The women were terrified and bowed with their faces to the ground. Then the men asked, “Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive? He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Remember what he told you back in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be betrayed into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and that he would rise again on the third day.” Luke 24:5-7 (NLT)
Happy Good Friday to everyone! I'm at work today. I have prayed for two days about having a decent attitude today. (Almost every courthouse, etc, is closed today, but we are not:) My kids and Jay are at home. Here I sit. I'm waiting for that overabundance of joy to kick in anytime now.
My heart is heavy with friends and family who have serious medical issues. When I read the scripture related to the Easter story, it makes me sad that such awful things happened to Jesus.
Then I have decided that maybe it's okay that I'm a little blue this morning. There were so many dark moments on this day many, many years ago. But you see, the sun is going to shine later on today...and I know that the Son has risen. There is hope. There is hope for my loved ones with medical complications. There is hope for all people who make the choice to believe. There is hope for me.
Happy Easter!
Friday, March 29, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Hey, that's me!
But the other criminal protested, “Don’t you fear God even when you have been sentenced to die? We deserve to die for our crimes, but this man hasn’t done anything wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” And Jesus replied, “I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 23:40-43 (NLT)
This is my favorite part of the Easter story. May be a little odd, but every time I hear this passage read or read it, I get chills. Third Day has a song entitled "Thief" that is one of my all-time favorites and the lyrics are so powerful. You can read the lyrics or go ahead and listen to the link below if you would like. It's a great, great song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wktv5mA7EB0
Thief
I am a thief, I am a murderer
Walking up this lonely hill
What have I done? No, I don't remember
No one knows just how I feel
and I know that my time is coming soon.
It's been so long. Oh, such a long time
Since I've lived with peace and rest
Now I am here, my destination
I guess things work for the best.
and I know that my time is coming soon.
Who is this man? This man beside me
They call the King of the Jews
They don't believe that He's the Messiah
But, somehow I know it's true.
They laugh at Him in mockery,
and they beat Him till He bleeds
They nail Him to the rugged cross,
And raise Him, they raise Him up next to me
My time has come, I'm slowly fading
I deserve what I receive
Jesus when You are in Your kingdom
Could You please, please remember me
and He looks at me still holding on
the tears fall from His eyes
He says I tell the truth
Today, you will live with me in paradise
and I know that my time, yes, my time is coming soon
and I know that my time, yes, my time is coming soon
And I know Paradise, Paradise is coming soon.
So why do I like that passage so much about the thief? Because that thief is me! I'm the unworthy sinner who deserves punishment for my sins. Hanging next to Jesus, I would look no different than this fellow. And even as they were going to die, Jesus extended mercy to him at that moment. It had to have been great comfort for the thief, even under the circumstances...and most likely a relief.
To me, that tiny scripture passage secures my place in paradise. Because if Jesus can forgive that guy and those that crucified him, he will forgive even me.
This is my favorite part of the Easter story. May be a little odd, but every time I hear this passage read or read it, I get chills. Third Day has a song entitled "Thief" that is one of my all-time favorites and the lyrics are so powerful. You can read the lyrics or go ahead and listen to the link below if you would like. It's a great, great song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wktv5mA7EB0
Thief
I am a thief, I am a murderer
Walking up this lonely hill
What have I done? No, I don't remember
No one knows just how I feel
and I know that my time is coming soon.
It's been so long. Oh, such a long time
Since I've lived with peace and rest
Now I am here, my destination
I guess things work for the best.
and I know that my time is coming soon.
Who is this man? This man beside me
They call the King of the Jews
They don't believe that He's the Messiah
But, somehow I know it's true.
They laugh at Him in mockery,
and they beat Him till He bleeds
They nail Him to the rugged cross,
And raise Him, they raise Him up next to me
My time has come, I'm slowly fading
I deserve what I receive
Jesus when You are in Your kingdom
Could You please, please remember me
and He looks at me still holding on
the tears fall from His eyes
He says I tell the truth
Today, you will live with me in paradise
and I know that my time, yes, my time is coming soon
and I know that my time, yes, my time is coming soon
And I know Paradise, Paradise is coming soon.
So why do I like that passage so much about the thief? Because that thief is me! I'm the unworthy sinner who deserves punishment for my sins. Hanging next to Jesus, I would look no different than this fellow. And even as they were going to die, Jesus extended mercy to him at that moment. It had to have been great comfort for the thief, even under the circumstances...and most likely a relief.
To me, that tiny scripture passage secures my place in paradise. Because if Jesus can forgive that guy and those that crucified him, he will forgive even me.
Monday, March 25, 2013
"Winter Wonderland"
As I was cleaning last week, I found this story and thought it was so fitting right now. (Jay keeps making comments like, "I'm sick of winter. Who would want to live here?") I don't know who wrote this, there are no identifying markings on it...but it has to be someone local because the township of which they speak, Orange, is the one in which I live. And maybe it was modified, I don't know. ( I did have to change one word along the way.) Anyway, enjoy...
Winter Wonderland - copied
Aug. 12 - Moved to our new home in Orange Township, it is so beautiful here. The fields and the woods are so pretty. Can hardly wait to see the snow.
Oct. 14 - Orange Township is the most beautiful place on earth. The leaves have turned all colors and shades of red and orange and yellow. Went for a ride through the hills and saw some deer. They are so graceful. Certainly they are the most wonderful animal on earth. This must be paradise. I love it here.
Nov. 11 - Deer season will start soon. I can't imagine anyone wanting to kill such a gorgeous creature. Hope it snows soon. I love it here.
Dec. 2 - It snowed last night. Woke up to find everything blanketed in white. It looks like a postcard. We went outside and cleaned the snow off the steps and shoveled the driveway. We had a snowball fight (I won), and when the snow plow came by, we shoveled the driveway again. What a beautiful place. I just love Orange Township.
Dec. 12 - More snow last night. It's really pretty. The snow plow did his trick on the driveway again. I love it here.
Dec. 19 - Snowed all night, again. Couldn't get out of the driveway to get to work. I am exhausted from shovelling. That darn snow plow.
Dec. 25 - Merry Christmas. More friggin' snow. If I get my hand on the jerk who drives the snow plow, I swear I'll kill the idiot. Don't know why they don't use more salt on the roads to melt the ice.
Dec. 27 - More white stuff! Been inside for three stinkin' days except to shovel the driveway every time the snow plow goes through. Can't go anywhere. Car's stuck in a mountain of white stuff. The weatherman says to expect another ten inches of the stuff again tonight. Do you know how many shovels of snow ten inches is? Man!
