I know what you are thinking: Get a life, already, and quit blogging 87 times a day. I know! I'm sick.
There is a new ginormous phone directory on my doorstep every day of the week. Why is this? Who uses those things? They weigh at least as much as the Nester with wet hair (She's a size 2).
I threw away three from this county, and one from another county that I don't live in. Have I told you that I learned how to tear one in two with my bare hands? Mad skills, I tell you. I should recycle them , I guess. That would be environmentally responsible. Of course, not printing the foul things would spare a small forest. That would be environmentally responsible.
This is avoidance for me. Time to pay bills? Check the blog. Time to download photos? Post a few. Children in the other room? Check everyone else's blog. This is a disease. I need a 12 step program. Therapy.
Ugh. I need to do....something.
Monday, March 31, 2008
A very few photos
Here's a hodge-podge of imagery.Most of these are from the day that we went to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk.
If you ever woke in the night wondering what I look like without makeup on, why, this is your lucky day. Or un-lucky day, as it were.
Allow me to introduce my cousin, Johanna, whose name is a waft. She, herself is a great deal of fun. We ran like teeneagers thru the amusement park. Ate garlic fries (talk about a waft!) and even had a Mike's Hard lemonade.
Now, I'll spare you the bikini shots, because this is not that kind of blog. But, I can assure you that we were serious California beach babes. It was, like 60 degrees, and we were in the sand in our glorious figure baring bikini tops. Funny, no one really stops to oogle anymore. Not at me, anyway. Johanna and her 20-something-self was cute as can be.
I love this beach with all my heart.
And tell me, have you ever seen a more handsome man in all your life? He's married, or I would have snatched him up.
This is my Grandpa, and he has ruined me for all other men. No one is as wise, and kind, and energetic, and wonderful, as this individual.
And I get to stand next to him. Ain't I lucky?
Sunday, March 30, 2008
A close one
It is imperative that I read my bible every day of my life.
Being on vacation, we were sure out of our routine. I would stumble to the kitchen in the mornings, and find myself in conversation before I'd even had my coffee. Under normal circumstances, I read my bible as I drink that coffee, and certainly before I speak to another human being.
Without the Washing of the Word and quiet meditative prayer, I am a monster. Seriously! The mean and selfish tension in my head gets so noisy. It's like everything wicked in my heart begins to swirl within me, until I feel mean as a snake. It's then that I'd like to climb out of my skin. It's not just that I don't like myself, it's that I can't really stand anyone at all.
This morning, I was getting ready for church, and I had this prayer-ish talk with God. I said something like, " Ugh... we haven't talked much for a few days, and all that ugly in me is so loud that I couldn't really hear You, anyway. I'm gonna go to church now, so if you could help with cleaning out this mess in my head and my heart, I'd be much obliged." And you know what? He did.
There was music, and good old fashioned preaching. My inner swirling dirvish began to lose momentum. I can think again. Whew.
It got me to thinking about the sort of person I would be without this life of the Holy One within me. It would be miserable. That connection with Him is so crucial to all that is Good. I must work to maintain it. Otherwise, there is more potential for disaster in me than I'd like to admit.
Being on vacation, we were sure out of our routine. I would stumble to the kitchen in the mornings, and find myself in conversation before I'd even had my coffee. Under normal circumstances, I read my bible as I drink that coffee, and certainly before I speak to another human being.
Without the Washing of the Word and quiet meditative prayer, I am a monster. Seriously! The mean and selfish tension in my head gets so noisy. It's like everything wicked in my heart begins to swirl within me, until I feel mean as a snake. It's then that I'd like to climb out of my skin. It's not just that I don't like myself, it's that I can't really stand anyone at all.
This morning, I was getting ready for church, and I had this prayer-ish talk with God. I said something like, " Ugh... we haven't talked much for a few days, and all that ugly in me is so loud that I couldn't really hear You, anyway. I'm gonna go to church now, so if you could help with cleaning out this mess in my head and my heart, I'd be much obliged." And you know what? He did.
There was music, and good old fashioned preaching. My inner swirling dirvish began to lose momentum. I can think again. Whew.
It got me to thinking about the sort of person I would be without this life of the Holy One within me. It would be miserable. That connection with Him is so crucial to all that is Good. I must work to maintain it. Otherwise, there is more potential for disaster in me than I'd like to admit.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
M's birthday riddle
Tomorrow M will be 13. I have told him that we'll pick up his gift tomorrow after church. See if you can guess what he's getting with the riddle I gave him! He is sure puzzling over it!
Geometrically sleek.
A gift most mature.
Too big to carry.
Yours evermore.
It awaits your desire,
excites your dreams
And has nothing to do
with athletic things.
You will be surprised,
though it's something you need.
Just having it here
is bound to cause greed.
Geometrically sleek.
A gift most mature.
Too big to carry.
Yours evermore.
It awaits your desire,
excites your dreams
And has nothing to do
with athletic things.
You will be surprised,
though it's something you need.
Just having it here
is bound to cause greed.
Hate is a very strong word
Do you know someone who is bitter and angry and selfish?
I am so in danger of becoming that person.
You should pray for me.
I am dealing with a few difficult people/situations. I am in danger of becoming that which I hate.
Isn't that ironic?
I hate controlling, domineering, caustic, bitter people.
I hate injustice, selfishness, and lying. Self pity, too.
And it's just further injustice to find within myself these very sorts of horrors.
It's feeling very good to vent. May I continue?
Other things I hate:
Weak men who ought to be strong.
Overbearing women who ought to be meek.
Bread that has no flavor.
Static cling.
Lying gossips.
Poverty.
Sweet potatoes cooked with marshmallows.
So, now that you've gotten used to not reading this blog every day, I am going to start posting every random thought which enters my head, in an attempt to make up for lost time. So, get used to reading again!
Hopefully, after a good nights rest, I won't be quite so dangerously close to falling into horrifying character qualities. There's a lot to be said for sleeping well. I never sleep well in someone else's bed. Not that I do that often, but you know what I mean.
Perhaps I should post photos instead. I'll look into it.
I am so in danger of becoming that person.
You should pray for me.
I am dealing with a few difficult people/situations. I am in danger of becoming that which I hate.
Isn't that ironic?
I hate controlling, domineering, caustic, bitter people.
I hate injustice, selfishness, and lying. Self pity, too.
And it's just further injustice to find within myself these very sorts of horrors.
It's feeling very good to vent. May I continue?
Other things I hate:
Weak men who ought to be strong.
Overbearing women who ought to be meek.
Bread that has no flavor.
Static cling.
Lying gossips.
Poverty.
Sweet potatoes cooked with marshmallows.
So, now that you've gotten used to not reading this blog every day, I am going to start posting every random thought which enters my head, in an attempt to make up for lost time. So, get used to reading again!
Hopefully, after a good nights rest, I won't be quite so dangerously close to falling into horrifying character qualities. There's a lot to be said for sleeping well. I never sleep well in someone else's bed. Not that I do that often, but you know what I mean.
Perhaps I should post photos instead. I'll look into it.
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.
Well, then, you've been neglected.
Sorry about that.
Where shall I start? Oh, I know. I'll tell you about getting picked up on. Men usually don't hit on me. Not unless I haven't showered. They apparently dig that. I was in the wilds of Nevada this morning, on the very last leg of our road trip, when a nice man in a gas station bought my coffee. He opened the conversation by asking where my shoes were, on account of it was snowing and I was wearing flip-flops. He was kinda cute. He was also ahead of me in the line, and he told the cashier to add my bottled water and coffee to his bill. He also asked if I wanted breakfast, (these gas stations in the wilds of Nevada double as cafes). I declined.
We're home at last.
There's laundry goin'. There's bills to be paid. We need groceries. Catch up after a vacation is such a drag. Alas!
It's always good to come home, though.
I've missed you all.
Sorry about that.
Where shall I start? Oh, I know. I'll tell you about getting picked up on. Men usually don't hit on me. Not unless I haven't showered. They apparently dig that. I was in the wilds of Nevada this morning, on the very last leg of our road trip, when a nice man in a gas station bought my coffee. He opened the conversation by asking where my shoes were, on account of it was snowing and I was wearing flip-flops. He was kinda cute. He was also ahead of me in the line, and he told the cashier to add my bottled water and coffee to his bill. He also asked if I wanted breakfast, (these gas stations in the wilds of Nevada double as cafes). I declined.
We're home at last.
There's laundry goin'. There's bills to be paid. We need groceries. Catch up after a vacation is such a drag. Alas!
It's always good to come home, though.
I've missed you all.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
The value of Grandparents
I have been at a full sprint since arriving. What a vacation!
Monday we did the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, the beach, and also dinner in Capitola. Tuesday, we did the Golden Gate Bridge, Muir Woods, and Ft. Point. Today is a day to relax. I am living like a tourist!
I am getting a little sun, a lot of exercise, and terrific time with family.
There is so much beauty here, but so very many people. The ocean seems to me the very best of places to be. It's a wonder that I don't live near it.
We've kept such a pace, that I have hardly had time to think. There is so much here that I want to capture permanently in my mind.
This morning, Granny was telling me stories about her own Grandparents. They were musicians. A concert pianist and a concert violinist who made their living during the Great Depression performing at Barn Dances. This Grandmother was also an elocutionist; she taught people to do public speaking. This grandfather did roofing when he wasn't fiddling or violin-ing. They sound very resourceful.
