices for most love-filled/romantic songs (because you can't have just one). No, it's no coincidence that these are from the 70s and 80s. Where ARE the good love songs anymore?

Reminiscing (Little River Band)
Dance with Me (Orleans)
Lady (Kenny Rogers)
You Are So Beautiful (Joe Cocker)
At Last (Etta James)
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face (Roberta Flack version)
Your Song (Elton John)
Baby, Come to Me (James Ingram/Patti Austin)
Almost anything by The Commodores
Always and Forever (Luther Vandross)
El Paso (Marty Robbins)
Lost without Your Love and Baby I'm-a Want You (Bread)
Everything I Own and The Goodbye Girl (David Gates)
Annie's Song (John Denver)
Just Remember I Love You (Firefall)
I Will Always Love You (Dolly Parton)
If Ever I See You Again (Roberta Flack)
Ronnie Milsap (pick one!)
Here, There, and Everywhere; Something (The Beatles)
When A Man Loves A Woman (Percy Sledge)
I Honestly Love You (Olivia Newton-John)

What would you add?;

How Sweet It Is

2008-10-13T19:29:00.007-04:00

Just got a little James Taylor on the mind. I left Carolina, but Carolina didn't leave me, as I've been goin' to Carolina in my mind today. I was thinking again about MY mountains...I can't help but think of them that way.

I love the way the sun dapples through autumn leaves onto the carpeted forest floor. I have always especially loved the mountains at higher elevations where the hardwoods, though varied and beautiful, give way to the evergreens -- firs, cedars, balsams. And underfoot in those damp, dense thickets are inevitably acres of lush fiddlehead ferns. The presence of a few mushrooms makes the perfect setting for a young girl's imagination to run rife with fanciful tales of fairies and gnomes. Those woods have their own fragrance -- that of the evergreens, for certain, but mingled with that is a sweet, damp, muskiness that is found nowhere else. I inhale it deeply and it purifies my spirit. It is the fragrance of new and old, birth and decay, green and brown all in one.

Maybe my fondness for such magical and mysterious environs was the underlying reason that I always so loved "Kubla Khan" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. In high school and college, I wrote many a paper on this dramatic vision. Alas, none of them survive to this day. No matter; my own words would necessarily pale in comparison to Coleridge's. I still thrill to imagine beholding such a scene; would that Coleridge's fantastic dream could be my own.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
a stately pleasure-dome decree,
where Alph, the sacred river, ran
through caverns measureless to man
down to a sunless sea,
so twice five miles of fertile ground
with walls and towers were girdled round.
and there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
where blossom'd many an incense-bearing tree.
And here were forests as ancient as the hills,
enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But O! That deep romantic chasm which slanted,
down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover.
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
as e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
by woman wailing for her demon lover.
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
as if this Earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
a mighty fountain momently was forced,
amid whose swift half-intermitted burst,
huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail,
and 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever,
it flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion,
through wood and dale the sacred river ran.
Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man,
and sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean.
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from afar
ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
floated midway on the waves
Where was heard the mingled measure
from the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device
a sunny pleasure dome with caves of ice.
A damsel with a dulcimer
in a vision once I saw.
It was an Abyssinian maid,
and on her dulcimer she played,
singing of mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
her symphony and song.
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
that with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air!
That sunny dome! Those caves of ice!
and all who heard should see them there!
and all should cry, Beware! Beware!
his flashing eyes! his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
and close your eyes with holy dread!
for he on honey-dew hath fed,
and drunk the milk of Paradise.

Finally...fresh mountain air

2008-10-12T22:50:00.016-04:00

Yes, thank you Lord, for giving me another day on Your earth so I could make it to the mountains. Took a little day trip up SC Scenic Hwy. 11 and then turned up 178 north to Rocky Bottom, where I lived for a couple of years in junior high. I tell ya...you can take the girl out of the mountains but you can't take the mountains out of the girl. It is as beautiful as it was. Our homeplace looked a little neater when we lived there; my dad took great care to keep the wilds from encroaching too much into the yard, but we lived there year-round, and apparently the people who own it now just have it as a part-time retreat. The hickory nuts had fallen in full force, and I walked along the road and gathered them in my sweater like Hansel and Gretel gathering bread crumbs. I'm sure the banged fingers I will have when I try to pry into those things will bring back some memories! Squirrels get into them much more easily than I do, and they don't even have to use a hammer. Drove up to the top of Sassafrass Mountain, the highest peak in SC at just under 3600 feet. There used to be a fire tower there that we would climb to look out over four states, but that was taken down 4 years ago, I am told by a friend. Stood at the top and looked out as best as I could, standing on a rock, but the trees at the top obscure the view. Still...it was beautiful, tranquil, fresh, and satisfying. Had a few nibbles of sassafras leaves; that bitter, lemony taste is quite refreshing.

Now that I'm back home, I wish I could recapture the feelings of being there. Thinking about it in retrospect and living it at the moment are not the same. When I drive a bit north of Atlanta and get even a glimpse of the tips of the mountains just out of my reach, my breath catches involuntarily. There is something deep within my DNA, something primal, that resonates in perfect pitch when I am in the mountains. I spent much of my youth in the Appalachians, Great Smokies and Blue Ridge Mountains backpacking and camping with my mother and father. For my 10th birthday, they got me a charm bracelet with a charm for each of the mountains I had climbed to the top: Mt. LeConte, Clingman's Dome, Andrew's Bald, Devil's Courthouse, and several others. I loved hiking to the "bald" mountains. These are mountaintop areas that had forestation destroyed (usually by fire) at some point, but are maintained clear of trees by the forest service. Low-level shrubbery abounds here, so in the late spring and early summer these usually rocky, meadow-like grassy areas are ablaze in a thousand colors of azalea, rhododendron, mountain laurel, and other flowering beauties including trillium and lady's slippers. My father was a master at telling the temperature by how curled up the rhododendron leaves were. It is breathtaking to hike for a couple of hours through forests of firs and balsams and emerge into a clearing at the top of a mountain and look over hundreds of miles of carpeted valleys and hills all around. Of course, when it comes to pitching a tent for the night, you head back down into the cover of the trees; the winds can be fierce at the top of those mountains if there's nothing to break it.

I did not grow up in a church building, but I grew up steeped in and praising God's creation. I saw all manner of wildlife, flowers, insects, and birds and observed the way they lived and interacted. I learned the names of all the trees. My parents invested in a few small field guides that would fit into my day pack, so I spent a lot of time with a book in one hand and a plant or insect in the other. I loved when our hike led us alongside a river. I could play for hours in the edge of the water, marveling at the perfectly smoothed surface of rocks and pebbles, wondering where they began their journey and how long they had lain in the cold water alongside trout and crayfish. My daughter, bless her sweet little heart, is a rock hound like her mom. She loves rocks of all sorts, and I have to fish them out of her pockets on laundry day as if she were a little boy.

I had forgotten what challenges I faced and overcame during those hiking trips. Crossing roaring rapids on trees that had fallen, or been felled, across the river -- scary!! Some places the trail was very narrow and the mountainside below was very steep and treacherous; I remember balking sometimes, thinking I couldn't make it. But my dad always said I could do it, and I always did. When he had to help me, he grasped my wrist and told me to grab his wrist; we had a much more secure grip on one another that way than by simply holding hands.

And, even today...while my earthly father believes in me, I know my Heavenly Father believes in me so much more and holds onto me more tightly through the tough spots. As I lean into Him and trust Him when He says, "Hold on and follow Me," I know the view at the top will be spectacular.

"My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth." -- Psalm 121:2

Autumn in the air

2008-10-11T13:32:00.004-04:00

So many people think spring is the season of love. For me, it is autumn. It's the perfect time to be with someone special.
I dug out a James Ingram today before I hit the road for some errands. Good, good stuff. Soul touching. Amazing what music can bring out in you.
Speaking of music, I came home with new Keith Urban and Allison Krauss CDs today. Can't wait to pop the plastic on those, but I promised myself Carole King while I clean house.
For what it's worth, I feel like my soul will suffocate if I don't see mountains NOW. Maybe I can wait until tomorrow. But the mountains -- that's where my spirit sings and the depths of my being are touched like no other. How did I end up living two hours away from my heartland?

Tonight....Let it be Lowenbrau

2008-10-10T22:05:00.011-04:00

Didn't you just love that jingle? I don't drink beer, never have, and certainly the beer drinkers I know don't drink Lowenbrau. But I remember it from the 80s, that earthy voice singing,

Here's to good friends,

Tonight is kind of special.

The beer we'll pour

must say something more, somehow.

So tonight (tonight),

Tonight,

Let it be Löwenbräu (let it be Löwenbräu).

It's been so long.

Hey, I'm glad to see ya.

Raise your glass.

Here's to health and happiness.

So tonight (tonight),

Let it be all the best.

I had been thinking that I need to make a list of the ones I've seen, for myself. It's getting to the point where I can't remember them all, so I'm sure I'll have to pop back in and add to this later. The first one is listed here only for the sake of honesty. The music definitely improves after that.

Ozzie Osbourne
Heart
Bryan Adams
Reba McEntire
Rod Stewart (twice)
Elton John (twice)
Paul McCartney (twice)
Aerosmith
The Eagles
Earl Klugh (not a typical concert, but definitely worthy of a mention)
Kenny Chesney (twice, including Keith Urban)
Alabama
Van Halen
Eric Clapton
Barry Manilow
Boston
The Bangles
KISS
Bruce Springsteen
Robert Plant & Jimmy Page
Mercy Me & Michael W. Smith
Steven Curtis Chapman
Billy Joel
Billy Joel AND Elton John, together
Jimmy Buffett
Stevie Nicks
Huey Lewis (free tickets; no, I would not have paid)

Some other notable events that weren't concerts

Martina Navratilova vs. Chris Evert in a tennis match (I've never cared for tennis but did want to take advantage of that opportunity -- it was not a disappointment)
The Boston Celtics with Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, Danny Ainge, et al in 1989
Being kissed by Richard Petty at an autograph signing event

Election Day 2008 & Other Miscellaneous Neuron-to-Dendrite Connections

2008-10-10T17:43:00.016-04:00

Well, I guess I can go back to McDonald's now. We haven't eaten there since when, May? Wasn't really that much of a loss, honestly. The biggest way it affected us was on Sunday mornings, since we always at there just before church. We just exchanged it for Mrs. Winner's instead, but McD's is more convenient, so I guess our normal Sunday-morning routine can be re-established.

I went to vote today. Thought I was being brilliant, getting it out of the way early so I wouldn't have to a) stand in a long line on November 4th, or 2) get up too early to avoid standing in a long line on November 4th. I pulled into the parking lot at our county elections office and was stunned. There must have been 150 people in line in the parking lot! Amazing. I really didn't feel like staying, being sicky and all, but I did. I thought about the brave men throughout history who have given everything for this country, and I realized yes, I CAN stand out here for as long as it takes. From out of the car to back into the car was about an hour, so it wasn't horrible. That's probably the longest I've ever waited, though, so it was a good time for people watching. I find it fascinating to study people in election lines and see if I can figure out who they're voting for. Of course, this year it may be easier to break them into groups just by looking, but I'm sure there are some who would fool me either way. I saw Sonny of Sonny's Service Center. No, I don't now him, but he had his name on his coveralls. I feel pretty certain that a man who owns his own small business sees a lot of issues the same way I do.

And I have to admit I felt pretty good about things standing out there today. Come the evening of November 4th (or shortly thereafter, Lord willing), one group is going to be very happy and the other group is going to be very distraught. But, you know what? I have seen pictures and videos of "elections" in other countries where blood is spilled when people vote. There are nations that don't have the privilege of choosing a leader. There are cultures where a woman couldn't drive somewhere to vote. So, in light of all those things, I felt pretty good about it all. Our system isn't perfect and isn't necessarily beautiful, but it's ours and I'm proud to be an American.

OK, having waxed patriotic...I have to wonder -- why is it that the myriad unavoidable reports of voter registration fraud that I read are always associated with Democrats and liberals? Seriously. That is frustrating to me. This ACORN stuff is getting crazy.

And I guess the economic crunch is hitting everywhere. I stopped at Sears today to buy some new jeans for my girlie. I guess two years' worth of wear out of her last ones isn't bad. Anyway, the mall was practically deserted and there was ONE cash register staffed on the whole upper level. There were a few workers out on the floor, but I was in line for ten minutes before one felt compelled to come help us out.

Anyway, that experience led me, in a very circuitous manner, to think about a flair button on my Facebook account. It says, "SARCASM: The body's natural defense against stupid." Yes, I know, I'm Christian and lovey and tolerant of people's faults, but that doesn't mean people don't still say stupid things that make my teeth bleed. I bought three pairs of jeans and (gasp!) wrote a check. Of course I had to pull out my driver's license. The cashier looked at it for a minute, then asked, "Is this your ID?" I just stood there, looked at her, and smiled what was probably a ridiculously goofy grin as I contemplated...."No, I saw a woman in the parking lot who looked just like me, and I thought it would be a good idea to use her ID instead of mine, so I hit her over the head with a tire iron, swiped her ID out of her bag, and am using it to present a check that, oddly enough, also has her name on it." The next candidate for a response was, "Pretty good for PhotoShop & Contact paper, don't you think?" Instead, I corralled my decorum and replied a hum-drum, "Yes." And that was that. Here's your sign...

What else...oh, THANKS A LOT to a friend who got me hyped up to see "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and I realize there's not a copy to be had within a country mile of here. No, I don't know why I hadn't bought it already, but it's nary to be purchased or rented anywhere that I checked today, so I sit at home in a frustrated funk. It's okay, I still love ya, bud. :-)

"We thought you was a toad!"

