My friend died today.
I'm not sure how it's possible to be grief-stricken and filled with praise and awe at the same time. But I am.
She leaves behind a husband, two small children, fabulous parents and loving in-laws, along with a sibling, her siblings-in-law, their spouses, numerous sorority sisters, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, neighbors, and a community that have all been blessed beyond belief with her presence on Earth.
I'm sure there was some part of her that wasn't a saint...I'm just not sure I saw it :)
She was brought home to her Father before any of us thought it was her time. It's hard to believe that I've come into an age where my friends and loved ones are going to pass away. It's hard to understand why God said her purpose was complete when we're left here to ponder why and how He chooses His way.
It's not reassuring to most, and it's the cliche to say that she's at peace now and she's no longer in pain. I know that's true. But selfishly, I wish that this hadn't been His plan for my friend.
However, I totally praise Him for the years I got to spend with her, for the lessons I learned this past year and almost a half through her about Him, and for the joy I feel knowing that she's there to greet me when my purpose has been met. How selfish is that?
I'm teased for saying that everything is fabulous and that "it's all good." I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my shock and my grief will heal. I have the promise and the faith defined in Hebrews that everything works to the greater good of God. I don't claim to always understand it, but I have it. He is good. And I will bless His name!
Blessed Be Your Name--Matt Redman
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
Lyrics totally taken off the Internet...I freely confess to not getting any body's permission to post them...somehow, I think it's okay :)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
This is embarrassing.
It has been eons since my last post.
I have missed blogging. There have been a million times I have wanted to race home and post something, but it obviously never happened. There are reasons...but they all come across like excuses. And I know/knew that once I begin posting again, it is a habit that will have to be fed. So it scares me to start again.
It also scares me, because what if nobody cares that I've off the blogosphere? And that in turn scares me as well, because then that means I may be posting for someone other than me...and that's not really the point either.
Finally, it scares me because I don't know where to begin. I think it's a little odd to go back to February--especially when that was so long ago that I don't remember everything that happened! Not that much has changed...although in a sense, everything has changed. Part of me thinks that this is supposed to be the here and now, and part me acknowledges that it is the past that creates the here and now.
Obviously I haven't become a better philosopher in the past 8 months.
While I haven't been posting myself, I have been lurking around other blogs. And that also didn't seem quite right. So I guess the fact that I keep thinking "I should really blog about this!" and "am I a Peeping Blogger?" have led me to conclude that it's time to return.
For one thing, it allowed me to keep my sanity many times. And these days, sanity is something that can't be overlooked.
So I'm (I think) back.
It has been eons since my last post.
I have missed blogging. There have been a million times I have wanted to race home and post something, but it obviously never happened. There are reasons...but they all come across like excuses. And I know/knew that once I begin posting again, it is a habit that will have to be fed. So it scares me to start again.
It also scares me, because what if nobody cares that I've off the blogosphere? And that in turn scares me as well, because then that means I may be posting for someone other than me...and that's not really the point either.
Finally, it scares me because I don't know where to begin. I think it's a little odd to go back to February--especially when that was so long ago that I don't remember everything that happened! Not that much has changed...although in a sense, everything has changed. Part of me thinks that this is supposed to be the here and now, and part me acknowledges that it is the past that creates the here and now.
Obviously I haven't become a better philosopher in the past 8 months.
While I haven't been posting myself, I have been lurking around other blogs. And that also didn't seem quite right. So I guess the fact that I keep thinking "I should really blog about this!" and "am I a Peeping Blogger?" have led me to conclude that it's time to return.
For one thing, it allowed me to keep my sanity many times. And these days, sanity is something that can't be overlooked.
So I'm (I think) back.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Dead Lobster
This evening we met my parents and my baby brother in Santa Fe at a restaurant to introduce my brother to the baby. It should be noted here that my bro is completely petrified of babies. He seriously has some sort of repellent in him...I don't know what it is, but prior to tonight, the last time we handed a baby to Bro, he pushed the baby out at arms length and held the baby by the baby's armpits for about a nanosecond, and then asked us if we could take "it" back.
So my whole goal of the evening was to catch "Uncle" Bro holding the baby in a photograph. I figure he'll be able to avoid holding her forever after this, and we'll have proof to the baby that at some time, Uncle Bro did hold her. Good 'nuff, right?
Bro took the baby and actually cradled her in his arms. I'm not entirely sure what happened next, because I think the brain will actually sometimes prevent oneself from remembering exactly what happened before a crisis. I know the baby was making some movement, and we'd been cracking jokes, and laughing so hard that most of us were practically falling off our chairs. I looked at my father, who was trying to cough through his laughter, and realized he was really red. I asked Dad if he was ok, and he shook his head NO, right as he began to literally fall off his chair towards my mother.
My mother has arthritis, and my father is not a small man. Mom pushed him with one hand back towards his chair as Hubby leaped from his chair to try to catch Dad. I said in a loud firm voice (I don't think I yelled it...Mom said later it was "textbook") for someone to call 911, and somehow shoved the stroller out of the way and didn't knock over my brother or the baby as I raced around the table.
You know how time stands still? Everything slows down to such a non-existent pace that you just suddenly see everything around you? The whole room of the restaurant was slowed way down. Strangers were shoving back their chairs with horrified expressions on their faces, and a man was suddenly behind my father with me on the side. I was contemplating how to lower my father to the ground because there was no way I could get around him for the Heimlich maneuver and I really thought he was choking on a crouton or something.
And just like that, Dad started to breathe again.
I don't think my mother will ever be the same. I'm not sure Bro will ever be the same. I'm not sure about Hubby either. In retrospect, I've always known that God teaches us lessons at all sorts of opportunities, and I learned that as scared as I may be, I will not just sit still...
We also learned that God always surrounds us. A while later, the man that had magically appeared behind my father came up to us and told us that he was with Santa Fe Sheriff's Department and recently became a chaplain--he told us that he was really glad he didn't have to use his training to help Dad...and we're all grateful that we didn't need neither his first aid/CPR training nor his chaplain services.
So while the restaurant had a family joke name before, it's a little too close to home now. And I'm pretty sure it'll be a long time before we enter its doors.
So my whole goal of the evening was to catch "Uncle" Bro holding the baby in a photograph. I figure he'll be able to avoid holding her forever after this, and we'll have proof to the baby that at some time, Uncle Bro did hold her. Good 'nuff, right?
Bro took the baby and actually cradled her in his arms. I'm not entirely sure what happened next, because I think the brain will actually sometimes prevent oneself from remembering exactly what happened before a crisis. I know the baby was making some movement, and we'd been cracking jokes, and laughing so hard that most of us were practically falling off our chairs. I looked at my father, who was trying to cough through his laughter, and realized he was really red. I asked Dad if he was ok, and he shook his head NO, right as he began to literally fall off his chair towards my mother.
My mother has arthritis, and my father is not a small man. Mom pushed him with one hand back towards his chair as Hubby leaped from his chair to try to catch Dad. I said in a loud firm voice (I don't think I yelled it...Mom said later it was "textbook") for someone to call 911, and somehow shoved the stroller out of the way and didn't knock over my brother or the baby as I raced around the table.
You know how time stands still? Everything slows down to such a non-existent pace that you just suddenly see everything around you? The whole room of the restaurant was slowed way down. Strangers were shoving back their chairs with horrified expressions on their faces, and a man was suddenly behind my father with me on the side. I was contemplating how to lower my father to the ground because there was no way I could get around him for the Heimlich maneuver and I really thought he was choking on a crouton or something.
And just like that, Dad started to breathe again.
I don't think my mother will ever be the same. I'm not sure Bro will ever be the same. I'm not sure about Hubby either. In retrospect, I've always known that God teaches us lessons at all sorts of opportunities, and I learned that as scared as I may be, I will not just sit still...
We also learned that God always surrounds us. A while later, the man that had magically appeared behind my father came up to us and told us that he was with Santa Fe Sheriff's Department and recently became a chaplain--he told us that he was really glad he didn't have to use his training to help Dad...and we're all grateful that we didn't need neither his first aid/CPR training nor his chaplain services.
So while the restaurant had a family joke name before, it's a little too close to home now. And I'm pretty sure it'll be a long time before we enter its doors.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Why I love to Travel--Cruising Addition
**So I totally wrote this eons ago, and never posted it! Sorry I'm so slow to post!**
When you get to be a certain age, there's something very comforting about unpacking in one place and having your hotel move to different locations rather than you doing the moving. There's something magical about having someone make your bed up for you in the morning, just to turn it down at night. And at any age, it's too good to be true when other people will not just cook for you, but serve you as much food as you can gorge on.
Last year I took a cruise with a bunch of women I didn't know and Kristin (see sidebar for blogs because I can't remember how to link things!). I survived the high seas, and told Hubby that rather than going to Disney World to have breakfast with Winnie the Pooh for my 30th birthday, we should take a cruise. The cruise was actually cheaper than Disney World (before the airfare to Puerto Rico and back), and we know we'll be taking a little one to Disney World for breakfast with Pooh soon enough. Hubby had never taken a cruise, and as last year was his first year seeing an ocean, this was a huge chance.
We thought about abandoning the cruise as we are hoping to have a little one come into the world and come home with us in a couple of weeks, but really, the chance to have one last blow out for the two of us, and one final kiss goodbye to the joyful days of my youth, was much more fun. So we left Thanksgiving Day for the big city to spend the night and catch the plane.
I've already droned on about the plane, so let's get to the airport in Puerto Rico. We landed after 10 pm their time (6 pm in Podunk) and discovered that the government must run the taxis in PR, as there is the tourism department that meets you at the airport and assigns the fare to you--no taxi meters. So we raced around Puerto Rico in the dark, noting everything listed in Spanish, and my trying to remember those many years suffering through Spanish class in high school. While they are a US territory, Spanish is primary, and most people spoke English, but there were a couple of times where someone translated for us to be sure we were going to get where we were supposed to get via the taxis. Anyway, we had a balcony view that we were not impressed with at midnight, and we fought to go to sleep.
The next morning, Hubby stepped out onto the balcony and discovered that we were with a block of pristine white beach and beautiful Atlantic Ocean, so we raced out to hit the beach. I, of course, didn't think we'd be out there that long--we were burned in no time. Go figure. So then we hit the ship.
The ship we were on was 13 decks, and held about 2300 travelers, plus I believe a crew of 900. We were assigned to the early seating, and our table mates were a fun couple from B.C., Canada celebrating their honeymoon, and another nice couple from Israel celebrating 25 years of marriage. We had 5 stops back to back and then a day at sea. Our first stop was St. Thomas, where we overslept that morning (thanks to the time difference!), but were fortunate enough to have the tourism department dude guide us to a lovely beach. We spent the day in the water and just loving the sand! St. Thomas was beautiful--definitely some place we'd like to go back, and would recommend.
The next day was St. Martin, and my celebration of another decade completed on the Earth. It was a traumatic day for several reasons. As you may have noticed, I was not excited about turning 30. I really had a ton of plans of things to accomplish in life before I turned THAT old, and I didn't do one doggone thing. So as we prepared to hit the streets of St. Martin, I was putting on makeup and checking for new wrinkles, when I found THEM. Nope, not new wrinkles--apparently gravity was being nice to my face that morning--but rather two very obvious, long, waving in the wind, white hairs right along my part. Are you kidding me? Was there not another day that these could have been found? So the day started off on a very sad note.
Immediately after taking the water taxi downtown, we were attacked by very pushy sales people for some resort community. Hubby and I have attended many speeches, and no, we don't have a time share any where, but I think we were so sleep deprived and sunned (not to mentioned stunned by the white hair!) that we didn't know what was happening, and we went...of course, the $250 offer for simply listening to the talk was promising, and the ones we've attended in the past actually did pay up what was promised. So we wasted a couple of hours walking around a timeshare and politely assured the salespeople that the place was lovely, and while we make an obscene amount of money, we spend an even more obscene amount, and couldn't afford it. They handed us a voucher for $250 towards jewelry that wasn't that nice and was WAY overpriced (as in, the cheapest thing there was like $600 so they'd make their money back because the piece was worth maybe $100). We did our mandatory souvenir shopping, and just went back to the boat.