This home is a happy one. My grandparents have been married for 59 years. They generate a great deal of peace and joy and love among those whose lives they have touched. They have, in fact, touched a great many people of the world. They have raised 3 amazing women. They have been incredibly involved in the lives of all 9 of their grandchildren. They have now great grandchildren; 12, I think. They have visited the world, and worked extensively in missions. They have shown Jesus to people in language that is both understandable and authentic. Their lives resonate with beauty.
I love them.
I am blessed.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
He is Risen, Indeed
Ok, I am so tired tonight from the long day of sitting in the California sun. The sunburn isn't too bad, really. It should settle into a lovely tan with a regimen of moisturizer.
We've been here a little more than 24 hours.
Yesterday, we drove from Winnemucca, NV to Saratoga, CA. We made really good time, everyone seems to prefer a swift pace on the highway.
The boys and I stopped at a Cabela's in Reno. You should stop there if you are ever passing through. Large, taxidermied animals are all over the place to delight and amaze. Plus, they have an old fashioned shooting gallery. Way fun.
This morning we got up and went to church with my grandparents. The sermon was about the resurrection of Christ, of course. One thing the pastor kept talking about was "light." Jesus being the light of the world, and so forth. Light within our selves, that sort of thing. It struck me that "let there be light" was the very first quote we have from God. It's an important thing, light. I've been thinking about that all day.
The pastor read the story from Matthew. I noticed that the men who were guarding the tomb actually saw the angel when Jesus was resurrected. I had never noticed that before. I wonder how that went over, when they mentioned the whole angle thing to their superiors?
Jesus will sure not be ignored, huh? You can love Him or hate Him, but you will be changed by Him.
After church we came home to family, and a very large ham. Jenn and Charles were here with the baby. He's a cutie! Auntie Margi and Uncle Ross were here. They're pretty cute, too, I suppose. And Johanna, which is a word that sort of disappears as a whisper. You know..J-o-h-h-h-a-.... Or, so she claims. All of these, plus Granny and Grandpa, and me with the boys.
We're a rowdy, laugh-y bunch.
Ross and Charles kept taking turns leaving the table to 'Google' random trivial points of discussion. Such as, "why are rabid animals so averse to water?" or "why are people with nut allergies, allergic to peanuts, which are actually not nuts, but legumes?" It was a rapid, random, and often trivial conversation. My favorite kind. My people here all know how to laugh. I love them for that.
Now, I am very tired. And a little sunburned.
And facing the very real reality of a week becoming a vacation in my past. It's already going by too fast.
Tomorrow the beach. Tuesday, some forest. Wednesday, I think we will have some down time and tea. Thursday is Margi's. Friday is Jenn's. Then home again. See? Moving way too fast.
Tonight...
My cousin, Jo, is spending the night here. That way we can get an early start for the beach. I am going to go have a glass of wine with her, and maybe some leftover ham.
Happy Easter, friends.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Checking in from the road
Reporting in from the Holiday Inn, live in Winnemucca, Nevada. Aren't I a dedicated blogger?
No, I did not gamble.
The boys are clearing out the complimentary breakfast. That alone is worth the price of the room!
The room had a TV, of course. The boys thought they'd died and gone to Heaven. That is a terrible invention! Seriously, I could step up on this here soapbox and give you an hour's tirade, but there's driving to do.
We are off across the wilds of Nevada.
We should arrive in Sunny Saratoga in time for afternoon tea. Granny and Grandpa do things like afternoon tea. They are very refined. Which reminds me of a story about creamer and an unsuspecting matre de. I'll have to divulge the details later....
See ya in Cali!
No, I did not gamble.
The boys are clearing out the complimentary breakfast. That alone is worth the price of the room!
The room had a TV, of course. The boys thought they'd died and gone to Heaven. That is a terrible invention! Seriously, I could step up on this here soapbox and give you an hour's tirade, but there's driving to do.
We are off across the wilds of Nevada.
We should arrive in Sunny Saratoga in time for afternoon tea. Granny and Grandpa do things like afternoon tea. They are very refined. Which reminds me of a story about creamer and an unsuspecting matre de. I'll have to divulge the details later....
See ya in Cali!
Friday, March 21, 2008
I swear!
It's a fine day to panic. In my wisdom, I have saved most of the work that needs to be done for the very day we are expecting to leave for the coast. Yesterday, I took a nap.
The boys are going to see one stressed out mom today, poor guys.
One of my girlfriends was talking about a stress attack she had, that involved a four letter word, and throwing things. In front of her children. Now, see, this is the kind of friend I can appreciate. All of you who pretend that you are always calm and kind, and you scrub your bathrooms twice a week, and finish all your annual curriculum, I don't relate to you.
It's the people who get real messy with life that I can trust. The sort who say, "I have no idea why God does things this way." It's the ones with all the answers that make me nervous.
Have you ever sworn, and thrown something across the room? Glory! Do you see how freeing that would be! Perhaps I'll budget that into my day, just to blow off some steam. I don't know what four letter word I could say. I would be too embarrassed, I think, to use one of those words. Maybe I could say "Damn!" That one's not too bad.
Did I ever tell you about the time I taught my kids to say "ass"? It was in conjunction with a bible story. We were reading the King James Version, because the language there makes me happy. (My children cut their teeth on King James and Shakespeare, just because I am kind of a freak that way.) Anyway, it was an Old Testament story. I don't remember which one. The characters in the story were off on some adventure, and they had to saddle their asses. SO, later in the day, when we needed to get ready to run errands, instead of telling the kids to get their stuff together and get in the car, I said, "Saddle your asses!" Which caused peals of laughter. And ad nauseum repetitions. They, my sweet christian children, would say it at the least convenient moments.
I learned my lesson.
Perhaps I won't swear today, after all.
We are off to California this afternoon. Well, Nevada, anyway. The trip is going to take us two days in the car. The boys are excited about staying in a hotel with a pool, playing at the beach, and hanging out with their great-grandparents. I am excited about hanging out with family, and also the beach. Frankly, I could do without the hotel bit. If I could take my own bed when I travel, I would travel more. Oh, and also, if I were rich, that would help.
I will blog so that you do not have to suffer through one day of unsatisfied curiosity. I will also take pictures, but you know how that goes.
Pray us a safe adventure. Saddle up!
The boys are going to see one stressed out mom today, poor guys.
One of my girlfriends was talking about a stress attack she had, that involved a four letter word, and throwing things. In front of her children. Now, see, this is the kind of friend I can appreciate. All of you who pretend that you are always calm and kind, and you scrub your bathrooms twice a week, and finish all your annual curriculum, I don't relate to you.
It's the people who get real messy with life that I can trust. The sort who say, "I have no idea why God does things this way." It's the ones with all the answers that make me nervous.
Have you ever sworn, and thrown something across the room? Glory! Do you see how freeing that would be! Perhaps I'll budget that into my day, just to blow off some steam. I don't know what four letter word I could say. I would be too embarrassed, I think, to use one of those words. Maybe I could say "Damn!" That one's not too bad.
Did I ever tell you about the time I taught my kids to say "ass"? It was in conjunction with a bible story. We were reading the King James Version, because the language there makes me happy. (My children cut their teeth on King James and Shakespeare, just because I am kind of a freak that way.) Anyway, it was an Old Testament story. I don't remember which one. The characters in the story were off on some adventure, and they had to saddle their asses. SO, later in the day, when we needed to get ready to run errands, instead of telling the kids to get their stuff together and get in the car, I said, "Saddle your asses!" Which caused peals of laughter. And ad nauseum repetitions. They, my sweet christian children, would say it at the least convenient moments.
I learned my lesson.
Perhaps I won't swear today, after all.
We are off to California this afternoon. Well, Nevada, anyway. The trip is going to take us two days in the car. The boys are excited about staying in a hotel with a pool, playing at the beach, and hanging out with their great-grandparents. I am excited about hanging out with family, and also the beach. Frankly, I could do without the hotel bit. If I could take my own bed when I travel, I would travel more. Oh, and also, if I were rich, that would help.
I will blog so that you do not have to suffer through one day of unsatisfied curiosity. I will also take pictures, but you know how that goes.
Pray us a safe adventure. Saddle up!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
La Game
M's first Lacrosse game yesterday was seriously fun. Have you ever seen this game? The boys are all padded up, like in football. They run around with long sticks that have little basket things on the ends. They have to use the baskets to pick up the ball, and to throw the ball. They score like in soccer.It rained, though. Like unto the days of Noah. I felt bad for the payers, because they were soaked to the skin, and had no shelter. D' and I huddled in the scorekeeper's tent.
I was wearing 2 winter coats. At the same time. It was cold!
No, we didn't quite win. The boys lost by one point in the last 15 seconds of the game. It was a nail-biter all the way.
I know that my pictures are dumb. Sorry about that. My camera works really great for up close, very still shots, with good lighting. Throw off one of those variables, and the pictures are no good.
My camera does not zoom. So, the picture of M' playing out on the field, he is the tiny speck in the center of the photo.
I forced D' to wrap up in this quilt. It belonged to
a stranger, which totally freaked D' out. He was alarmed that there were stranger cooties on the thing. I was alarmed that he was out in a torrential downpour without adequate clothing. Who would let their child out in the dead of winter without a coat?
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Who will bail me out?
Rejoice! And again I say "rejoice!"
Sleep is a wonderful thing.
Last night, I told the children that I was going to bed, and thereby off-duty. They needed to lock up, feed dogs, and see about getting themselves to bed. Maybe they did, maybe not. The house was in one piece this morning, either way.