Let's talk out of both sides of our mouth, shall we?

2008-08-01T20:25:00.009-04:00

Ask anyone who halfway knows me, and they'll say that it's rare that I find it difficult to express myself. Yeah, I over-express myself sometimes. Sorry, my perfection gene failed somewhere along the line (I think it happened in a garden somewhere....). Yet, I keep hearing something that just drives the bile right up into my throat every time, and the word(s) to express my feelings elude me. Some words that have potential: Anger. Frustration. Disbelief. Outrage. Disgust. Bemusement.

So, what are the magic words that affect me so? Many wouldn't be surprised to hear that they are uttered by Barack Obama, but what might be surprising is that the words that rile me are the ones where he talks about Americans needing to come together: African Americans, Caucasians, Hispanics, Native Americans, Straight People, Gay People, etc. And the loony left crowd goes wild in the background, en masse in support of his loony pandering. First of all, he doesn't say WHAT we should come together over (thanks to Michael Medved for pointing that out). But what REALLY gets me is that Barack Hussein Obama and his myriad minions and myrmidons don't realize how very, insanely, incredibly hypocritical they are. Here, one touts and many show support for "coming together as Americans." Yet, this is the very group of people who want people grouped and labeled according to various characteristics WHEN IT IS CONVENIENT. Oh, let me talk about us all needing to come together for something (because it makes a lot of people clap, and that will make the news), but sometimes it's convenient for us to group Native Americans together (and let's throw in African-Americans for good measure, even though they're not relevant to the question), as in when we engage in that ever-so-critical dialogue about reparations. It's fine to separate American citizens into groups when it concerns hate crimes legislation aimed at protecting the "rights" of gays and lesbians, as opposed to the "rights" of people in general. It's fine to separate American citizens into groups when trying to get the "evil rich" to pay more of "their fair share" of taxes so that people who underperform (once referred to as those who didn't win life's lottery) can pay less.

I am totally stymied as to how the loony left Obama supporters can be so totally clueless about how totally hypocritical they are.

Barack Obama: Passing the Hope Bong

2008-07-29T10:35:00.006-04:00

Boy, I just wish I had thought of that. I don't know who this guy is on Larry King Live, but he has the greatest line, talking about Obama "passing his hope bong around the drum circle of young America." I don't know what those people ARE smoking, but aren't deep-breathing anything that gives them ecstasy-filled highs of common sense, that's for sure.

I don't think anyone should be allowed to vote until 1) they OWN their own home; 2) they have earned at least $150,000 (cumulatively, not in a year -- don't whine, if you have a brain and/or skills it won't take long), and/or 3) have passed a basic math proficiency and logic test.

Here is a trailer for the movie "Hype: The Obama Effect."

Things I like a lot/adore/love

2008-07-28T20:38:00.044-04:00

My church
My Savior, who loves me "even though. . ."
Senator Tom Coburn from Oklahoma
Macaroni Grill, Houston's, Brusters, The Varsity
Cheerwine
Walt Disney World with my family

Being a household free of credit cards and their associated stress
Naps
Smiles, hugs, kisses, giggles, silly jokes from my beautiful girl
Not having a baby in the house
Makeup
philosophy's "Grace" fragrances
Iced tea (yes, sweet; there is no other kind)
These browned-butter cookies, ridiculously time-consuming as they are
The sand and beautiful water at Destin, Florida
Sentimentality
When DH has three payday Fridays in a month (yay, August!)
Laughing until I cry
DD's picture with Santa every year

Hope
Psalm 121
Finding my daughter's little treasures around the house when she's gone (visiting Poppa!)
A faithful husband
Freshly laundered sheets
Watching Road Runner cartoons on YouTube
A new box of crayons (Crayola only, please)
The first Christmas card of the season
Curling up with a good (or great) book
Stimulating talk radio
A new haircut
Fresh, crisp mountain air
Fall
Winter
Spring
Hot chocolate with marshmallows
Breaking out in 80s songs with vague references, much to the dismay of my hubby
Looking at old family photos
Celebrating my mother's victory over breast cancer each October (14 years this year!)
Cold, clear mountain streams
Catching a fiesty native rainbow trout (and putting him back)
Christmas stockings

Things that get on my nerves

2008-07-28T18:46:00.030-04:00

Spiders that build webs on my kitchen window 24 hours after I washed it.
Spiders, period.
Congress using tax dollars to bail out people who made bad decisions.
People who haven't read the owner's manual to their car to find out how to use a turn signal.
Bumper stickers with profanity or crude messages.
Billboards that advertise unsavory "businesses" along interstates
Buying groceries for people who are most likely here illegally, with three small children and one on the way.
People who think I want to hear their lousy excuse for music from four cars away.
Not being acknowledged or thanked by a check-out clerk.
Cell phones in restaurants, waiting rooms, movie theaters, and bathrooms.
Summer in Atlanta.
People who save places in long lines for other people who weren't already there.
Talking in movie theaters.
Litter.
Cigarettes.
Cigarette smoke.
Liberal (il)logic.
Bad spelling.

Bad grammar.
Bad punctuation.
Texting lingo.
People who can't, like, put together, like, a quasi-sensible sentence without, like, using the word "like", like, in multiples of five.
Coffee breath.
Men in tank tops in public.
Out-there underwear.
E-mails from perfect strangers who think I'm dumb enough to fall for their scams.
The IRS.
Moral relativism.
Having a taste for something that's not as good as I expect it to be.
Calling anyplace and getting an automatic voice system where English is an OPTION.

You go, girl...

2008-07-25T13:51:00.002-04:00

Last night at dinner, the conversation turned (as it often does) to politics and current events. My 8-year-old daughter can pretty well hold her own in these conversations. She can contribute comments and ask some good questions. I don't remember what she said, but it prompted my husband to ask her, "I told you to never apologize for being three things -- what were they?" Quick as a wink, she named them: "Never apologize for being Christian, Republican, or southern." My heroine. :-)

What was that again?

2008-07-25T11:23:00.002-04:00

Apologies in advance: I can't figure out how to download these videos to my hard drive so that I can then upload them and embed them here. You'll have to clicky!!

Do you remember those puzzles you did as a child, where there were two pictures side by side that, at first glance, looked alike? Your job was to look at them carefully to determine the subtle differences between them. I have another one for you, but this time in video form.

The news of Obama's saying that, after months of proven success and gains in Iraq, he STILL would not support the surge is old at this point. I heard the digs on the talk shows about how he muttered and stammered through his response (not really an answer), but I didn't hear the audio clip of the interview itself (with ABC's Terry Moran). When I got home and looked at the video on the ABC site, I thought, well, it's a stupid answer, but it's basically intelligible. Check it out for yourself:

http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=5421347

My husband was sitting beside me on the sofa and was eager for me to hear Obama's answer. After it played, he was indignant: "That is NOT the same as what the radio talk shows were playing all day!" We searched and finally found an unedited version on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBO5s8NUOxw&feature=related

Hmmm. Very different!! Is that merely editing that would normally be done to ready a video clip for the website of a major news corporation, or is it further evidence that the media wants to suck Obama's toes? I have my opinion...

Toto, we're not in Disney World anymore

2008-07-15T13:12:00.010-04:00

Eight trips to Walt Disney World in five years...and yesterday we went to Six Flags over Georgia. What were we thinking?? Well, DD and I got free tickets from school, so we only had to pay for one ticket, gas, and food (which is as expensive as WDW and not nearly as good). Now, we live less than an hour from Six Flags and seriously NEVER go. DH and I went about 5 years ago, just the two of us. I sat and waited for him to ride roller coasters most of the day. I don't do roller coasters. Well, I didn't....

I do have to say that Disney World has both spoiled me and done me a favor. The favor first...I have always been scared -- no, terrified -- of heights, and roller coasters were never in the picture for me. I had no desire at all to ever get on one, even "small" ones. When DH and I first took DD to Disney World, she was not quite 3, so there was very little that she could ride -- we spent most of our time in Fantasyland. But DD and I also waited for DH to ride Space Mountain. He offered to keep DD while I rode. NO WAY. I WILL NOT RIDE A ROLLER COASTER, especially not one in the dark.

The next year when we went, DH wanted us to ride Splash Mountain. He told me how much I'd love it, given that I have an old Uncle Remus book and grew up reading the stories since I was little. We read them to DD and we knew all the characters It sounded good...we walked up and I saw that 45-degree, 50-foot drop and NO, NO, NO I AM NOT GETTING ON THAT!! For heaven's sake, people are screaming going down that thing. NO!!

He finally talked me into it by reasoning that the ride is many minutes long with a beautiful story and the drop is over in a few seconds. I became convinced that I would love the ride. Long story short, yes, it is a BEAUTIFUL ride, and it was very meaningful to us. The first little drop spooked me. The second one scared me. When we started going up the hill for the big drop, I started screaming, wanted desperately to climb out. I yelled at him, "I'm going to beat the S*** out of you when we get off this thing!" Needless to say, he was laughing. Which didn't help. I was terrified out of my mind. We splashed down, got wet. I was okay -- ALIVE, BREATHING, CONSCIOUS, NOTHING WAS BROKEN. I said I would never get on THAT THING again. Let's see....in 7 visits since, I've ridden it probably 50+ times.

Over the course of much conniving and cajoling, I have by this time ridden -- and grown to love -- every ride at both Walt Disney World and Disneyland, including Tower of Terror, California Screaming, and my all-time favorites Expedition Everest and the much-too-short Rock 'n Roller Coaster. A friend of mine on a Disney message board convinced me: Disney will never hurt me! Lessons learned from that have carried forward so that I was able to ride the Scream Machine, Ninja, and Mindbender at Six Flags. The verdict? Scream Machine: not too scary, way too rough, jerky, and bumpy. HATED IT and couldn't wait to get off. Ninja: Smoother ride, but jerked my head from side to side into the not-very-well-padded headrest. My ears hurt. Nope, not for me. Mindbender: there we go! Smooth, easy, not too high, just right. Loved it!!

So, that is the favor that Disney World has done me in regard to simple amusement parks -- enabled me to enjoy them as more of a participant and less of an observer.

Part II, How Disney Has Spoiled Me, will come later.

Gimme some money...Gimme a break!!

2008-07-09T13:11:00.013-04:00

Did two things today that cost more than they should: put gas in the car and bought groceries. My DHA-enriched, organic milk is now $4.50 a half gallon, but it may soon be cheaper to fill the car with milk than with gas. Looked longingly at the Blue Bell ice cream for more than $6 a carton. Could have gotten it but I couldn't make myself pick it up. I'm sure I'll be back for it later in the week, but I just couldn't do it today. Picked up a few things and begrudgingly forked over my debit card for $146 worth of not much, sighed, and headed out.

But what was awaiting me when I exited the store? A young man, probably 12 or so, asking for a "donation" because he was trying to raise money for a trip to Disney World. He asked the wrong person, because my immediate reaction was, "Get in line! So are we." I just told him I didn't have any cash. Then, when I got in the car, I had to tell my 8-year-old, "You know, I told him the first thing that came to my mind. I should have thought of something else to say, because I DID have cash. That was not a cause for me to lie, even though I wasn't going to give him anything."

Then, true conservative that she is, she quips,"He needs to get a job and earn his own money, and not try to take ours that you and Daddy work for!" At first I was both proud and amused, and we talked about that a bit. Then, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. First of all, who dumps a kid at a store to ask for handouts? And then, what happened to trying to EARN money to go somewhere? This may have been a good and legitimate cause -- he didn't offer and I didn't ask -- perhaps a band trip. But I just got myself worked up because some adult in his life thought it would be a good idea for him to stand in public and ask for handouts. What happened to offering to cut the grass, or wash a car, sweep the driveway, or perform any other odd jobs? How can it be beneath someone to do a menial chore for pay but not to ask total strangers for money???

This is just a symptom of the "gimme" mentality that is rotting our nation, contributing to class envy, and encouraging the government to be the nanny for everyone. My family is solidly middle class but we fall into the "evil rich" category according to the socialist liberals. No wonder they're angry; I don't want to give them what I've worked for. I want them to work for their own. If they could channel all their energy from being angry to being productive, they'd have more to show for it, including a sense of pride and responsibility. But that's too hard. Why work when you can stand in the shade with a cold drink and put your hand out? I'll tell you why: Because it's the right thing to do.

Butt Scratching and Bass Fishing

2008-07-03T23:52:00.005-04:00

OK, I can honestly say I have NEVER gone to any website and typed "butt" in the search box!! But I was listening to one of my heroes, Dave Ramsey, today as he talked about this essay on his website. I was intrigued, to say the least. I am reproducing it in its entirety here. It can be found on his website here if you are interested in seeing it from its source. I, too, am sick of the whining that people who work hard need to subsidize the lifestyle choices and mistakes of others (mortgage assistance, anyone?). I have so much to say but it's late, so I'll just let Dave say it fabulously.

Butt Scratching and Bass Fishing
by Dave Ramsey

A couple of weeks ago, I worked late like I sometimes need to do to run my business. It was a nice Tennessee summer evening, and I was enjoying the drive home. About 7:30, as I pulled to a stop light a few blocks from my office, I noticed a light on in the corner office of a friend’s office building. Through the twilight I could make out my friend’s silhouette as he bent over his desk. Being a fellow entrepreneur, I knew what he was doing. He was pouring over some receivables. Some turkey hadn’t paid him, and he was trying to make his accounts balance so he would have the cash to make it another day. In that instant, I had a flashback to some of the ridiculous statements I’ve been hearing on the talking-head news channels and from some individuals during this political year. And I’ll be honest—I instantly felt the heat of anger flow
through my body.