Dec. 28 - The stupid weatherman was wrong. We got fourteen inches of white stuff, not ten!! At this rate it won't melt until summer. The snow plow got stuck up the road and the jerk had the *nerve* to come to our door asking to borrow a shovel! After I told him I've broken six shovels already moving all the snow he pushed into my driveway, I broke the last one over his head.
Jan. 4 - Finally got out of the house today. Went to the store to get food and on the way back, a darn deer ran in front of the car and I hit it. Did about $3,000 worth of damage to the car. The beasts should be killed. Wish the hunters had killed them all last November.
May 3 - Took the car to the garage in town. Would you believe the thing is rusting out from all the salt they put on the roads?
May 10 - Sold the house, moved to Florida. I can't imagine why anyone in their right mind would ever live in god forsaken Orange Township.
Winter Wonderland - copied
Aug. 12 - Moved to our new home in Orange Township, it is so beautiful here. The fields and the woods are so pretty. Can hardly wait to see the snow.
Oct. 14 - Orange Township is the most beautiful place on earth. The leaves have turned all colors and shades of red and orange and yellow. Went for a ride through the hills and saw some deer. They are so graceful. Certainly they are the most wonderful animal on earth. This must be paradise. I love it here.
Nov. 11 - Deer season will start soon. I can't imagine anyone wanting to kill such a gorgeous creature. Hope it snows soon. I love it here.
Dec. 2 - It snowed last night. Woke up to find everything blanketed in white. It looks like a postcard. We went outside and cleaned the snow off the steps and shoveled the driveway. We had a snowball fight (I won), and when the snow plow came by, we shoveled the driveway again. What a beautiful place. I just love Orange Township.
Dec. 12 - More snow last night. It's really pretty. The snow plow did his trick on the driveway again. I love it here.
Dec. 19 - Snowed all night, again. Couldn't get out of the driveway to get to work. I am exhausted from shovelling. That darn snow plow.
Dec. 25 - Merry Christmas. More friggin' snow. If I get my hand on the jerk who drives the snow plow, I swear I'll kill the idiot. Don't know why they don't use more salt on the roads to melt the ice.
Dec. 27 - More white stuff! Been inside for three stinkin' days except to shovel the driveway every time the snow plow goes through. Can't go anywhere. Car's stuck in a mountain of white stuff. The weatherman says to expect another ten inches of the stuff again tonight. Do you know how many shovels of snow ten inches is? Man!
Dec. 28 - The stupid weatherman was wrong. We got fourteen inches of white stuff, not ten!! At this rate it won't melt until summer. The snow plow got stuck up the road and the jerk had the *nerve* to come to our door asking to borrow a shovel! After I told him I've broken six shovels already moving all the snow he pushed into my driveway, I broke the last one over his head.
Jan. 4 - Finally got out of the house today. Went to the store to get food and on the way back, a darn deer ran in front of the car and I hit it. Did about $3,000 worth of damage to the car. The beasts should be killed. Wish the hunters had killed them all last November.
May 3 - Took the car to the garage in town. Would you believe the thing is rusting out from all the salt they put on the roads?
May 10 - Sold the house, moved to Florida. I can't imagine why anyone in their right mind would ever live in god forsaken Orange Township.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Pig Hauler
It's circa July 2012. I'm car shopping. Little did I know what the future would hold for my shiny new wheels. It was at that time that I took a big step and traded in my seven-passenger SUV for a five-passenger, camper-pulling, horse-hauling, bed-with-a-lid-storing, four-wheel-drive pickup truck. I was excited. I thought it would be so great to be able to pull the camper or trailer without having to trade vehicles with Jay or tracking down the Quackdaddy to borrow his truck.
And I have enjoyed the truck. There are many times when it has come in handy and there are also many times when I miss the extra two seats, but we have managed.
I love that the bed of the truck has a lid...and I call it my trunk. There have been times when the gear in my trunk was utilized for an impromptu picnic or cookout. It's normally stocked with tables, chairs, a Gott cooler, tent, etc. I have it packed full of stuff I need (yes, Jay, I need that stuff).
But, for the past four weeks, my beautiful, shiny truck has been transformed into a Pig Hauler (that's what I call it). With the crazy, ridiculous cold temperatures and the need to transport pigs from point A to point B, the lid on the bed of the truck provides the perfect cover for a bed full of straw and pigs.
Never in a million years did I envision my truck being a Pig Hauler. Or that we would be Pig Farmers, per se. I like to think of my kids as the pig farmers, and we're just the directors, the financiers of the operation. But here I am, almost 38 years old, a mother, wife and hog mama. I spent last Saturday night with my husband, daughter and another couple in a hog barn, standing in pine shavings, wearing booties on my boots (so as to not track our pig germs in), staring at several pens of baby pigs...all the while enjoying some complimentary pulled pork and chips.
A couple weeks ago at youth, the lesson was on guilt. Every time the word "guilt" was used, all I could think of was a female pig, a gilt. What is happening to me? My thoughts are becoming consumed by swine lingo, I've given up date nights for pig auctions and I'm now driving a pig hauler.
And I have enjoyed the truck. There are many times when it has come in handy and there are also many times when I miss the extra two seats, but we have managed.
I love that the bed of the truck has a lid...and I call it my trunk. There have been times when the gear in my trunk was utilized for an impromptu picnic or cookout. It's normally stocked with tables, chairs, a Gott cooler, tent, etc. I have it packed full of stuff I need (yes, Jay, I need that stuff).
But, for the past four weeks, my beautiful, shiny truck has been transformed into a Pig Hauler (that's what I call it). With the crazy, ridiculous cold temperatures and the need to transport pigs from point A to point B, the lid on the bed of the truck provides the perfect cover for a bed full of straw and pigs.
Never in a million years did I envision my truck being a Pig Hauler. Or that we would be Pig Farmers, per se. I like to think of my kids as the pig farmers, and we're just the directors, the financiers of the operation. But here I am, almost 38 years old, a mother, wife and hog mama. I spent last Saturday night with my husband, daughter and another couple in a hog barn, standing in pine shavings, wearing booties on my boots (so as to not track our pig germs in), staring at several pens of baby pigs...all the while enjoying some complimentary pulled pork and chips.
A couple weeks ago at youth, the lesson was on guilt. Every time the word "guilt" was used, all I could think of was a female pig, a gilt. What is happening to me? My thoughts are becoming consumed by swine lingo, I've given up date nights for pig auctions and I'm now driving a pig hauler.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
The purge
The Merriam-Webster dictionary gives several definitions for the word purge. The two I am referring to right now are: to get rid of; or to make free of something unwanted.