If I could sleep 8-10 hours every night, I would be the most glorious person you every met. I would be cheerful, self-controlled, and energetic. You would hate me.
I had a conversation yesterday with someone I've never met. He was interviewing me over the phone for the job of babysitting his son. He asked me what I would do if his son didn't do what he was told. I explained that I was not real concerned about that since the child is 9 months old. The greatest discipline I could imagine would be smacking his hand if he reached for an outlet. So, he asked how I would discipline him as he got older.
Now, this really seems like a no brainer to me. If he defies me, I'll smack his sweet little diaper. Duh. The dad said that they really hadn't decided how they feel about that, and had I considered alternatives for discipline? My inner thought was, "Yeah, the alternative is that I smack the bottom without the diaper, or I smack the hand."
Smacking seems effective. Spanking is an art. My parents set a fantastic example for this kind of discipline. (Am I going to be arrested for discussing this?)
When I deliberately disobeyed my mother, she would send me to her room. There I had to quake in anticipation of her arrival. When she showed up, she would ask what me to explain what I had done wrong. Usually, I was pretty clear on that. Then she would bend me over her lap and smack my bum with a wooden spoon. Then she would hug me, and love on me, until my tears were gone. She'd explain that she was spanking me to train me not to disobey. That God tells her to do that, and that God disciplines those He loves.
My mother never, ever beat me. She never hit me because she wanted to vent her anger. In fact, I remember her frequently using that maternal cliche, "This hurts me more than it hurts you."
And you know what? I obeyed. She was consistent and strict. Her reward for that was a daughter who respected her directives, and was rarely a burden of bad behavior.
Fast forward to now.
I have followed my mother's example. It works. Both of my boys are absolutely secure in my love for them. They are likewise certain that bad behavior will be dealt with consistently and respectfully. They don't disobey much.
Speaking of the respect part, I think this is crucial. My children are never disciplined in front of others. The only thing others hear me say is, "Go to my room, please."
I know some parents who yell at their children in front of others, they demean and berate. They threaten and insult in an effort to coerce their kids into obedience. It doesn't work. The children hate their parents for it, and the parents lose all control. Everyone loses. Plus, it's downright embarrassing to watch.
The boys and I were talking about discipline yesterday. We were noting how babies don't need that kind of behavior modification. I think the reason is that they learn to receive care and love first. This builds incredible trust. It's only within a relationship of incredible trust that discipline is effective.
The reason children misbehave is that they can. They are allowed to. If you don't want them to be bad....don't allow it.
Respect, trust, love...and good, consistent spanking.
Sleep is a wonderful thing.
Last night, I told the children that I was going to bed, and thereby off-duty. They needed to lock up, feed dogs, and see about getting themselves to bed. Maybe they did, maybe not. The house was in one piece this morning, either way.
If I could sleep 8-10 hours every night, I would be the most glorious person you every met. I would be cheerful, self-controlled, and energetic. You would hate me.
I had a conversation yesterday with someone I've never met. He was interviewing me over the phone for the job of babysitting his son. He asked me what I would do if his son didn't do what he was told. I explained that I was not real concerned about that since the child is 9 months old. The greatest discipline I could imagine would be smacking his hand if he reached for an outlet. So, he asked how I would discipline him as he got older.
Now, this really seems like a no brainer to me. If he defies me, I'll smack his sweet little diaper. Duh. The dad said that they really hadn't decided how they feel about that, and had I considered alternatives for discipline? My inner thought was, "Yeah, the alternative is that I smack the bottom without the diaper, or I smack the hand."
Smacking seems effective. Spanking is an art. My parents set a fantastic example for this kind of discipline. (Am I going to be arrested for discussing this?)
When I deliberately disobeyed my mother, she would send me to her room. There I had to quake in anticipation of her arrival. When she showed up, she would ask what me to explain what I had done wrong. Usually, I was pretty clear on that. Then she would bend me over her lap and smack my bum with a wooden spoon. Then she would hug me, and love on me, until my tears were gone. She'd explain that she was spanking me to train me not to disobey. That God tells her to do that, and that God disciplines those He loves.
My mother never, ever beat me. She never hit me because she wanted to vent her anger. In fact, I remember her frequently using that maternal cliche, "This hurts me more than it hurts you."
And you know what? I obeyed. She was consistent and strict. Her reward for that was a daughter who respected her directives, and was rarely a burden of bad behavior.
Fast forward to now.
I have followed my mother's example. It works. Both of my boys are absolutely secure in my love for them. They are likewise certain that bad behavior will be dealt with consistently and respectfully. They don't disobey much.
Speaking of the respect part, I think this is crucial. My children are never disciplined in front of others. The only thing others hear me say is, "Go to my room, please."
I know some parents who yell at their children in front of others, they demean and berate. They threaten and insult in an effort to coerce their kids into obedience. It doesn't work. The children hate their parents for it, and the parents lose all control. Everyone loses. Plus, it's downright embarrassing to watch.
The boys and I were talking about discipline yesterday. We were noting how babies don't need that kind of behavior modification. I think the reason is that they learn to receive care and love first. This builds incredible trust. It's only within a relationship of incredible trust that discipline is effective.
The reason children misbehave is that they can. They are allowed to. If you don't want them to be bad....don't allow it.
Respect, trust, love...and good, consistent spanking.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
What I learned today
Apparently, if your brakes shriek when you apply pressure to them, that's bad. Mine only squeaked a little, and it was annoying. But much like the windshield wiper that flapped in the wind, I ignored the problem. Today, I got new brakes.
I took my car to the nice men over at Econo Lube. Love them. They replaced a couple belt thingys, too. Now I have new belts and matching brake shoes. Get it? If only my car carried a handbag.
I am now road worthy.
And who cares about the money? Money-shmoney. What's a few hundred dollars here and there? That's what credit cards are for. Right?
Other than that, I am really far from being ready to go on this trip. Like, cleaning? Packing?
I am going to bed about now. It's 8 pm.
I figure that sleep is really what I need. I'll be way more energized, and motivated, with a good night's rest. And also I will gorge myself on fewer chocolate chip cookies if I get some sleep. And also, too, I will get back to half caff coffee. Plus, my brain wave activity will be above my car's shoe size.
G'nite.
I took my car to the nice men over at Econo Lube. Love them. They replaced a couple belt thingys, too. Now I have new belts and matching brake shoes. Get it? If only my car carried a handbag.
I am now road worthy.
And who cares about the money? Money-shmoney. What's a few hundred dollars here and there? That's what credit cards are for. Right?
Other than that, I am really far from being ready to go on this trip. Like, cleaning? Packing?
I am going to bed about now. It's 8 pm.
I figure that sleep is really what I need. I'll be way more energized, and motivated, with a good night's rest. And also I will gorge myself on fewer chocolate chip cookies if I get some sleep. And also, too, I will get back to half caff coffee. Plus, my brain wave activity will be above my car's shoe size.
G'nite.
A New Easter Dress
It. Is. Alive!
I am still so tired that I amped up the coffee this morning. The whole haff caff thing is an attempt to drink less caffeine while drinking more coffee. I was over a pot a day for a while there, and that can't really be good for me. Today? Full Caff.
I am wondering if I can justify the expense of a new Easter dress. Remember when every little girl got a new Easter dress? I am perhaps the only person on the planet who loves to wear a dress with a hat and gloves. Dresses are hard to find, to say nothing of hats.
All the dresses that I see in stores look like polyester maternity smocks in vivid prints from the '60's. Is that pretty? Not so much.
Maybe it's time to rebel against fashion, and start making my own clothes. Did you see The Village? That's what I would do. Or better yet, Scarlett O'Hara. Only with more make-up.
I made my own bloomers once. They are full length, cotton eyelet, with slender blue ribbon around the ruffle at the bottom.
Yes, in case you are wondering. I have worn them.
God didn't give me girls, and I can't figure that out. It just seems like that would have been a brilliant outlet for my frilly tea-party self. The boys won't let me dress them anymore. For some reason. Perplexing, no?
It's no wonder they've turned into gun wielding, camo wearing, back-slapping sorts. They're like the ying to my yang, or whatever.
M' has his first Lacrosse game tomorrow night. He's very impressed with his own "mad skills." As in, "Mom, did you see my mad skills?" What I saw was a bunch of boys running with sticks, clobbering one another, and grunting. Are those your mad skills?
Boys are different from girls. Have you noticed?
They are not so concerned about things like showers. They are very concerned with how tough they are. How strong. How many Big Macs they can eat.
I doubt they want their tie to match my dress for Easter. Tie? I don't think they'll wear one willingly.
We've never really done Easter egg hunts. Instead, ever since the boys were little, I have done a scavenger hunt. First thing in the morning, they are handed a 3x5 card with a clue on it. When they were little, it was a picture, but now I can use words. That sends them to the next location, where they find a new clue. So it goes until they find their baskets, or buckets, full of stuff. Along the way, I leave little candies or toys. It's really fun!
M' was telling me that he's too old for that this year. I don't believe him. I am going to do it anyway.
What are your family traditions for Easter?
I am still so tired that I amped up the coffee this morning. The whole haff caff thing is an attempt to drink less caffeine while drinking more coffee. I was over a pot a day for a while there, and that can't really be good for me. Today? Full Caff.
I am wondering if I can justify the expense of a new Easter dress. Remember when every little girl got a new Easter dress? I am perhaps the only person on the planet who loves to wear a dress with a hat and gloves. Dresses are hard to find, to say nothing of hats.