Let me tell you why. You see, my friend who I saw working late—we’ll call him Henry—is a great guy. He’s what you want your son to grow up to be. He loves God, his country, his wife, and his kids. He didn’t have the academic advantage of attending a big-name university. Instead, he started installing heating and air systems as a grunt laborer after he graduated from high school. He was and is a very hard and diligent worker, and before long, the boss taught him the trade. But when he was 24, after 6 years of service, the company he was working for got into financial trouble and laid him off.

Henry still had his tools, so he bought an old pickup to haul around his materials and tools, and suddenly he was in business. He knew about heating and air-conditioning, but not about business, so he made a lot of mistakes. He persisted. He took accounting and management at the community college to learn about business. He started reading books on business, HVAC, marriage, kids, God, and anything else someone he respected recommended. Today he is one of the best-read men I know. Soon, because of his fabulous service and fair prices, he developed a great reputation, and his little business began to grow. Henry started 15 years ago, and now he has 17 employees whose families are fed because he does a great job. He is in church on Sunday and seldom misses his kids’ Little League games. Sometimes he has to miss a game because some poor soul has their AC go out in the 96-degree Tennessee summer heat, but Henry makes sure they are served. He is, by all standards, a good man. He is, by all standards, what makes America great.

Henry and I are friends, and so he asked me some financial questions last year. I learned in the process that his personal taxable income last year was $328,000. I smiled with pride for this 70-hour a week guy because he is living the dream.

At the stop light that evening, I also thought of another guy I know—and that is where the anger flash came from. We will call him John. While John does not have the same drive Henry has, I can say that he, too, is a good man.

John also graduated from high school and did not attend a big-name university. He went to work at a local factory 15 years ago. When 5:00pm comes around, John has probably already made it to his car in the parking lot. He comes in 5 minutes late, takes frequent breaks, and leaves 5 minutes early. However, to his credit, he is steady and works hard. Over the years, due to his steadiness and seniority, he has worked his way up to about $75,000 per year in that same factory. He seldom misses his kid’s ballgames, but most nights you will find him in front of the TV where he has become an expert on “American Idol,” “The Biggest Loser,” and who got thrown off the island. When he is not in front of the TV, he spends a LOT of time and money bass fishing on our local lake. He never works over 40 hours a week and hasn’t read a non-fiction book since high school. This is America, and there is nothing wrong with either set of choices.

Nothing wrong, that is, until the politicians and socialists get involved.

I have seen several elitist people on the talking-head channels make the statement lately that people making over $250,000 per year have a “moral imperative” to pay more in taxes to take care of the country’s problems. This is not only infuriating—it is economically, spiritually, and morally crazy!

Where in the world do these twits get off saying that Henry should be punished for his diligence? If you are John, where do you get off trying to take Henry’s hard-earned money away from him in the name of your misguided “fairness”? If you want to sit on the lake, drink beer, scratch your butt, and bass fish, that is perfectly fine with me. I am not against any of those activities and have engaged in some of them myself at one time or another. But you HAVE NO RIGHT to talk about “moral imperatives” about what other people have earned due to their diligence. That money is not yours! You want some money? Go earn some! Get up, leave the cave, kill something, and drag it home.

We are in a dangerous place in our country today. A segment of our population has decided that it is the government’s job to provide all of their protection, provision, and prosperity. This segment has figured out that government doesn’t have the money to give them everything they want, so somebody else has to pay for it. That is how the “politics of envy” was born. “Tax the rich” has become the mantra of the left, and this political season it has been falsely dubbed a “moral imperative.”

Ninety percent of America’s millionaires are first-generation rich. They are Henry. To tax them because you think it is a “moral imperative” is legalizing governmental theft from our brightest, most charitable, and most productive citizens.

If I can get a law passed that says you must surrender all your cars to the government because it is the “moral imperative” of anyone who owns cars to support the latest governmental program, that would be a violation of private property rights and simply morally wrong. This new “moral imperative” to redistribute wealth is no different from that. It’s the SAME THING!
Please, America, re-think the politics of envy! You are sowing the seeds of our destruction when you punish the Henrys of our culture.

If you think taxing the populace to support government programs is the best way—and I don’t—then at least tax every single person the same! There are very few Henrys out here who would squawk much about paying a set percentage of their income—if everyone else did, too. But this idea of some buttscratching bass fisherman saying government should tax his neighbor and not him—just because his neighbor has succeeded—must stop.

So the next time an elitist media talking-head starts telling you it is the moral imperative of our culture to tax my friend Henry, change the channel.

The next time you see someone wealthy who feels guilty and is preaching the politics of envy, change the channel.

The next time you see some celebrity who feels guilt over their income preaching socialism, change the channel.

And the next time you run into a misguided, butt-scratching bass fisherman who says the evil rich people in our culture should have their private property confiscated because that is fair… well just shake your head walk away—and make sure to vote against his candidate. If he and his type win, God help America.

© The Lampo Group, Inc. all rights reserved.

Expelled: Common Sense and Courtesy Get the Boot

2008-04-26T22:16:00.005-04:00

Several months ago I somehow learned about Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. I was intrigued by the project and signed up for e-mail updates. I’ve been following the development and progress of this work ever since, and was so excited to get to see it this weekend. I don’t know much about Ben Stein, only that he’s quirky, so his involvement in it intrigued me even more. The documentary exposes how big science (primarily in the halls of academe) has suppressed the dialogue and inquiry that is so central to its very core by basically blackballing a great many very well-credentialed scientists who dare whisper the concept of intelligent design (ID).

CNS News review states:

"Expelled" calls attention to the plight of highly credentialed scholars who have been forced out of prestigious academic positions because they proposed Intelligent Design as a possible alternative to Charles Darwin's 150-year-old theories about the origins of life.

Instead of entertaining a debate on the merits of competing theories, the scientific establishment has moved to suppress the ID movement in a "systematic and ruthless" way at odds with America's founding principles, the film asserts.

Many are quick to dismiss ID as the delusion of religious fundamentalists, but a great many of the most well-known and well-credentialed scientists who espouse ID do so not because they believe in the Genesis account of creation by God but because they see the terrible failings of the Darwinian theory of evolution. Expelled blows the whistle on their literal expulsion from jobs, careers, funding, even from realms of credibility and respect.

My question is: What are the evolutionists afraid of? They won’t admit that evolution isn’t something that can be proven, but the fact that it can’t be proven (via the hallowed and requisite methods of scientific theory) is so obvious as to be trifling. The issue seems to boil down to more than trying to uphold an outdated “theory” – it truly seems as though the evolutionary scientists are bent on disallowing any room for an inkling of a concept of a Creator (i.e., God). When you have the renowned Richard Dawkins stating that the origin of life could have been designed/orchestrated by a higher being, but not from this planet, it seems pretty obvious that the argument is against God the creator and not the “fallacy” of ID outright. And another prominent scientist repeatedly explains the origins of life as developing as molecules mutating on the backs of crystals and is astounded that Ben Stein can’t grasp that as plausible. Science fiction, anyone?

Again, what are they afraid of? If they’re so sure that their THEORY is the correct one, why do they go to such great pains to kick out and discredit people who should rightly pose no threat? My answer? They know their days are numbered. When Darwin was alive, cells were thought to be primitive, merely a simple building block of something more complex, much as simple letters are the building blocks of the complex structures of words. But the technological advances in electron microscopy have given us an incredible view and understanding of the astonishing complexity of cells. (By the way, the film’s animation sequence of the inner workings of the cell is worth the price of admission.) This understanding has led to the concept of “irreducible complexity” to describe a unit so complex in its intricacies and the interrelatedness of its parts that to take away one of its parts would render the entire unit useless. But Darwinian evolution (macroevolution) requires just that: parts of a cell or organism to develop independently of one another, based on favorable circumstances, until a workable unit is created. (See http://answersingenesis.org/video/ondemand/ -- search for “The Seeing Eye” in video clips.)

The evolutionary scientists are quiet about the many holes in the theory of evolution, including the lack of observable scientific evidence and causation. Among other difficulties, Darwin acknowledges: “The abrupt manner in which whole groups of species suddenly appear in certain formations has been urged by several paleontologists . . . as a fatal objection to the belief in the transmutation of species. . . There is another and allied difficulty, which is much more serious. I allude to the manner in which species belonging to several of the main divisions of the animal kingdom suddenly appear in the lowest known fossiliferous rocks. . . . The case at present must remain inexplicable; and may be truly urged as a valid argument against the [evolutionary] views here entertained.” No observable cause and effect; no means to observe, replicate, or measure the process; no transitional forms; no new species.

In a nutshell, atheists have to believe in something when it comes to the origins of life. By default, it can’t be God, so anything that is NOT God will do. I do not have the faith required to believe that life originated from nothing. Lightning in a swamp? Are you kidding me? Because of a massive jolt of electricity, amino acids suddenly arranged themselves into 250 complex proteins that then randomly ordered themselves in a such a way as to become ALIVE? And what on earth in nature (which evolutionists find to be revered rather than its Creator) actually INCREASES in complexity in order over time if it is not directed? Nothing! Non-directed events result in chaos and decay, not order and growth, which is what Darwinian evolution requires. Why is it so far-fetched to believe that anything that exists in order must have order in its origin? Did these words miraculously appear on this page? Aliens, crystals, primordial ooze … apparently many people find these things preferable to believing that something with a mind of order and purpose designed life as we know it with order and purpose. After all, belief in that pretty much requires belief in God, and belief in God requires us to change ourselves. They rail against “religion” yet fail to see that they put their whole FAITH in Darwinism – THAT is the opiate of those masses. Yet, these same people profess to believe in freedom of thought and speech and academic pursuits? Common sense has, indeed, been expelled.

Frightening links from Darwinian theory to Margaret Sanger and Planned Parenthood and Hitler and ethnic "cleansing" are poignant and well documented and attributed.

One additional note that doesn’t fit in anywhere else but I feel compelled to share. Stein visited a museum of Darwin and a few long seconds were spent on a shot of a statue of Darwin. I couldn’t help but think that he looks sad, even in marble – almost as though he realizes now that he was wrong, but it’s too late for him now.

People who say it better than I:

http://www.icr.org/home/resources/resources_tracts_scientificcaseagainstevolution/

http://www.icr.org/article/559

http://www.icr.org/article/859/

I have resigned myself to this

2008-02-18T19:55:00.003-05:00

Or, "Why $18 Mascara is a Bargain." Some of you know that I am a mascara fiend. I have nice blue eyes to draw your attention, and very forgettable lashes to make that attention wander straight to the closest box of detergent, for no other reason than the detergent may be more memorable than my lashes. This has been a battle all my life. My very favorite mascara EVER was Lancome's Stylocils, with a ridiculously tiny brush in a ridiculously small barrel that made my lashes as long and happy as they have ever been. Last year I discovered Maxi-Frange by Bourjois and grew to love it immensely. Well, that's a lie -- it had me at "Goodbye, $18." Funny, because I've never been a fan of primers. I've never found one that really did what I thought it should do (as in, deliver what it promises). But the primer on Maxi-Frange worked really well -- lengthened and volumized without clumping, and, what's this? A sassy little upturn on the end, without the benefit of a pinched eyelid? Yes, it gave my lashes a little curl! Well, I used it to the end and just couldn't bring myself to buy another tube of it. I don't know why. I work. But I just didn't like the idea of it, I suppose.

But now the ugly truth comes out. Since this past fall, I have bought probably no fewer than TEN new mascaras, all costing around $8-10. Some of them didn't get used more than once before they got tossed. Yes, I know you can return some cosmetics at some stores, but honestly, as often as I would be returning mascara, they'd have me on the blacklist before you could say "smudge." So, let's do some math here. Let's say that those mascaras cost $9 each, for average's sake, times 10 purchases (probably conservative). Hmmmm. Do you see, now, why $18 spent every six months is actually SAVING money, in this case?

I splurged -- wait, no, I SAVED!! Right? I SAVED today on a tube of Bourjois Coup de Theatre mascara that I hope I will love as much as the Maxi-Frange. (The Maxi-Frange is designed more for volume, the Coup de Theatre focuses on length, which is my main concern.)

But if I must be known for something, I am not vain enough to want it to be my lashes. I would want it to be for this: "Then your fame went forth among the nations on account of your beauty, for it was perfect because of My splendor which I bestowed on you," declares the Lord GOD. -- Ezekiel 16:14

Captured by the King

2008-01-29T19:46:00.000-05:00

People who are not professing Christians often dismiss God as a cosmic chess player. They think – or at least they think that WE think – He sits up in the sky, looking down over us, moving us here and there to suit His whim. We acknowledge, admit, welcome, and invite His divine intervention, for certain. But we never feel like His pawns. A God who can create space and time in a breath, who can create a miraculously unique human being from two tiny cells, does not need us in order to carry out His design for history. We are here because He longs for our company. What of the angels? He has legions of angels to keep Him company. But, oh! They are not made in His image, as we are. He called us forth and He has a plan for us. Oh, wow, does He have a plan for us! But He knows that forced love, forced lives, neither satisfy the one who loves nor glorify neither the one who is loved. He gave us a choice, gives us a choice every day, every moment, every thought. I think of God in no way like a cosmic chess player, but like a loving parent who has painstakingly and thoughtfully planned a most delightful treasure hunt for a child of immeasurable value and worth. The course is mapped, the treasures are hidden, awaiting discovery if…If the child follows the directions. If the child wants to play. If the child stays focused and doesn’t go skipping off, gleefully oblivious, into directions unplanned. But God – oh, the God Who created and loves us – is the doting parent who will guide even the most distracted child back onto the path toward treasure if...If we trust, if we choose, if we seek, we can be captured by the King.