The next day brought us to Antigua. We decided that rather than deal with pushy people, we'd just catch a taxi to a beach again. However, no taxi driver would take us without "a tour of the island" and the tourism lady chewed our rears for not wanting a tour because "everybody thinks only about the beaches and there is much more to the island." So we agreed to pay sixty bucks and take "a tour" of the island with a couple hours on the beach. The taxi driver was a very angry woman, and she was screaming into her cell phone as she led us and another nice couple from Canada to her taxi. She continued to bark things into her cell phone, and despite her heavy accent, we're not totally dumb, and could hear statements like "will this get me what I need? How much do you need? I'll give you $600--will that get it to me? Where should I meet you?" and then we pulled over in what was not the wealthiest part of Antigua and watched her hand a wad of cash to a male who pulled up in a dark SUV with tinted windows and she again asked if that would get her what she needed. We raced off to a beach and once we were on secure land, the Canadians and Hubby and I looked at each other and agreed that in our countries, this would have been considered a drug deal. That night we attended a mystery dinner on the ship, and were telling our dinner companions about the experience, and were assured by one that he had been offered drugs as soon as he was off the ship, and decided Antigua was not the place for him to go wandering. So, while Antigua was beautiful (once we got out of the "slums" from her arrangement with the man), we are a little jaded.
That experience lead us to agree that while we wanted to not spend oodles of money, and had therefore avoided the excursions through the ship, we needed something for St. Lucia. We booked a historical tour of St. Lucia, and the morning we docked there, St. Lucia instantly felt welcoming, warm, and friendly. We took the tour, and saw most of the island, as well got to attend a silk screening factory. I would totally go back to St. Lucia in a heart beat.
Our last stop was Barbados, and we booked a swim with sea turtles, snorkeling, and beach trip. Barbados was incredibly beautiful. We'd never been snorkeling before, and I ended up with nosefuls of salt water despite the mask, and the feeling that I was going to drown--weird, because I've been in oceans before, and I can swim, so I don't know what my problem was--so I only swam with the turtles for like 10 minutes. Hubby loved it. He swam with the turtles, he touched the turtles, he went to the "ship wreck" (barges that had sunk) and the reef...I think Hubby would have stayed forever if possible. It was very cool. We ended with a stay on the beach right next to the resort that Tiger Woods rented out to get married...and if I had Tiger Woods' money, I would so be there all the time.
We had a day at sea, and then returned to Puerto Rico. We planned to tour old San Juan and to see the forts, and to really make the most out of our time in Puerto Rico. Of course, I woke up sick that morning, and stumbled to breakfast so that I could say goodbye to the couple from B.C., Canada. They had made dinners such fun! I met up with them and a nice couple from New Jersey that were seated with Hubby, and the nice lady from New Jersey asked me when the baby was due. Now, keep in mind I'm sick, so the first thing I think about is that Hubby told them that we were waiting for the birth of our daughter the end of December. I had no idea why he would have told complete strangers about the adoption, but hey--we're excited, and we were on vacation. Nope, it turns out that because I'm FAT, and Hubby told the others I was having a slow morning because I wasn't feeling well, she assumed I'm pregnant. She recovered quickly, and I was so sick that I didn't even catch on to this until after we were off the ship and at the hotel. So instead of touring San Juan, we spent our last day of vacation with me wishing to die on a couch and then a bed at the hotel.
While we most likely will not cruise with this cruise line again (lots of hidden charges, not as inclusive as we'd been led to believe, and surprisingly, the food was no where near what I thought it should be--it didn't come close to the other cruise line for last year's cruise), we will definitely be cruising again in our future. For one thing, I'm getting too old to not be cruising :) For another, I like being catered to and to having a new port of adventure just around the corner. Of course, with a new baby, the next time I'm cruising will be for my 50th birthday...and I'm sure I'll then be looking for brown hair to surprise me.
When you get to be a certain age, there's something very comforting about unpacking in one place and having your hotel move to different locations rather than you doing the moving. There's something magical about having someone make your bed up for you in the morning, just to turn it down at night. And at any age, it's too good to be true when other people will not just cook for you, but serve you as much food as you can gorge on.
Last year I took a cruise with a bunch of women I didn't know and Kristin (see sidebar for blogs because I can't remember how to link things!). I survived the high seas, and told Hubby that rather than going to Disney World to have breakfast with Winnie the Pooh for my 30th birthday, we should take a cruise. The cruise was actually cheaper than Disney World (before the airfare to Puerto Rico and back), and we know we'll be taking a little one to Disney World for breakfast with Pooh soon enough. Hubby had never taken a cruise, and as last year was his first year seeing an ocean, this was a huge chance.
We thought about abandoning the cruise as we are hoping to have a little one come into the world and come home with us in a couple of weeks, but really, the chance to have one last blow out for the two of us, and one final kiss goodbye to the joyful days of my youth, was much more fun. So we left Thanksgiving Day for the big city to spend the night and catch the plane.
I've already droned on about the plane, so let's get to the airport in Puerto Rico. We landed after 10 pm their time (6 pm in Podunk) and discovered that the government must run the taxis in PR, as there is the tourism department that meets you at the airport and assigns the fare to you--no taxi meters. So we raced around Puerto Rico in the dark, noting everything listed in Spanish, and my trying to remember those many years suffering through Spanish class in high school. While they are a US territory, Spanish is primary, and most people spoke English, but there were a couple of times where someone translated for us to be sure we were going to get where we were supposed to get via the taxis. Anyway, we had a balcony view that we were not impressed with at midnight, and we fought to go to sleep.
The next morning, Hubby stepped out onto the balcony and discovered that we were with a block of pristine white beach and beautiful Atlantic Ocean, so we raced out to hit the beach. I, of course, didn't think we'd be out there that long--we were burned in no time. Go figure. So then we hit the ship.
The ship we were on was 13 decks, and held about 2300 travelers, plus I believe a crew of 900. We were assigned to the early seating, and our table mates were a fun couple from B.C., Canada celebrating their honeymoon, and another nice couple from Israel celebrating 25 years of marriage. We had 5 stops back to back and then a day at sea. Our first stop was St. Thomas, where we overslept that morning (thanks to the time difference!), but were fortunate enough to have the tourism department dude guide us to a lovely beach. We spent the day in the water and just loving the sand! St. Thomas was beautiful--definitely some place we'd like to go back, and would recommend.
The next day was St. Martin, and my celebration of another decade completed on the Earth. It was a traumatic day for several reasons. As you may have noticed, I was not excited about turning 30. I really had a ton of plans of things to accomplish in life before I turned THAT old, and I didn't do one doggone thing. So as we prepared to hit the streets of St. Martin, I was putting on makeup and checking for new wrinkles, when I found THEM. Nope, not new wrinkles--apparently gravity was being nice to my face that morning--but rather two very obvious, long, waving in the wind, white hairs right along my part. Are you kidding me? Was there not another day that these could have been found? So the day started off on a very sad note.
Immediately after taking the water taxi downtown, we were attacked by very pushy sales people for some resort community. Hubby and I have attended many speeches, and no, we don't have a time share any where, but I think we were so sleep deprived and sunned (not to mentioned stunned by the white hair!) that we didn't know what was happening, and we went...of course, the $250 offer for simply listening to the talk was promising, and the ones we've attended in the past actually did pay up what was promised. So we wasted a couple of hours walking around a timeshare and politely assured the salespeople that the place was lovely, and while we make an obscene amount of money, we spend an even more obscene amount, and couldn't afford it. They handed us a voucher for $250 towards jewelry that wasn't that nice and was WAY overpriced (as in, the cheapest thing there was like $600 so they'd make their money back because the piece was worth maybe $100). We did our mandatory souvenir shopping, and just went back to the boat.
The next day brought us to Antigua. We decided that rather than deal with pushy people, we'd just catch a taxi to a beach again. However, no taxi driver would take us without "a tour of the island" and the tourism lady chewed our rears for not wanting a tour because "everybody thinks only about the beaches and there is much more to the island." So we agreed to pay sixty bucks and take "a tour" of the island with a couple hours on the beach. The taxi driver was a very angry woman, and she was screaming into her cell phone as she led us and another nice couple from Canada to her taxi. She continued to bark things into her cell phone, and despite her heavy accent, we're not totally dumb, and could hear statements like "will this get me what I need? How much do you need? I'll give you $600--will that get it to me? Where should I meet you?" and then we pulled over in what was not the wealthiest part of Antigua and watched her hand a wad of cash to a male who pulled up in a dark SUV with tinted windows and she again asked if that would get her what she needed. We raced off to a beach and once we were on secure land, the Canadians and Hubby and I looked at each other and agreed that in our countries, this would have been considered a drug deal. That night we attended a mystery dinner on the ship, and were telling our dinner companions about the experience, and were assured by one that he had been offered drugs as soon as he was off the ship, and decided Antigua was not the place for him to go wandering. So, while Antigua was beautiful (once we got out of the "slums" from her arrangement with the man), we are a little jaded.
That experience lead us to agree that while we wanted to not spend oodles of money, and had therefore avoided the excursions through the ship, we needed something for St. Lucia. We booked a historical tour of St. Lucia, and the morning we docked there, St. Lucia instantly felt welcoming, warm, and friendly. We took the tour, and saw most of the island, as well got to attend a silk screening factory. I would totally go back to St. Lucia in a heart beat.
Our last stop was Barbados, and we booked a swim with sea turtles, snorkeling, and beach trip. Barbados was incredibly beautiful. We'd never been snorkeling before, and I ended up with nosefuls of salt water despite the mask, and the feeling that I was going to drown--weird, because I've been in oceans before, and I can swim, so I don't know what my problem was--so I only swam with the turtles for like 10 minutes. Hubby loved it. He swam with the turtles, he touched the turtles, he went to the "ship wreck" (barges that had sunk) and the reef...I think Hubby would have stayed forever if possible. It was very cool. We ended with a stay on the beach right next to the resort that Tiger Woods rented out to get married...and if I had Tiger Woods' money, I would so be there all the time.
We had a day at sea, and then returned to Puerto Rico. We planned to tour old San Juan and to see the forts, and to really make the most out of our time in Puerto Rico. Of course, I woke up sick that morning, and stumbled to breakfast so that I could say goodbye to the couple from B.C., Canada. They had made dinners such fun! I met up with them and a nice couple from New Jersey that were seated with Hubby, and the nice lady from New Jersey asked me when the baby was due. Now, keep in mind I'm sick, so the first thing I think about is that Hubby told them that we were waiting for the birth of our daughter the end of December. I had no idea why he would have told complete strangers about the adoption, but hey--we're excited, and we were on vacation. Nope, it turns out that because I'm FAT, and Hubby told the others I was having a slow morning because I wasn't feeling well, she assumed I'm pregnant. She recovered quickly, and I was so sick that I didn't even catch on to this until after we were off the ship and at the hotel. So instead of touring San Juan, we spent our last day of vacation with me wishing to die on a couch and then a bed at the hotel.
While we most likely will not cruise with this cruise line again (lots of hidden charges, not as inclusive as we'd been led to believe, and surprisingly, the food was no where near what I thought it should be--it didn't come close to the other cruise line for last year's cruise), we will definitely be cruising again in our future. For one thing, I'm getting too old to not be cruising :) For another, I like being catered to and to having a new port of adventure just around the corner. Of course, with a new baby, the next time I'm cruising will be for my 50th birthday...and I'm sure I'll then be looking for brown hair to surprise me.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Why I Love to Travel--Flying Addition
*The friendly skies
Complete with the "we're saving money so there's not even peanuts available on a 5.5 hour flight" and the "we may charge you for baggage...but there's not not enough room on the plane to actually carry on more than your purse."
Extends to the crying children that the parents forgot to drug, and the obnoxious people that inevitably sit in front of all 6'4 of Hubby and then lay their chairs back with a surprising bang. You know, Hubby and I don't lay our seats back...and the last time I thought about it, I checked to see who was behind me before I did in case they were tall.
*The incredible magic shrinking chairs.
I'm sure it has nothing to do with the expanding size of my rear end...especially after a 7 night/8 day cruise where I ate non-stop.
*Airport Security.
I'm sure I'm more secure now that my luggage has been checked by USDA--but not the open bag nor the purse I could have carried something in. I'm also sure I'm more secure now that I've shown my ID to one person and then my boarding pass to the guard less than 10 feet away and to another guard less than 5 feet from the last guard that is immediately in front of the xray machine and then finally to the guard on the other side of the metal detector. Seriously, this was the way we got through the airport in San Juan to come home. I also got to do the walk with my pants around my ankles because my metal belt set off the alarm--but Hubby's belt did not. And the buckles are the same size.
*In Flight Movies.
Is there anything better than watching CBS Eye on America on __________ before and after a seriously cheesy movie? I think not. I have now seen all the shows I have avoided and learned that there was a good reason I avoided them. Anybody out there seen "The Big Bang?" Enough said.