All the dresses that I see in stores look like polyester maternity smocks in vivid prints from the '60's. Is that pretty? Not so much.
Maybe it's time to rebel against fashion, and start making my own clothes. Did you see The Village? That's what I would do. Or better yet, Scarlett O'Hara. Only with more make-up.
I made my own bloomers once. They are full length, cotton eyelet, with slender blue ribbon around the ruffle at the bottom.
Yes, in case you are wondering. I have worn them.
God didn't give me girls, and I can't figure that out. It just seems like that would have been a brilliant outlet for my frilly tea-party self. The boys won't let me dress them anymore. For some reason. Perplexing, no?
It's no wonder they've turned into gun wielding, camo wearing, back-slapping sorts. They're like the ying to my yang, or whatever.
M' has his first Lacrosse game tomorrow night. He's very impressed with his own "mad skills." As in, "Mom, did you see my mad skills?" What I saw was a bunch of boys running with sticks, clobbering one another, and grunting. Are those your mad skills?
Boys are different from girls. Have you noticed?
They are not so concerned about things like showers. They are very concerned with how tough they are. How strong. How many Big Macs they can eat.
I doubt they want their tie to match my dress for Easter. Tie? I don't think they'll wear one willingly.
We've never really done Easter egg hunts. Instead, ever since the boys were little, I have done a scavenger hunt. First thing in the morning, they are handed a 3x5 card with a clue on it. When they were little, it was a picture, but now I can use words. That sends them to the next location, where they find a new clue. So it goes until they find their baskets, or buckets, full of stuff. Along the way, I leave little candies or toys. It's really fun!
M' was telling me that he's too old for that this year. I don't believe him. I am going to do it anyway.
What are your family traditions for Easter?
Monday, March 17, 2008
Dying from caffeine deprivation
I am thinking about going back to bed....and blogging, instead. How are you this fine day? I am cold, sleep deprived, and grumpy. Thanks for asking.
I have no reason at all to be moody. The only explanation is that I am tired, and my wimpy half-caff coffee is not up to the task of generating brain wave activity.
This week is going to be a frenzy of activity. The boys and I have work to do in anticipation of our trip to the West coast. I need to hire a man to look under the hood of my car to pronounce my vehicle road-worthy. I need to clean and pack. And I need to farm out the animals for a week.
Why do I feel compelled to leave the house all tidy when I am not going to be here? Do you do that? I have to have it all kinds of clean, so that if I die, nobody has to wade through the mess. That, and I will have a pleasant environment to come home to.
Do you plan for your death every time you take a trip? I am always bracing myself for the death of those around me, and preparing for my own. It's a little macabre. I think about that. If I die on this trip, will mother be able to find my important papers? Are my files in order? Is the bathroom clean?
I do that when the boys go places, too. If M' is going away for the weekend, I always figure how I am going to handle the phone call which tells me that he isn't coming home.
I know, I know. It's not very ....cheery. For an optimist, I sure think about weird things.
I think it's because death has been within my scope of experience rather frequently. Not in a long time, though. That makes me think that the odds are running out.
My mother always says, "Everyone you know will either die before you, or they will die after you." The mortality rate for the human race is awfully close to 100%.
Look at me talking about Death and Dying... This is not what you pay me for!
Neither is it what I intended to write about when I sat down to type. See what a mind left untended can do? It goes a wandering all over in dangerous territory.
I am off in search of stronger coffee. I'll be back after my brain kicks in. Unless I drop dead. In which case, I won't be back.
I have no reason at all to be moody. The only explanation is that I am tired, and my wimpy half-caff coffee is not up to the task of generating brain wave activity.
This week is going to be a frenzy of activity. The boys and I have work to do in anticipation of our trip to the West coast. I need to hire a man to look under the hood of my car to pronounce my vehicle road-worthy. I need to clean and pack. And I need to farm out the animals for a week.
Why do I feel compelled to leave the house all tidy when I am not going to be here? Do you do that? I have to have it all kinds of clean, so that if I die, nobody has to wade through the mess. That, and I will have a pleasant environment to come home to.
Do you plan for your death every time you take a trip? I am always bracing myself for the death of those around me, and preparing for my own. It's a little macabre. I think about that. If I die on this trip, will mother be able to find my important papers? Are my files in order? Is the bathroom clean?
I do that when the boys go places, too. If M' is going away for the weekend, I always figure how I am going to handle the phone call which tells me that he isn't coming home.
I know, I know. It's not very ....cheery. For an optimist, I sure think about weird things.
I think it's because death has been within my scope of experience rather frequently. Not in a long time, though. That makes me think that the odds are running out.
My mother always says, "Everyone you know will either die before you, or they will die after you." The mortality rate for the human race is awfully close to 100%.
Look at me talking about Death and Dying... This is not what you pay me for!
Neither is it what I intended to write about when I sat down to type. See what a mind left untended can do? It goes a wandering all over in dangerous territory.
I am off in search of stronger coffee. I'll be back after my brain kicks in. Unless I drop dead. In which case, I won't be back.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Neither Shalt thou Gossip
One of my dear friends mentioned her current thoughts on Gossip just yesterday, so I fell to thinking about it.
I was wondering if it's gossip when I say good things about you behind your back. What do you think? 'Cause I talk about you.
Did you know that?
You ok with that?
Webster's Very Old Dictionary said that gossip is tattling. Like what the children do. That was helpful to consider. Children come to me to report the bad things that other children do, with the specific purpose of gaining punishment for the offender.
That's what I do when I gossip. I tell you the bad things that I know about someone, so that you will "punish" them by siding with me. So you will validate me by your agreement.
Isn't that ugly?
Why do you gossip?
It seems to me that I only need to gossip if I remove God from the equation. I'll tell you why:
If God is all He says He is, then He is perfectly capable of revealing a scoundrel. He certainly doesn't need my help.
Plus, God can validate and protect me way better than others can.
Is there ever a time to reveal someone else's vileness? Well, yes. But only as a last resort, and only to be done God's way. It's in Matthew 18 that we are told to reveal persistent, unrepentant sin to the church. It's only after we've confronted the offender, and brought witnesses also. But that's motivated by sorrow and love, not a desire to punish.
So, once again, it comes down to my heart. I really need to love people more.
I think that speaking well of others is a good thing to do. I can tell you true, uplifting things about people, and thereby inspire you to do the same. When I talk about others I guess I should be striving to reveal the beauty in them, to you. Wouldn't you just love to be talked about that way?
I have a few really close, and wonderful friends. These are people who can tell me ugliness they see in me. That's the kind of friendship that takes years to earn. I was wondering how I would feel if I found out that they had been discussing my flaws behind my back. You know what? I actually think I would be ok with it, in the sense that I know they love me, and pursue my very best interests.
Not may people love me in the way that gives me that kind of confidence, though.
Have you ever heard gossip about someone you love? That makes me really mad. Like a mamma bear protecting her cubs, I find that I get much angrier about that, than I do about hearing gossip about me.
Gossip is so damaging. So is persistent, unrepentant sin (which gossip, unchecked, surely is). I think that is why God tells us to remove such a one from our midst. If we don't, then the offending party will continue to cause damage, and those who desire to be right before God and man have no recourse.
Job said, "Set a guard, Oh Lord, over the door of my lips."
May it be so with me as well.
Amen.
I was wondering if it's gossip when I say good things about you behind your back. What do you think? 'Cause I talk about you.
Did you know that?
You ok with that?
Webster's Very Old Dictionary said that gossip is tattling. Like what the children do. That was helpful to consider. Children come to me to report the bad things that other children do, with the specific purpose of gaining punishment for the offender.
That's what I do when I gossip. I tell you the bad things that I know about someone, so that you will "punish" them by siding with me. So you will validate me by your agreement.
Isn't that ugly?
Why do you gossip?
It seems to me that I only need to gossip if I remove God from the equation. I'll tell you why:
If God is all He says He is, then He is perfectly capable of revealing a scoundrel. He certainly doesn't need my help.
Plus, God can validate and protect me way better than others can.
Is there ever a time to reveal someone else's vileness? Well, yes. But only as a last resort, and only to be done God's way. It's in Matthew 18 that we are told to reveal persistent, unrepentant sin to the church. It's only after we've confronted the offender, and brought witnesses also. But that's motivated by sorrow and love, not a desire to punish.
So, once again, it comes down to my heart. I really need to love people more.
I think that speaking well of others is a good thing to do. I can tell you true, uplifting things about people, and thereby inspire you to do the same. When I talk about others I guess I should be striving to reveal the beauty in them, to you. Wouldn't you just love to be talked about that way?
I have a few really close, and wonderful friends. These are people who can tell me ugliness they see in me. That's the kind of friendship that takes years to earn. I was wondering how I would feel if I found out that they had been discussing my flaws behind my back. You know what? I actually think I would be ok with it, in the sense that I know they love me, and pursue my very best interests.
Not may people love me in the way that gives me that kind of confidence, though.
Have you ever heard gossip about someone you love? That makes me really mad. Like a mamma bear protecting her cubs, I find that I get much angrier about that, than I do about hearing gossip about me.
Gossip is so damaging. So is persistent, unrepentant sin (which gossip, unchecked, surely is). I think that is why God tells us to remove such a one from our midst. If we don't, then the offending party will continue to cause damage, and those who desire to be right before God and man have no recourse.
Job said, "Set a guard, Oh Lord, over the door of my lips."
May it be so with me as well.
Amen.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Thou Shalt Not Complain
The unpacking is getting a little out of control. I have so much pretty stuff; have I mentioned this?