I have started the purge, which was the next phase of moving Madolyn's room downstairs and the home office upstairs. I am purging all of the files that were stuffed into three two-drawer filing cabinets in the basement. I began by bringing stacks of file folders with me to work, and in my free time, I'd sort, save and shred. I would drag a huge bag of paperwork to work and return home with a much lighter, condensed version of the important stuff. I repeated that process a couple days and felt pretty good about my progress.
Until I realized that the two other filing cabinets were still full. The stuff I brought was stacked on top of one cabinet and in the 'working' drawer. So next I spent an entire evening going through two of the three mini file cabinets I had things stored/stashed away in. Holy Smokes. I had every single one of our tax returns in there since we've been married.
I found Lane's hospital pictures, whoa, they were frightening. Madolyn decided Lane looked like a Guinea pig. I can't say I disagree with her a whole lot...but don't tell Lane I said that. I wonder what people really thought when they saw our little man. I wouldn't be surprised at all if "He's breathtaking" ran through people's minds. (Re: Seinfield.) I told Madolyn not to give Lane too much heck about the pictures, she looked like a sumo wrestler. And if I could find them, I would show her. I'm pretty sure it would shut her up.
By the time I was through with the purging of the files, I had a laundry basket full of sheets of paper, stacked one right on top of the other. It was FULL. I was shocked, especially considering all the shredding I had done at work. My little man Lane came along and helped by making paper balls. It's really not helpful at all, but he loves it. He used to do it all the time thinking it was useful for making fires in the wood stove. Not really, but he would spend hours, no joke, crumpling up scrap paper. As we speak, in my kitchen, there are two boxes of 'fire balls' and one laundry basket of paperwork ready to be burned...if the wind would ever calm long enough to do so without starting a forest fire.
The amount of paperwork that has surfaced is unbelievable. Jay says it's because I am a hoarder. I say it is because I am lazy. I'm terrible when it comes to filing paperwork and organizing that garbage...because it makes my head spin. I truly am hoping that having the office upstairs will make a difference.
My mom is treating me to an early birthday present this weekend. She is repainting the room. As I had just repainted Madolyn's room in August of last year, I was fully prepared to live with the rather shocking turquoise walls. Apparently there are other members of my family that can't stomach the thought, and hey, as long as I am not the one painting the room, I would love for it to have a little makeover...so I am picking out a new paint color tonight. Yee-Haw.
I'm kind of excited about decorating a room for me. No one else is going to have any say-so in what is going on with the decor in this office. (Yes, Jay, that means you.) There will not be one single dead animal hanging from the wall. Not one. It won't be fancy, but I hope to make it cozy and inviting...inviting enough that I will WANT to file away paperwork because I really am running out of excuses. The office being in the basement was my last good one.
I have started the purge, which was the next phase of moving Madolyn's room downstairs and the home office upstairs. I am purging all of the files that were stuffed into three two-drawer filing cabinets in the basement. I began by bringing stacks of file folders with me to work, and in my free time, I'd sort, save and shred. I would drag a huge bag of paperwork to work and return home with a much lighter, condensed version of the important stuff. I repeated that process a couple days and felt pretty good about my progress.
Until I realized that the two other filing cabinets were still full. The stuff I brought was stacked on top of one cabinet and in the 'working' drawer. So next I spent an entire evening going through two of the three mini file cabinets I had things stored/stashed away in. Holy Smokes. I had every single one of our tax returns in there since we've been married.
I found Lane's hospital pictures, whoa, they were frightening. Madolyn decided Lane looked like a Guinea pig. I can't say I disagree with her a whole lot...but don't tell Lane I said that. I wonder what people really thought when they saw our little man. I wouldn't be surprised at all if "He's breathtaking" ran through people's minds. (Re: Seinfield.) I told Madolyn not to give Lane too much heck about the pictures, she looked like a sumo wrestler. And if I could find them, I would show her. I'm pretty sure it would shut her up.
By the time I was through with the purging of the files, I had a laundry basket full of sheets of paper, stacked one right on top of the other. It was FULL. I was shocked, especially considering all the shredding I had done at work. My little man Lane came along and helped by making paper balls. It's really not helpful at all, but he loves it. He used to do it all the time thinking it was useful for making fires in the wood stove. Not really, but he would spend hours, no joke, crumpling up scrap paper. As we speak, in my kitchen, there are two boxes of 'fire balls' and one laundry basket of paperwork ready to be burned...if the wind would ever calm long enough to do so without starting a forest fire.
The amount of paperwork that has surfaced is unbelievable. Jay says it's because I am a hoarder. I say it is because I am lazy. I'm terrible when it comes to filing paperwork and organizing that garbage...because it makes my head spin. I truly am hoping that having the office upstairs will make a difference.
My mom is treating me to an early birthday present this weekend. She is repainting the room. As I had just repainted Madolyn's room in August of last year, I was fully prepared to live with the rather shocking turquoise walls. Apparently there are other members of my family that can't stomach the thought, and hey, as long as I am not the one painting the room, I would love for it to have a little makeover...so I am picking out a new paint color tonight. Yee-Haw.
I'm kind of excited about decorating a room for me. No one else is going to have any say-so in what is going on with the decor in this office. (Yes, Jay, that means you.) There will not be one single dead animal hanging from the wall. Not one. It won't be fancy, but I hope to make it cozy and inviting...inviting enough that I will WANT to file away paperwork because I really am running out of excuses. The office being in the basement was my last good one.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Busted!
“And why worry about a speck in your friend’s eye when you have a log in your own? How can you think of saying to your friend, ‘Let me help you get rid of that speck in your eye,’ when you can’t see past the log in your own eye? Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend’s eye. Matthew 7:3-5 (NLT)
This week Monday morning arrived with a bang or a blast to my ego. Ha. Let me explain. On Friday there were various things going on at work and I had a few frustrating moments regarding, well, work things that I won't get into specifically, but I had vented my frustration to a couple coworkers. What added to my fit was the phone ringing off the hook between 3:30 and 3:55 on a Friday when it had been pretty quiet all day. It was quite an afternoon and I was frazzled by the time I headed home.
Monday arrived and as soon as I walked in the door of my office, I was bombarded with this, that and the other. Turns out, in all the hustle and bustle and confusion of Friday afternoon, I, the great and perfect Sarah, made a few mistakes of my own. Snap. I hate it when that happens. And Friday I had been complaining about other people and their mistakes, etc.
I took it in stride. I owned my mistakes and laughed a little because instantly I thought of the speck-in-your-eye scripture, as I call it, referenced above. I was quickly reminded that while others may make mistakes, I am no different. And instead of ranting and raving about their imperfections, I better focus on my own.
No one likes to get busted like that, but every now and then, I guess, it's good for us.