*The Delay Announcement
"We're delayed here folks due to a mechanical error. Once we figure it out, we'll get you on your way." Great. We'll locate the problem and then we'll ship you out of here on the same plane. It took an hour to locate the problem, and only 10 minutes to check the problem. So I could have sworn I heard every little bump, squeak, squeal, moan, etc. that plane made as we taxied down the runway and lifted off.
Have I mentioned I'm sure I'm going to die in a plane crash?
We obviously survived the flights to and from San Juan. Lots more to come about the cruise and how I woke up after 30 years on this Earth and was still alive! Some highlights to come include the birthday morning surprise, drug dealing Caribbean style, animals both on sea and...well, technically on sea again, and how to enjoy all of this while burnt to a crisp!
Complete with the "we're saving money so there's not even peanuts available on a 5.5 hour flight" and the "we may charge you for baggage...but there's not not enough room on the plane to actually carry on more than your purse."
Extends to the crying children that the parents forgot to drug, and the obnoxious people that inevitably sit in front of all 6'4 of Hubby and then lay their chairs back with a surprising bang. You know, Hubby and I don't lay our seats back...and the last time I thought about it, I checked to see who was behind me before I did in case they were tall.
*The incredible magic shrinking chairs.
I'm sure it has nothing to do with the expanding size of my rear end...especially after a 7 night/8 day cruise where I ate non-stop.
*Airport Security.
I'm sure I'm more secure now that my luggage has been checked by USDA--but not the open bag nor the purse I could have carried something in. I'm also sure I'm more secure now that I've shown my ID to one person and then my boarding pass to the guard less than 10 feet away and to another guard less than 5 feet from the last guard that is immediately in front of the xray machine and then finally to the guard on the other side of the metal detector. Seriously, this was the way we got through the airport in San Juan to come home. I also got to do the walk with my pants around my ankles because my metal belt set off the alarm--but Hubby's belt did not. And the buckles are the same size.
*In Flight Movies.
Is there anything better than watching CBS Eye on America on __________ before and after a seriously cheesy movie? I think not. I have now seen all the shows I have avoided and learned that there was a good reason I avoided them. Anybody out there seen "The Big Bang?" Enough said.
*The Delay Announcement
"We're delayed here folks due to a mechanical error. Once we figure it out, we'll get you on your way." Great. We'll locate the problem and then we'll ship you out of here on the same plane. It took an hour to locate the problem, and only 10 minutes to check the problem. So I could have sworn I heard every little bump, squeak, squeal, moan, etc. that plane made as we taxied down the runway and lifted off.
Have I mentioned I'm sure I'm going to die in a plane crash?
We obviously survived the flights to and from San Juan. Lots more to come about the cruise and how I woke up after 30 years on this Earth and was still alive! Some highlights to come include the birthday morning surprise, drug dealing Caribbean style, animals both on sea and...well, technically on sea again, and how to enjoy all of this while burnt to a crisp!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Not just about the woes
What a shame that I don't really stop often to list my blessings, but instead usually list my woes? I am for sure not good at stopping to thank God for my blessings. How lame is it that I'll be sure to list my blessings here, like a million other bloggers, on Thanksgiving, so that I will know where to find it? Lame or not, here goes, in no particular order:
*A faithful and loving God that holds me close
*Family that love me no matter how crazy I am, and that I love no matter how crazy they make me
*Warm cat bodies that know when to throw all 22 pounds on my lap
*Cold puppy dog noses pressing into me, and warm puppy dog tongues that HAVE to lick every available part of my body
*A hovel that provides shelter, no matter how it looks on the outside
*A steady job that I love, even when I don't love my co-workers...although I love them today--we just had pancakes!
*Knowledge that I don't have to work...I can always adjust my bountiful lifestyle
*A hubby that's willing to throw our money out the window to help me usher in the official beginning of my third decade on Earth
*Friends that have surpassed the friendship level and are now extended family
*Sisters that learn of my desire, and find a way for it to come true (hence the whole adoption!)
*The men, woman, and even my Kiddos that fight for my right, and for all Americans' rights, to be free every day
*Comfort just in seeing a police or fire uniform and knowing that they're protecting my home and those I cherish
*Family traditions that begin with Thanksgiving dinner and run through the holidays
Actually, the list goes on and on...and I will try to remember to share the good, and not just the bad.
*A faithful and loving God that holds me close
*Family that love me no matter how crazy I am, and that I love no matter how crazy they make me
*Warm cat bodies that know when to throw all 22 pounds on my lap
*Cold puppy dog noses pressing into me, and warm puppy dog tongues that HAVE to lick every available part of my body
*A hovel that provides shelter, no matter how it looks on the outside
*A steady job that I love, even when I don't love my co-workers...although I love them today--we just had pancakes!
*Knowledge that I don't have to work...I can always adjust my bountiful lifestyle
*A hubby that's willing to throw our money out the window to help me usher in the official beginning of my third decade on Earth
*Friends that have surpassed the friendship level and are now extended family
*Sisters that learn of my desire, and find a way for it to come true (hence the whole adoption!)
*The men, woman, and even my Kiddos that fight for my right, and for all Americans' rights, to be free every day
*Comfort just in seeing a police or fire uniform and knowing that they're protecting my home and those I cherish
*Family traditions that begin with Thanksgiving dinner and run through the holidays
Actually, the list goes on and on...and I will try to remember to share the good, and not just the bad.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Call me Sarah
Apparently, "90210" isn't the only thing that's around to make me feel like high school should still be going on. Neither is the sudden reappearance of NKOTB. Nope, gather a group of women together to plan an event, and all Hades breaks loose.
We're hosting a convention next June. I'm supposed to be a co-chair...although for some bizarre reason there are three co-chairs. This is a little over the top to me. Anyway, the "head" co-chair (which, really, if there's a "co," doesn't that mean that we share the same duties?) really wants to be the main head honcho, and I've been happy to let her run. We had some meetings, and I told her back in September about the baby, and assured her that it wouldn't interfere with my responsibilities. I mean, I have Hubby, it's not like I'm a single mother that won't have anyone to watch the baby. There are just shy of 60 of us women in the group hosting the convention, and apparently, just because you leave high school, doesn't mean that you can leave the drama behind. Nope, it's obviously innate in us that we all try to be the most popular, the one with all the news, the center of attention, the first to spread gossip, and the MOST IMPORTANT.
Seriously, I am the baby of all the women in all the chapters. I turn 30 next week. I don't need to be any of the above. If I can be a mature, responsible human being, what the heck is wrong with the others?
Our chapter needs to be the MOST IMPORTANT. That means we've seriously over-extended ourselves as a chapter and are doing a million things for the convention. None of this was discussed with the chapter--one or two or in one case, five, ladies made the decision without involving the whole group. And now we're all stuck, at a time when we're our busiest trying to support our sister with brain cancer, fundraise for her and organize the largest local Adopt-A-Family project in the community. Plus, our chapter had another large responsibility to all the other chapters before the convention was ever even a twinkle in our eyes. And I don't get why we feel like we have to do it all ourselves. I also know that because we made a commitment, we need to follow through. And yet, our need to be the MOST IMPORTANT is interfering in our sisterhood. This is crap.
The co-chairs besides me have butt heads for a long time. I'm usually in the middle, and it was not getting any better. However, apparently, in an effort to be the center of attention, one of them has allegedly decided to tell others that she thinks I cannot or will not handle my duties as co-chair. And in the others' attempt to stop it before it becomes gossip, they told me. So I called her on it. I mean, let's get real, it's not the time to nit-pick or pussy-foot around. Either you said it or you didn't, and let's have it, and move on. This, too, is crap.
And then the other ladies have decided to get involved, and apparently are calling others, who are then calling me to see what the story is, if my caller id is any indication. I'm ignoring the messages for now. Isn't this business known as gossiping? I thought that sisterhood was bigger than gossip. This is major crap.
As if there isn't enough drama in my life, I'm apparently not able to have a life of my own unless I get it cleared by everyone. God forbid I try to finish the home study for the baby. And heaven help us all if I dare to take a week off for a vacation. Even worse, how dare I plan to attend the birth of my daughter? I should have waited for written permission from all 60 people to be sure that my personal life was approved to coincide with the convention plans.
The convention isn't even for another 7 months. I don't think the world will fall apart if I leave for a week (well, it's more like 2 because I'm being shipped off to training tomorrow for 3 days and then it's Thanksgiving). However, apparently my decision to leave town for training and then for vacation has pissed off some, allowed others to make decisions for me about me, and had others decide that I'm not really important enough to be involved in meetings that can't wait 10 blasted days.
My mother must have been wrong when she called me Sarah Bernhardt...I'm nowhere near dramatic enough...I think others are giving me a run for my money.
We're hosting a convention next June. I'm supposed to be a co-chair...although for some bizarre reason there are three co-chairs. This is a little over the top to me. Anyway, the "head" co-chair (which, really, if there's a "co," doesn't that mean that we share the same duties?) really wants to be the main head honcho, and I've been happy to let her run. We had some meetings, and I told her back in September about the baby, and assured her that it wouldn't interfere with my responsibilities. I mean, I have Hubby, it's not like I'm a single mother that won't have anyone to watch the baby. There are just shy of 60 of us women in the group hosting the convention, and apparently, just because you leave high school, doesn't mean that you can leave the drama behind. Nope, it's obviously innate in us that we all try to be the most popular, the one with all the news, the center of attention, the first to spread gossip, and the MOST IMPORTANT.
Seriously, I am the baby of all the women in all the chapters. I turn 30 next week. I don't need to be any of the above. If I can be a mature, responsible human being, what the heck is wrong with the others?
Our chapter needs to be the MOST IMPORTANT. That means we've seriously over-extended ourselves as a chapter and are doing a million things for the convention. None of this was discussed with the chapter--one or two or in one case, five, ladies made the decision without involving the whole group. And now we're all stuck, at a time when we're our busiest trying to support our sister with brain cancer, fundraise for her and organize the largest local Adopt-A-Family project in the community. Plus, our chapter had another large responsibility to all the other chapters before the convention was ever even a twinkle in our eyes. And I don't get why we feel like we have to do it all ourselves. I also know that because we made a commitment, we need to follow through. And yet, our need to be the MOST IMPORTANT is interfering in our sisterhood. This is crap.
The co-chairs besides me have butt heads for a long time. I'm usually in the middle, and it was not getting any better. However, apparently, in an effort to be the center of attention, one of them has allegedly decided to tell others that she thinks I cannot or will not handle my duties as co-chair. And in the others' attempt to stop it before it becomes gossip, they told me. So I called her on it. I mean, let's get real, it's not the time to nit-pick or pussy-foot around. Either you said it or you didn't, and let's have it, and move on. This, too, is crap.
And then the other ladies have decided to get involved, and apparently are calling others, who are then calling me to see what the story is, if my caller id is any indication. I'm ignoring the messages for now. Isn't this business known as gossiping? I thought that sisterhood was bigger than gossip. This is major crap.
As if there isn't enough drama in my life, I'm apparently not able to have a life of my own unless I get it cleared by everyone. God forbid I try to finish the home study for the baby. And heaven help us all if I dare to take a week off for a vacation. Even worse, how dare I plan to attend the birth of my daughter? I should have waited for written permission from all 60 people to be sure that my personal life was approved to coincide with the convention plans.
The convention isn't even for another 7 months. I don't think the world will fall apart if I leave for a week (well, it's more like 2 because I'm being shipped off to training tomorrow for 3 days and then it's Thanksgiving). However, apparently my decision to leave town for training and then for vacation has pissed off some, allowed others to make decisions for me about me, and had others decide that I'm not really important enough to be involved in meetings that can't wait 10 blasted days.
My mother must have been wrong when she called me Sarah Bernhardt...I'm nowhere near dramatic enough...I think others are giving me a run for my money.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The "Master's" Teacher
It is so incredibly hard to put into words just what it meant to have to decide if it was time to put down our oldest four-legged child.
Thor was the puppy that nobody wanted. Classic story--Hubby and I were getting married in a couple of months, and Hubby wanted a dog. I didn't like big dogs, was even a little afraid of big dogs, but agreed that rescuing animals from a shelter was something we could definitely do. I owed a house (the same hovel we're in today) with a big yard, and because of my love for my then soon-to-be husband, we went to the Animal Shelter in Podunk. I found the dog I wanted--he was small, part Heeler, and cute as a button. Hubby kept pointing to this already large puppy with HUGE paws that was distinctly part Rot. I asked Hubby again about the small button cute puppy, and Hubby just kept watching the large puppy. The shelter manager, a co-worker of mine, advised us that the large puppy had been there so long, that if he wasn't adopted, he would be put down on Monday. This was late Thursday afternoon.