I want to display it ALL. My house is like one of those stores where they sell home decorating stuff, and you walk thru really slowly because every inch is an explosion of trinkets, and lace, and fabric, and frames. Oh, and weapons. And books, and teacups, and those big smelly candles. It's like one of those stores. I love it.
The down side to this profusion, is that it calls for a great deal of dusting.
There's another downside, which is that all this chaos in decorating means that any chaos in clutter is just over-the-top-overwhelming. The bottom line? My house is basically overwhelming. Kara! Come pack up some of this junk!
I have been hurtling headlong thru a very rapid passing of time. Have you had the same problem? April is in two weeks. That means we have... (how many?) shopping days until Christmas. Seriously! We are nearly at summer, then the school year again, and then holidays. I am only just now writing '08 on my checks. But summer is close, and that is something.
You know how I keep bragging about my whole weight loss pride? Well, I am wondering why I don't look better than I do. Could it be that I need to exercise? Or is it the age I am? It's very irritating. I am smaller, according to both the scale and the dress size, but I do not look 20. That was really the look I was going for.
I will soon be driving to California. Driving. I am afraid of this. There's bad guys out there on the open road. I am pretty sure my car will break down in the middle of nowhere, and we'll be killed at a rest stop, and our bodies will be consumed by some scavenger bird. Other than that, I am really excited about California. I am excited about being there, but not about going there, if you see what I mean. We will be seeing my Granny and Grandpa. Also my Aunt and Uncle. Also my Cousins. We have a wonderful family.
I need more coffee...
Errare humanum est
I want to display it ALL. My house is like one of those stores where they sell home decorating stuff, and you walk thru really slowly because every inch is an explosion of trinkets, and lace, and fabric, and frames. Oh, and weapons. And books, and teacups, and those big smelly candles. It's like one of those stores. I love it.
The down side to this profusion, is that it calls for a great deal of dusting.
There's another downside, which is that all this chaos in decorating means that any chaos in clutter is just over-the-top-overwhelming. The bottom line? My house is basically overwhelming. Kara! Come pack up some of this junk!
I have been hurtling headlong thru a very rapid passing of time. Have you had the same problem? April is in two weeks. That means we have... (how many?) shopping days until Christmas. Seriously! We are nearly at summer, then the school year again, and then holidays. I am only just now writing '08 on my checks. But summer is close, and that is something.
You know how I keep bragging about my whole weight loss pride? Well, I am wondering why I don't look better than I do. Could it be that I need to exercise? Or is it the age I am? It's very irritating. I am smaller, according to both the scale and the dress size, but I do not look 20. That was really the look I was going for.
I will soon be driving to California. Driving. I am afraid of this. There's bad guys out there on the open road. I am pretty sure my car will break down in the middle of nowhere, and we'll be killed at a rest stop, and our bodies will be consumed by some scavenger bird. Other than that, I am really excited about California. I am excited about being there, but not about going there, if you see what I mean. We will be seeing my Granny and Grandpa. Also my Aunt and Uncle. Also my Cousins. We have a wonderful family.
I need more coffee...
Errare humanum est
Thursday, March 13, 2008
So much for Purposeful Singleness
This daylight saving thing is a drag. I have been tired all week. It seems silly to me that one hour can cause me so much irritation. I can't fall to sleep before 11 pm. My alarm still goes off at 6. Very annoying.
I might be getting grumpy as a result.
Moody, is more like it.
So, when I get like this, I want to get married. I start feeling all wistful, and I sigh a lot. As if being married would help me get more sleep. To say it's silly is perhaps an understatement. I want a man to protect me (from what? I don't know), and love me (whoo hoo!), and help to parent my boys (my way, of course). He can pay the bills, and clean the house. Then I can blog all day to my heart's content. He will love me and cherish me, and I will live in a harbor of eternal bliss.
Whatever.
I was thinking about this again yesterday, about why I want to get married. It's an interesting question once I really think about it. All joking aside, my life is really very simple with no man involved. We've discussed this before, you and I. I appreciate the freedoms that I enjoy. My Independence is a privilege, and a blessing, in so many ways.
When I really answer the question of why I want to marry, it comes down to companionship. I want the couple-ness. (Well... and the couple-ing). But it's the partnership that appeals to me so much.
I really do not want to be involved in a bad marriage ever again as long as I live. But the idea of being in a good marriage holds a lot of appeal. I'd love to learn to function in tandem with a godly man. To grow old with someone whom I really like.
The times that I get distracted by this thought are different than they used to be.
I am ok single. I can do this for the rest of my life, one day at a time. God really is more than sufficient.
Ironically, I suspect that might just make me a better potential wife.
Ecclesiastes says something rather shocking about a women intent upon trapping a man. "I find more bitter than death the woman, whose heart is snares and nets, her hands are as fetters..." It goes on to say that a man who pleases God will escape from her.
I was thinking about what sort of woman this verse describes. Snares and nets are used to entrap an unwilling prey. She's on the hunt. The fetters are like handcuffs, or a ball and chain; they are restrains used to keep a prisoner from breaking free. How many women like this have you seen? I've seen quite a few.
I've even been one.
It's the plunging neckline, and the short skirt. It's the manipulative wording. Lust is the snare, lies the net.
There is a difference between being attractive, and being bait. An attractive women, I think, would exhibit a beauty that inspires a man to be a better man. Jenine the Wise was talking about this a couple weeks ago. She's smart about things like that.
A woman baiting her trap is tempting a man to be a lesser sort.
O, to have the sort of beauty which inspires men to be stronger, and women to be purer!
I might be getting grumpy as a result.
Moody, is more like it.
So, when I get like this, I want to get married. I start feeling all wistful, and I sigh a lot. As if being married would help me get more sleep. To say it's silly is perhaps an understatement. I want a man to protect me (from what? I don't know), and love me (whoo hoo!), and help to parent my boys (my way, of course). He can pay the bills, and clean the house. Then I can blog all day to my heart's content. He will love me and cherish me, and I will live in a harbor of eternal bliss.
Whatever.
I was thinking about this again yesterday, about why I want to get married. It's an interesting question once I really think about it. All joking aside, my life is really very simple with no man involved. We've discussed this before, you and I. I appreciate the freedoms that I enjoy. My Independence is a privilege, and a blessing, in so many ways.
When I really answer the question of why I want to marry, it comes down to companionship. I want the couple-ness. (Well... and the couple-ing). But it's the partnership that appeals to me so much.
I really do not want to be involved in a bad marriage ever again as long as I live. But the idea of being in a good marriage holds a lot of appeal. I'd love to learn to function in tandem with a godly man. To grow old with someone whom I really like.
The times that I get distracted by this thought are different than they used to be.
I am ok single. I can do this for the rest of my life, one day at a time. God really is more than sufficient.
Ironically, I suspect that might just make me a better potential wife.
Ecclesiastes says something rather shocking about a women intent upon trapping a man. "I find more bitter than death the woman, whose heart is snares and nets, her hands are as fetters..." It goes on to say that a man who pleases God will escape from her.
I was thinking about what sort of woman this verse describes. Snares and nets are used to entrap an unwilling prey. She's on the hunt. The fetters are like handcuffs, or a ball and chain; they are restrains used to keep a prisoner from breaking free. How many women like this have you seen? I've seen quite a few.
I've even been one.
It's the plunging neckline, and the short skirt. It's the manipulative wording. Lust is the snare, lies the net.
There is a difference between being attractive, and being bait. An attractive women, I think, would exhibit a beauty that inspires a man to be a better man. Jenine the Wise was talking about this a couple weeks ago. She's smart about things like that.
A woman baiting her trap is tempting a man to be a lesser sort.
O, to have the sort of beauty which inspires men to be stronger, and women to be purer!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Sharing my Vices
I have embarked upon a study of the book of Romans in the bible. This is our new project in house church. We finally finished the very long book of Isaiah, which was very long. Have I mentioned Isaiah's excessive length?
I've studied Romans before, but I am trying to avoid the commentators and notes from the last time I studied, so as to look at it from a fresh approach. I could spend a month on the introduction alone.
This morning, I was looking at the last verse of chapter one, and the first verse of chapter 2. Basically, it teaches in the end of ch 1 that if I sin and encourage others to also, that's bad. In Chapter 2, it teaches that if I sin, but pass judgement on others who do likewise, that's bad too. It's kind of a drag, because I am both an enthusiastic ringleader, and a judgemental hypocrite.
I suppose that admitting the problem is the first step, huh?
You're judging me, aren't you?
It's funny, if you think about it. If I'm going to get drunk, or gossip about you, I really don't have much fun doing either alone. Join me! And basically, I will either approve of what you are doing, or disapprove.
Both are wrong.
All this is a heart issue. When I applaud your sin, or pass judgement on you for it, you may never even know what I've done.
But God knows.
And I know.
The stuff in my heart matters so much. The way I think about others, and the way I treat them matters immeasurably. There's so much of relationship in all of this.
In Romans 1:5, Paul is talking about what he does as an apostle. He says that he has the job of showing to others a faith that results in obedience. This is the effect that we are supposed to have on one another.
What an effect that would be!
I've studied Romans before, but I am trying to avoid the commentators and notes from the last time I studied, so as to look at it from a fresh approach. I could spend a month on the introduction alone.
This morning, I was looking at the last verse of chapter one, and the first verse of chapter 2. Basically, it teaches in the end of ch 1 that if I sin and encourage others to also, that's bad. In Chapter 2, it teaches that if I sin, but pass judgement on others who do likewise, that's bad too. It's kind of a drag, because I am both an enthusiastic ringleader, and a judgemental hypocrite.