This week Monday morning arrived with a bang or a blast to my ego. Ha. Let me explain. On Friday there were various things going on at work and I had a few frustrating moments regarding, well, work things that I won't get into specifically, but I had vented my frustration to a couple coworkers. What added to my fit was the phone ringing off the hook between 3:30 and 3:55 on a Friday when it had been pretty quiet all day. It was quite an afternoon and I was frazzled by the time I headed home.
Monday arrived and as soon as I walked in the door of my office, I was bombarded with this, that and the other. Turns out, in all the hustle and bustle and confusion of Friday afternoon, I, the great and perfect Sarah, made a few mistakes of my own. Snap. I hate it when that happens. And Friday I had been complaining about other people and their mistakes, etc.
I took it in stride. I owned my mistakes and laughed a little because instantly I thought of the speck-in-your-eye scripture, as I call it, referenced above. I was quickly reminded that while others may make mistakes, I am no different. And instead of ranting and raving about their imperfections, I better focus on my own.
No one likes to get busted like that, but every now and then, I guess, it's good for us.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Wait for it...
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28 (NKJV)
Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord. Psalm 27:14 (NLT)
Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying. Romans 12:12 (NLT)
We live in a society where everyone wants everything right now. We expect immediate responses and answers. If someone doesn't reply to a text, we get annoyed because we really need to know their reply at this moment. When the Internet freezes, we freak out, wondering what in the world we're going to do without it. If I am held up two minutes at a railroad crossing because of a passing train, oh my goodness...don't they know I need to be somewhere this instant!
I feel like my kids are growing up in a fairytale world. A world that 15 years ago was unthinkable. I never would have imagined that I could send someone across the globe a message and they could respond immediately. I remember in high school beepers were starting to become popular. I'm not even sure my kids know what a beeper is, but I can bet they would think they were ridiculous. Why wouldn't you just call or text the person?
Or how about Skype? I've never used it, but what an awesome tool for families spread out everywhere. I'm sure that military families utilize Skype on a regular basis. To be able to see children or grandchildren thousands of miles away and interact with them in realtime...it's amazing. It's instantaneous.
So many times when we pray for something we want, we expect answers quickly. And when we don't get them fast, we assume that we aren't getting them at all. Remember the song by Garth Brooks, "Unanswered Prayers"? Some of God's greatest gifts really are unanswered prayers because although we may think we know what we want, God knows what we need and when we need it.
God uses us for his purpose...at least that is His plan. Sometimes when bad things happen, it is hard to see the good, but God tells us that all things work together for good. He says "ALL THINGS" and all, at least in my mental dictionary, means everything.
It is hard to be patient. I'm one of the most impatient people I know. I want answers right now. When I pray for something, I want to see results quickly. What's cool is that sometimes, I do get results right away. Just the other night on my way home from work, Jay called on his way home from work and his truck died, literally. I quickly prayed that it would be something simple. And it was. In a matter of minutes, he had reprogrammed whatever gadget needed rebooting and he was on his way. May seem silly, but I felt like my prayer was answered ASAP.
It is difficult to see the good in situations that aren't going my way. And the key to that failure is the "my way" part of the statement. I need to remember that things need to go His way and then they'll turn out good...in His time. Even though we have become accustomed to getting things right now, sometimes we just have to wait for it...
Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord. Psalm 27:14 (NLT)
Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying. Romans 12:12 (NLT)
We live in a society where everyone wants everything right now. We expect immediate responses and answers. If someone doesn't reply to a text, we get annoyed because we really need to know their reply at this moment. When the Internet freezes, we freak out, wondering what in the world we're going to do without it. If I am held up two minutes at a railroad crossing because of a passing train, oh my goodness...don't they know I need to be somewhere this instant!
I feel like my kids are growing up in a fairytale world. A world that 15 years ago was unthinkable. I never would have imagined that I could send someone across the globe a message and they could respond immediately. I remember in high school beepers were starting to become popular. I'm not even sure my kids know what a beeper is, but I can bet they would think they were ridiculous. Why wouldn't you just call or text the person?
Or how about Skype? I've never used it, but what an awesome tool for families spread out everywhere. I'm sure that military families utilize Skype on a regular basis. To be able to see children or grandchildren thousands of miles away and interact with them in realtime...it's amazing. It's instantaneous.
So many times when we pray for something we want, we expect answers quickly. And when we don't get them fast, we assume that we aren't getting them at all. Remember the song by Garth Brooks, "Unanswered Prayers"? Some of God's greatest gifts really are unanswered prayers because although we may think we know what we want, God knows what we need and when we need it.
God uses us for his purpose...at least that is His plan. Sometimes when bad things happen, it is hard to see the good, but God tells us that all things work together for good. He says "ALL THINGS" and all, at least in my mental dictionary, means everything.
It is hard to be patient. I'm one of the most impatient people I know. I want answers right now. When I pray for something, I want to see results quickly. What's cool is that sometimes, I do get results right away. Just the other night on my way home from work, Jay called on his way home from work and his truck died, literally. I quickly prayed that it would be something simple. And it was. In a matter of minutes, he had reprogrammed whatever gadget needed rebooting and he was on his way. May seem silly, but I felt like my prayer was answered ASAP.
It is difficult to see the good in situations that aren't going my way. And the key to that failure is the "my way" part of the statement. I need to remember that things need to go His way and then they'll turn out good...in His time. Even though we have become accustomed to getting things right now, sometimes we just have to wait for it...
Friday, March 15, 2013
Canned meat
For some odd reason, Grandma Great and I were talking about canned meat a couple days ago. When my Madolyn was about two years old, our family had a hog butchered and kept some chunks of pork to can. Madolyn, my mom and I spent the day with Grandma Great as she showed us how it was done. I was there the entire time and cannot even begin to tell you the first step!
| Yum-Yum |
| Sorry, you'll have to turn your head. |
None of it looked too appetizing in the glass jar, but after you tasted that canned meat, you were hooked. There is not one single thing I have had since that has tasted quite like it. My uncle asked me about canned pork a few weeks ago. I'm wondering if we should team up and attempt this process again. I really wish I would have paid more attention at my last canning lesson. What I wouldn't give to have a couple jars of Grandma's canned pork in my cabinet right now...
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Spring Cleaning
Well, the time has come and I suppose now is as good a time as any...for spring cleaning. And maybe, just maybe if we work really hard on it, Spring will actually appear. Ugh, I'm soooo ready for some sunshine and warmer temperatures!
Madolyn decided on Saturday about noon that she wanted to move her bedroom to the basement. I was actually cleaning the basement at the time and thought, what the heck? I was secretly dying to have her bedroom upstairs as our office and here was my chance.