So Friday a friend and I went to Wal-Mart, and as I had never had a dog, and didn't know what we really needed, we bought random crap (we did know to get a dog bowl, leash, collar, food), and on Friday afternoon, the large puppy came home with me. Hubby had to leave town, but the puppy wasn't named. The puppy had already had multiple messes, and I have a thing for animals named after mythology, but I couldn't remember the name of the god of rain. Jokingly, I suggested Thor, god of thunder, because that usually was followed by rain. Hubby liked it, and thus Thor was named.
Thor grew to be an 80 pound dog, and was determined to be part Rot, part Doberman, and part German Shepard. Thor insisted on taking what we thought was forever to be housebroken...of course, he really just needed to be trained properly. Thor taught us all about patience.
Thor had to sleep so that one of us was within sight. The kitchen, downstairs, was linoleum, and therefore it was okay if he piddled there--not on my hardwood floors elsewhere. So many a night we spent taking turns sleeping on the couch so that Thor could see us. This was where I learned that loving something sometimes means stepping out of my comfort zone, and where Hubby learned that it was okay to stand up to his parents (we weren't married, and the thought of him sleeping at my house--when I was at work even--was a horrid thought). Later Thor would insist on sharing my twin-sized bed with me, and I learned that there's always room for those we love.
When the town caught on fire, Thor and the crew moved into my parents' house with me. Thor had a knack for believing that he was the one in charge, and that meant that Thor climbed into the driver's seat any chance he got. As the town was evacuating, and I raced from work to be sure my parents and animals were leaving safely, I'll never forget the look on my father's face as Thor sat in the driver's seat, waiting to take them out of the flames. Thor would then be transferred to Hubby, and Hubby's family, to wait for permission to return home. Hubby's father took a liking to Thor, and took Thor running. This is where I learned that my father-in-law had greater depths than I once thought.
I brought home a kitten, and Thor studious watched the cat carry the kitten, too little to go up and down stairs on his own, in her mouth. Thor proceeded to pick up the kitten in his mouth to transport the kitten around, scaring the bejeezers out of me. This is where I was reminded that it doesn't matter what we are--the need to assist and protect is in every one of God's creatures.
Thor loved to explore and would jump our four foot (five feet in some areas) fence in the backyard. Thor would wander the neighborhood, and all of the neighbors knew Thor. A good reminder that we should all know our neighbors. Once, while jumping the fence, Thor tore his ACL or a tendon or something in his knee. Thor was not even 3 years old, and we had to take him to an orthopedic surgeon for dogs. I spent a month taking Thor every week for a check up, and we spent a fortune for his surgery. I learned that money is nothing more than paper, life--and the quality of life--cannot have a price tag put on it.
Thor was fabulous with small children. He let children pull on his tail, his ears, etc. Children could climb on Thor, and Thor wouldn't even flinch. Thor was always careful about his kisses--Thor wasn't a licker. A lick from Thor was truly a kiss, a rare and precious experience. Thor had no trouble kissing children...a lesson that children should always be kissed.
With each new animal that came home with us, Thor lead the pack. Thor would teach the other puppies about going outside to do business, the proper way to wait to be fed, staying off the furniture...and he taught the last puppy about jumping the fence as well :) Thor walked proud before the pack, leading the way. Thor would even take the leash from us and walk himself. More importantly than leading the other animals, Thor lead us down a path we never would have known without him. Thor taught me to try new experiences, not to be afraid of something just because I always have been, that love is so much bigger than myself, and that there's nothing like a puppy dog to spoon with after a hard day.
In the end, Thor had dwindled to 46 pounds. It didn't stop him until the last two days of his life from jumping, running, playing with the other dogs, or chasing the kitten. And in his final two days, it didn't stop him from leaning on us, following us, and trying to do what he thought would make us happy. In his final minutes, it didn't stop Thor from gathering enough strength to walk--which he had stopped doing the last day of his life--to me and pushing his head into my hand. It didn't stop him from pushing his head up on Hubby's chest in a final hug. And that taught me that we never stop trying for those we love.
The hole left in me by Thor's death, the tears shed by all of us knowing that he had lost the battle for recovery from whatever was ailing him, and the pain that it brought to Hubby, are huge reminders of what we've lost. The lessons learned while being blessed to have had Thor as a family member for 9 years will never be lost.
Thor was the puppy that nobody wanted. Classic story--Hubby and I were getting married in a couple of months, and Hubby wanted a dog. I didn't like big dogs, was even a little afraid of big dogs, but agreed that rescuing animals from a shelter was something we could definitely do. I owed a house (the same hovel we're in today) with a big yard, and because of my love for my then soon-to-be husband, we went to the Animal Shelter in Podunk. I found the dog I wanted--he was small, part Heeler, and cute as a button. Hubby kept pointing to this already large puppy with HUGE paws that was distinctly part Rot. I asked Hubby again about the small button cute puppy, and Hubby just kept watching the large puppy. The shelter manager, a co-worker of mine, advised us that the large puppy had been there so long, that if he wasn't adopted, he would be put down on Monday. This was late Thursday afternoon.
So Friday a friend and I went to Wal-Mart, and as I had never had a dog, and didn't know what we really needed, we bought random crap (we did know to get a dog bowl, leash, collar, food), and on Friday afternoon, the large puppy came home with me. Hubby had to leave town, but the puppy wasn't named. The puppy had already had multiple messes, and I have a thing for animals named after mythology, but I couldn't remember the name of the god of rain. Jokingly, I suggested Thor, god of thunder, because that usually was followed by rain. Hubby liked it, and thus Thor was named.
Thor grew to be an 80 pound dog, and was determined to be part Rot, part Doberman, and part German Shepard. Thor insisted on taking what we thought was forever to be housebroken...of course, he really just needed to be trained properly. Thor taught us all about patience.
Thor had to sleep so that one of us was within sight. The kitchen, downstairs, was linoleum, and therefore it was okay if he piddled there--not on my hardwood floors elsewhere. So many a night we spent taking turns sleeping on the couch so that Thor could see us. This was where I learned that loving something sometimes means stepping out of my comfort zone, and where Hubby learned that it was okay to stand up to his parents (we weren't married, and the thought of him sleeping at my house--when I was at work even--was a horrid thought). Later Thor would insist on sharing my twin-sized bed with me, and I learned that there's always room for those we love.
When the town caught on fire, Thor and the crew moved into my parents' house with me. Thor had a knack for believing that he was the one in charge, and that meant that Thor climbed into the driver's seat any chance he got. As the town was evacuating, and I raced from work to be sure my parents and animals were leaving safely, I'll never forget the look on my father's face as Thor sat in the driver's seat, waiting to take them out of the flames. Thor would then be transferred to Hubby, and Hubby's family, to wait for permission to return home. Hubby's father took a liking to Thor, and took Thor running. This is where I learned that my father-in-law had greater depths than I once thought.
I brought home a kitten, and Thor studious watched the cat carry the kitten, too little to go up and down stairs on his own, in her mouth. Thor proceeded to pick up the kitten in his mouth to transport the kitten around, scaring the bejeezers out of me. This is where I was reminded that it doesn't matter what we are--the need to assist and protect is in every one of God's creatures.
Thor loved to explore and would jump our four foot (five feet in some areas) fence in the backyard. Thor would wander the neighborhood, and all of the neighbors knew Thor. A good reminder that we should all know our neighbors. Once, while jumping the fence, Thor tore his ACL or a tendon or something in his knee. Thor was not even 3 years old, and we had to take him to an orthopedic surgeon for dogs. I spent a month taking Thor every week for a check up, and we spent a fortune for his surgery. I learned that money is nothing more than paper, life--and the quality of life--cannot have a price tag put on it.
Thor was fabulous with small children. He let children pull on his tail, his ears, etc. Children could climb on Thor, and Thor wouldn't even flinch. Thor was always careful about his kisses--Thor wasn't a licker. A lick from Thor was truly a kiss, a rare and precious experience. Thor had no trouble kissing children...a lesson that children should always be kissed.
With each new animal that came home with us, Thor lead the pack. Thor would teach the other puppies about going outside to do business, the proper way to wait to be fed, staying off the furniture...and he taught the last puppy about jumping the fence as well :) Thor walked proud before the pack, leading the way. Thor would even take the leash from us and walk himself. More importantly than leading the other animals, Thor lead us down a path we never would have known without him. Thor taught me to try new experiences, not to be afraid of something just because I always have been, that love is so much bigger than myself, and that there's nothing like a puppy dog to spoon with after a hard day.
In the end, Thor had dwindled to 46 pounds. It didn't stop him until the last two days of his life from jumping, running, playing with the other dogs, or chasing the kitten. And in his final two days, it didn't stop him from leaning on us, following us, and trying to do what he thought would make us happy. In his final minutes, it didn't stop Thor from gathering enough strength to walk--which he had stopped doing the last day of his life--to me and pushing his head into my hand. It didn't stop him from pushing his head up on Hubby's chest in a final hug. And that taught me that we never stop trying for those we love.
The hole left in me by Thor's death, the tears shed by all of us knowing that he had lost the battle for recovery from whatever was ailing him, and the pain that it brought to Hubby, are huge reminders of what we've lost. The lessons learned while being blessed to have had Thor as a family member for 9 years will never be lost.
Monday, November 3, 2008
I am WOMAN
Hear me roar.
This weekend Hubby was out of town helping his sister pack to move. I was a free woman to take a bubble bath, lounge around, bake up a storm for a bake sale, read some novels, and watch a few movies. Around work, of course.
So instead I decided to become an adult. A situation presented itself, and it was time to see if I was going to remain a little girl or become a WOMAN. It was something that would separate the child from the grown up.
It was a dead mouse.
I cannot believe that it is 65 or so degrees and November. I stupidly assumed it was too warm for us to have mice, and so I let Hubby leave the state. Remember how I am with Mickey? If I had any idea, I probably would have forbid him to leave. Instead, I decided to be unselfish and to ship him to Colorado to be with his family. You know, the one that hates me? It was kismet, as there was a lesson to be learned.
I walked in the front door, and froze. There it lay, between the loveseat and couch, blocking the doorway to the kitchen, with the kitten's paw poised above it. I had my arms full, and rather than dropping everything and leaping onto the couch or armchair, I calmly (okay, so I was shaking and goosebumps were up and tears began to fill my eyes in fear) put down my stuff, and told the cat "NO!" and considered my options. I could spend the weekend going outside the front door and around the backyard to get in the back door to the kitchen/dining room every time I wanted something. I could call Hubby and demand he steal a car from his family and race down to Podunk (a 6 hour drive) and rescue me. I could cry and call my mommy. I could demand my father save me. Or I could face up to my responsibilities. I stepped over the body.
The little eye that was facing me stared up. I did not feel for breath or a pulse--I'm not about to be THAT grown up and adult. I simply backed away from him/her/it and into the kitchen. There was no way I was going to touch the thing, so I had formulated a plan that involved gathering a bunch of plastic groceries bags and that would be squishy enough that I wouldn't know if it was the body or the bags. I returned to the scene of the murder and I put the bunched up bags over the body. I then took the plunge and grabbed quickly, making the mistake of turning it upright as I raised the body and bags towards me to put it in another bag (hey, field mice have deadly diseases around here...one couldn't have too many bags!). The little body was still warm enough that his/her/its body folded. Gross, but I have to explain how close I was to squealing and dropping the doggone thing.
Worse still was it's little body folded and the eye moved, so I was suddenly convinced it was still alive. How I would have dealt with that, I don't know. That's apparently another lesson for another day. So I put the mouse in the other bag, double tied it and raced down the front steps to the garbage can.
I still pass over the scene of the crime every time I walk into the kitchen and imagine that little body. It's not a morbid or gross thing (thank God the cats don't ever eat the mice, they just leave them as they were when they passed on). The big cat climbed into my lap promptly after the short trip to the garbage can with the body bag, and meowed at me softly. My response? A loud ROAR back and a "thank you, fat cat." I passed the test.
Who knew it took a dead mouse to make me a woman?
This weekend Hubby was out of town helping his sister pack to move. I was a free woman to take a bubble bath, lounge around, bake up a storm for a bake sale, read some novels, and watch a few movies. Around work, of course.
So instead I decided to become an adult. A situation presented itself, and it was time to see if I was going to remain a little girl or become a WOMAN. It was something that would separate the child from the grown up.
It was a dead mouse.