Brian Doerksen – “Come, Now Is The Time To Worship”

One day ev'ry tongue will confess You are God
One day ev'ry knee will bow
Still the greatest treause remains for those,
Who gladly choose you now

The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. – Matthew 13:45-46

p.s. -- That God you think about, sitting up there, as you scoff that I'm weak because I depend on Him? He's strong enough to move you wherever He wants you. He loves you enough to let you choose to be moved.

You Give and Take Away

2007-11-29T22:08:00.000-05:00

And still I choose to say, God, blessed be Your Name. God is good because of Who He is, and I praise Him through tears of loss of a beautiful friend, a beloved wife and mother. I love you, Kim.

Blessed Be Your Name

Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name when I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name

Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise
And when the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name when the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

(Matt and Beth Redman)

Kenosis

2007-11-28T19:26:00.000-05:00

In church and Bible study, "kenosis" refers to the "emptying" of Christ in Philippians 2:7. Wow, I had no idea the concept was so complex (that's Greek for ya); it seems so simple. Anyway, after having scanned essays about it, I realize I didn't fully understand or appreciate its implications. It's a whole study unto itself.

Of course, I just deleted MY WHOLE POST with a single, misplaced stroke of the keys. I thought it was Satan at work but what he meant for evil, I can turn to God's glory. Yes, it really works!! I'll spare the diatribe and just say this:

The emptier I get of myself and trappings of "me"-ism, the more I am filled up with God. We have less disposable income right now than we have had in the last several years (or maybe of our entire marriage), yet I am more thankful. My wants are vastly fewer. My contentment and gratitude are at a near-record high. As I go out, God comes in. As I decrease, He increases. And the beautiful thing is, it's happening in my husband as well. It may be sheer desperation on his part, I don't know, but if it takes depletion of our earthly goods to bring about a deeper and richer faith in God for my husband, I have nothing but praise for the hand and works of our mighty God. My husband, daughter, and I are beloved children of the Most High God, and nothing satisfies more than a deep and abiding knowledge of that most imporant truth.

Hey, did you know that you are His beloved child, too?

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God"Philippians 4:6

Okay, not so much, really

2007-10-16T23:09:00.000-04:00

Of course I wasn't BORN Baptist. But here, in the buckle of the Bible belt that I am blessed to call home, people nod and chuckle knowingly when you say that. I really don't hear the same allusions made to being "born Methodist" or "born Catholic." Hmm. Wonder why. I guess being "born Baptist" explains a lot. Haha.

What I mean by that -- and what most of us mean by that -- is that my family, on both sides, was Baptist as far back as anyone can reckon. My earliest memories of my Christian heritage begin with my grandparents on both sides. My mother's father was a Baptist preacher. His wife, who is but a single angel's breath short of sainthood in my eyes, was the ultimate picture of a preacher's wife. She grew flowers and made the arrangements for the tiny little churches. She cooked meals and visited the sick. She taught Sunday school, VBS, Sunbeams. What sweet, sweet memories for me. I still have some of the little flannel board kits she used in those classes, and some hand-made activities she created back in the day before the slickly packaged kits churches use today. Precious.

My father's parents weren't involved in that way but were of the "whenever the doors were opened" ilk. They were involved more in fundraising, donating, etc. In their small church were a stained glass window and a pew both bearing a brass plate engraved with our family name to represent donations given for the building of the church. Whenever I went to church with them, I couldn't understand why we didn't sit in OUR bench. How can you have a bench with your name on it and NOT SIT THERE???? Well, my grandmother had HER PLACE in church. Everyone had THEIR PLACES in church. (Now I know what that's like. We were not in Sunday service most of this past summer, and when we went back in the fall we parked ourselves back in OUR PLACE. If anyone else had gotten comfortable there over the summer, they have since relocated with nary a sideways glance. And hubby and I are weird for Baptists -- out of some 50-60 rows of pews three wide, we sit on the right hand side, fourth pew from the FRONT, middle of the pew, me on the left and hubby on the right. Nerdy Baptists, I guess -- like we always like to sit up front in classes.)

Well, as you can see, both sets of grandparents were greatly involved in church and my parents, as children, were necessarily involved as well. My mother was forced to play the piano in church, which she hated. I think that when my parents both got to be teens (they hadn't met at this point) they complained enough to be relieved of mandatory church attendance. And that they liked. Church activities had become a chore and a drudgery for them.

Preview to the next installment: The sixties were not kind to families. The sixties were not kind to faith. The sixties, I believe, were pretty much single-handedly responsible for much of the family breakdown and societal mayhem with which we wrestle today. Women's lib? Pffft. No friend of mine, let me tell you. Also, let me tell you how NOT to raise a child: "Oh, we were so unhappy with organized religion; let's just let her find her own way." Pardon my French but "finding my own day" literally damn near got me killed, certainly spiritually if not practically physically. I am NOT passing that legacy to my child.

Proverbs 22:6 -- Train up a child in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it.

I Was Born a Baptist

2007-10-15T22:59:00.000-04:00

Let me digress to say, "Really?" Over three months since my last entry? Gee, school must have started back in the meantime. Life is a blur.

I'm feeling compelled to write something here that will necessarily arrive in installments. I'm actually preparing for something I have to do in a few weeks. At school, every morning, the teachers meet for prayer/devotions. Thursdays are always teacher-led devotions, and this year we were given a theme: our testimony. I am actually looking forward to doing this. My day is about a month away and I have to start now, sorting out my thoughts. There is so much I want to say, but I need to see it all written down so I can prioritize. I mean, I'll only have twenty minutes. In a class that my husband and I used to teach for new Christians, we instructed the participants to develop an abridged version of their Christian testimony, short enough to give while crossing the street, so as to be able to tell their story succinctly. But me? Ha.

I do know how I'll start out. It's the same way I intend to start out here. Many who haven't known me for a long time probably assume, based on my zealousness regarding some moral and social issues, that I was born and raised in a Christian family. I truly was not. My story is one of coming to a saving relationship with Christ at a relatively late age and of the many abrupt, distinct changes that decision brought to my life (all good, by the way).

I have previously been envious of those who can claim to have been born to devoutly Christian parents, who were raised in church and with a knowledge of God and His Word, and all the other beautiful blessings that go with that heritage. I have recently, however, come to appreciate the unique perspective that my own delayed salvation has brought me. This is in no way to say that I wish this experience for anyone, for we never know when Jesus will return to settle the score once and for all.

1 Thessalonians 5:1-5
1 Now as to the times and the epochs, brethren, you have no need of anything to be written to you. 2 For you yourselves know full well that the day of the Lord will come just like a thief in the night. 3 While they are saying, "Peace and safety!" then destruction will come upon them suddenly like labor pains upon a woman with child, and they will not escape. 4 But you, brethren, are not in darkness, that the day would overtake you like a thief; 5 for you are all sons of light and sons of day.

But, my experience regarding my late-coming relationship with Christ just cements the fact that I am blessed and protected by God and I always have been. This has given me, I think, a very different perspective on grace and God's faithfulness than many who knew Him from an early age. Oh, how I do wish I would have made a decision for Him when I was young, but He knew all along that I would be His. He even knew how I would fight Him along the way, and that makes His grace that much more precious. He did not give up on me, even when I gave up on Him. I know I do not deserve to dwell in His presence, but He created me out of a desire to be with me and He pursued me relentlessly for 33 years to have that relationship. I was caught, blessedly caught, and in being caught I was set free.

2 Peter 3:9-10
9 The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.

Grace. Grace. Amazing, sweet, flowing, abundant grace.
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

231 years old....wow!!

2007-07-05T00:02:00.000-04:00

Happy Birthday, America!! We went this evening to our now-annual outing to the 4th of July fireworks at Lenox Square. We used to not want to bother with the crowds but we've done it the last couple of years and it's gone pretty well. Since this does take place at not just any mall, but at a mall in Buckhead, one of the most perenially congested areas of Atlanta, necessity dictates early arrival. We parked at Phipps Plaza, across the street from Lenox, as we usually do. We were able to score a great parking spot on the top level close to the mall entrance and close to the corner where we would later cross to Lenox. This great spot allowed us to be in the car and out on the highway within 20 minutes of the fireworks finale.

We arrived at 3:30 with fireworks to begin at 9:40, but thankfully we had a plan that kept us from having to a) wander through stores whose wealth detectors know the second we walk through the door that we don't belong, or 2) camp in the parking lot for 6 hours. We went to the theater and saw Ratatouille....for the second time in a week. If anything, we all (DH, 7 1/2 yo DD, and I) all enjoyed it more the second time. I was able to spend more time taking in all the peripheral details in the animation -- the bread that Remy was about to eat before he was interrupted by Gusteau looked as real as anything I've ever held in my own hand, with big crevices and a beautiful true-life translucence. The scratches and patina on the copper cookware, the unevenness of the floor in the old restaurant, the scratches on the floor under the furniture legs are just a few more examples of attention to true-life detail rendered splendidly in animation. The audience in this showing actually consisted more of adults than children, and to hear them engage in and enjoy the show really heightened the experience for all of us. It was great fun and the release of this movie on DVD may finally push me to buy a better television.

We made a quick stop at Chick-Fil-A in the food court for a bite to eat and we headed across the street at about 6:30. The whole parking lot at Lenox was closed down by this time so we had ample space to set up our three folding chairs. Then DH and DD set off to garner her a balloon. What is up with kids and balloons these days? Why is a free, cheapo balloon still a big deal? They get them everywhere now, restaurants, dentist, bookstores, you name it. I think by the time I was her age I might have ever had 5 balloons, and helium? Forget it! Anyway, off they went. Now, last year when they made this trek, they stopped at a booth for some charity where they donated a dollar and DD got to spin a prize wheel. She came back with a DVD set of Season 1 of Boston Legal, so she was truly my hero. I was hoping she could snag Season 2 for me this time, or maybe a season of The Office. Alas, they returned with one balloon, two paper fans, two giveaway do-rags and one stadium cup, all promoting the local news show that was covering the festivities.

A few bands were playing -- one country, one southern rock, one more soul style. All were pretty good but I can't for the life of me figure out why, at such a family-oriented event, they sing songs with profanity? I mean, mostly d*** and h***, but one instance of b***h. Why??

At 8 pm the live television coverage began, so a military band played the National Anthem. Six words, people: STAND UP. TAKE OFF YOUR CAPS.

After the anthem, three Blackhawk helicopters did a flyover and I got the requisite lump in my throat. Typically they have jets fly over but I always choke up at whatever show of military presence there is. I am so grateful to our dedicated men and women in uniform and their families. Off subject, but the most impressive flyover I have seen was of some Apache helicopters at the November 1992 Hooters 500 in Atlanta for Richard Petty's last-ever NASCAR race which, incidentally, was the race during which Gentleman Alan Kulwicki won the Winston Cup. The three copters blasted in out of nowhere, it seemed, and flew low to follow behind King Richard in a lap around the track. Now THAT was a sight to behold.

The fireworks began at 9:40 as scheduled. This show is reported to be the largest in the southeast, east of the Missisippi and south of DC. Anyone who has been in the same county as me knows I love Walt Disney World and a highlight of our many visits has always been to close a long day with fireworks over Cinderella Castle. But man, oh man...if I may lapse into Southern vernacular for a moment: I ain't never seen no fireworks like I saw tonight. A full 20 minutes set to the usual rousing Southern- and American-themed music. We were so close that I had to relax my head back on my seat to really get a good view, and it looked as though they were coming right down on me. Actually, we all got dusted with debris from the casings and some ash. It was surreal. The fireworks that erupted during "Georgia" were peach and green, like peaches. And there were many new effects this year that were beyond spectacular. They just took my breath away and even 20 minutes seemed to fly by.

Some things I observed during our 2 1/2-hour wait for the show:

*While I am in favor of American citizens keeping more of our money and the imperial government getting less, I think we might benefit from financial assistance to provide mirrors in some peoples' houses so they can take a look before they go out. I saw too many 50-year-old, 250-lb women in miniskirts; too many bra straps; too many flabby bellies hanging out of shirts and flabby hineys hanging out of pants; and too many thongs and tramp stamps (sorry, that's the only thing I've ever heard them called).

*40- and 50-year-old-women still think they're hot and like to dance when they've had a little bit to drink. That is alternately amusing and pathetic. I guess it's amuthetic?

*Why do people take little babies to fireworks shows? Ok, if you're a few blocks down, maybe. But 200 yards from the launching point? The group beside us had a baby who was maybe 1 month old. Guess who wasn't happy when the REALLY LOUD NOISES began? That baby and about a dozen others within spitting distance. Poor little ears.

*Two ladies beside us with 2 small children were very conscientious to take turns watching the kids so the other could step away and smoke away from the children. Right in front of us. Please, move and take your cancer sticks with you. I don't know if there's any single behavior that looks less ladylike than waving one of those things around and blowing smoke.

*Never fails any time or anywhere we get somewhere early for something, and I'm sure it doesn't just happen to us: We get there early, stake out a seat, wait patiently for our event, and right at the big moment a group comes and stands in front of us. Oh, no, buddy, I'm sorry, you're going to have to move or sit down.

*Is it possible for a Mexican female between the ages of oh, say, 18 and 40 to NOT be pregnant?

*If you're in public, and especially in a public that includes children, is it really necessary to use profanity in your conversations?