Of course, things like this always sound really good until you start digging in and realize what a huge undertaking it becomes. She was great help moving things out of the office and her things in...and I was right beside her, but now that it's my turn to move my office stuff upstairs to her old bedroom, well, you can imagine, she's not nearly as excited. Thankfully, my little man, Lane, loves stuff like that. He was a pack mule last night making trip after trip up the stairs for me. Man, I hope he never outgrows that!
It really is a good thing that this finally happened, minus the mess right now, because it is forcing me to purge! My mom was working at the resale shop on Saturday and happened to mention that they needed household-type stuff. Yee-Haw. Just so happens I have a boatload - okay, maybe just a backseat full of house stuff, etc., for them! And then as I'm looking through things, I think, oh, I really like that wreath, there's nothing wrong with it at all. I'm not sure I want to get rid of it, it's so cute...so why has it been in a plastic bag tucked away in a closet for six years? Right, I don't need it. Out it goes.
I have found stacks of picture frames with old family photos still in them. Old as in pre-Lane or early-Lane. They are funny to look at now and it hasn't even been that long ago. Then there was the photo for the church directory of Jay, Gunner and I. Yeah, that's right, before we had human children, we took our K-9 child, Gunner, to our family photos. He was such a sweetie...
Today I have sorted through bills and paperwork. This is the bane of my existence at times. I will catch up and swear I will never get behind again. You know if I would just file these things away each month instead of piling them on top of the printer for six months, it wouldn't be so bad. Yes, I know this. And yet still ignore the warning.
I searched online to see how long you are supposed to keep records for tax purposes...good heavens, me and my simple mind could not even decipher the IRS's tips. Honestly, just tell me, three years, seven years, whatever. Instead it's something like, "If such and such applies to you, then it's three years." And then there's further explanation. My thoughts at this point are three years, and some of the crud I keep, I'm discarding at the end of the year. I figure with the technology, I can find some of it out by searching online at my accounts and such.
I have these big plans, of course, with my new office. Plans like keeping on top of paperwork. Learning how to scan photos (watch out readers, if I figure that one out). Keeping up with photo albums (which honestly I have been doing okay on lately...although I have over 400+ to print...so really I'm just as behind). The answer to all my procrastination problems was that the office was downstairs in a room with no windows...so now what will be my excuse?!
I love the idea of having two windows in the office as opposed to zero. Now Madolyn will have zero windows. But she's at that age she doesn't really care about sunshine. For a while now, we were thinking we would need to finish the bathroom in the basement and then she would make the move downstairs. She gave up. I'm thinking that's a good thing because if we did have a finished bathroom down there, she may never surface again. We'll look around and wonder, "Where's Mad?" Oh, she went downstairs. Hmm, okay. Two hours later, she'll pop upstairs. I guess we'll just have to get used to that.
Jay asked me what color I was going to repaint my new office. Ha. I just repainted it super-bright turquoise in August for Mad's birthday. Super-bright turquoise it is...for a while unless someone else wants to paint it. That room has been painted more times than any other room in the house. I'm not touching it for quite a while...I'll just have to wear sunglasses.
Hope the rest of you are in the spring cleaning spirit. I have to stay onboard as long as possible because the fever will soon pass and I'll just put it off again 'til next year.
Madolyn decided on Saturday about noon that she wanted to move her bedroom to the basement. I was actually cleaning the basement at the time and thought, what the heck? I was secretly dying to have her bedroom upstairs as our office and here was my chance.
Of course, things like this always sound really good until you start digging in and realize what a huge undertaking it becomes. She was great help moving things out of the office and her things in...and I was right beside her, but now that it's my turn to move my office stuff upstairs to her old bedroom, well, you can imagine, she's not nearly as excited. Thankfully, my little man, Lane, loves stuff like that. He was a pack mule last night making trip after trip up the stairs for me. Man, I hope he never outgrows that!
It really is a good thing that this finally happened, minus the mess right now, because it is forcing me to purge! My mom was working at the resale shop on Saturday and happened to mention that they needed household-type stuff. Yee-Haw. Just so happens I have a boatload - okay, maybe just a backseat full of house stuff, etc., for them! And then as I'm looking through things, I think, oh, I really like that wreath, there's nothing wrong with it at all. I'm not sure I want to get rid of it, it's so cute...so why has it been in a plastic bag tucked away in a closet for six years? Right, I don't need it. Out it goes.
I have found stacks of picture frames with old family photos still in them. Old as in pre-Lane or early-Lane. They are funny to look at now and it hasn't even been that long ago. Then there was the photo for the church directory of Jay, Gunner and I. Yeah, that's right, before we had human children, we took our K-9 child, Gunner, to our family photos. He was such a sweetie...
Today I have sorted through bills and paperwork. This is the bane of my existence at times. I will catch up and swear I will never get behind again. You know if I would just file these things away each month instead of piling them on top of the printer for six months, it wouldn't be so bad. Yes, I know this. And yet still ignore the warning.
I searched online to see how long you are supposed to keep records for tax purposes...good heavens, me and my simple mind could not even decipher the IRS's tips. Honestly, just tell me, three years, seven years, whatever. Instead it's something like, "If such and such applies to you, then it's three years." And then there's further explanation. My thoughts at this point are three years, and some of the crud I keep, I'm discarding at the end of the year. I figure with the technology, I can find some of it out by searching online at my accounts and such.
I have these big plans, of course, with my new office. Plans like keeping on top of paperwork. Learning how to scan photos (watch out readers, if I figure that one out). Keeping up with photo albums (which honestly I have been doing okay on lately...although I have over 400+ to print...so really I'm just as behind). The answer to all my procrastination problems was that the office was downstairs in a room with no windows...so now what will be my excuse?!
I love the idea of having two windows in the office as opposed to zero. Now Madolyn will have zero windows. But she's at that age she doesn't really care about sunshine. For a while now, we were thinking we would need to finish the bathroom in the basement and then she would make the move downstairs. She gave up. I'm thinking that's a good thing because if we did have a finished bathroom down there, she may never surface again. We'll look around and wonder, "Where's Mad?" Oh, she went downstairs. Hmm, okay. Two hours later, she'll pop upstairs. I guess we'll just have to get used to that.
Jay asked me what color I was going to repaint my new office. Ha. I just repainted it super-bright turquoise in August for Mad's birthday. Super-bright turquoise it is...for a while unless someone else wants to paint it. That room has been painted more times than any other room in the house. I'm not touching it for quite a while...I'll just have to wear sunglasses.