I cannot believe that it is 65 or so degrees and November. I stupidly assumed it was too warm for us to have mice, and so I let Hubby leave the state. Remember how I am with Mickey? If I had any idea, I probably would have forbid him to leave. Instead, I decided to be unselfish and to ship him to Colorado to be with his family. You know, the one that hates me? It was kismet, as there was a lesson to be learned.
I walked in the front door, and froze. There it lay, between the loveseat and couch, blocking the doorway to the kitchen, with the kitten's paw poised above it. I had my arms full, and rather than dropping everything and leaping onto the couch or armchair, I calmly (okay, so I was shaking and goosebumps were up and tears began to fill my eyes in fear) put down my stuff, and told the cat "NO!" and considered my options. I could spend the weekend going outside the front door and around the backyard to get in the back door to the kitchen/dining room every time I wanted something. I could call Hubby and demand he steal a car from his family and race down to Podunk (a 6 hour drive) and rescue me. I could cry and call my mommy. I could demand my father save me. Or I could face up to my responsibilities. I stepped over the body.
The little eye that was facing me stared up. I did not feel for breath or a pulse--I'm not about to be THAT grown up and adult. I simply backed away from him/her/it and into the kitchen. There was no way I was going to touch the thing, so I had formulated a plan that involved gathering a bunch of plastic groceries bags and that would be squishy enough that I wouldn't know if it was the body or the bags. I returned to the scene of the murder and I put the bunched up bags over the body. I then took the plunge and grabbed quickly, making the mistake of turning it upright as I raised the body and bags towards me to put it in another bag (hey, field mice have deadly diseases around here...one couldn't have too many bags!). The little body was still warm enough that his/her/its body folded. Gross, but I have to explain how close I was to squealing and dropping the doggone thing.
Worse still was it's little body folded and the eye moved, so I was suddenly convinced it was still alive. How I would have dealt with that, I don't know. That's apparently another lesson for another day. So I put the mouse in the other bag, double tied it and raced down the front steps to the garbage can.
I still pass over the scene of the crime every time I walk into the kitchen and imagine that little body. It's not a morbid or gross thing (thank God the cats don't ever eat the mice, they just leave them as they were when they passed on). The big cat climbed into my lap promptly after the short trip to the garbage can with the body bag, and meowed at me softly. My response? A loud ROAR back and a "thank you, fat cat." I passed the test.
Who knew it took a dead mouse to make me a woman?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
1996
Since I've been banned from a site I usually stalk :( I've taken up hunting down new blogs to read on a repeated basis. One of them had this posted, and I had to see what happened the year I graduated high school...you know, as I approach 30, the memory starts to fade...
So, here are the rules:
A.) Go to Music Outfitters.
B.) Enter the year you graduated from high school in the search function and get the list of 100 most popular songs of that year.
C.) Bold the songs you like, strike through the ones you REALLY hate.
Of course, I have to modify the rules...I've bold the songs I loved then, and struck the songs I REALLY hated then :) Here goes!
1. Macarena (Bayside Boys Mix), Los Del Rio
2. One Sweet Day, Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men
3. Because You Loved Me, Celine Dion
4. Nobody Knows, Tony Rich Project
5. Always Be My Baby, Mariah Carey
6. Give Me One Reason, Tracy Chapman
7. Tha Crossroads, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony
8. I Love You Always Forever, Donna Lewis
9. You're Makin' Me High/Let It Flow, Toni Braxton
10. Twisted, Keith Sweat
11. C'mon N' Ride It (The Train), Quad City Dj's
12. Missing, Everything But The Girl
13. Ironic, Alanis Morissette
14. Exhale (Shoop Shoop), Whitney Houston
15. Follow You Down/Til I Hear It From You, Gin Blossoms
16. Sittin' Up In My Room, Brandy
17. How Do U Want It/California Love, 2Pac
18. It's All Coming Back To Me Now, Celine Dion
19. Change The World, Eric Clapton
20. Hey Lover, LL Cool J
21. Loungin, LL Cool J
22. Insensitive, Jann Arden
23. Be My Lover, La Bouche
24. Name, Goo Goo Dolls
25. Who Will Save Your Soul, Jewel
26. Where Do You Go, No Mercy
27. I Can't Sleep Baby (If I), R. Kelly
28. Counting Blue Cars, Dishwalla
29. You Learn/You Oughta Know, Alanis Morissette
30. One Of Us, Joan Osborne
31. Wonder, Natalie Merchant
32. Not Gon' Cry, Mary J. Blige
33. Gangsta's Paradise, Coolio
34. Only You, 112 Featuring The Notorious B.I.G.
35. Down Low (Nobody Has To Know), R. Kelly
36. You're The One, SWV
37. Sweet Dreams, La Bouche
38. Before You Walk Out Of My Life/Like This And Like That, Monica
39. Breakfast At Tiffany's, Deep Blue Something
40. 1, 2, 3, 4 (Sumpin' New), Coolio41. The World I Know, Collective Soul
42. No Diggity, BLACKstreet (Featuring Dr. Dre)
43. Anything, 3t
44. 1979, The Smashing Pumpkins
45. Diggin' On You, TLC
46. Why I Love You So Much/Ain't Nobody, Monica
47. Kissin' You, Total
48. Count On Me, Whitney Houston and Cece Winans
49. Fantasy, Mariah Carey
50. Time, Hootie and The Blowfish
51. You'll See, Madonna
52. Last Night, Az Yet
53. Mouth, Merril Bainbridge
54. The Earth, The Sun, The Rain, Color Me Badd
55. All The Things (Your Man Won't Do), Joe
56. Wonderwall, Oasis
57. Woo-hah!! Got You All In Check/Everything Remains Raw, Busta Rhymes
58. Tell Me, Groove Theory
59. Elevators (Me and You), Outkast
60. Hook, Blues Traveler
61. Doin It, LL Cool J
62. Fastlove, George Michael
63. Touch Me Tease Me, Case Featuring Foxxy Brown
64. Tonite's Tha Night, Kris Kross
65. Children, Robert Miles
66. Theme From Mission: Impossible, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen
67. Closer To Free, Bodeans
68. Just A Girl, No Doubt
69. If Your Girl Only Knew, Aaliyah
70. Lady, D'angelo
71. Key West Intermezzo (I Saw You First), John Mellencamp
72. Pony, Ginuwine
73. Nobody, Keith Sweat
74. Old Man and Me (When I Get To Heaven), Hootie and The Blowfish
75. If It Makes You Happy, Sheryl Crow
76. As I Lay Me Down, Sophie B. Hawkins
77. Keep On, Keepin' On, Mc Lyte
78. Jealousy, Natalie Merchant
79. I Want To Come Over, Melissa Etheridge
80. Who Do U Love, Deborah Cox
81. Un-Break My Heart, Toni Braxton
82. This Is Your Night, Amber
83. You Remind Me Of Something, R. Kelly
84. Runaway, Janet Jackson
85. Set U Free, Planet Soul
86. Hit Me Off, New Edition
87. No One Else, Total
88. My Boo, Ghost Town Dj's
89. Get Money, Junior M.A.F.I.A.
90. That Girl, Maxi Priest Featuring Shaggy
91. Po Pimp, Do Or Die
92. Until It Sleeps, Metallica
93. Hay, Crucial Conflict
94. Beautiful Life, Ace Of Base
95. Back For Good, Take That
96. I Got Id/Long Road, Pearl Jam
97. Soon As I Get Home, Faith Evans
98. Macarena, Los Del Rio
99. Only Wanna Be With You, Hootie and The Blowfish
100. Don't Cry, Seal
Look, I didn't really hate any of them!
Terrible secret--I don't remember most of the songs being played around Podunk...I didn't even know some of the artists were recording back then--or that they were STILL recording then. I'm not even sure that I knew some of these songs when I was in high school or if I heard them later in the 90s' and loved them then. I have no clue.
See what I mean about memory?
So, here are the rules:
A.) Go to Music Outfitters.
B.) Enter the year you graduated from high school in the search function and get the list of 100 most popular songs of that year.
C.) Bold the songs you like, strike through the ones you REALLY hate.
Of course, I have to modify the rules...I've bold the songs I loved then, and struck the songs I REALLY hated then :) Here goes!
1. Macarena (Bayside Boys Mix), Los Del Rio
2. One Sweet Day, Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men
3. Because You Loved Me, Celine Dion
4. Nobody Knows, Tony Rich Project
5. Always Be My Baby, Mariah Carey
6. Give Me One Reason, Tracy Chapman
7. Tha Crossroads, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony
8. I Love You Always Forever, Donna Lewis
9. You're Makin' Me High/Let It Flow, Toni Braxton
10. Twisted, Keith Sweat
11. C'mon N' Ride It (The Train), Quad City Dj's
12. Missing, Everything But The Girl
13. Ironic, Alanis Morissette
14. Exhale (Shoop Shoop), Whitney Houston
15. Follow You Down/Til I Hear It From You, Gin Blossoms
16. Sittin' Up In My Room, Brandy
17. How Do U Want It/California Love, 2Pac
18. It's All Coming Back To Me Now, Celine Dion
19. Change The World, Eric Clapton
20. Hey Lover, LL Cool J
21. Loungin, LL Cool J
22. Insensitive, Jann Arden
23. Be My Lover, La Bouche
24. Name, Goo Goo Dolls
25. Who Will Save Your Soul, Jewel
26. Where Do You Go, No Mercy
27. I Can't Sleep Baby (If I), R. Kelly
28. Counting Blue Cars, Dishwalla
29. You Learn/You Oughta Know, Alanis Morissette
30. One Of Us, Joan Osborne
31. Wonder, Natalie Merchant
32. Not Gon' Cry, Mary J. Blige
33. Gangsta's Paradise, Coolio
34. Only You, 112 Featuring The Notorious B.I.G.
35. Down Low (Nobody Has To Know), R. Kelly
36. You're The One, SWV
37. Sweet Dreams, La Bouche
38. Before You Walk Out Of My Life/Like This And Like That, Monica
39. Breakfast At Tiffany's, Deep Blue Something
40. 1, 2, 3, 4 (Sumpin' New), Coolio41. The World I Know, Collective Soul
42. No Diggity, BLACKstreet (Featuring Dr. Dre)
43. Anything, 3t
44. 1979, The Smashing Pumpkins
45. Diggin' On You, TLC
46. Why I Love You So Much/Ain't Nobody, Monica
47. Kissin' You, Total
48. Count On Me, Whitney Houston and Cece Winans
49. Fantasy, Mariah Carey
50. Time, Hootie and The Blowfish
51. You'll See, Madonna
52. Last Night, Az Yet
53. Mouth, Merril Bainbridge
54. The Earth, The Sun, The Rain, Color Me Badd
55. All The Things (Your Man Won't Do), Joe
56. Wonderwall, Oasis
57. Woo-hah!! Got You All In Check/Everything Remains Raw, Busta Rhymes
58. Tell Me, Groove Theory
59. Elevators (Me and You), Outkast
60. Hook, Blues Traveler
61. Doin It, LL Cool J
62. Fastlove, George Michael
63. Touch Me Tease Me, Case Featuring Foxxy Brown
64. Tonite's Tha Night, Kris Kross
65. Children, Robert Miles
66. Theme From Mission: Impossible, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen
67. Closer To Free, Bodeans
68. Just A Girl, No Doubt
69. If Your Girl Only Knew, Aaliyah
70. Lady, D'angelo
71. Key West Intermezzo (I Saw You First), John Mellencamp
72. Pony, Ginuwine
73. Nobody, Keith Sweat
74. Old Man and Me (When I Get To Heaven), Hootie and The Blowfish
75. If It Makes You Happy, Sheryl Crow
76. As I Lay Me Down, Sophie B. Hawkins
77. Keep On, Keepin' On, Mc Lyte
78. Jealousy, Natalie Merchant
79. I Want To Come Over, Melissa Etheridge
80. Who Do U Love, Deborah Cox
81. Un-Break My Heart, Toni Braxton
82. This Is Your Night, Amber
83. You Remind Me Of Something, R. Kelly
84. Runaway, Janet Jackson
85. Set U Free, Planet Soul
86. Hit Me Off, New Edition
87. No One Else, Total
88. My Boo, Ghost Town Dj's
89. Get Money, Junior M.A.F.I.A.
90. That Girl, Maxi Priest Featuring Shaggy
91. Po Pimp, Do Or Die
92. Until It Sleeps, Metallica
93. Hay, Crucial Conflict
94. Beautiful Life, Ace Of Base
95. Back For Good, Take That
96. I Got Id/Long Road, Pearl Jam
97. Soon As I Get Home, Faith Evans
98. Macarena, Los Del Rio
99. Only Wanna Be With You, Hootie and The Blowfish
100. Don't Cry, Seal
Look, I didn't really hate any of them!