*They're called TRASH CANS. They're those big cardboard boxes about every 20 feet.

*Port-a-potties aren't necessarily evil. This event always has more than ample temporary relief facilities, probaby 150 or more, and they are always spotless.

*My DH will get mad if, at the end of the evening when all 150,000 of us are trying to walk out of the mall parking lot, a big guy pushes in front of us and I say, "Hey, buddy, we're all trying to get somewhere." Learned that by experience tonight.

*Fascinating to look at some of the couples and try to imagine how on earth they got together.

*I don't understand people coming to something like this three hours in advance and not bringing something to sit on.

*Funnel cakes are worth the wait and the six bucks. Especially if you ask for extra sugar.

Random musings from today

2007-04-08T21:52:00.000-04:00

Resurrection Sunday -- what a blessed day. He is risen!

Webkinz. Meh. Vile little cute creatures. Anyone want to trade Beanie Babies for Webkinz? I'll trade you 10 to 1. Sure do wish they had upgraded their servers before the Easter Bunny made his rounds this morning. Apparently everyone under 10 (or under 42?) got a Webkinz today. Their site has been trash.

Speaking of the Easter Bunny...I NEVER had Easter baskets like my daughter got this morning! Gotta have a talk with that rabbit.

Have you ever been to a movie that you were embarrassed to talk about? I saw one last Friday. Now, I LOVE war movies -- Saving Private Ryan, Blackhawk Down, Full Metal Jacket, etc. Violence and bloodshed, in realistic settings such as those, don't really bother me on the surface. I also LOVED Gladiator. Last Friday, my husband wanted to see 300. "It's like Gladiator, only with 300 of them instead of one." Hmmm. 300 bare-chested Russell Crowes? Gee, let me....okay, I'm game! Well, 300 is SO NOT GLADIATOR. It was appalling. I had my head turned away for more than half the movie. It is absolutely shameful. I should have just taken my tiramisu, smuggled in from Carrabbas, and sat in the lobby. The only other movies I have hated as much, though on much different grounds, are A Fish Called Wanda and Raising Arizona. Also very embarrassed to say that I have seen Boxing Helena. Forget you saw that.

What kind of Disney fan are you?

2007-04-04T23:22:00.000-04:00

I was going to post this on my beloved Oct. moms' board but I think the other Mouseketeers and I may be wearing out our welcome, LOL. Anyway, if you're interested:

What Kind of Disney Fan are You?

As for me?

Now, who has no life?

2007-04-04T11:49:00.000-04:00

It's been too long since my last entry, so I'm doing what any guilt-ridden blogger would do -- blog-lifting material from others. I actually saw this on Christi's blog -- she never fails to crack me up with her gentle sarcasm. It's like reading letters from me to myself. This is the "you have no life if you have seen more than 85 of these movies....." list. I am enclosing my list for the curious but I have to wonder about the person who came up with this idea and compiled the list.

Let's consider, for a moment, that these movies are on the same list:

Scream and Wizard of Oz
Jeepers Creepers and The Little Mermaid
I Spit on Your Grave and The Chronicles of Narnia
Anchorman and Blazing Saddles
Harold and Kumar go to White Castle and Sixteen Candles
Anger Management and Airplane
And Pirates of the Caribbean I and II? WTH? I only saw the first one about two months ago and now I've seen them both about 85 times. What does that mean?

Is there any comparison to those that I've highlighted above? There is absolutely no rhyme or reason to the selection of genres; A-grades vs. B-grades v.s., oh, M-grades; or the movies themselves. How on earth can anyone with any sort of reasoning ability put Saw and Finding Nemo on the same list?

I will confess to having loved Children of the Corn many years ago, but I sincerely believe that was in another lifetime. And Evil Dead, why, those were the first movies with which my DH began to woo me (I'm sure the rum and Coke helped...). But hey, anything with Bruce Campbell is a hit with me, as evidenced by the hours I spent alone with the portable DVD player and all 27 episodes of The Adventures of Brisco County Jr. last fall.

Anyway, for what it's worth (which, methinks, is not very much), I enclose my list for your your reading pleasure. By my count I get 54. This puts me safely below the "having no life" level (34% below, to be precise). But then, you have to factor in that I am spending way too much time trying to analyze this list, so that probably pushes me, relatively, back around the 10% +/- range. Sigh.

( I plead the 5^th – I have never forgiven my cousin) Rocky Horror Picture Show
(X) Grease

(X ) Pirates of the Caribbean
(X ) Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest
( ) Boondock Saints
( ) Fight Club
( ) Starsky and Hutch
(X) Neverending Story
(X ) Blazing Saddles
(X ) Airplane
(X ) The Princess Bride
( ) AnchorMan
( ) Napoleon Dynamite
( ) Labyrinth
( ) Saw
( ) Saw II
( ) White Noise
( ) White Oleander
(X ) Anger Management
(X ) 50 First Dates
(X ) The Princess Diaries
( ) The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement
( ) Scream
( ) Scream 2
( ) Scream 3
( ) Scary Movie
( ) Scary Movie 2
( ) Scary Movie 3
( ) Scary Movie 4
( ) American Pie
( ) American Pie 2
( ) American Wedding
( ) American Pie Band Camp
(X ) Harry Potter 1
(X ) Harry Potter 2
( ) Harry Potter 3
( ) Harry Potter 4
( ) Resident Evil 1
( ) Resident Evil 2
( ) The Wedding Singer
( ) Little Black Book
( ) The Village
(X ) Lilo & Stitch
(X ) Finding Nemo
( ) Finding Neverland
( ) Signs
( ) The Grinch
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning
( ) White Chicks
( ) Butterfly Effect
( ) 13 Going on 30
( ) I, Robot
( ) Robots
( ) Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story
( ) Universal Soldier
( ) Lemony Snicket: A Series Of Unfortunate Events
(X) Along Came Polly
( ) Deep Impact
( ) KingPin
( ) Never Been Kissed
(X) Meet The Parents
( ) Meet the Fockers
( ) Eight Crazy Nights
( ) Joe Dirt
( ) King Kong
(X) A Cinderella Story
( ) The Terminal
( ) The Lizzie McGuire Movie
( ) Passport to Paris
(X) Dumb & Dumber
( ) Dumber & Dumberer
( ) Final Destination
( ) Final Destination 2
( ) Final Destination 3
( ) Halloween
( ) The Ring
( ) The Ring 2
( ) Surviving Christmas
( ) Flubber
( ) Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
( ) Practical Magic
( ) Chicago
( ) Ghost Ship
( ) From Hell
( ) Hellboy
( ) Secret Window
( ) I Am Sam
( ) The Whole Nine Yards
( ) The Whole Ten Yards
( ) The Day After Tomorrow
( ) Child’s Play
( ) Seed of Chucky
( ) Bride of Chucky
( ) Ten Things I Hate About You
( ) Just Married
( ) Gothika
( ) Nightmare on Elm Street
(X) Sixteen Candles
( ) Remember the Titans
( ) Coach Carter
( ) The Grudge
( ) The Grudge 2
( ) The Mask
( ) Son Of The Mask
( ) Bad Boys
( ) Bad Boys 2
( ) Joy Ride
( ) Lucky Number Sleven
(X) Ocean’s Eleven
( ) Ocean’s Twelve
( ) Bourne Identity
( ) Bourne Supremecy

( ) Lone Star
( ) Bedazzled
( ) Predator I
( ) Predator II
( ) The Fog
( ) Ice Age
( ) Ice Age 2: The Meltdown
( ) Curious George
X) Independence Day
(X) Cujo
( ) A Bronx Tale
( ) Darkness Falls
(X ) Christine
(X ) E.T.
(X ) Children of the Corn
( ) My Bosses Daughter
(X ) Maid in Manhattan
(X ) War of the Worlds
( ) Rush Hour
( ) Rush Hour 2
( ) Best Bet
(X ) How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
( ) She’s All That
( ) Calendar Girls
( ) Sideways
( ) Mars Attacks
( ) Event Horizon
( ) Ever After
(X ) Wizard of Oz
(X ) Forrest Gump
( ) Big Trouble in Little China
( ) The Terminator
( ) The Terminator 2
( ) The Terminator 3
( ) X-Men
( ) X-2
( ) X3
( ) Spider-Man
( ) Spider-Man 2
( ) Sky High
( ) Jeepers Creepers
( ) Jeepers Creepers 2
( ) Catch Me If You Can
(X ) The Little Mermaid
(X) Freaky Friday (the original)
( ) Reign of Fire
( ) The Skulls
( ) Cruel Intentions
( ) Cruel Intentions 2
( ) The Hot Chick
(X ) Shrek
(X ) Shrek 2
( ) Swimfan
( ) Miracle on 34th street
( ) Old School
( X) The Notebook
( ) K-Pax
( ) Krippendorf’s Tribe
(X ) A Walk to Remember
( ) Ice Castles
( ) Boogeyman
( ) The 40-year-old Virgin
( X) Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring
(X ) Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
(X ) Lord of the Rings: Return Of the King
(X ) Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark
(X ) Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
( ) Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
( ) Base-ketball
( ) Hostel
( ) Waiting for Guffman
( ) House of 1000 Corpses
( ) Devils Rejects
( ) Elf
( ) Highlander
( ) Mothman Prophecies
( ) American History X
( ) Three
( ) The Jacket
( ) Kung Fu Hustle
( ) Shaolin Soccer
( ) Night Watch
(X ) Monsters Inc.
(X ) Titanic
( X) Monty Python and the Holy Grail
( ) Shaun Of the Dead
( ) Willard
( ) High Tension
( ) Club Dread
( ) Hulk
( ) Dawn Of the Dead
( ) Hook
(X ) Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
( ) 28 days later
( ) Orgazmo
( ) Phantasm
( ) Waterworld
( ) Kill Bill Vol. 1
( ) Kill Bill Vol. 2
( ) Mortal Kombat
( ) Wolf Creek
( ) Kingdom of Heaven
( ) the Hills Have Eyes
( ) I Spit on Your Grave
( ) The Last House on the Left
( ) Re-Animator
( ) Army of Darkness
( ) Star Wars Ep. I The Phantom Menace
( ) Star Wars Ep. II Attack of the Clones
( ) Star Wars Ep. III Revenge of the Sith
( ) Star Wars Ep. IV A New Hope
(X ) Star Wars Ep. V The Empire Strikes Back
( X) Star Wars Ep. VI Return of the Jedi
( ) Ewoks: Caravan Of Courage
( ) Ewoks: The Battle For Endor
( ) The Matrix
( ) The Matrix: Reloaded
( ) The Matrix: Revolutions
( ) Animatrix
(X ) Evil Dead
(X ) Evil Dead 2
( ) Team America: World Police
( ) Red Dragon
(X) Silence of the Lambs
( ) Hannibal

If you really, really love someone. . .

2007-01-17T19:38:00.000-05:00

I know you're probably thinking about all the really deep, compassionate, philosophical ways we could end that statement. I started to give examples but I don't even feel like going there -- so trite. But what I really want to say is this:

If you really, really love someone. . . and their true heart's desire is to be on American Idol. . . and they can't carry a tune in an epoxy-lined bucket with a vacuum-sealed lid. . . please, please, please do us all a favor. And hit them on the head with a cinder block.

This is serious, this is real, this is....WAR

2007-01-02T17:36:00.002-05:00

Let's rewind a bit, shall we? To oh, say, about 6 months ago. Dates are irrelevant for these purposes but they have happened over the ensuing 6 months. You must understand that, unfortunately, I sleep in a bedroom separate from DH at the other end of the house because it is impossible, both physically and psychologically, for me to attempt to engage in productive REM sleep while in the bed beside something making a noise that is some combination of foghorn, chain saw, mad mama bear, warthog, and steam engine. [Author's note: That situation has long since been remedied, thankfully!]

Sometime in the summer, I am sitting at the computer, upstairs, and hear scritch-scritch-scritching in the attic above me. Oh, crud, there's a squirrel in the attic. Ignore it.
Repeat 4-5 evenings.
Tell DH, "There's a squirrel in the attic." Receive reply: "No, there's not."
Start hearing squirrels playing in the morning on Saturdays when I'm not getting up at 5:30 am. They start playing about 6 am.
Tell DH there is now more than one squirrel in the attic. Receive reply: "No, there's not."
Hear squirrels arguing/playing/chittering/mating/smoking cigarrettes in afterglow. Go upstairs and find miniature champagne glasses and a flower-laden ponytail holder, escaped from Olivia's bathroom, that was apparently used as a squirrel-sized thong. Not to mention a CD single of "Muskrat Love." Show DH. He claims they were left behind by a band of gnomes that was adopted by the family who lived here before us.
A few weeks later, the resident rodents have apparently extended an invitation to friends and/or family to set up house/nest at the other end of their plantation, which would be above DH's bedroom. DH tells me, "There are squirrels in the attic." Deliver reply: unprintable.
I am told that moth balls are a deterrent to squirrels. I toss moth balls in the attic. Squirrels are apparently turned on by moth balls. I think they use them for bowling or croquet; based on the sound, I cannot determine exactly which. I cannot retrieve the moth balls because they have sunk into the blown-in insulation. My upstairs smells like moth balls.
Spend the next few weeks banging the attic door, flicking the attic light on and off and yelling "SCRAM, YOU FUZZ-TAILED, EAVES-GNAWING FIENDS!" at dusk and dawn. The squirrels have responded to this, oh, yes -- by inviting friends over to hear the crazy lady and eat popcorn; there's no way their friends would believe it unless they see it for themselves.
Look online and inquire of friends as to measure for dealing with squirrels. Options are the catch-and-release-them-ten-miles-away-cage (not a long-term solution) or a professional extermination and a carpenter to re-seal all possible entries. My husband suggests putting rat poison in peanut butter in the attic. ??? I don't want live squirrels in the attic, I sure don't want dead squirrels in the attic. He is positive they would go outside to die. But then he's also positive they don't nest and have babies in attics. Funny, that's not what my extensive research told me.
Finally, DH decides to research the matter himself. He disappears in the basement to his computer for an hour and proclaims that he has decided to go with the experts. I am relieved -- we'll have a professional exterminator remove the rodents and have the soffits checked and sealed. He looks at me as though I am nuts. No, not THOSE experts, silly -- the OTHER experts -- rednecks. (Wonder if that sage advice will come from his uncle or my cousins....and, did you know that if you Google "squirrel attic redneck" you get 20,100 results? Try it!) That's right, my husband is going to sit in the attic with a gun. And, of course, none of the 11 guns in the cabinet downstairs will suffice -- I'm actually very relieved that he has opted NOT to hunt wildlife in our attic with any of his current shotguns, rifles, pistols, or even the Germany military semi-automatic something-or-other (I don't know, don't ask). This calls for a high-powered pellet gun. Which he has yet to purchase. It has to be a particular brand of gun and he knew right away which kind that was. I'm starting to think he's been hankering for this thing for some time and maybe invited the squirrels in, himself, as an excuse to acquire a new toy.