Hope the rest of you are in the spring cleaning spirit. I have to stay onboard as long as possible because the fever will soon pass and I'll just put it off again 'til next year.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Club
I've had a change of heart about something I thought I felt pretty strongly about...until recently. Over the past few years, I've witnessed other parents running their kids here and there and everywhere to club or league tournaments. Many times I've made comments and criticized their judgment, wondering why in the world they would choose to devote so much time and money to these things. It seemed utterly ridiculous to me. Until now.
For the first time in my daughter's life, I see a spark, an excitement that I've never seen before when it comes to an interest or activity. She has tried various things, but volleyball has become her passion. A while back she made a comment to me that blew me away. It wasn't a bad comment, just one that made me realize she was serious. I kind of decided then and there that I would do whatever I could to help her achieve that goal, within reason. Jay and I are thrilled to see her actually commit to something and give it her all.
As we attended junior high basketball games and junior high volleyball games night after night, week after week, it occurred to me that being a parent comes with a price. It is a commitment and an unselfish one. I finally figured out that my priorities have to shift. It is no longer just about me and what I want to do anymore. Do I want to totally write myself off? No, there has to be a balance, but I'm finding that as I make this shift, I really want to be where my kids are, helping with their activities or even just cheering them on.
There are certain characteristics and qualities we want our kids to take from their childhood and into their adult lives. Things like discipline, achievement, responsibility, teamwork, encouragement, focus, drive, commitment, decision-making. Although there are many areas in life these qualities can be attained, sports and extra-curricular activities can be a major contributor.
It's no surprise that kids involved in sports and extra-curricular activities are less likely to be lurking around in mischief and getting into trouble. That is not to say those (my) kids will never be in trouble, but it sure helps them tow the line. If a sport or activity is important enough to a child, they may be more inclined to keep their grades up and walk a straighter path. Who doesn't want that for their child?
So this past weekend, we committed to a volleyball club. Something I really thought we would never do (mostly for selfish reasons). Madolyn is super excited about it and has agreed to work towards at least half of the fee. We feel like that's a fair compromise. Yes, it will be time consuming for a couple months, but you never know what could come of it down the road and it's giving Madolyn something to occupy some of her idle time.
Towards the end of the regular volleyball season, we were battling it out with a pretty tough team. We had each won one game and it was 24-15 in the final game, their favor. That's when I heard my daughter tell her teammates, "We've got this, ladies. Come on." At first I had to kind of chuckle. In a practical sense, the game was over and she still thought they could win. But later I realized that really was a proud moment for mom. Mad hadn't given up and she continued to encourage her teammates, even when things looked pretty bleak. Ahhh, yes, and that is why we do what we do...
For the first time in my daughter's life, I see a spark, an excitement that I've never seen before when it comes to an interest or activity. She has tried various things, but volleyball has become her passion. A while back she made a comment to me that blew me away. It wasn't a bad comment, just one that made me realize she was serious. I kind of decided then and there that I would do whatever I could to help her achieve that goal, within reason. Jay and I are thrilled to see her actually commit to something and give it her all.
As we attended junior high basketball games and junior high volleyball games night after night, week after week, it occurred to me that being a parent comes with a price. It is a commitment and an unselfish one. I finally figured out that my priorities have to shift. It is no longer just about me and what I want to do anymore. Do I want to totally write myself off? No, there has to be a balance, but I'm finding that as I make this shift, I really want to be where my kids are, helping with their activities or even just cheering them on.
There are certain characteristics and qualities we want our kids to take from their childhood and into their adult lives. Things like discipline, achievement, responsibility, teamwork, encouragement, focus, drive, commitment, decision-making. Although there are many areas in life these qualities can be attained, sports and extra-curricular activities can be a major contributor.
It's no surprise that kids involved in sports and extra-curricular activities are less likely to be lurking around in mischief and getting into trouble. That is not to say those (my) kids will never be in trouble, but it sure helps them tow the line. If a sport or activity is important enough to a child, they may be more inclined to keep their grades up and walk a straighter path. Who doesn't want that for their child?
So this past weekend, we committed to a volleyball club. Something I really thought we would never do (mostly for selfish reasons). Madolyn is super excited about it and has agreed to work towards at least half of the fee. We feel like that's a fair compromise. Yes, it will be time consuming for a couple months, but you never know what could come of it down the road and it's giving Madolyn something to occupy some of her idle time.
Towards the end of the regular volleyball season, we were battling it out with a pretty tough team. We had each won one game and it was 24-15 in the final game, their favor. That's when I heard my daughter tell her teammates, "We've got this, ladies. Come on." At first I had to kind of chuckle. In a practical sense, the game was over and she still thought they could win. But later I realized that really was a proud moment for mom. Mad hadn't given up and she continued to encourage her teammates, even when things looked pretty bleak. Ahhh, yes, and that is why we do what we do...
Monday, March 11, 2013
Keyed & Peed
A few years ago, Jay was in line for a 'new' truck. We had worked the Dave Ramsey program pretty hard for a couple years and it was finally time for Jay to trade in the old F150 for a newer one. It was exciting. I actually found the one he ended up getting. It was a nice four-door and it even had a DVD player, which is something we had never had in a vehicle. We were so excited about it, that just a few days after we traded, we took the 'new' truck on a vacation to the Wisconsin Dells.
Jay is somewhat particular about his vehicle. Not necessarily about mine, but he is pretty picky about how his ride looks. When the weather is right, he will wash and wax his truck up and get everything all shiny...although now that I have introduced him to Mike's Carwash, he might also just drive to Terre Haute for them to do it:)
The parking lot of this resort we stayed at in Wisconsin was not terribly crowded. It was the first week or so of November, so not a big tourist time up there. And each evening after we were going to be in for the night, Jay would drop us off and park his shiny 'new' truck way, way out in Timbuktu as to avoid what the Quackdaddy calls "doorbangers." Seriously, you almost had to take a tram to get to the truck.
The morning we left, we packed up and were hauling everything outside to the truck. Madolyn and I were leading the way and I stopped dead in my tracks. From where I was standing, still several feet away, I could see it...someone had keyed the side of Jay's 'new' truck. Uh-oh. As we got closer, I then noticed what appeared to be urine all over the sideboard and the driver's-side door. Jay was going to freak out.
Unfortunately, there was next-to-nothing the resort people could/would do about it. They didn't have a camera or video of what happened, and we had no clue as to who had done it. No one in our group had had an altercation or anything with any other guests. Jay filled out something with the people at the desk and that was basically the end of that. We didn't even get a complimentary sorry-your-truck-got-keyed-and-peed-on discount or pass.