Terrible secret--I don't remember most of the songs being played around Podunk...I didn't even know some of the artists were recording back then--or that they were STILL recording then. I'm not even sure that I knew some of these songs when I was in high school or if I heard them later in the 90s' and loved them then. I have no clue.
See what I mean about memory?
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Time Flies
Remember being a kid and waiting FOREVER for Christmas or for a birthday? It felt like time was so slow. I remember as a child being told that as I got older, time would speed up. It has. The Christmas decorations are out in the stores, and I swear that summer just ended.
I had no idea it had been over a month since my last post. Things have just slid on by, leaving me as more of a spectator rather than a participant in life.
We took a trip to Las Vegas a couple of weeks ago. We'd been planning for years to celebrate the youngest of our sorority chapter turning the nasty 3-0. Another sister and I are the babies, and so conveniently, we split the difference between our birthdays, and headed out to Vegas with four other ladies. We stayed at the Palazzo, which was wonderful. We had two rooms, with three of us in each room, so we each had our own bed. One of the girls and I flew out a day later than the others, and so we were a day behind on our shopping. We had the required breakfast at Le Village Buffet at Paris. We trekked out to Zappos...where I did not buy one pair of shoes. What's wrong with me? Two of the ladies and I went to a lingerie specialty shop and the other ladies went to a Coach outlet--good thing they left me behind! We had great meals. We did hardly any gambling...I won $0.05! Whoo hoo! We mainly just shopped and shopped and shopped some more. I came home with some new stuff. Hubby sent a dozen long stemmed red roses to my room, so I gather he missed me just fine :) I got a pedicure complete with a "marshmallow mask" that felt like heaven after all the walking we did. And then it was time to come home.
Hubby and I are in the process of adopting a baby that is due in January. I'm trying not to say too much so as not to jinx it. I do go on more on my other blog about it. However, because time is slipping by, we've just realized that we have like eight weeks to get ready for the baby...or at least to gather the necessities, like bottles and diapers and clothing and car seat to bring the baby home. So we've finally broken down and started checking out the very limited baby places. Good news is that we've had many trips to Albuquerque, so we've started to get an idea of stuff. Hubby summed it all up when a salesclerk at one place asked if she could help with anything, and Hubby asked "have anything for sticker shock?" It's totally possible to get too carried away. Fortunately, Hubby and I have great friends, and there are many willing to loan/gift/etc things to us, as well as to let us pick their brains. There's something to be said about being some of the last in the group to have children :)
Work has been plodding along. I have received a promotion which equated to more duties, more pissed off people, more headache, and no more pay or days off. However, I am learning a lot about myself as a supervisor and I have been interested to watch how relationships change based on rank. I'm about to be transferred off the weekend graveyard shift to a weekday shift...the shift that stressed me almost to the point of quitting in May. The good news is that I'll have weekends off and can go back to church. We'll also do some more travelling, and then I'll take six weeks off for the baby, so with all the good stuff coming, it won't be so hard to get through this other shift.
The serious drama will happen in December, when I hit the big 3-0. Hubby is helping me ease into it by taking me on a cruise for seven nights in the southern and eastern Caribbean. We actually have two full days in San Juan, Puerto Rico too. It will hopefully be our last childless trip, and if I have to give up my youth at some point, I'm thrilled to be doing it on an island. Far away from everything else. The trip is helping me almost forget what terrible things will surely come when I'm old. I'm sure I'll need a walker to get off the plane home.
So that's about all. Looking at it here, it doesn't seem like all that much has happened. Having lived through the past four weeks or so, it seems like a whole lifetime of things has happened. If things are this fast paced at 29, what happens at 30?
I had no idea it had been over a month since my last post. Things have just slid on by, leaving me as more of a spectator rather than a participant in life.
We took a trip to Las Vegas a couple of weeks ago. We'd been planning for years to celebrate the youngest of our sorority chapter turning the nasty 3-0. Another sister and I are the babies, and so conveniently, we split the difference between our birthdays, and headed out to Vegas with four other ladies. We stayed at the Palazzo, which was wonderful. We had two rooms, with three of us in each room, so we each had our own bed. One of the girls and I flew out a day later than the others, and so we were a day behind on our shopping. We had the required breakfast at Le Village Buffet at Paris. We trekked out to Zappos...where I did not buy one pair of shoes. What's wrong with me? Two of the ladies and I went to a lingerie specialty shop and the other ladies went to a Coach outlet--good thing they left me behind! We had great meals. We did hardly any gambling...I won $0.05! Whoo hoo! We mainly just shopped and shopped and shopped some more. I came home with some new stuff. Hubby sent a dozen long stemmed red roses to my room, so I gather he missed me just fine :) I got a pedicure complete with a "marshmallow mask" that felt like heaven after all the walking we did. And then it was time to come home.
Hubby and I are in the process of adopting a baby that is due in January. I'm trying not to say too much so as not to jinx it. I do go on more on my other blog about it. However, because time is slipping by, we've just realized that we have like eight weeks to get ready for the baby...or at least to gather the necessities, like bottles and diapers and clothing and car seat to bring the baby home. So we've finally broken down and started checking out the very limited baby places. Good news is that we've had many trips to Albuquerque, so we've started to get an idea of stuff. Hubby summed it all up when a salesclerk at one place asked if she could help with anything, and Hubby asked "have anything for sticker shock?" It's totally possible to get too carried away. Fortunately, Hubby and I have great friends, and there are many willing to loan/gift/etc things to us, as well as to let us pick their brains. There's something to be said about being some of the last in the group to have children :)
Work has been plodding along. I have received a promotion which equated to more duties, more pissed off people, more headache, and no more pay or days off. However, I am learning a lot about myself as a supervisor and I have been interested to watch how relationships change based on rank. I'm about to be transferred off the weekend graveyard shift to a weekday shift...the shift that stressed me almost to the point of quitting in May. The good news is that I'll have weekends off and can go back to church. We'll also do some more travelling, and then I'll take six weeks off for the baby, so with all the good stuff coming, it won't be so hard to get through this other shift.
The serious drama will happen in December, when I hit the big 3-0. Hubby is helping me ease into it by taking me on a cruise for seven nights in the southern and eastern Caribbean. We actually have two full days in San Juan, Puerto Rico too. It will hopefully be our last childless trip, and if I have to give up my youth at some point, I'm thrilled to be doing it on an island. Far away from everything else. The trip is helping me almost forget what terrible things will surely come when I'm old. I'm sure I'll need a walker to get off the plane home.
So that's about all. Looking at it here, it doesn't seem like all that much has happened. Having lived through the past four weeks or so, it seems like a whole lifetime of things has happened. If things are this fast paced at 29, what happens at 30?
Monday, September 15, 2008
When My Will May Not Match His Will
I just realized in responding to an e-mail that my will may not match His will. His being God's. And that's my whole problem.
It's so hard to picture my smart, beautiful, elegant, graceful, funny, confident friend in pain. She just had a Stage IV high-grade glioma tumor removed. That's a form of cancer. In the brain. My friend, my sorority sister, is only 35.
The poor friend that's been placed as the in-between had to be the bearer of bad news about my sister. As she was bearing the bad news, she encouraged everyone to have a positive attitude. And while she's right that encouragement helps, it's not enough.
We need God.
I was explaining to my mother that this may very well be the best chance I have to witness to my friends. I've never been very preachy at them--they know I follow Christ. I try to be an example of Him in my actions. And my sister is also a sister in Christ, beyond being my friend. I find myself sending my friends e-mails like if I continuously state that God's in control, we'll all believe it more.
I know she's in His hands, and that this is His plan. I don't understand the plan. I don't understand why His way is such an awful, black way. I KNOW that God's plan is always perfect, always beautiful and always because He loves us. I just don't understand why His will has to be something that I don't understand, and why something so ugly has to happen to fulfill it.
Ever tried to explain to someone, especially someone that's not a believer, that because God loves us, because He planned our lives before we were even a twinkle in our parents' eyes, because He wants only the best for His children, that terrible things happen? Ever tried to find a way to comfort someone who can't understand that the only comfort is that this is God's will? Ever tried to reconcile within yourself what happens if His will is not my will? Ever tried to praise Him regardless?
I'm trying. I'm praying for understanding, or peace, or comfort, or a clear cut way to be whatever role I need to be during this time. There's an incredible song that keeps coming to me, by MercyMe. I know I'm one of the guilty ones that only really turns loudly to God when things are miserable. The truth is that God loves us in good times, and in bad times, and forever and ever. His love is more precious than words can describe. And if it takes something like this to remind me of His power, His love, and His grace--so be it. Bring the Rain, Lord, Bring the rain.
Bring The Rain ------MercyMe
I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain
I am yours regardless of the clouds that may loom above
Because you are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
Suffering your destiny so tell me whats a little rain
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain
Holy, holy, holy
Holy, holy, holy
is the lord God almighty
is the lord God almighty
I'm forever singing
[2x]
everybody singing
Holy holy holy
you are holy you are holy
[2nd Chorus 2x]
It's so hard to picture my smart, beautiful, elegant, graceful, funny, confident friend in pain. She just had a Stage IV high-grade glioma tumor removed. That's a form of cancer. In the brain. My friend, my sorority sister, is only 35.
The poor friend that's been placed as the in-between had to be the bearer of bad news about my sister. As she was bearing the bad news, she encouraged everyone to have a positive attitude. And while she's right that encouragement helps, it's not enough.
We need God.
I was explaining to my mother that this may very well be the best chance I have to witness to my friends. I've never been very preachy at them--they know I follow Christ. I try to be an example of Him in my actions. And my sister is also a sister in Christ, beyond being my friend. I find myself sending my friends e-mails like if I continuously state that God's in control, we'll all believe it more.
I know she's in His hands, and that this is His plan. I don't understand the plan. I don't understand why His way is such an awful, black way. I KNOW that God's plan is always perfect, always beautiful and always because He loves us. I just don't understand why His will has to be something that I don't understand, and why something so ugly has to happen to fulfill it.
Ever tried to explain to someone, especially someone that's not a believer, that because God loves us, because He planned our lives before we were even a twinkle in our parents' eyes, because He wants only the best for His children, that terrible things happen? Ever tried to find a way to comfort someone who can't understand that the only comfort is that this is God's will? Ever tried to reconcile within yourself what happens if His will is not my will? Ever tried to praise Him regardless?
I'm trying. I'm praying for understanding, or peace, or comfort, or a clear cut way to be whatever role I need to be during this time. There's an incredible song that keeps coming to me, by MercyMe. I know I'm one of the guilty ones that only really turns loudly to God when things are miserable. The truth is that God loves us in good times, and in bad times, and forever and ever. His love is more precious than words can describe. And if it takes something like this to remind me of His power, His love, and His grace--so be it. Bring the Rain, Lord, Bring the rain.
Bring The Rain ------MercyMe
I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain
I am yours regardless of the clouds that may loom above
Because you are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
Suffering your destiny so tell me whats a little rain
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain
Holy, holy, holy
Holy, holy, holy
is the lord God almighty
is the lord God almighty
I'm forever singing
[2x]
everybody singing
Holy holy holy
you are holy you are holy
[2nd Chorus 2x]
Thursday, September 4, 2008
The Grind
I've just returned from my routine dentist checkup, and am a little surprised by it's results.
The hygienist showed me where my front teeth appear to show signs of grinding. Yup, apparently she thinks I grind my teeth. She advised that this could be due to stress in my life that my body reacts at "night" and grinds. So I thought, hmmm....what could I be stressed over?
Could it be trying to have a baby? Could it be trying to adopt a baby? Could it be the trying to do both of those at the same time? Could it be the million other medical problems? Could it be worrying about how my body's reacting to the piles of drugs that are being pumped into me? Could it be stress over my weight--added to the joy of being a stress eater? Could it be the whole our house is too small and a million years old and crumbling around me? Could it be worrying for my friends whom are also stressed out and trying to figure out what I can do for them? Could it be work related--surely there's no stress at my job. Could it be the cost of gas? Trying to figure out how to pay for everything listed above? Turning 30?
Surely not.