More to come at an undetermined time. Unfortunately (fortunately?) this is the week where my husband has to work late and can't go pellet-gun shopping for a few days. I will admit, I have just enough good 'ole girl in me to be mildly intrigued and, perhaps, turned on by his pending display of machismo. Stay tuned. I have no idea what happens when live 110-volt wires are hit by a screaming 4-mm ball of high-density plastic at high velocity.

Stolen blog material

2006-11-08T21:48:00.002-05:00

Explain what ended your last relationship?
My hubby. :-) I was only dating the guy at the time, then I met hubby and the rest was history...

What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.?
Taking roll in class and getting ready to go to chapel.

What were you doing 15 minutes ago?
Um, I think looking at the website myfamily.com.

Are you any good at math?
Pretty decent, I'd have to say. I love teaching it. I don't get to do these with my 7th graders but I love the quadratic formula, proofs in plane geometry, and completing the square. We are, however, about to start factoring monomials and polynomials in my pre-algebra classes, woo-hoo!

Your prom night?
Junior prom with a wacko, obsessed boyfriend. Didn't go to my senior prom b/c my mom was going to make me wear the dress from Prom #1. Not!

Do you have any famous ancestors?
Nobody recognizable that I'm aware of. I don't know particulars b/c the records are very spotty, but my grandfather was in the equivalent of the CIA in WWI. We can't find out much about his service, oddly enough...

Have you had to take a loan out for school?
I did after a while. Had scholarships in the beginning but after so many college and major changes, they get impatient with that.

Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile?
No myspace profile.

Last thing received in the mail?
Junk and a River Street Sweets catalog.

How many different beverages have you had today?
Sweet tea from Chick-Fil-A, water, tea at home.

Do you ever leave messages on peoples answering machine?
Yes.

Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to?
Get ready to fall off your stool but....Ozzie Osbourne! See answer about "prom," above.

Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach?
Yes, thought it was a requirement.

What was the most painful dental procedure you have had?
Anything where I have to keep my mouth open for a long time. My wisdom teeth extractions (4 at once, impacted) weren't bad thanks to some great pain killers.

What is out your back door?
Deck, screen porch, woods.

Any plans for Friday night?
No.

Do you like what the ocean does to your hair?
Doesn't do anything, really.

Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns?
Oh, yes. Cant' stand them.

Have you ever been to a planetarium?
Yes.

Do you re-use towels after you shower?
Yes, once or twice.

Some things you are excited about?
Gee....not really anything righ now!

What is your favorite flavor of JELLO?
Lime. I used to go to Piccadilly cafeteria when I was pregnant and get 2-3 bowls of it at lunch.

Describe your keychain(s)
Pewter Eeyore with key and opener for my Jeep, keys for old Jeep and the BMW, my house key, mom's house key, tags for Kroger, CVS, Build-A-Bear, and Memories.

Where do you keep your change?
In my wallet until I use it to pay for the next item.

Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed?
Open.

Did you read this far? Consider yourself tagged.
Yikes, I fell for it....

Now I know why chalkboards are passe in classrooms

2006-10-11T22:13:00.000-04:00

Chalkboards are out, white boards are in....and I finally figured it out today. I thought it was because of the chalk dust being messy, but it's actually because you can't get high from sniffing chalk. Ahhhhhh, blessed relief from a few whiffs of my Expo marker!!

Many of my kiddos bombed their math vocab test last week. I think this was totally unfounded, but as a gift of grace I offered them the chance to make corrections and turn their quiz back in. The questions were originally 4 pts apiece; properly corrected answers would gain them back 1 point each. So, I'm going through them today and notice that, for one guy, the writing of his revisions (just the letter, since it was matching) didn't match his normal writing and that of the letters on his original answers. I compare letters closely (the Rs, the Bs, the Ms, etc) and nope, they're different. So I asked him:

"Einstein, did anyone help you with your corrections?"

"Yes, my dad."

"Did you write the corrections?"

"No, my dad did."

"Where were you?"

"I was lying on the sofa. He was sitting at the table and I told him what to write."

Need I even attempt to describe the look that I felt come over my face at that point?

Einstein has a twin, also in 7th grade but they're in different classes. In science (I don't have them for science) they have been making PHOTOCOPIES of each other's papers to turn in for notebook checks! When the teacher discovered that today during a notebook check she turned eight shades of aubergine. That just doesn't even make good sense. Especially when on one paper you barely scribble through your brother's name and write yours above it....and the other one, well, why even bother scribbling out his name.

Now, back to my Expo markers to deal with the harsh realities of life with 7th graders.

Things I don't understand

2006-10-06T22:29:00.000-04:00

When a student is doing well, the student gets the credit. When she's not, I get the blame.
Parents who send their child to a school because of its academic reputation (i.e., rigor), then complain because their child isn't getting straight As.
Parents who tell their 7th grader, "Don't come to me for help, that math is too hard for me." Gee, nice encouragement there! Are these the same people who programmed Barbie? (remember the "Math class is hard!" debacle?)
Why a parent would ask for a conference with me about something that is seemingly insignificant, then come in with an entirely different agenda (for which I am not prepared) and not even broach the subject they originally inquired about.
Why I can't give writing assignments for punishment of repeated offenses. (writing the entire definition of "silent" 20 times for repeatedly talking at the silent lunch table)
Why I can't give silent lunch anymore (it infringes on their "social" time -- wellllll, if they'd just be silent IN class......)
Why it takes me 10 hours or more a day to prepare and teach five, 50-minute classes.
Why the just-this-month-turned-12-year-old who made Cs at her previous school in a class of FIVE was put into 7th grade instead of 6th.
Why a parent is still bugging me about his child's zero on a HOMEWORK grade from the first week of school (she didn't turn it in!).
My info that went home the very first week stated "All tests will be sent home to be signed by a parent and must be returned the next day." Parents returned a signed acknowledgment. But today I got back a test on which the child had made a 101 with the parent's comment, "WHY am I having to sign this?" I sent back a photocopy of the info sheet he had signed.
Why I love these kids anyway!

Blessed are those who perservere because....well, just because!

Way overdue

2006-09-04T19:55:00.000-04:00

Both an entry from me and a total reform, no, revolution, no, REPEAL of the federal income tax. I'm taking the quick and dirty way today to accomplish two goals: an easy entry for me and to further the cause of the Fair Tax. Quoted from their site:

The FairTax was created by first asking the American people what they wanted out of a tax system, and then having a team of respected economists design a tax system that met those demands. The FairTax replaces the income tax and all other federal taxes with a national consumption tax. The FairTax is levied only once, at the point of purchase on new goods and services. The simplicity of the FairTax frees Americans from our current overwhelming tax code and unshackles the U.S. economy.

The Fair Tax:

Abolishes the IRS
Closes all tax loopholes and brings fairness to taxation
Maintains our current Social Security and Medicare benefits
Brings transparency and accountability to tax policy
Allows American products to compete fairly
Reimburses the tax on purchases of basic necessities
Enables retirees to keep their entire pension
Enables workers to keep their entire paycheck

Read the FAQs here.

Plain English Summary here.

Sign the petition.

Spread the word. We can do it! Let's make April 15th just another day.

Woo-hoo, my first blog tag!

2006-08-19T16:47:00.000-04:00

Convenient because I'm in the land of the living dead right now with a URI -- welcome back to school!

Four jobs I've had in my life:
Bank teller trainer
Research faculty member at Georgia Tech
Typesetter for newspaper (high school)
Car seat/booster seat educator for a children's hospital

Four places I've lived:
Greenville, SC
Rocky Bottom, SC
Marietta, GA
Toccoa, GA

Four TV shows I love to watch:
The Office (I nearly cry when it goes off)
Boston Legal
Survivor
House

Four Places I've been on vacation:
Charleston, SC
Israel
Quebec
Disney World

Four Homemade Foods I love:
My Greek chicken
Parmesan Chicken
Roast beef
Almond creme with raspberry sauce

Four places I'd rather be right now:
Magic Kingdom, Disney World
Animal Kingdom, Disney World
Orcas Island, WA
In bed with a bottle of NyQuil

Four People I Tag:
Allyson
Claudia
Heather
Katie

38 days and 15 hours 'til I'm on my way to hug Mickey!

Wow, 10 days?

2006-08-18T19:08:00.000-04:00

Hard to believe it's been 10 days since I posted but, yeah, with just having completed the first week of school, I guess it's not surprising. I reminded Sweetie that the first few weeks back are all about sandwiches and takeout food. I set a personal record by getting sick after only 2.5 days back with kiddos -- it usually takes me about a month. If these were little knee-high kiddos, I could understand, but middle schoolers? Ack, how did THIS happen?

Check out my new link to real-time immigration statistics at ImmigrationCounters.com. How can anybody look at this and deny there is not a real problem here? We have got to stop whipping out the medical, education, and welfare teats for every warm body that holds out a hand. Getting the Fair Tax into reality will at least help recoup some of the losses the American taxpayer is experiencing, but according to ImmigrationCounters there has been $397,469,181,012 wired to Mexico as of the time I am writing this, much of it untaxed. At even a 10% tax rate, these social leeches would be putting $39 BILLION into the coffers toward everything they get from US working people. It's time to buckle down and secure our borders, hold lawbreakers accountable, and ditch the IRS. What a wonderful world.

Cheating today

2006-08-08T18:57:00.000-04:00

Just a quickie post to say I did it. Today for three and a half hours we were blessed with insights and inspiration from Dr. Tim Elmore, author of the acclaimed book, Nurturing the Leader within our Child. (Hmmm, how is it I've heard so much about this book in the last couple of years and there's only one review on Amazon.com?). He was amazing. He had some very pointed insights about this current generation, the Millennials. The school actually provided for us a copy of one of Dr. Elmore's Habitudes books, his third one, The Art of Leading Others. Read more about Dr. Elmore here.

I can't wait to delve into both of those books, but my gravy, I have a full plate! I'm in the middle of reading two others (see those on the left frame) and am just a tad busy these days preparing for oh, what is it? Just SCHOOL! Yikes! We have some awesome things in store for our 7th grade team. We are having an Army theme; they've already been drafted (promoted and assigned, LOL). The first day when we have all the paperwork is enlistment; their PE is going to be PT; we're going to Camp Kanuga this fall for some team-building exercises. Wonder if I can get them to come to my house for some KP duty? This came about because our principal said this group just needs some help with bonding and some of them need some encouragement. Our team leader prayed for guidance on ideas and the words honor and discipline kept being given to her. She ran into a former student who has just enlisted and he impressed upon her that the Army is all about honor and discipline. The overall theme is that the students are joining God's army but the military aspect will be there, as well. We decided not to shave their heads. . .We have a full U.S. Army uniform as well as the uniform like that of a Roman soldier to compare side by side.

It should be a great year. I'm anxious and nervous; I always am. The first day is always the most nerve wracking, but I have every confidence it will be a great year, both for me as a teacher and for daughter in first grade. Tears to come later.

Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. -- Ephesians 6:11

When E.F. Hutton Speaks

2006-08-07T23:01:00.000-04:00

Remember the commercials that would show people cupping their ears to listen to Mr. Hutton (supposedly)? “When E.F. Hutton speaks, people listen,” it said. My philosophy: when God speaks, I listen! Well, I would LIKE to say that I always listen but, being a mere human, it’s not that simple. But when God says the same thing to me twice, you can better believe I will turn an ear (and a heart) toward him. That happened to me over the past two days.

Yesterday at church, our Minster of Pastoral Care gave the sermon; it was our pastor's last Sunday of sabbatical. He spoke on Colossians 1:27: “…to whom God willed to make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” Now, I’m sure I’ve come across this verse in reading before but had never heard an exposition of it. While he referenced many other verses, this was his key verse and he kept bringing everything back around to how we don’t have to wonder as to the nature of the hope of the gospel – it’s Christ, in us, and that for believers the “riches of glory” is no longer a mystery. Very, very good, very touching to me, and I took notes.