In the end, it was one of those situations you can't do anything about. You have to just get over it. It's only a truck. The urine washed off. Jay worked on the scratch down the side and it did fade somewhat. As I have mentioned before, I'm not too emotional as far as tears go, I laugh a lot instead. I did some laughing that day, which probably made Jay want to kick me in the shin. But I decided there was a moral to this story: Don't park so far out trying to avoid the doorbangers that you draw extra attention to yourself; you may get keyed and peed on.
Jay is somewhat particular about his vehicle. Not necessarily about mine, but he is pretty picky about how his ride looks. When the weather is right, he will wash and wax his truck up and get everything all shiny...although now that I have introduced him to Mike's Carwash, he might also just drive to Terre Haute for them to do it:)
The parking lot of this resort we stayed at in Wisconsin was not terribly crowded. It was the first week or so of November, so not a big tourist time up there. And each evening after we were going to be in for the night, Jay would drop us off and park his shiny 'new' truck way, way out in Timbuktu as to avoid what the Quackdaddy calls "doorbangers." Seriously, you almost had to take a tram to get to the truck.
The morning we left, we packed up and were hauling everything outside to the truck. Madolyn and I were leading the way and I stopped dead in my tracks. From where I was standing, still several feet away, I could see it...someone had keyed the side of Jay's 'new' truck. Uh-oh. As we got closer, I then noticed what appeared to be urine all over the sideboard and the driver's-side door. Jay was going to freak out.
Unfortunately, there was next-to-nothing the resort people could/would do about it. They didn't have a camera or video of what happened, and we had no clue as to who had done it. No one in our group had had an altercation or anything with any other guests. Jay filled out something with the people at the desk and that was basically the end of that. We didn't even get a complimentary sorry-your-truck-got-keyed-and-peed-on discount or pass.
In the end, it was one of those situations you can't do anything about. You have to just get over it. It's only a truck. The urine washed off. Jay worked on the scratch down the side and it did fade somewhat. As I have mentioned before, I'm not too emotional as far as tears go, I laugh a lot instead. I did some laughing that day, which probably made Jay want to kick me in the shin. But I decided there was a moral to this story: Don't park so far out trying to avoid the doorbangers that you draw extra attention to yourself; you may get keyed and peed on.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Routine amnesia
But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” Luke 10:40 (NIV)
Routine Amnesia...this is one of those conditions I've just made up in my mind, but it's something I suffer from on occasion. One morning last week, I got up to get ready for work and hopped in the shower. My normal routine is to wash my hair once, run conditioner through it, then wash my face and body. I didn't wash my hair yesterday (thank God for long straight hair that doesn't need styled when I'm sleepy) so I figured I would need to wash my hair twice, to make sure I got out all the gunk.
As I was drying off, I started to think, did I wash my face? I touched my face. Hmm, can't tell. And did I put conditioner in my hair? Touched my hair. Hmm, can't tell that either. I get out of the shower and decide to wash my face at the sink just to be sure. I still don't know whether my hair got conditioner, although I don't think it's really a big deal. I dried it. I left the house. I think it looked okay, and no one fainted at my sight.
It made me stop and think about how we get into a routine and totally forget about what we're really doing and how we miss out on things. When I was driving to Shelbyville everyday for court reporting school, I can remember getting to a certain point in my commute and not being able to remember going through this town or turning on that road. It was a crazy experience. Had I been sleeping? Hmm, I hope not. I was, after all, driving a car.
It brought me to the story of Mary and Martha. Oh, how I can relate to Martha. I get so busy and caught up in the details that I sometimes can't see the forest for the trees, you know. I get where Martha was coming from. Who doesn't want to be a good hostess? If I know guests are coming, I will clean the house to perfection and get out the 'good stuff.' Maybe Martha wasn't necessarily stuck in the trance of daily routine, but she was completely distracted by everything being just so and about all the stuff Mary wasn't doing to help, that she was completely missing the joy of having Jesus as a guest in her own home.
I don't think routines are necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes a routine is what gets me through the day, especially when it's a crappy day or I don't feel so hot. But sometimes, if I let myself get caught up in the routine motions of the day, I miss out on the good stuff. I wonder, did I miss an opportunity to reach out to someone because I wasn't paying close attention and ignored their cry for help? Did I lose out on experiencing joy with my one of my kids when they expressed excitement over something they accomplished at school because I was trying to figure out the next step in the evening: what I was going to throw together for supper? Did I forget to thank Jaydog for loading the dishwasher (even if it wasn't loaded to my specifications) because it was bedtime and I was too busy trying to get Lane ready for bed?
Sometimes I must step out of my routine and think about what is going on around me. If not, I suffer from routine amnesia and miss out on some good stuff. I need to be a little more Mary and a little less Martha.
Routine Amnesia...this is one of those conditions I've just made up in my mind, but it's something I suffer from on occasion. One morning last week, I got up to get ready for work and hopped in the shower. My normal routine is to wash my hair once, run conditioner through it, then wash my face and body. I didn't wash my hair yesterday (thank God for long straight hair that doesn't need styled when I'm sleepy) so I figured I would need to wash my hair twice, to make sure I got out all the gunk.
As I was drying off, I started to think, did I wash my face? I touched my face. Hmm, can't tell. And did I put conditioner in my hair? Touched my hair. Hmm, can't tell that either. I get out of the shower and decide to wash my face at the sink just to be sure. I still don't know whether my hair got conditioner, although I don't think it's really a big deal. I dried it. I left the house. I think it looked okay, and no one fainted at my sight.
It made me stop and think about how we get into a routine and totally forget about what we're really doing and how we miss out on things. When I was driving to Shelbyville everyday for court reporting school, I can remember getting to a certain point in my commute and not being able to remember going through this town or turning on that road. It was a crazy experience. Had I been sleeping? Hmm, I hope not. I was, after all, driving a car.
It brought me to the story of Mary and Martha. Oh, how I can relate to Martha. I get so busy and caught up in the details that I sometimes can't see the forest for the trees, you know. I get where Martha was coming from. Who doesn't want to be a good hostess? If I know guests are coming, I will clean the house to perfection and get out the 'good stuff.' Maybe Martha wasn't necessarily stuck in the trance of daily routine, but she was completely distracted by everything being just so and about all the stuff Mary wasn't doing to help, that she was completely missing the joy of having Jesus as a guest in her own home.
I don't think routines are necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes a routine is what gets me through the day, especially when it's a crappy day or I don't feel so hot. But sometimes, if I let myself get caught up in the routine motions of the day, I miss out on the good stuff. I wonder, did I miss an opportunity to reach out to someone because I wasn't paying close attention and ignored their cry for help? Did I lose out on experiencing joy with my one of my kids when they expressed excitement over something they accomplished at school because I was trying to figure out the next step in the evening: what I was going to throw together for supper? Did I forget to thank Jaydog for loading the dishwasher (even if it wasn't loaded to my specifications) because it was bedtime and I was too busy trying to get Lane ready for bed?