And as I stressed over what I could be stressing over, and the toll it's having on the six years of orthodontia hell I went through to get straight, pretty teeth that are now disappearing thanks to my life, the dentist advised that really he doesn't think I'm a grinder because the back teeth have no wear, and I have a slight overbite that would prevent the decaying/disappearing front teeth from showing signs without the back teeth displaying huge signs. He then said I should ask Hubby if he hears me grind my teeth. You know, when we're sleeping together. Which we can't do because I work nights and he works like normal people. Thanks for the reminder of that stress too...am I causing a martial problem because Hubby wouldn't know if I grind my teeth?
So now I'm sure I will grind my teeth in a stress reaction to today.
Maybe it's a plot to make money?
Maybe I really just need a vacation.
The hygienist showed me where my front teeth appear to show signs of grinding. Yup, apparently she thinks I grind my teeth. She advised that this could be due to stress in my life that my body reacts at "night" and grinds. So I thought, hmmm....what could I be stressed over?
Could it be trying to have a baby? Could it be trying to adopt a baby? Could it be the trying to do both of those at the same time? Could it be the million other medical problems? Could it be worrying about how my body's reacting to the piles of drugs that are being pumped into me? Could it be stress over my weight--added to the joy of being a stress eater? Could it be the whole our house is too small and a million years old and crumbling around me? Could it be worrying for my friends whom are also stressed out and trying to figure out what I can do for them? Could it be work related--surely there's no stress at my job. Could it be the cost of gas? Trying to figure out how to pay for everything listed above? Turning 30?
Surely not.
And as I stressed over what I could be stressing over, and the toll it's having on the six years of orthodontia hell I went through to get straight, pretty teeth that are now disappearing thanks to my life, the dentist advised that really he doesn't think I'm a grinder because the back teeth have no wear, and I have a slight overbite that would prevent the decaying/disappearing front teeth from showing signs without the back teeth displaying huge signs. He then said I should ask Hubby if he hears me grind my teeth. You know, when we're sleeping together. Which we can't do because I work nights and he works like normal people. Thanks for the reminder of that stress too...am I causing a martial problem because Hubby wouldn't know if I grind my teeth?
So now I'm sure I will grind my teeth in a stress reaction to today.
Maybe it's a plot to make money?
Maybe I really just need a vacation.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
An Open Love Letter
Dear Hubby,
Holy crap! Eight long years have passed. It's been a remarkably hard, long, amazing, fun, laughter-filled, anxious, tearful, annoying, precious ride. And we've only just begun. Are you ready for the next eight? How about the eight after that, and after that...
I don't think either of us was prepared for what it meant to be married. We've made some mistakes, and we've each had to eat crow. We've loved hard and cried even harder. You've picked me up, dressed me, carried me, encouraged me, held me and loved me. You've suffered through my hormonal swings, my uncertainty and my constantly changing decorating ideas :) You've continued to become a man of God, and to persist in letting Him change and mold you into the man and the husband He's calling you to be.
I am so proud of you and of the decisions you are making. I pray that I can be the wife that He calls you to have for the next 88 years, starting right now, the first day of our ninth year of marriage. Lots of changes are coming our way, and I know that with Christ at the center, we will continue to succeed. He has great plans for us, and I can hardly wait!
Love, me
Holy crap! Eight long years have passed. It's been a remarkably hard, long, amazing, fun, laughter-filled, anxious, tearful, annoying, precious ride. And we've only just begun. Are you ready for the next eight? How about the eight after that, and after that...
I don't think either of us was prepared for what it meant to be married. We've made some mistakes, and we've each had to eat crow. We've loved hard and cried even harder. You've picked me up, dressed me, carried me, encouraged me, held me and loved me. You've suffered through my hormonal swings, my uncertainty and my constantly changing decorating ideas :) You've continued to become a man of God, and to persist in letting Him change and mold you into the man and the husband He's calling you to be.
I am so proud of you and of the decisions you are making. I pray that I can be the wife that He calls you to have for the next 88 years, starting right now, the first day of our ninth year of marriage. Lots of changes are coming our way, and I know that with Christ at the center, we will continue to succeed. He has great plans for us, and I can hardly wait!
Love, me
Where have I been?
30 years is a long time to pass. In December, I will celebrate surviving 30 years. And there's a million things that I should have accomplished by now. I actually thought I'd have done it all by the age of 25, but when that didn't happen, I pushed back my date to the age of 30. Ready to join my pity party? On my list:
*Becoming a kick butt secret agent that puts the bad guys away
*Living in a foreign country
*Partying with famous people
*Getting a college degree
*Having children
*Loving my job
*Saving the world
*Promoting world peace as an ambassador for like UNICEF
*Performing on stage
*Being a garbageMAN (ok, so that's from when I was like 2, and that was my career aspiration.)
*Seeing the 7 Wonders up close
*Meeting mysterious men in every country I traveled to
*Finding a cure for cancer
*Making so much money that all I can do is donate it to others
*Finding world peace
*Rescuing people from themselves
*Running for office
*Taking a road trip with no destination
*Feeding the homeless
*Saving the whales
*Own a Corvette/Ferrari/some expensive sports car
And a million more things. I have less than 3 months to accomplish everything. Think it'll happen?
Nah.
Think I'll still turn 30?
Yup.
Guess I'll have revamp, and come up with a new list of what really matters and of what I really want to do before I turn 40.
*Becoming a kick butt secret agent that puts the bad guys away
*Living in a foreign country
*Partying with famous people
*Getting a college degree
*Having children
*Loving my job
*Saving the world
*Promoting world peace as an ambassador for like UNICEF
*Performing on stage
*Being a garbageMAN (ok, so that's from when I was like 2, and that was my career aspiration.)
*Seeing the 7 Wonders up close
*Meeting mysterious men in every country I traveled to
*Finding a cure for cancer
*Making so much money that all I can do is donate it to others
*Finding world peace
*Rescuing people from themselves
*Running for office
*Taking a road trip with no destination
*Feeding the homeless
*Saving the whales
*Own a Corvette/Ferrari/some expensive sports car
And a million more things. I have less than 3 months to accomplish everything. Think it'll happen?
Nah.
Think I'll still turn 30?
Yup.
Guess I'll have revamp, and come up with a new list of what really matters and of what I really want to do before I turn 40.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
There's No Place Like Home
After the baby died, there was another tragedy in town that I had to work. However, I've now made it through a couple of rotations where nobody has died a tragic or traumatic death. In fact, nobody has died on my shift in about 3 weeks. This is good. It's been long enough that while I'm still remembering the important things in my life, everyday irritants are coming back.
I'm tired of living in a construction zone. It's a million degrees outside, and nobody but the millionaires have air conditioning in their homes in Podunk, so all my windows are open. All I hear are big trucks.
Yesterday I dragged myself home and tried to go to sleep. The construction was beginning before my head even hit the pillow. I was then fortunate enough to have workers hollering back and forth at each other (before 0800 I might add). To top off my morning, as I was finally drifting to sleep, the County began beating on my door. I dragged myself down the stairs (after fighting off the puppies that wanted to go to the door with me) and flung open the door to greet someone with my hair sticking up in interesting positions, my pajamas slightly twisted to one side and my eyes barely open. The man wanted to trim my trees. Then he wanted to cut down my trees. I finally said to him, look, bucko (okay, I didn't really call him that), I just got off a 12 hour graveyard shift at the police department. He says, oh, so you're tired? Can you be any slower to catch on????!!! I said cut down the bleeping trees (again, I didn't really say that). Then I had to wait and listen to the chainsaws.
This morning my neighbor began calling at 0700. I had finally gone to sleep at 0300. I call her back and she proceeds to share that she's coming over so we can discuss terminating the condominium. I'm again, in my pajamas. I did brush my teeth for her. She then tells me she wants to file this today with the County Clerk. So I have to put on clothing over my non-showered-non-hair-washed physique, go to the bank where I HATE going inside, and obtain a notary seal. I understand that nobody will secure a home loan for a condominium in Podunk right now, but that's really her problem and not mine, and I just wanted to sleep late and then take a bubble bath and shave my legs that haven't been shaved in over 2 weeks. They resemble a forest, and any day bugs would take up residence. But whatever, I'll help her out.
Now the doggone dog won't stop licking my finally shaved legs. The other dog keeps climbing in my lap because since I'm up it must be play time. The construction workers are using beautiful language at tones that are carrying throughout my house. The neighbor is beating on her walls. And I really just want to go to bed, but I still have a meeting that I said I could be at no problem because I was planning to sleep until now.
I wish I had ruby red shoes and could chant "there's no place like home" but I am home.
I'm tired of living in a construction zone. It's a million degrees outside, and nobody but the millionaires have air conditioning in their homes in Podunk, so all my windows are open. All I hear are big trucks.
Yesterday I dragged myself home and tried to go to sleep. The construction was beginning before my head even hit the pillow. I was then fortunate enough to have workers hollering back and forth at each other (before 0800 I might add). To top off my morning, as I was finally drifting to sleep, the County began beating on my door. I dragged myself down the stairs (after fighting off the puppies that wanted to go to the door with me) and flung open the door to greet someone with my hair sticking up in interesting positions, my pajamas slightly twisted to one side and my eyes barely open. The man wanted to trim my trees. Then he wanted to cut down my trees. I finally said to him, look, bucko (okay, I didn't really call him that), I just got off a 12 hour graveyard shift at the police department. He says, oh, so you're tired? Can you be any slower to catch on????!!! I said cut down the bleeping trees (again, I didn't really say that). Then I had to wait and listen to the chainsaws.
This morning my neighbor began calling at 0700. I had finally gone to sleep at 0300. I call her back and she proceeds to share that she's coming over so we can discuss terminating the condominium. I'm again, in my pajamas. I did brush my teeth for her. She then tells me she wants to file this today with the County Clerk. So I have to put on clothing over my non-showered-non-hair-washed physique, go to the bank where I HATE going inside, and obtain a notary seal. I understand that nobody will secure a home loan for a condominium in Podunk right now, but that's really her problem and not mine, and I just wanted to sleep late and then take a bubble bath and shave my legs that haven't been shaved in over 2 weeks. They resemble a forest, and any day bugs would take up residence. But whatever, I'll help her out.
Now the doggone dog won't stop licking my finally shaved legs. The other dog keeps climbing in my lap because since I'm up it must be play time. The construction workers are using beautiful language at tones that are carrying throughout my house. The neighbor is beating on her walls. And I really just want to go to bed, but I still have a meeting that I said I could be at no problem because I was planning to sleep until now.
I wish I had ruby red shoes and could chant "there's no place like home" but I am home.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Serious Moments
This was the first shift where a baby has died.
I realize that I'm very fortunate that in six years as an emergency dispatcher, I've never lost a child, much less a baby. I've lost many adults (and some that were children of the caller), and I've had to begin CPR instructions several times. I've heard terrible scenes unfold over the radio and the phone. But I've never lost a baby.
I didn't even take the call. My partner, a fairly new dispatcher, rocked the call. She was amazing. Great poise, great control. She's a single mom of a small child, and I know it was really, really hard for her. She was fantastic.
I obviously didn't respond to the scene. Three officers, two with children, and one without, responded. Multiple firefighters/EMTs/paramedics, some with and some without children at home, responded. The first officer was greeted with the mother and the not-breathing, not- responding baby, and escorted the ambulance and fire engines to the hospital. The fire department didn't even pause at the house; they simply grabbed the child and transported to the hospital, working all the way. All the responders were fantastic.
I simply handled the radio traffic and the subsequent calls. As I tried to explain to the chaplains tonight that were debriefing us, I really thought I was fine until I heard from one of my responders, and I knew he was not fine; he was devastated. And that devastated me.
The whole chaplain/debriefing situation is fairly new to us. We spend most of our careers at the worst point of people's lives, and once one call is finished, there's another call waiting. We don't always have the chance to recover from one call before something else rolls in. And in my part of the field, I don't get to know the outcome of the call, or what really happened. All I have is my imagination, based on what the caller told me, the caller's tone of voice, the officer or firefighter's tone of voice, and past experience. And in calls like this call, my officer's voice over the radio told me immediately that he was shaken. It wasn't his words (he just said he was with the mother), it was the tone and hours I've spent with him, talking with him and building a relationship with him so that past experience told me it was bad.
I don't know how many of the officers really wanted to be debriefed. It goes against everything we've been taught--the old school just be callous and roll on train of thought. The fire department is great about debriefing, and the chaplains had already been with them after the call. It happened at our shift change(both my partner and I and my officers), and the chaplains came back for us when we reported back to duty. The officers trekked into dispatch, where we and the chaplains had already talked for about a half an hour. One officer was open, and the other two were silent. Pain rolled off of them in large waves. They didn't say much, but just the act of them responding for us--and I really do believe that they responded to check on my partner and I--spoke volumes. We've had some disagreements with this team of officers, but in a moment of crisis, it's all gone. When it was said and done, I know that they care about me, and that our "family" is back. Out of so much pain, anger and ultimately death, comes strength and love.