I suppose that admitting the problem is the first step, huh?
You're judging me, aren't you?
It's funny, if you think about it. If I'm going to get drunk, or gossip about you, I really don't have much fun doing either alone. Join me! And basically, I will either approve of what you are doing, or disapprove.
Both are wrong.
All this is a heart issue. When I applaud your sin, or pass judgement on you for it, you may never even know what I've done.
But God knows.
And I know.
The stuff in my heart matters so much. The way I think about others, and the way I treat them matters immeasurably. There's so much of relationship in all of this.
In Romans 1:5, Paul is talking about what he does as an apostle. He says that he has the job of showing to others a faith that results in obedience. This is the effect that we are supposed to have on one another.
What an effect that would be!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Needing a new camera
I had a fantastically productive day. Thanks for asking.After hanging curtains in my office, and making up a shower curtain in my bathroom, I began to unpack. I was going to move back in October, so Kara and I packed up all kinds of stuff and put in in the garage. Today, I began unpacking.
I have more boxes filled with pretty stuff than Martha Stewart on her way to jail.
I collect tea cups. And tea sets. Actually, most anything porcelain or crystal.
I collect lovely old bibles. And pretty old books. Also, new books. I am a library unto myself.
I collect book ends. Love them. Because...duh! Book ends go with books, doncha know?
I collect antique linens. Like doillies. But then, you knew that.
I also have a spastic camera that will not take still shots of inanimate objects. I managed only these two shots of all the pictures I took. The others looked like the mirrors and bookcases were in rapid motion.
So, that was all I really had to say. G'night.
An SLB, and a window
Mistreatment is sweeping the Nation.
Have you read the Nester's Blog? Go look in my side bar and go read.
Everybody's doing it.
She doesn't do window treatments; she does mistreatments, which I think is witty as can be.
And the thing? It's contagious.
Seriously, it's fatal.
Read her blog enough, and you will become a widow mistreater.
I bought upholstery tacks, which are very cheap at Wal-Mart. Then, I started in on the fabric.
It's too much fun. Next, I have to actually commit to hanging the fabric. I am so afraid of that commitment. I'll work on photos once I do that. K? Because I know you're all breathless with the anticipation of my glorious windows.
Also? I am now a size 6. You know how I was complaining about my low self esteem because I was all chubby? Now I am an S.L.B. This stands for Skinny Little B.......eing, or something like that. My friend, Kris, coined the term. My self esteem seems to have improved, aka, I'm insufferable.
Do you have any idea how motivating weight loss can be? Never mind that I was all lazy and overeating to gain 25 pounds in the first place. Now I am a model of self control and virtue. I have 3 pounds to go. Now that I am all bragging about my slender self, I suppose God will punish me with chocolate. There was that line from The Devil Wears Prada, "I am just one stomach flu away from my goal weight." That's just gross. True, but gross.
I hope your day is full of all that makes you happy. Do something to delight the people God has placed within your scope of influence. Wouldn't it be fun if we could go out to lunch and chat in person about all the wonders of our lives?
Carpe Diem, friends.
Have you read the Nester's Blog? Go look in my side bar and go read.
Everybody's doing it.
She doesn't do window treatments; she does mistreatments, which I think is witty as can be.
And the thing? It's contagious.
Seriously, it's fatal.
Read her blog enough, and you will become a widow mistreater.
I bought upholstery tacks, which are very cheap at Wal-Mart. Then, I started in on the fabric.
It's too much fun. Next, I have to actually commit to hanging the fabric. I am so afraid of that commitment. I'll work on photos once I do that. K? Because I know you're all breathless with the anticipation of my glorious windows.
Also? I am now a size 6. You know how I was complaining about my low self esteem because I was all chubby? Now I am an S.L.B. This stands for Skinny Little B.......eing, or something like that. My friend, Kris, coined the term. My self esteem seems to have improved, aka, I'm insufferable.
Do you have any idea how motivating weight loss can be? Never mind that I was all lazy and overeating to gain 25 pounds in the first place. Now I am a model of self control and virtue. I have 3 pounds to go. Now that I am all bragging about my slender self, I suppose God will punish me with chocolate. There was that line from The Devil Wears Prada, "I am just one stomach flu away from my goal weight." That's just gross. True, but gross.
I hope your day is full of all that makes you happy. Do something to delight the people God has placed within your scope of influence. Wouldn't it be fun if we could go out to lunch and chat in person about all the wonders of our lives?
Carpe Diem, friends.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Fighting
Conventional Church today was fantastic. This brilliant man, whom I've never heard before, taught. He was quick witted, very interesting, and had me on the edge of my seat. Why are not all teachers like that?
I was listening as he was teaching on faith. He was answering the question "Why does God save us by faith rather than by works?" I was impressed by something completely unrelated.
Here's the thing:
I have been learning some hard, and important, things about Thinking Truthfully, Setting Boundaries, and Purposeful Singleness. These are particular lessons that God has been graciously teaching me. They are areas in which I have an uphill climb.
Well, this morning in the sermon time, it hit me that the struggle is a big part of the process. My fairy godmother could wave her wand, and make me do all of these wonderful things. But, God doesn't chose to work that way. It seems that the struggle is really important. Having to fight for these lessons imparts value.
The victory is in a treasure hard won.
I like that.
The concept of fighting hard for something of value appeals to me greatly.
It occurred to me that fighting against my desire to be married, so that I can appreciate my completeness as a single, is the point. Instead of pursuing what could be, I pursue what is.
Or taking my frequently errant thoughts captive. This could never be done if they weren't prone to wander in the first place.
So recognizing the battle, and being willing to engage, this is a big thing.
Setting boundaries, is for me, a new way of correctly identifying what my priorities are, and eliminating distractions. I have to have opportunity to err in order to chose what is correct.
See?
The fact that I struggle, is not evidence of failure, but of faith!
I am struggling with the intention of emerging victorious.
I don't know what you are fighting within your own flesh. We all have those things. The fact that you continue to struggle builds some sort of spiritual muscle, I think. You grow stronger.
Be encouraged today.
Gosh, I am.
I was listening as he was teaching on faith. He was answering the question "Why does God save us by faith rather than by works?" I was impressed by something completely unrelated.
Here's the thing:
I have been learning some hard, and important, things about Thinking Truthfully, Setting Boundaries, and Purposeful Singleness. These are particular lessons that God has been graciously teaching me. They are areas in which I have an uphill climb.
Well, this morning in the sermon time, it hit me that the struggle is a big part of the process. My fairy godmother could wave her wand, and make me do all of these wonderful things. But, God doesn't chose to work that way. It seems that the struggle is really important. Having to fight for these lessons imparts value.
The victory is in a treasure hard won.
I like that.
The concept of fighting hard for something of value appeals to me greatly.
It occurred to me that fighting against my desire to be married, so that I can appreciate my completeness as a single, is the point. Instead of pursuing what could be, I pursue what is.
Or taking my frequently errant thoughts captive. This could never be done if they weren't prone to wander in the first place.
So recognizing the battle, and being willing to engage, this is a big thing.
Setting boundaries, is for me, a new way of correctly identifying what my priorities are, and eliminating distractions. I have to have opportunity to err in order to chose what is correct.
See?
The fact that I struggle, is not evidence of failure, but of faith!
I am struggling with the intention of emerging victorious.
I don't know what you are fighting within your own flesh. We all have those things. The fact that you continue to struggle builds some sort of spiritual muscle, I think. You grow stronger.
Be encouraged today.
Gosh, I am.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
True Love's Kiss
It's an overcast Saturday morning, and there's a day bursting with potential right before me.
I wish I felt more like staying in bed all day. Instead, I am thinking of chores to do and bills to pay.
The kids and I climbed up on my bed last night to read, and got into an interesting discussion. D' asked me a question.
He said, "Can I kiss a girl if I love her?"
Which is not really the sort of thing you want your 11-year-old thinking about, but whatever. Good question.
So, I asked, "What is love?"
I was particularly impressed with my own swift thinking on this occasion. Because, this looked like a teaching opportunity to me, and also rather a delicate one.
D' and M' spent a few minutes defining love. They talked about emotion. About how a person makes you feel. They talked about action a little bit, but the focus was on emotion and self. They differentiated among different kinds of love. Maternal, romantic, friendship, etc...
So, I restated the question with their definition, "It's ok to kiss a girl if she makes you feel good, and you have a fluttery heart? What about if she ticks you off?"
...."Then I might not love her anymore." Was the all-too-honest answer.
So, I opened up my bible to that over-taught chapter in 1 Corinthians 13. God's definition of love is there, and it worked beautifully into this discussion.
We applied it specifically:
If you love a girl, you will act with patience and kindness. You will be neither jealous, nor boastful. You will treat her with the best of manners, seek her best above your own. You will not be easily angered by her, and will think only the very most honorable things when you think of her. You will fight for what is true, and protect her from any sin. All of this, plus, you will be able to honestly promise that your continuation of these actions will protect and harbor her forever, without fail. This is love.
If you love a girl, then, by all means,
Son,
kiss her.
I wish I felt more like staying in bed all day. Instead, I am thinking of chores to do and bills to pay.
The kids and I climbed up on my bed last night to read, and got into an interesting discussion. D' asked me a question.
He said, "Can I kiss a girl if I love her?"
Which is not really the sort of thing you want your 11-year-old thinking about, but whatever. Good question.