Fast forward to today, the first day of preplanning at school for all teachers. Our Christian school is not part of a church. Even though the board members are all Christians, they are mostly businessmen and women and a homemaker or two. When the school was founded, they knew it was important to have true spiritual leadership from clergy members, so they ordained a committee of pastors (fathers of students) to give spiritual leadership to the decisions and direction of the school. Three of those pastors spoke this morning. The first one was fun, light, and interesting. The second one referenced our school’s theme verse: “We proclaim Him, admonishing every man and teaching every man with all wisdom, so that we may present every man complete in Christ” (Colossians 1:28). The point he kept driving home was, “Who among us is adequate?” Well, I certainly knew it is not ME by the time he charged us with all the responsibilities and burdens that we bear as teachers and ministers in that school! But what really got me was where he led us from there to state the source of our strength, the previous verse: “…Christ in you, the hope of glory.” ???? Now, it is an understatement to say that my radar screen really lit up at that. It had been, after all, not 24 hours before that I had listened to 50 minutes’ worth of teaching on that very verse. Wow. Just wow.

I won’t go into great detail here because it was a message for me and would lose something, probably, if I tried to translate it here. But the most wonderful thing was that, after three of the pastors had spoken, all the teachers, staff, administrators, even the facilities personnel lined up for commissioning: they prayed over us individually, by name, and we partook of the Lord’s Supper. What a sacred moment and what a privilege to begin a new school year this way, in an institution that bathes itself in prayer. What a deeply humbling, yet inspiring, thing to join in God’s work as an extension of the Christian home. Who among us is adequate? Not me. And I have to realize that none of my coworkers is adequate for the task, either. But God is. This is His work; as long as we consecrate ourselves to His work, in His will, He will be more than adequate through our pitiful flesh.

Christ in you, the hope of glory. While I have never mulled over those words before yesterday, I know that is what keeps me going. Today I sing a new song because my heart is overflowing with the hope of the glory that has been promised to me. Seven very simple words, one very profound meaning. I will be contemplating this for days to come.

Please pray that God will bless, strengthen, and inspire all the teachers, students, and families as another school year begins anew.

But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit. – 2 Corinthians 3:18

Come again?

2006-08-06T16:32:00.000-04:00

In the beginning, there was a desire for a candy. On the second day, it developed into a soft, sort of a kersquoozy-chewy marshmallow-like candy. On the third day, it was decided the candy would be shaped like a peanut. On the fourth day, the idea had developed into an orange, peanut-shaped candy. And, on the fifth day? Oh, yeah, let's make it marshmallow, peanut-shaped, orange colored, and banana flavored. Let there be....Circus Peanuts?????

Ah, yes, I regressed to age 7 and bought a bag today, at a humongadingus Bass Pro Shop Outdoor World, of all places. Daughter loves to go; they have all manner of stuffed wildlife, mounted gamefish, a huge fish tank, a rock climbing wall where we can watch people publicly humble themselves, and a shooting arcade. This weekend happened to be the Fall Hunting Classic, so there were lots of exhibits. We got to see several venomous and non-venomous snakes that are native to GA (yes, live, and yes, in locked aquariums, thank you very much), and a lady was there with a red-tailed hawk, a barn owl and a screech owl. The little screech owl had been molting and was just the cutest little thing. Daughter had her Beanie Baby hamster in her hand and the lady with the birds very wisely suggested that we stash Haffertee in my purse so as to not lead the magnificent birds of prey into thinking that we had brought a snack. Oh, yes, the Beanie Baby is named Pellet but for us it is Haffertee, after Haffertee Hamster Diamond in the books by Janet & John Perkins, now out of print but sometimes available on eBay - we highly recommend them.

The serpent said to the woman, "You surely will not die!" . . . The LORD God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this, cursed are you more than all cattle, and more than every beast of the field; on your belly you will go, and dust you will eat all the days of your life." Genesis 3:4, 14

Gotta give a little shout out

2006-08-04T06:40:00.000-04:00

To my new favorite indulgence, philosophy's state of grace fragrance. I've seen philosophy on QVC for a few years and I've always been intrigued by it. Last night, after dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, DH and I wandered into the mall and I had to stop by my favorite girly-girl place, Sephora. I knew this wouldn't be a spree, so I had to narrow things down pretty quickly. I had philosophy on my mind after seeing it just a couple of nights ago on QVC, so I headed there. All the testimonials are true about their state of grace fragrances. They are something you can wear and you won't get, "What kind of perfume are you wearing?" And you can never tell if the asker means they like it or want to avoid it. This is more of a "wow, you smell great!" sort of a fragrance, not clingy, it's more like you're walking around in a little misty veil of cleanness. I'm going to have to get the other two, amazing grace and baby grace. I layered them in the store last night and they were just amazing. So, I'm feeling fresh and girly today. Not a bad way to start the day!

For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing. -- 2 Corinthians 2:15

Confession

2006-08-03T21:47:00.000-04:00

Some of you think you know me. I’m a Christian, a wife, a mom, a daughter, a southerner, a teacher, an American, a conservative. Like most people, there are any number of labels that very aptly describe my leanings, my tastes, my talents, my positions, my faults. But I have a secret. One that very few people know. One that I really don’t talk about much, because it’s the sort of thing that will cause people to stare at you blankly and sidle away from you trying to look, at the same time, both at you (to make sure you’re not about to sprout another head or grab them about the neck with a tentacle) and where they’re going (to avoid personal injury as they attempt to escape from your imminently evil clutches).

I am just about obsessed with Bigfoot. As a matter of fact, a couple of years ago I developed and maintained a Bigfoot search results page for about.com. (Was getting paid for it, then they said they were abandoning this program and I wouldn’t get paid anymore. But, hmm. Guess what. It’s still there, still pops up in Google, still has ads on it. Somebody’s making money and it ain’t me…Time to check into this.)

I digress. I believe in Bigfoot. I have good reason to believe in Bigfoot. I have a close friend/relative (I try to specifically be very vague) who had a Bigfoot encounter (in the U.S.) several years ago. This is a person I know very well and have known for years, someone I would trust with my life. Someone who is educated, and who is a Christian and does not believe in alien abduction. So, I really have no choice but to believe in Bigfoot. This person’s encounter was verified and is presented in the many sightings reports of the Bigfoot Field Researcher’s Organization as a Class A report. (No, I will not tell you which one. I have pledged to maintain this person’s anonymity; only 3 other people have been told about this encounter by this particular person. Others were involved and, to the best knowledge, they have not discussed the matter outside their family. It’s not really coffee klatch conversation for those who have experienced it, apparently.)

Let me add that I also do not believe in aliens. God clearly states that he created heaven and earth; light; water and land; plants; animals; and, finally, His most beloved, blessed and special creation of all: man. Nowhere does God claim to have created any other sort of living being anywhere beyond the realm of our Earth, and certainly there is no mention of any living creation of His having reason and intellect other than man.

But Bigfoot? Is it really that wacky? There are dozens of field reports each year of scientists and researchers discovering animal species that have never before been reported, or re-discovering some that were thought to have been extinct. God spends quite a bit of time telling Job that God alone knows the total depths, wonders, and complexities of the world; after all, He created it. We will never know everything about this amazing planet that supports life in our solar system against all odds. I do not believe we are supposed to know everything. But don’t take my word for it. I’ve included some select charges to Job from God. Read Job 38-41 for “the rest of the story.”

“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding. Do you know the ordinances of the heavens, or fix their rule over earth? Who has put wisdom in the innermost being or given understanding to the mind? Is it by your understanding that the hawk soars, stretching his wings toward the south? Behold now, Behemoth [which some take to be dinosaurs], which I made as well as you. He eats grass like an ox; His bones are tubes of bronze; He bends his tail like a cedar; His limbs are like bars of iron. Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook? Can you fill his skin with harpoons, or his heat with fishing spears? Lay your hand on him; remember the battle; you will not do it again.”

Now, after hearing God challenge the knowledge that Job thought he, himself, possessed, it is easy to see that we are not intended to have God’s knowledge about our world. There are many things that are unknown to us because our Creator has deemed them fit for His mind alone, at least for a time. But, now you know one of my deepest, most closely guarded secrets. I believe in Bigfoot. And I believe in God. Faith and mystery can, certainly, co-exist.

For a fascinating and easy read on dinosaurs and other “monsters” from a biblical perspective, check out Dinosaur Questions and Answers from Answers in Genesis.

Favorite Bigfoot Questions and Answers

I have declared that which I did not understand, Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. – Job 42:3

Little Blessings...

2006-08-02T22:42:00.000-04:00

The downstairs A/C unit quit working yesterday. Oh, yeah, during the August heat wave of 2006 in Georgia. (Please, no "global warming" rants; blame the misplaced jet stream.) It’s kind of important. I told DH maybe it tripped a breaker since it had been running so much lately. He groused, “Oh, no, it COULDN’T be anything THAT simple and cheap!” Grumble grumble grumble to the basement. And I’m behind him saying, “Well, it COULD be!” More grumbling about my rose-colored glasses. We get down there and somehow the cover has slipped and messed up the switch. Straighten the cover, A/C works. We were giving God some high fives on that!

Speaking of A/C…last week DH changed the air filters on the units (hmm, now I know maybe how the cover got messed up!). He went to the attic unit and started in…grousing, grumbling, muttering, blah blah blah. “We’ve got a bona fide MESS on our hands up here! Blah-blah house falling apart blah blah money blah blah….don’t have time blah blah.” The tubing leading from the condenser had gotten plugged and the tray that is there to catch any drips was full of water to the brim. Now, all he had to do was siphon out the pan and clear the tubing. Muttering the whole time about his horrible luck. Me? I was downstairs praising God that DH had actually gone up to change the filter! Imagine the mess we COULD have had if he hadn’t gone?! I was pretty happy. I try to be thankful.

My back pain, that has limited my activities for a year and a half despite various treatments and pharmacological remedies, has been about 90% better since I had needles stuck in my hands and feet two weeks ago. I am a believer in that acupuncture! Stick me, baby, one more time!

A couple from our Sunday school class is taking us to The Cheesecake Factory for dinner tonight, just to get to know us better since we’re so far from church and never get to go to any of the during-the-week stuff. Yum-O!

A co-worker from my previous school and her husband have been going through the process of adopting a baby from Thailand. The past year has been all about paperwork, visits, qualifying, etc. When school was out they were down to the money part and she was concerned and having us pray about that. They would have it but only by taking a home equity loan, which they would rather not do. I saw her yesterday and asked for an update. No baby yet, but a few weeks ago they went into their Sunday school class (about 15 couples) and were presented a check for $2800, all donations. That evening her grandmother called. She had inherited some money from a relative and was giving them $2000. Their agency called a few days later and said someone else from their church had donated $2000 anonymously. These blessings, combined with their savings, give them all the money they need. The next contact they get from the agency should be baby news! What a wonderful, loving, Christian home awaits some truly blessed little soul that God is preparing just for them. My prayers are with you, A & B!

Wow, I can’t think of a better way to end than that.

I will give thanks to You, O Lord my God, with all my heart, and will glorify Your name forever. Psalm 86:12

It's the End of World as I Know It

2006-08-02T17:23:00.000-04:00

Well, not REALLY, but the REM song is drifting in and out of my mind today. Nix that; I just looked at the lyrics and let me just say, the REFRAIN of the song is in my mind. Um, yeah, them's some interesting lyrics there...

Anyway, summer is officially over for me; I start back to school tomorrow. Two days of new teacher orientation (I'm new to the school, not to teaching) and then five full days of preplanning next week. The story of how daughter and I have come to be at this wonderful school is amazing; I'll have to relate it sometime. It's a covenant Christian school, meaning that at least one parent of the student has to professing saving faith in Christ. Our previous school, where she was for kindergarten and I taught science, had all Christian faculty and staff but accepted anyone. 70% of the student body was unchurched. Hubby and I had a heart to heart (with ourselves and with God) this past winter and knew that we needed to get her in a covenant school as soon as possible. And, yes: All things are possible to him who believes." (Mark 9:23). God worked in a mighty way for us to make the move to this school; I'll have to relate that process in another post.

Getting started to school again is not all that bad, really. I am very excited! I actually love change, and the good thing about teaching is you start all over again with each new school year: new students, maybe a few new approaches, some new perspectives, new challenges and new rewards. I will teach four classes of 7th grade pre-algebra (my favorite) and one class of 7th grade science. There are four 7th grade teachers, and since the senior teacher for each grade teaches Bible (considered a core class here, held daily!), one subject is divided among the teachers; this year it's science, so all four of us have one class of science.

My room is just about set. It was the drama room, equipped with sofas, painted backdrops and props, racks of clothing -- it was wiped totally out in preparation for my arrival; I felt as though the Grinch had stolen all my roastbeast; the only thing left was a clock on the wall. l mean, there wasn't even a pencil sharpener or trash can, let alone any crumbs for the Who's mouses. But, the physical aspect of the room is all done; I have some papers to organize and file (still waiting on those hanging and manila folders) and SEVEN DAYS WORTH OF MEETINGS. Oh,I guess it would help to have some lesson plans written up before August 14th? I've been asking for a copy of my math curriculum for, oh, about 4 weeks now. Note to self: never start a new job at a school the year they are undergoing review for accreditation. But I hope that daughter (going into first grade) and I will be there at least through her senior year (well, I do want HER out after that!).

So, woo-hoo for me. It's back to work but what a blessing and a privilege for daughter and me to be at this remarkable institution, and what a humbling challenge for me to guide and inspire and instruct these wonderful students first and foremost in the ways of God's kingdom; keeps me on my toes, as well -- a lot of potential for personal growth! We're all a work in progress, you know.

Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it. -- Proverbs 22:6

The Boil on the Gluteus Maximus of Society

2006-08-01T11:17:00.000-04:00

At some point in my life, I said I would never:

Need a personal computer in my home. Ha.
Teach again -- here I am.
Have a blog -- ditto #2.

