Favorite Picture of March

Jus' Wondering

If you profess to be a Christian, and virtually everyone around you (both Christian, and especially non) uses words like "obstinate," "ridiculous," "obnoxious," "rude," "overbearing," "intolerant," and "stubborn," to describe your existence and interaction with people, is there a problem?

If so, should they change, or should you?

Weekend Randomness

I haven't "verified" the math, but it looks right. :) Also, there is a pop-up, so if you don't have a pop-up blocker to stop it, I don't know what it is. . .

What 1 Trillion looks like

A Classic

It has been a while since this graced my inbox, but I can honestly say I laughed as hard this time as I did when I first read it. (sorry, i ain't doing illustrative pictures for this. . . )

I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week. Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45 AM. The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare.

As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort.. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.

I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in. Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away. I was a little surprised when the doctor said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?"

I didn't respond.

After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal. Some shopping, cleaning, and cooking.

After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, 'Mommy, where's my washcloth?' I told her to get another one from the cupboard.

She replied, "No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my
glitter and sparkles saved inside it."

Never going back to that doctor. Ever!

Why You Don't Want to Choke in the South

One day in a diner in the deep south, a lady choked on a morsel of food that she had been eating.

Two rednecks nearby saw the commotion and tried to help.

The first one asked her, "Are you a-chokin'?"

She held her throat and shook her head "yes."

Then, he asked, "Can ya breath?"

Turning blue, and obviously in distress, she shook her head "no."

The second redneck said, "I knows 'xactly what to do."

With that, he jumped up, ran over to the women, hiked up her dress, yanked down her drawers and licked her left buttcheek.

Out of shock and indignation at what had just happened, the morsel of food came flying out and the woman was able to breath.

The first redneck looked at his buddy and said, "Wow, Billy Bob. I'd always a-heard 'bout that hind-lick manoover, but I'd never seen it in action."

Some Things

There are some things I am pretty good at. I can play trumpet fairly well (no where as well as I used to be able to), I like the sweet tea I make, I do okay at photography, I read well, and I can flat out teach almost anything.

However, I downright stink at chess.

Seriously.

I'm bad. Very, very, very bad.

See that widget there on the right? Don't let it fool you. It says "challenge me," but what it really means is "Click here for an easy win!"

:P

Oh well, I suppose it is okay, if I were good at chess, I would be a truly intimidating force.

Chess keeps me humble.

I Will if You Will

This "challenge" was issued in the comments a few days ago by the Rambling Prophet.

It has been years since someone threw that particular gauntlet down to me, but over the course of several insomnia-haunted nights, I remembered several instances rather clearly.

Most (re -- all) of the most vivid memories included two brothers in the neighborhood -- Anthony and his younger sibling, Patrick. Anthony and I were the same age, and Patrick was two or three years younger. Their grandmother lived (and still lives) two doors down from my mom, and they lived at the bottom of the road.

The stink bombs in the neighbor's mailbox.


There was the time we were swinging on a grapevine hanging from a tree. All was well, and fun, until it broke. . .

Ahhh, Skoal bandits. For those of you not well-versed in pre-pubescent redneck life, skoal bandits were little packets of skoal smokeless tobacco. All the nicotine, none of the messy black specks on your teeth. Yep, I've dipped. There's my world-wide confession. Patrick and I were fine. Anthony got sick as a dog.

Riding our bikes and playing army on Sewer Plant Road. The road also went through the middle of a large cow pastures with lots of cows. Ever ridden as fast as possible only to lock your brakes in a "pile?" Or riding through a fresh pile? Why my mom never got mad at what I was doing to my clothes is beyond me!!

But, the most vivid in my mind is the time Anthony and Patrick said, "If we ride down the hill, will you?" Now, they did not have to designate what was "the hill." We lived at the base of a mountain; there were plenty of hills, but "the" in "the hill" was this one.



Only 27 years ago, there wasn't all that "growth", that huge pine tree, or pavement. It was red clay dirt, going straight down, into a ditch and ending on a dirt road.

The rational answer would be, "No."
The simple answer would be, "No."
The obvious answer would be, "No."

So my obvious answer was, "You go first and I'll do it."

So, we went up the driveway that would take us to the top. Anthony went down and Patrick followed with some mad skillz that would make Ned Overend (google him) proud.

Then, it was my turn. The girl with the attitude. The girl with something to prove. The girl with pride.

Only unbeknownst to said female, Anthony and Patrick had been practicing and understood perfectly the concept of going down on an angle and slightly breaking but allowing the wheels to roll some as well.

I took a deep breath, pushed off and. . .

"Are you alive?" the next thing I remember is lying on my back in the middle of the road looking up at two blond heads staring at me as if I had just dropped in from outerspace. Based on their recollection, that may not have been too much an exaggeration.

So much for attitude and pride. I had started out good, but within the first few inches, accelerated beyond control, hit the bottom of the ditch, flipped over the handle bars and landed on my back in the middle of the dirt road.

Ouch.

So, Tony, if it is all the same to you, I think I'll pass this time!

(And is it any wonder I have a fear of heights and could never ride down steep hills later when, as an adult, I got bit by Bernard's mountain biking bug)


+++++++++++++++++++++

Serious, sad warning.

+++++++++++++++++++++

There is just something not right when the people from your childhood die. Trooper Anthony, it doesn't seem real that it has been over 5 years, but that is what the calendar says, so it must be so. I'm thankful we had those early years together, and the friendship we shared.

Hope

My photo assignment for the month of March is HOPE.

Long story shortened, I have some friends who are founders of BT Buddies. As a fundraiser, and to raise awareness of brain tumours, they are doing a coffee table style book portraying HOPE.

Also, our local paper is having a photo contest for Easter with the theme of, you guessed it, HOPE.

The book project is one that is dear to me as I lost a high school classmate, a co-worker, and a college professor to cancer that ended up in their brains. :( I am wanting to do a shot in memory of them, so I want it to be GOOD.

I just can't get an idea. :(

Help?

What a Difference a Day Makes

There have been times in my life where I was so down and discouraged that it was all I could do to say, "God, I can't do this anymore. Help me, please." That was the prayer. Nothing fancy, eloquent, or even very specific.

I was reminded of this during yesterday's sermon. I don't remember exactly what Mark said, but what I heard (that should encourage all you preacher types) was, "You may have been discouraged, and asked God to help you. He will help you."

And I realized something. I prayed this prayer just a few days ago. I don't feel like that now. I cannot identify the exact moment it lifted, it just did. I believe that was God.

Our recent snow further illustrated this for me. When we got home from church yesterday (finally), this is what it looked like off of our front porch --



(this is in color, btw)
Gray, bleak, stormy looking.

Approximately 18 hours later, this was my view--



Give God time to make the gray skies blue.