So, I asked, "What is love?"
I was particularly impressed with my own swift thinking on this occasion. Because, this looked like a teaching opportunity to me, and also rather a delicate one.
D' and M' spent a few minutes defining love. They talked about emotion. About how a person makes you feel. They talked about action a little bit, but the focus was on emotion and self. They differentiated among different kinds of love. Maternal, romantic, friendship, etc...
So, I restated the question with their definition, "It's ok to kiss a girl if she makes you feel good, and you have a fluttery heart? What about if she ticks you off?"
...."Then I might not love her anymore." Was the all-too-honest answer.
So, I opened up my bible to that over-taught chapter in 1 Corinthians 13. God's definition of love is there, and it worked beautifully into this discussion.
We applied it specifically:
If you love a girl, you will act with patience and kindness. You will be neither jealous, nor boastful. You will treat her with the best of manners, seek her best above your own. You will not be easily angered by her, and will think only the very most honorable things when you think of her. You will fight for what is true, and protect her from any sin. All of this, plus, you will be able to honestly promise that your continuation of these actions will protect and harbor her forever, without fail. This is love.
If you love a girl, then, by all means,
Son,
kiss her.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Stripping
I have betrayed you most horrifically. You see, there was this incredibly blogable photo opportunity, and I was too lazy to seize the moment. And now you will not see the images which would so compliment this story.
It's all about M' and his hair color. That boy takes after his mother in the hair color department.
He went black not too long ago, remember? I am kind of a cool mom in this regard. And just this week he decided that the light colored roots were not attractive, and he wanted to go back to his normal color.
There's no going back. I thought we discussed this.
So, Jenine the wise, who is also Jenine-the-cosmetologist, and also Jenine-the-exceedingly-patient accepted the challenge.
She applied some bleach to M's hair on Thursday. Nothing happened.
She came over yesterday to more vigorously apply herself to the problem. She applied this stripping stuff that professionals use, and it stripped out a bunch of the color, though not at the tips. The result being that he had alarmingly light roots and black tips. Sort of an exaggeration of the original issue.
We contemplated a dramatic trim.
Jenine applied the stuff again, to the ends of his hair, and a better result was achieved.
Then, she had to bleach him.
His hair was an unnatural color after this. A sort of fluorescent orange. Very comical! Why was he not laughing?
The next step was a light brown dye, intended to disguise the glow until such time as more bleach could be applied.
Jenine is a patient, immensely talented soul, who faithfully corrects all of the hair color mistakes I make. She devoted herself for the entire afternoon, and a part of the evening to this! She is a saint.
I will never use cheap black permanent dye again.
I will never use cheap black permanent dye again.
I will never use cheap black permanent dye again.
It's all about M' and his hair color. That boy takes after his mother in the hair color department.
He went black not too long ago, remember? I am kind of a cool mom in this regard. And just this week he decided that the light colored roots were not attractive, and he wanted to go back to his normal color.
There's no going back. I thought we discussed this.
So, Jenine the wise, who is also Jenine-the-cosmetologist, and also Jenine-the-exceedingly-patient accepted the challenge.
She applied some bleach to M's hair on Thursday. Nothing happened.
She came over yesterday to more vigorously apply herself to the problem. She applied this stripping stuff that professionals use, and it stripped out a bunch of the color, though not at the tips. The result being that he had alarmingly light roots and black tips. Sort of an exaggeration of the original issue.
We contemplated a dramatic trim.
Jenine applied the stuff again, to the ends of his hair, and a better result was achieved.
Then, she had to bleach him.
His hair was an unnatural color after this. A sort of fluorescent orange. Very comical! Why was he not laughing?
The next step was a light brown dye, intended to disguise the glow until such time as more bleach could be applied.
Jenine is a patient, immensely talented soul, who faithfully corrects all of the hair color mistakes I make. She devoted herself for the entire afternoon, and a part of the evening to this! She is a saint.
I will never use cheap black permanent dye again.
I will never use cheap black permanent dye again.
I will never use cheap black permanent dye again.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Borrowing from a tiny book
Another exquisite morning seems to have presented itself.
Another pot of marginal coffee seems to have been consumed.
Another adventure seems to have arrived.
I was reading a booklet yesterday.
It is called a booklet because it is a very brief book.
Diminutive, even.
Tiny.
A book-ita.
It's by the author of Captivating, and really just an abbreviation of that topic, though in this one she is shaping her topic specifically to mothers. She calls it You Are Captivating.
You should read the main book if you haven't already. I'll put it on my "must read" list.
She points out that there are 3 things that a woman really wants, deep down it her heart-of-hearts.
Chocolate is not on that list. Who knew?
The author, Staci Eldredge, says that we want to be beautiful, to be in a grand adventure, and to be romanced. I think she may be right.
These things really resonate with me.
The beauty that she talks about is way more than make up and a prom dress, though those are nice too. It's beauty like a sunset, the sort of beauty that has power. A deep and abiding beauty that changes those around us, and gains appreciation for it's strength. I want that. I want those I interact with, to recognize that in me, and to be better because of it.
The Grand adventure is a no brainer for me. This life, with the God of Creation, is nothing short of a wind-in-your-face, crest-of-a-wave, hurtling through the most breathtaking story in the universe. That appeals to me. I want my story to be one worth telling. A story of biblical proportions!
And the romance... It's the wish we have as women to be pursued. Rather, to be worth pursuing. To be won, treasured, delighted in. You and I like the hero of our story to be that handsome prince. However, there is something deeper in our desire for romance that can only be met by our Maker. That God Himself values me, and pursues me, and has died to win my hand, is very romantic indeed.
In thinking about these things as factors in my own little self, I guess I'm inspired.
Aren't you?
Can't you just live differently with the knowledge that the desires of your heart are not only definable, but also attainable?
Do this today:
Live like you are in an important Adventure, with a key role to play.
Like you have a Beauty that those around you actually need.
And like God Eternal desires you more than words can say.
Another pot of marginal coffee seems to have been consumed.
Another adventure seems to have arrived.
I was reading a booklet yesterday.
It is called a booklet because it is a very brief book.
Diminutive, even.
Tiny.
A book-ita.
It's by the author of Captivating, and really just an abbreviation of that topic, though in this one she is shaping her topic specifically to mothers. She calls it You Are Captivating.
You should read the main book if you haven't already. I'll put it on my "must read" list.
She points out that there are 3 things that a woman really wants, deep down it her heart-of-hearts.
Chocolate is not on that list. Who knew?
The author, Staci Eldredge, says that we want to be beautiful, to be in a grand adventure, and to be romanced. I think she may be right.
These things really resonate with me.
The beauty that she talks about is way more than make up and a prom dress, though those are nice too. It's beauty like a sunset, the sort of beauty that has power. A deep and abiding beauty that changes those around us, and gains appreciation for it's strength. I want that. I want those I interact with, to recognize that in me, and to be better because of it.
The Grand adventure is a no brainer for me. This life, with the God of Creation, is nothing short of a wind-in-your-face, crest-of-a-wave, hurtling through the most breathtaking story in the universe. That appeals to me. I want my story to be one worth telling. A story of biblical proportions!
And the romance... It's the wish we have as women to be pursued. Rather, to be worth pursuing. To be won, treasured, delighted in. You and I like the hero of our story to be that handsome prince. However, there is something deeper in our desire for romance that can only be met by our Maker. That God Himself values me, and pursues me, and has died to win my hand, is very romantic indeed.
In thinking about these things as factors in my own little self, I guess I'm inspired.
Aren't you?
Can't you just live differently with the knowledge that the desires of your heart are not only definable, but also attainable?
Do this today:
Live like you are in an important Adventure, with a key role to play.
Like you have a Beauty that those around you actually need.
And like God Eternal desires you more than words can say.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
It's all in my head
Ah, it's Wednesday.
We all know what that means, don't we?
I have no idea. I thought you might enlighten me.
So far, it has meant that I read my bible in bed with hot coffee. Also that I read all my favorite blogs. If you have a few minutes, you should go over there--> to my sidebar, and read "Crossroads."
Crossroads is by my imaginary friend, Jim. Actually, Jim is not imaginary. He seems to be quite real, from what I can tell. It's my friendship with him that is imaginary.
Blogs do that to you. They make you think you are friends with people that you do not, in fact, know.
Jim has some good writing over there today. He's been doing that a lot. I am all interested in his life. The past work in Forestry, his kids, his wife, his thoughts on Scripture.
Blogs are the new Soap Opera. I am hooked.
On another tangent:
The Newsboys are coming to town. My goal in life is to win tickets to go see them. I saw them in concert last Summer at Creation at the Gorge, and I was all in love with the lead singer. Do you remember this? I came home and researched him like a groupie-stalker. I found out he was married, and so I ate a box of chocolates. But there's no law that says I can't go see them in concert again. Right? I love their music, I love how clever their lyrics are, and I loved the clear presentation of Truth. You know, plus, he's not too hard on the eyes.
That being the full extent of my morning's thoughts, I shall bid you a fond farewell for the time being.
Have a splendid Wednesday Experience, my friends (both real and imaginary).
We all know what that means, don't we?
I have no idea. I thought you might enlighten me.
So far, it has meant that I read my bible in bed with hot coffee. Also that I read all my favorite blogs. If you have a few minutes, you should go over there--> to my sidebar, and read "Crossroads."
Crossroads is by my imaginary friend, Jim. Actually, Jim is not imaginary. He seems to be quite real, from what I can tell. It's my friendship with him that is imaginary.