Why do people feel the need to do this? Could it be attention surplus syndrome? (I don’t really think that, but I had to find an excuse to link to this article.) People used to keep honest-to-goodness journals, thoughts and tidbits recorded on tangible paper for all posterity. I will not say that anything done on a computer will be kept for all posterity -- unless, of course, it's something that could one day be potentially damaging to your reputation or horribly embarrassing. Then, yep, it will definitely be around long after the roaches die out.

Was thinking about people's life themes that sort of define them. For example, the caustic Dr. Gregory House approaches life from the standpoint that everybody lies. I wouldn't say this is a theme of mine, necessarily, because there are other things that define me that are much more important than this, but one of my approaches to life is that I tend to trust people until given a reason not to. I generally tend to LIKE people until given a reason not to. Usually the “reason” manifests itself as an unmitigated show of selfishness or laziness. Boy, does that look harsh in brown and beigee. But how else to explain:

Litter. FIND A TRASH CAN. In the course of a day’s errands daughter and I can generate some trash in the car – straw wrappers, napkins, gum wrappers, empty cups,bags, receipts, etc. If it’s small, it goes in my purse to be thrown away that evening IN A TRASH CAN. If it’s big (hold on here, I know this is a novel concept for some) I keep it until I can put it IN A TRASH CAN. Honestly, what is so hard about that? Some people just seem to think they’re too good to ride around with an empty cup in their car (or a cigarette butt, don’t get me started on those), or they’re in such a hurry to get into the store that they can’t be troubled to walk 10 feet out of their way to the trash can on the sidewalk, so down goes the gum wrapper in the parking lot. You know, I don’t really know anyone who is so special that I would embrace their right to litter. And if I knew someone who WAS that special, whatever standing I had assigned to them in my mind would be immediately negated by throwing their trash on the ground. Along those lines, I came across an article today that describes yet another negative impact of Mexicans illegally crossing our borders. If they can’t even trouble to clean up after themselves on the way in, exactly how is it that they make good uninvited guests?
Failing to signal for turns or lane changes. Hint: that car cost many thousands of dollars. It has several little neat compartments and cubbyholes. Open one of them, just in front of where the front passenger sits. You’ll find a manual that will tell you how to operate the turn signals. What? You didn’t know it was included with the Urban Commando Package? Guess what -- even the base model Yugo (that I swear had a passenger seat as an option) was equipped with turn signals.
And WHAT is up with the parking spaces these days? It is as though everybody but me got a memo stating that the white lines in the parking lot are now only a suggestion and, like matters of morals these days, are to be constructed to mean whatever you want them to mean. Silly me, I’m still taking pains to make sure I’m parked evenly and straight between them. Last week I watched as an elderly gentleman in a mini-van pulled into the space beside me (ignoring the 486 other empty spaces) so tightly that he had to contort his body to wriggle out of the door that he was only able to open about 8 inches. I had to fold down his rear-view mirror to be able to walk between our cars. I have dozens of other incidents to relate but I guess we all do, unless one of the “we” happens to be the dim bulb that actually commits these egregious parking faux pas and will claim to have no clue. I guess I should at least give some folks credit for parking, more or less, in designated parking areas and not in a fire lane or wherever happens to be convenient for them, parking lot or not. Apparently it’s not a phenomenon that only I have noticed. In a Google image search for examples of bad parking, most of the results returned were part of someone’s blog.
Bumper stickers, billboards, and t-shirts in public that are emblazoned with crude, vulgar, crass images or words. Yes, I know all about the First Amendment, thank you very much, and I will support anyone’s right to be able to say whatever they want. However, common decency and a good grandmother’s smack of common sense should dictate that you don’t put nasty words or pictures where they will easily be seen by children or offend the sensibilities of decent people. While we’re at it, girls (and women), bra straps are supposed to go UNDER the clothes, breasts are supposed to be contained INSIDE said bra and clothing, and no, I really don’t want to see your thong or your tattoo. Guess what…about 98% of the rest of the world doesn’t want to see them, either.
Leaving the table at a fast food restaurant in a disgusting mess.
Any kind of radio or CD noise played loudly enough that people four cars down can hear it. And I start seething when the offender is sitting in a parking lot with windows rolled down blaring whatever he loosely defines as "music." Most of the time it's nasty. And the driver has created a parking spot just for himself totally oblivious to the "parking suggestion" lines painted on the ground.
And don't even get me started on the glut of cell phone rudeness that now permeates society.

Selfish, selfish, selfish. Courtesy to others, both known and unknown to us, is truly a lost art. People are all about themselves these days. I really don’t have a fancy or eloquent way to state it otherwise. Too many in our society are just boorish, selfish, and rude. It is a poor reflection on our culture and does not bode well for our future. History has validated, time and time again, the broken window theory. While the theory was intended to make a case for the relationship between small, seemingly petty vandalism and increased crime, it’s not much of a stretch to see that the same principle applies to the behaviors of a society. Little things that used to be commonplace surprise me now, as they have become increasingly rare: tossing up a hand in thanks when I let you pull out onto the highway from the side street; going in the right-hand door so as to not cause a confuzzelation with me, who actually is using the right-hand door coming out; a clerk truly looking me in the eye and giving a genuine greeting and thanks when I’m conducting business. As the little things go, they will be missed less and less and then bigger courtesies will slide, soon to be followed by common sense and decency. We seem to have forgotten the art of being gracious in both giving and receiving, and it is a major blow to the sense of order and goodness in our world.

Go do something nice for society. Let your actions show that you're aware this beautiful world does not revolve around you.

Do not eat the bread of a selfish man, or desire his delicacies;…You will vomit up the morsel you have eaten and waste your compliments. – Proverbs 23:6,8

Bad Spellers of the World….Unite

2006-07-31T01:03:00.000-04:00

Unite, that is, to make a commitment to check a dictionary (remember those?) when you don’t know how a word is spelled. Yes, I know what the funny t-shirt says but I have a different approach: "Hello, my name is Lydia, and I am a spelling snob." When you are not seeing or meeting a person face to face (or even by telephone) but are, rather, reading something they have written (as an e-mail, web post, blog entry, or something work related), that all-important first impression is based on the only thing you have before you: word choice, grammar, syntax, and spelling. As I recently commented to a friend and fellow wordsmith, bad spelling is, to me, the first-impression equivalent of spinach in the teeth, BO, and an unzipped fly all rolled into one. Oh, toss in there a limp handshake for good measure. (Lest you think I may have it out for children and those who are not particularly nimble of finger, rest assured that I bear no ill will for misspellings by youngsters and for the occasional tpyo.)

I’m even willing to make concessions for the fact that not everyone was even mildly interested in school, maybe was not as much of a geek as I was. But that was THEN. If you know you didn’t do so well in school THEN, I would think that NOW that you’re all, like, grown up and, you know, all, you would decide that maybe, just maybe, you need to take a few extra precautions to ensure that you present yourself well. If you read at all (cereal boxes, advertisements, weblogs) might you not notice that some people spell things differently than you? And, might that not cause a little niggling something in the back of your mind to think,“Hmm. That’s odd…wonder why they spell that differently. Let me look it up in the dictionary and see who’s right.” If you know you used to get lots of red circles on your term papers, just humble yourself now and realize that, yes, it is difficult to determine whether a word ends in "-ent" or "-ant" just by saying it. So go ahead, grab that big book!

My dictionary of choice is Noah Webster's First Edition of an American Dictionary of the English Language, but seriously, any reasonable dictionary--even the one on your computer or at Dictionary.com--should suffice for most.

Thought for the day: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction." -- Proverbs 1:7.

Rats Amoré (or, Sam is So Skinny)

2006-07-31T00:37:00.000-04:00

My daughter (7 this October) has, for some reason, fallen in love with America’s “A Horse with No Name.” Beats me how this even came to find its way onto my iPod, but she adores it. (Hippie music, I call it – drug-inspired, it must be, to boast such lyrics as “the heat was hot.” Wow, guys, you dug deep for that one!) Anyway, on the trip to my uncle’s birthday party this past Saturday (where I was looking right when my turn was on the left, and I went 9 miles past my turn to end up at Tallulah Gorge which I had, incidentally, seen Karl Wallenda cross on a wire when I was 4) we had the iPod rocking and she wanted to hear “A Horse with No Name.” I just set it to play the America songs and after her song came America’s “Muskrat Love.” Daughter had, by this time, turned her attention back to her Junie B. Jones book. At first I was kind of humming along and singing the song. I played it again, and thought it was kind of cute. I played it again, and started chuckling out loud and finally just giggling while daughter, with all the aplomb of a 13-year-old, rolled her eyes and tried to ignore me. Mind you, please, that I already had my own flip-face clock radio radio when The Captain and Tennille had a hit with their version of “Muskrat Love." What I mean to say is, that song is no stranger to me. Phooey, I had the album. So why this song struck me as so funny at age 40 I have no clue. But in true stream-of-consciousness thinking, where one thing leads to another and to yet another, I decisively resolved that it must truly have been a low point in American radio when a Top 40 slot (heck, a Top 5, at that) was held for 12 weeks by a song about water rodents whirling, twirling, and tangling in a blissful expression of love. Which got me thinking…what a dark period in television, indeed, for Daryl Dragon and Toni Tennille—replete with long, flowing tunics—to be broadcast weekly. I loved them and thought The Captain was terribly cute and mysterious, what with his nickname, his cap, and his apparent vow of silence. But…what was ABC thinking? What was I thinking when I commandeered the technologically advanced, 13-channel RCA ColorTrak from my parents every week?

What were THEY thinking when they relinquished control of the dial? Now that I think about it, they disappeared during that time. Maybe they were nibbling on bacon and chewing on cheese…

Side notes: Funny, I always thought it was Neil Young singing on "A Horse with No Name." Apparently a lot of people did but it actually wasn’t him. And, according to Wikipedia: This song has also been ridiculed for the banal lyric, "The heat was hot". Randy Newman once described it as a song "about a kid who thinks he's taken acid". Ow, that’s gotta hurt!

Thought for today: “Sustain me with raisin cakes, refresh me with apples, for I am lovesick.” – Song of Solomon 2:5

You can't go home again

2006-07-30T17:13:00.000-04:00

Such a simple quote, really. It's hard to believe that a string of five very common words could become so commonplace a statement, so powerful a truth, as to be attributed to someone. Home. For most of us, the concept refers not to just one's present domicile but also one's home of the past, one's place of growing up, of developing, of seeking and finding, of reaching the age of (accountability, reckoning, Aquarius -- pick one). It's a place for which we hold unanswered yearnings, often hidden deep in our core until triggered by a memory or emotion. Then there is me, for whom the idea of home is connected only with the house in which I now live with my husband and daughter. Home is a foreign concept, an alien land, an imaginary realm that exists somewhere between the covers of the books that hold the chapters of other people's lives, not my own. It is (mostly) no fault of mine that I do not have a place called home, nestling deep within my past, to which my mind can run when I am tired, sad, frustrated, sick, or when I am asked that question that threatens to demolish the foundations of my mental faculties and turns me -- typically wordy and of careful elocution -- into a stuttering, stammering mound of d’oh: “Where are you from?”

My family (mom, dad, me) was quite mobile when I was growing up. I moved with my family when I was 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 11, 11 (yes, twice), 14, and 14 (see note for 11). Talk about always being the outsider at school… I moved on my own (more or less, counting to/from various colleges) at ages 17, 18, 20, 22, 23, 24 (to get married), 27, 32 and 33. These moves were between two different states (three, if you count a short stint at UNC at age 17-18) and several different towns within the northern regions of those states. I would hope, therefore, that one could see why the otherwise-innocuous inquiry of, “Where are you from?” strikes fear in my heart.

Which leads me to…Yesterday. I had the pleasure and privilege of attending a birthday celebration for my very favoritest uncle in the whole world, who is turning 70 on July 31. This was held at his church, which is in an area near where we lived during some of those tumultuous moving years of my youth. His wife is a teacher and had some friends from school there helping out. One lady, in particular, kept catching my eye and I figured out that I had gone to school with her in 4^ththrough 7^th grades. We were not really great friends at the time. This was a very tiny school in the country – there was one 4^th, one 5^th, and one 6^thgrade, so we were all together for 3 whole years. M. and I both liked the same boy all those years (yes, he was one of THOSE Adonis-like males who, even at 10 years old, could turn a roomful of 5^th-grade girls into a snarling, sniveling, taunting heap of hair pullers). I was really happy to see this lady, M., and re-introduced myself to her. I was ready for a “How exciting, imagine seeing you for the first time since 1978, let’s sit down, catch up on things, how are you, what are you doing, my your daughter is beautiful” (yes, she really is) sort of exchange. What I got was…cool. ???? Cordial, yes, but cool. I am not in touch with very many people (one hand’s worth of fingers) from my growing-up years at six different schools in two states, so I relish the few random opportunities I get to connect with those “lost” years. This was a blow to me and yet another reminder… you can’t go home again.

One thing I can do, though, is put on my rose-colored glasses as well as the next girl, thank you very much, so I decided that M. still harbors some ill will against me that could only result from her thinking, then AND now, that I was a more likely recipient of the affections of Adonis than she was (he did, after all, kiss ME at that party, not her that I’m aware of). So, how do you like THEM apples? Turns out, Adonis doesn’t like apples at all. I saw him a few years ago at an Elton John concert…with a guy.

My hope for today:

“God makes a home for the lonely.” – Psalm 68:6

“In My Father’s house are many mansions…I go to prepare a place for you.” – John 14:2