Sometimes I must step out of my routine and think about what is going on around me. If not, I suffer from routine amnesia and miss out on some good stuff. I need to be a little more Mary and a little less Martha.
Monday, March 4, 2013
The sanding incident.
Last weekend, Lane brought home the note telling us to begin construction on the 3rd Grade Space Shuttle. This is a third grade tradition, so it was no surprise. I now clearly remember Madolyn's, it was all white. She and her dad made it. I stayed out of it.
Lane asked us if he thought his grandpa would help him make his this year. He had drawn up plans (that is so Lane) and had an idea of what he wanted it to look like and what he wanted to use to create it. He asked his Grandpa Wilhoit and he said yes. Grandpa W. has a workshop in his garage that is perfect for this kind of thing.
Last Sunday Lane went up there and they began their project. They worked some more on it Tuesday after school and it's coming along nicely, I am told. Tuesday night at the ball game, we were talking to Jay's parents about how the process was going and Jay's dad was describing it to us, telling us how Lane was using the sander to sand the pieces down. I love this.
My brother and dad were very much into woodworking back in the day, and I have many memories from my childhood of watching them work and create beautiful pieces of wood "art" so-to-speak. I would love it if Lane would also develop this interest and build things. Actually, I have a whole list of items I can think of right now :) Maybe between both grandpas and an uncle, he'll develop some of those creative skills and use them.
As soon as Jay's dad mentioned the sander, I had an instant flashback to an incident involving the belt sander when I was a youngster. I can't recall many details except these two main points: I was told NOT to use the belt sander or any of the power tools without supervision, and I did not listen.
For whatever reason I felt I needed to use the belt sander at that moment, I do not remember, but I did...knowing I wasn't supposed to, and guess what happened? I got hurt and had to spill the beans. Dang it, that always happened to me!
I ended up shaving or sanding, I guess, the top of my pointer finger nail right off with that belt sander. Talk about a burning sensation. OUCH. I can still picture myself slowly making my way to the front door of the house from the shed, shielding my it-was-burning-so-bad finger behind my back and holding in the tears. I had no choice but to fess up, and I did. I can't recall if I got in trouble or not, maybe the rough nail removal was punishment enough. Either way, I still remember the sanding incident and the painful reminder that I was never very good at being sneaky.
Lane asked us if he thought his grandpa would help him make his this year. He had drawn up plans (that is so Lane) and had an idea of what he wanted it to look like and what he wanted to use to create it. He asked his Grandpa Wilhoit and he said yes. Grandpa W. has a workshop in his garage that is perfect for this kind of thing.
Last Sunday Lane went up there and they began their project. They worked some more on it Tuesday after school and it's coming along nicely, I am told. Tuesday night at the ball game, we were talking to Jay's parents about how the process was going and Jay's dad was describing it to us, telling us how Lane was using the sander to sand the pieces down. I love this.
My brother and dad were very much into woodworking back in the day, and I have many memories from my childhood of watching them work and create beautiful pieces of wood "art" so-to-speak. I would love it if Lane would also develop this interest and build things. Actually, I have a whole list of items I can think of right now :) Maybe between both grandpas and an uncle, he'll develop some of those creative skills and use them.
As soon as Jay's dad mentioned the sander, I had an instant flashback to an incident involving the belt sander when I was a youngster. I can't recall many details except these two main points: I was told NOT to use the belt sander or any of the power tools without supervision, and I did not listen.
For whatever reason I felt I needed to use the belt sander at that moment, I do not remember, but I did...knowing I wasn't supposed to, and guess what happened? I got hurt and had to spill the beans. Dang it, that always happened to me!
I ended up shaving or sanding, I guess, the top of my pointer finger nail right off with that belt sander. Talk about a burning sensation. OUCH. I can still picture myself slowly making my way to the front door of the house from the shed, shielding my it-was-burning-so-bad finger behind my back and holding in the tears. I had no choice but to fess up, and I did. I can't recall if I got in trouble or not, maybe the rough nail removal was punishment enough. Either way, I still remember the sanding incident and the painful reminder that I was never very good at being sneaky.
Friday, March 1, 2013
CORRECTION ON LUNCH
Correction from Friday's post. I swear I'll never understand how my mind works...or I guess how sometimes it doesn't. The Heritage Committee lunch is Sunday, March 24. So you have three weeks to prepare. All the other information is the same. My apologies to the committee and to anyone else who may be looking for lunch this Sunday...don't come to my house either because I'll be hunting as well.
How about Breakfast and Lunch?
Tomorrow, Saturday, March 2, the Martinsville Ag Fair will sponsor a sausage, biscuits and gravy breakfast at the Martinsville Fire House from 6:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m. It is free-will donation and the proceeds will be used at the fairgrounds.
Although the fair has come a long way and is now blessed with many supportive sponsors, there are still costs involved with maintaining and improving the fairgrounds and other associated expenses not covered by sponsors or state support. Please consider attending the breakfast and making a donation. The fair is now a non-for-profit organization so the donation is tax deductible.
On Sunday, March 24, at the Martinsville Community Center, the Heritage Committee is sponsoring a Soup, Sandwich and Dessert lunch. They will be serving from 11:30-1:30, and it is also a free-will donation. The Heritage Committee is planning something new this year at the National Road Festival, June 15 & 16, called "Heritage Days." Funds from this lunch will go to support events of that weekend.
At this time, there isn't a restaurant open in town on Saturdays or Sundays where people can eat and visit with others, so it' a good opportunity to fellowship with your neighbors and community members. And who doesn't enjoy food and fellowship?! You'll also be supporting two worthy causes that keep our wonderful small town going.
Although the fair has come a long way and is now blessed with many supportive sponsors, there are still costs involved with maintaining and improving the fairgrounds and other associated expenses not covered by sponsors or state support. Please consider attending the breakfast and making a donation. The fair is now a non-for-profit organization so the donation is tax deductible.
On Sunday, March 24, at the Martinsville Community Center, the Heritage Committee is sponsoring a Soup, Sandwich and Dessert lunch. They will be serving from 11:30-1:30, and it is also a free-will donation. The Heritage Committee is planning something new this year at the National Road Festival, June 15 & 16, called "Heritage Days." Funds from this lunch will go to support events of that weekend.At this time, there isn't a restaurant open in town on Saturdays or Sundays where people can eat and visit with others, so it' a good opportunity to fellowship with your neighbors and community members. And who doesn't enjoy food and fellowship?! You'll also be supporting two worthy causes that keep our wonderful small town going.
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