Blogs do that to you. They make you think you are friends with people that you do not, in fact, know.
Jim has some good writing over there today. He's been doing that a lot. I am all interested in his life. The past work in Forestry, his kids, his wife, his thoughts on Scripture.
Blogs are the new Soap Opera. I am hooked.
On another tangent:
The Newsboys are coming to town. My goal in life is to win tickets to go see them. I saw them in concert last Summer at Creation at the Gorge, and I was all in love with the lead singer. Do you remember this? I came home and researched him like a groupie-stalker. I found out he was married, and so I ate a box of chocolates. But there's no law that says I can't go see them in concert again. Right? I love their music, I love how clever their lyrics are, and I loved the clear presentation of Truth. You know, plus, he's not too hard on the eyes.
That being the full extent of my morning's thoughts, I shall bid you a fond farewell for the time being.
Have a splendid Wednesday Experience, my friends (both real and imaginary).
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Enchante
You know how some people talk and talk? How you can't even get a word in, and it seems like they are going to go on forever?
I am like that.
Just for those of you who have had to suffer thru that with me: allow me to offer a heart-felt apology. I am so sorry! Sometimes I can't seem to help myself. It's like I get all jazzed to be talking to a grownup.
The truth is that I realize what I've done before I'm halfway home. I am quite possibly more annoyed with myself than anyone else is with me. I want to be a winsome listener. The kind of soul who draws you out, and doesn't need to speak to connect. I am a failure.
Tonight we saw a movie. Enchanted. It is a funny movie that spoofs all fairy tales. The main character is me in a bad prom dress. I really liked the dress. She sings and is irritatingly sunshine-y.
It's a funny movie.
The princess leads most of New York in a musical number. The Prince thinks only of himself. There is a wicked witch, a glass slipper, a dragon, and True Love.
True Love's Kiss is central to the plot.
This is one of those concepts destined to derail me.
I am all determined to be a purposeful single. Right? I Kissed Dating Goodbye and all that nonsense. But, you paint me a fairy tale with True Love, and I am distracted for a week and a half.
Sigh.
Where is that knight in shining armor? Where is my dress? Where is the choreographed musical number?
Where is my audience?!
I am like that.
Just for those of you who have had to suffer thru that with me: allow me to offer a heart-felt apology. I am so sorry! Sometimes I can't seem to help myself. It's like I get all jazzed to be talking to a grownup.
The truth is that I realize what I've done before I'm halfway home. I am quite possibly more annoyed with myself than anyone else is with me. I want to be a winsome listener. The kind of soul who draws you out, and doesn't need to speak to connect. I am a failure.
Tonight we saw a movie. Enchanted. It is a funny movie that spoofs all fairy tales. The main character is me in a bad prom dress. I really liked the dress. She sings and is irritatingly sunshine-y.
It's a funny movie.
The princess leads most of New York in a musical number. The Prince thinks only of himself. There is a wicked witch, a glass slipper, a dragon, and True Love.
True Love's Kiss is central to the plot.
This is one of those concepts destined to derail me.
I am all determined to be a purposeful single. Right? I Kissed Dating Goodbye and all that nonsense. But, you paint me a fairy tale with True Love, and I am distracted for a week and a half.
Sigh.
Where is that knight in shining armor? Where is my dress? Where is the choreographed musical number?
Where is my audience?!
Monday, March 03, 2008
Diving into March
My boys each have a dog. These dogs each have their own crate.
Now, because I am a magnimonious dog owner, I allow said dogs to sleep in said crates in said children's rooms.
M' will occasionally let his dog out of the crate to sleep with him. I turn a blind eye to this. Usually.
This morning, I stumbled to the coffee pot to find that my kitchen floor was entirely covered in garbage.
Used coffee grounds, old wrappers, bad food.
I stood there momentarily, whilst my brain switched gears. Then, I turned on my heel and awoke a very bleary eyed boy. You're out of your mind if you think I am going to clean up after that horrible beast.
I did, however, need to mop after the bleary eyed boy stumbled back to his bed.
So, here I am, with a clean kitchen floor and Monday's sun peaking over the horizon.
The week doesn't look to bad on paper. Our main evening gig is Lacrosse practice. We've got that 3 days a week for a while. During the days, we have all that school work and house work that never seems to go away.
I would love to get out for a run, and possibly go the gym. I don't know if I really will, but it's good to have a goal. Swimsuit season is just around the corner, and something should be done. I always think I'm going to look like one of those sexy lifeguards as I patrol my children at Eagle Island. Delusional? Perhaps. But it's my optimism at work.
Have a fantastic Monday, friends.
Now, because I am a magnimonious dog owner, I allow said dogs to sleep in said crates in said children's rooms.
M' will occasionally let his dog out of the crate to sleep with him. I turn a blind eye to this. Usually.
This morning, I stumbled to the coffee pot to find that my kitchen floor was entirely covered in garbage.
Used coffee grounds, old wrappers, bad food.
I stood there momentarily, whilst my brain switched gears. Then, I turned on my heel and awoke a very bleary eyed boy. You're out of your mind if you think I am going to clean up after that horrible beast.
I did, however, need to mop after the bleary eyed boy stumbled back to his bed.
So, here I am, with a clean kitchen floor and Monday's sun peaking over the horizon.
The week doesn't look to bad on paper. Our main evening gig is Lacrosse practice. We've got that 3 days a week for a while. During the days, we have all that school work and house work that never seems to go away.
I would love to get out for a run, and possibly go the gym. I don't know if I really will, but it's good to have a goal. Swimsuit season is just around the corner, and something should be done. I always think I'm going to look like one of those sexy lifeguards as I patrol my children at Eagle Island. Delusional? Perhaps. But it's my optimism at work.
Have a fantastic Monday, friends.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
A stunning announcement
I am competetive.
Very competetive.
I suffer from an overwhelming need to win.
Yesterday I went skiing.
With a good skier.
I can get down the mountain without dying, if I go slow. In fact, near Spring, I feel pretty good about my skiing abilities. But this winter I haven't skiied at all, until yesterday. This means that I am alarmingly out of practice.
Now, do you think I told my sweet expert-skier friend that I need to get into the hang of it before tackling a large mountain? I did not. Rather, I followed where she led and cursed her in my mind.
The weather was horrible. There was zero (I mean Absolute Zero) visability because of the fog. The snow was falling fast and sharp, like shards of glass on all exposed skin. The wind was cruel. And there was powder.
Lots of powder.
I hate powder, because I have no idea how to turn in it.
So, in these conditions even the most basic runs were way over my head. I should have gone straight to the bunny hill until I felt confident. Did I? I did not.
And my friend? She was all smiles, and she kept exclaiming, "This is so fun!" and I would grimace and grit my teeth. She was so sweet, though. She would ski down and then turn to watch every wobble of my painful decent. Then she'd ski down a bit further, and watch some more.
Finally, I lost it. I had a full on break down. The poor girl never saw it coming. I was all angry and in tears and choking out eloquent speech like, "This sucks! I am NOT having fun. I hate this." I managed to both make myself clear, and make an ass of myself all at the same time. It's a gift.
She immediately bought me a drink. Hot Cocoa with Rumplemitz, which could make anyone's day. After two of those, and a bit of decompression, I was in a better mood. The clouds lifted, both literally and figuratively. The sun came out. And guess who was skiing better?
The rest of the afternoon was a complete blast. I stopped trying to compete, and started to enjoy what we were doing.
I have got to get over my need to keep up with everyone else. It's that need to compete and to win. It makes me a jerk, if you want to know the truth. Nobody else seems to care whether or not I am superior. I am the one who has something to prove. And where does that come from?
Very competetive.
I suffer from an overwhelming need to win.
Yesterday I went skiing.
With a good skier.
I can get down the mountain without dying, if I go slow. In fact, near Spring, I feel pretty good about my skiing abilities. But this winter I haven't skiied at all, until yesterday. This means that I am alarmingly out of practice.
Now, do you think I told my sweet expert-skier friend that I need to get into the hang of it before tackling a large mountain? I did not. Rather, I followed where she led and cursed her in my mind.
The weather was horrible. There was zero (I mean Absolute Zero) visability because of the fog. The snow was falling fast and sharp, like shards of glass on all exposed skin. The wind was cruel. And there was powder.
Lots of powder.
I hate powder, because I have no idea how to turn in it.
So, in these conditions even the most basic runs were way over my head. I should have gone straight to the bunny hill until I felt confident. Did I? I did not.
And my friend? She was all smiles, and she kept exclaiming, "This is so fun!" and I would grimace and grit my teeth. She was so sweet, though. She would ski down and then turn to watch every wobble of my painful decent. Then she'd ski down a bit further, and watch some more.
Finally, I lost it. I had a full on break down. The poor girl never saw it coming. I was all angry and in tears and choking out eloquent speech like, "This sucks! I am NOT having fun. I hate this." I managed to both make myself clear, and make an ass of myself all at the same time. It's a gift.
She immediately bought me a drink. Hot Cocoa with Rumplemitz, which could make anyone's day. After two of those, and a bit of decompression, I was in a better mood. The clouds lifted, both literally and figuratively. The sun came out. And guess who was skiing better?
The rest of the afternoon was a complete blast. I stopped trying to compete, and started to enjoy what we were doing.
I have got to get over my need to keep up with everyone else. It's that need to compete and to win. It makes me a jerk, if you want to know the truth. Nobody else seems to care whether or not I am superior. I am the one who has something to prove. And where does that come from?
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