I hope this never happens again. Unfortunately, it will. As will many other, terrible calls. And I have so much respect for those that choose to work in this field. We are truly blessed to have each other.
I realize that I'm very fortunate that in six years as an emergency dispatcher, I've never lost a child, much less a baby. I've lost many adults (and some that were children of the caller), and I've had to begin CPR instructions several times. I've heard terrible scenes unfold over the radio and the phone. But I've never lost a baby.
I didn't even take the call. My partner, a fairly new dispatcher, rocked the call. She was amazing. Great poise, great control. She's a single mom of a small child, and I know it was really, really hard for her. She was fantastic.
I obviously didn't respond to the scene. Three officers, two with children, and one without, responded. Multiple firefighters/EMTs/paramedics, some with and some without children at home, responded. The first officer was greeted with the mother and the not-breathing, not- responding baby, and escorted the ambulance and fire engines to the hospital. The fire department didn't even pause at the house; they simply grabbed the child and transported to the hospital, working all the way. All the responders were fantastic.
I simply handled the radio traffic and the subsequent calls. As I tried to explain to the chaplains tonight that were debriefing us, I really thought I was fine until I heard from one of my responders, and I knew he was not fine; he was devastated. And that devastated me.
The whole chaplain/debriefing situation is fairly new to us. We spend most of our careers at the worst point of people's lives, and once one call is finished, there's another call waiting. We don't always have the chance to recover from one call before something else rolls in. And in my part of the field, I don't get to know the outcome of the call, or what really happened. All I have is my imagination, based on what the caller told me, the caller's tone of voice, the officer or firefighter's tone of voice, and past experience. And in calls like this call, my officer's voice over the radio told me immediately that he was shaken. It wasn't his words (he just said he was with the mother), it was the tone and hours I've spent with him, talking with him and building a relationship with him so that past experience told me it was bad.
I don't know how many of the officers really wanted to be debriefed. It goes against everything we've been taught--the old school just be callous and roll on train of thought. The fire department is great about debriefing, and the chaplains had already been with them after the call. It happened at our shift change(both my partner and I and my officers), and the chaplains came back for us when we reported back to duty. The officers trekked into dispatch, where we and the chaplains had already talked for about a half an hour. One officer was open, and the other two were silent. Pain rolled off of them in large waves. They didn't say much, but just the act of them responding for us--and I really do believe that they responded to check on my partner and I--spoke volumes. We've had some disagreements with this team of officers, but in a moment of crisis, it's all gone. When it was said and done, I know that they care about me, and that our "family" is back. Out of so much pain, anger and ultimately death, comes strength and love.
I hope this never happens again. Unfortunately, it will. As will many other, terrible calls. And I have so much respect for those that choose to work in this field. We are truly blessed to have each other.
Barbies' Common Courtesy
So the last two days have been filled with conspiracies to make me go off the deep end. Every little thing that would normally cause me to flip my lid, blow my gasket, whatever the saying, seemed to pop up within a 48 hour period.
I've been used to having the whole building we live in to ourselves. For the past four or five years, we really didn't have immediate neighbors in the unit next to ours. The few that did venture to live there really weren't that noticeable--well, other than last summer when a construction crew rented the unit, partied every night, yelled at each other, trashed the yard with broken beer bottles, and left cigarette butts every where. So anyway, long story short is that the unit was foreclosed on and sold to a couple from another town--the couple that wanted to tear down our nice, brand new fence. I got home yesterday to discover that they had erected a four foot high post in the dirt patch that sits between our units, attached a piece of lattice work to create a "fence" and had covered the sewage clean outs with small rocks. It looks nice, but they did not get our permission to erect the thingy, and I'm not sure we would have agreed to the covering of the clean outs. We have this ridiculous Condominium Association, and it has bylaws and declarations and the whole nine yards. I know that the new owners have the documents--I gave them the documents. Would it have killed them to ask us our thoughts? What happened to common courtesy?
So onto the next units. They too were foreclosed on and sold. The new owners there are trying to better the property--YES! Someone else to help foot the bill that we've been paying!--and have made numerous changes--asking for permission along the way. They have a contractor that's doing a good portion of the work. Hubby had gotten permission from everyone to put up these solar lights to light the pathway. Not a bad idea, especially since some of the steps are crumbling. The end units and their contractor have managed to bust two lights. The first busted light, the owner confessed to, and we said no big deal. The latest busted light the contractor put on the porch of one of the units and has not said one word to us. If we had busted something of theirs, we would have mentioned it. What happened to common courtesy?
After discovering the trouble with the neighbors, I opened a credit card statement and nearly had a heart attack. In April, I attended a direct sales shopping moment, and purchased over $300 in clothing. The show was on the 27th. In May, I discovered that the credit card showed the same charge by the same company on the 27th and the 29th. I had contacted the consultant--I used to be a direct sales consultant and hated when the customer contacted the company without giving me a chance to find the problem, and I wanted her to know I appreciated her as a consultant--and the consultant said that she was on vacation, and couldn't look into it until she returned. When she returned, she e-mailed me that the company only saw the charge once, and didn't know why it posted twice and suggested I contact the credit card company. I did contact the credit card company, and they reversed the second charge while they researched the charge. The direct sales company then closed their doors. Sure enough, on this month's statement, I see where they reinstated the second charge. Never mind what my receipt says. Never mind that I only got one shipment of clothing. Never mind the little person got screwed. The credit card company never sent me any notice that their investigation was complete or of their findings. I tried to call, but the wait was "eight minutes or more," and after 10 minutes, I had to be at an appointment. I fired off an e-mail to the credit card company. I have heard nothing. What happened to common courtesy?
Finally, we had to go to Albuquerque for a doctor's appointment. Then I had to get blood work. We cleared the hospital at 4:00, and I have to be at work at 6:30. We live exactly two hours from the hospital. The fastest route is I-25 home. There was major congestion on I-25. No traffic accidents, no construction, no reasonable explanation for the 45 miles per hour drive from Albuquerque to Bernalillo. After we cleared that, we had maybe 10 miles before the speed dropped again. And then there was construction. Here's what really got me--it is apparently every New Mexican's God-given right to drive in the left lane. Never mind all the posted signs about slower traffic keep right. If you want to drive at 30 miles an hour LESS then the posted speed limit, please, by all means, drive in the left lane. It's against the law to pass on the right, so the rest of us will just plod along behind you. What happened to common courtesy?
When I was a child, I would sometimes picture mankind as barbie dolls. God would bend our legs, dress up, make us walk, everything little kids do with barbie dolls. I pictured Him pushing around cars on a track, just like Hot Wheels. I saw Him placing buildings around a map. However, I never imagined that God would allow us to be so doggone rude to each other.
I've been used to having the whole building we live in to ourselves. For the past four or five years, we really didn't have immediate neighbors in the unit next to ours. The few that did venture to live there really weren't that noticeable--well, other than last summer when a construction crew rented the unit, partied every night, yelled at each other, trashed the yard with broken beer bottles, and left cigarette butts every where. So anyway, long story short is that the unit was foreclosed on and sold to a couple from another town--the couple that wanted to tear down our nice, brand new fence. I got home yesterday to discover that they had erected a four foot high post in the dirt patch that sits between our units, attached a piece of lattice work to create a "fence" and had covered the sewage clean outs with small rocks. It looks nice, but they did not get our permission to erect the thingy, and I'm not sure we would have agreed to the covering of the clean outs. We have this ridiculous Condominium Association, and it has bylaws and declarations and the whole nine yards. I know that the new owners have the documents--I gave them the documents. Would it have killed them to ask us our thoughts? What happened to common courtesy?
So onto the next units. They too were foreclosed on and sold. The new owners there are trying to better the property--YES! Someone else to help foot the bill that we've been paying!--and have made numerous changes--asking for permission along the way. They have a contractor that's doing a good portion of the work. Hubby had gotten permission from everyone to put up these solar lights to light the pathway. Not a bad idea, especially since some of the steps are crumbling. The end units and their contractor have managed to bust two lights. The first busted light, the owner confessed to, and we said no big deal. The latest busted light the contractor put on the porch of one of the units and has not said one word to us. If we had busted something of theirs, we would have mentioned it. What happened to common courtesy?
After discovering the trouble with the neighbors, I opened a credit card statement and nearly had a heart attack. In April, I attended a direct sales shopping moment, and purchased over $300 in clothing. The show was on the 27th. In May, I discovered that the credit card showed the same charge by the same company on the 27th and the 29th. I had contacted the consultant--I used to be a direct sales consultant and hated when the customer contacted the company without giving me a chance to find the problem, and I wanted her to know I appreciated her as a consultant--and the consultant said that she was on vacation, and couldn't look into it until she returned. When she returned, she e-mailed me that the company only saw the charge once, and didn't know why it posted twice and suggested I contact the credit card company. I did contact the credit card company, and they reversed the second charge while they researched the charge. The direct sales company then closed their doors. Sure enough, on this month's statement, I see where they reinstated the second charge. Never mind what my receipt says. Never mind that I only got one shipment of clothing. Never mind the little person got screwed. The credit card company never sent me any notice that their investigation was complete or of their findings. I tried to call, but the wait was "eight minutes or more," and after 10 minutes, I had to be at an appointment. I fired off an e-mail to the credit card company. I have heard nothing. What happened to common courtesy?
Finally, we had to go to Albuquerque for a doctor's appointment. Then I had to get blood work. We cleared the hospital at 4:00, and I have to be at work at 6:30. We live exactly two hours from the hospital. The fastest route is I-25 home. There was major congestion on I-25. No traffic accidents, no construction, no reasonable explanation for the 45 miles per hour drive from Albuquerque to Bernalillo. After we cleared that, we had maybe 10 miles before the speed dropped again. And then there was construction. Here's what really got me--it is apparently every New Mexican's God-given right to drive in the left lane. Never mind all the posted signs about slower traffic keep right. If you want to drive at 30 miles an hour LESS then the posted speed limit, please, by all means, drive in the left lane. It's against the law to pass on the right, so the rest of us will just plod along behind you. What happened to common courtesy?
When I was a child, I would sometimes picture mankind as barbie dolls. God would bend our legs, dress up, make us walk, everything little kids do with barbie dolls. I pictured Him pushing around cars on a track, just like Hot Wheels. I saw Him placing buildings around a map. However, I never imagined that God would allow us to be so doggone rude to each other.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
God Speed
God has an interesting way of putting things into perspective for us.
Here I am, careening down the main drag to go to another town with my girlfriend, worrying about the fact that we are incurring an approximately $400-500 cost a month, and that the dog has to have surgery done on top of that charge to the tune of another $500, and I have no idea where I'm going to discover a magic $1,000 extra in our monthly budget this month, when I realize that all the other cars are slowing down and driving doggone close to the ridiculous 40 miles per hour posted. As I turn to my girlfriend to say, bet there's a speed trap ahead, I realize that the nice officer with the radar gun is tuned on my vehicle, and I am not going the posted speed limit. I say to my friend, we're going to get pulled over, and sure enough, here comes the friendly officer behind me.
Yup, while I'm worrying and fretting about money, I received a $65 ticket. It should have been $80, but the officer told me that honesty goes a long way and docked 5 miles off my speed.
Ironic thoughts are that in Podunk, the ticket would have been more than double that. Of course, in Podunk, I'm not so sure I would have gotten a ticket.
Here I am, careening down the main drag to go to another town with my girlfriend, worrying about the fact that we are incurring an approximately $400-500 cost a month, and that the dog has to have surgery done on top of that charge to the tune of another $500, and I have no idea where I'm going to discover a magic $1,000 extra in our monthly budget this month, when I realize that all the other cars are slowing down and driving doggone close to the ridiculous 40 miles per hour posted. As I turn to my girlfriend to say, bet there's a speed trap ahead, I realize that the nice officer with the radar gun is tuned on my vehicle, and I am not going the posted speed limit. I say to my friend, we're going to get pulled over, and sure enough, here comes the friendly officer behind me.
Yup, while I'm worrying and fretting about money, I received a $65 ticket. It should have been $80, but the officer told me that honesty goes a long way and docked 5 miles off my speed.
Ironic thoughts are that in Podunk, the ticket would have been more than double that. Of course, in Podunk, I'm not so sure I would have gotten a ticket.
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