Random Musings

For the first time in my life, I've thought about taking the phone off the hook. Political phone ads...would you believe we've had five today? Parties claim they are very effective. They seem shocked that I'm willing to enter database entries but not make phone calls. It seems simple to me.  I don't like receiving them; I think they're a waste of time and money, so why should I make them and annoy other people? With one stop voting, I certainly think it's ironic that they're wasting my time when they can't sway my vote (not that they could anyway) because I've already voted. If I ever run for office (which is about as likely as me totally giving up chocolate), I don't think I'll allow them for  my campaign.  Twitter, Facebook, and other annoying venues...yes.  Phone calls...nope.

It is crunch time for me, in so many ways. I really, truly need to do some crunches. The kids' party at church is tonight.  Yeah, as in 9 hours away. Election work starts tomorrow.  10 am pickup of supplies. The afternoon to read through everything. Sunday finalize the Christmas play list. Monday "on-call" for 9 hours, as well as posting signage at 4 sites (2 new polling places, 2  "your precinct has moved" places). Tuesday is THE DAY!!! I don't know why I tense up around election day.  Dread of the long hours, the unknown (from crazy people who don't know where or when they registered, whether by mail or at the DMV but are adamant that they should be able to vote because they're an American citizen, to people who get upset because a candidate they like from a tv commercial isn't on THEIR ballot and should be), the extra responsibilities...those are all possibilities.  But either way, the day always comes and it always ends so I really sho

I grew up in Walker County, Alabama.  It's a coal mining community. It's hilly and full of pines. It's tornado alley. Literally. Growing up, we had two sets of drills: fire drills and tornado drills.  Heaven forbid  you get the three short and one long bell mixed up and go outside thinking it's a fire drill when it's really a REAL tornado drill.  Your principal will turn fire engine red in the face screaming at your class while flapping his arms like a windmill. Seriously. In case you didn't know it, they claim "tornado season" is the spring and fall.  Though Walker Countians know a tornado can came any time the weather is funky, as it is prone to be in the south. So imagine my surprise to come home to TWO messages on the answering machine.  Imagine my even bigger surprise to discover they were from my first grade niece.  The sirens are going off, and the weather man said that the first round of the storm was in North Carolina. Silly Aunt Monica

Reasons why I could never be a politician: My ads would offend people. No one wants to hear about personal sacrifice and responsibility.   Everyone wants to blame someone else and not admit we all have/had a role in the current place we're in. I'm a pro.  (pro-life, pro-creator, pro-gun, pro-minimalist government, etc) I'd probably tell some whining constituent to "build a bridge and get over it". I'd tell the media if they really wanted to create news, then get active in their communities. I'd offend my Christian base by adhering too closely to the "freedom to practice religion", including All religions, for Americans. I'd offend my non-Christian voters by running my campaign/office the way I run my life...praying in the name of Jesus. I'd actually have to small talk with people, which I hate. Critics would drive me crazy commenting on my lack of "style" in hair and clothes. In two weeks, all the nasty political ads

I'm still sorting/tackling the last few piles in my art/sewing room, and came across my portfolio and photographs my design and photography class.  I decided to take some of my favorite pics, frame them, and hang them in the room.  I've got two of them ready to go, but the other two need to be printed. So I stopped at Target on the way home from the gym this morning, and the photo lab doesn't open until noon.  Bah humbug.  Maybe I"ll just take them to CVS when I head out for errands. And frustration was mounting late Saturday night as I attempted to finalize the kids Christmas program and prepare parts and a letter for Sunday morning. How do you adequately present the Christmas story with 31 kids, five of whom may or may not show up when they are supposed to? So I'm cheating.  I'm doing something I've never done before.  I'm reusing an old play.  I've pulled up the re-enactment from two years ago, modifying parts, changing stage directions (the bl

My senior year of high school I was a part-time cashier at Son's Grocery Store in Cordova, Alabama.  Sadly, it no longer exists.  That was back in the day before the cool laser scanners, and we had conveyor belts operated by a switch or foot pedal that had to be cleaned every so many customers and we had to manually punch in each item, as well as weigh the produce.  Yeah, I'm that old. :) There were many things on that first job that surprised my naive 18-year-old self. One of them was the various "pockets" women used.  I had always heard older women call purses "pocketbooks" and I never really thought a whole lot about it.  Until the day I had a lady in a dress tell me, "Hang on, hun'. I gotta get my stamps outta my pocket."  (Stamps here being food stamps. They were paper money in booklet form back in the day, as opposed to today's debit card format.) I'm thinking she has a purse in the buggy (how many dresses have pockets in them?),

I think there must be a "recommendation" in the Bible that I've missed.  It probably reads something like this: "Thou shouldst not use thy time loosely.  Don't give your word or time to a cause until you know you can fulfill it."  That HAS to be the reason why so many Christians are averse to sign-up sheets, right?  It doesn't matter where I've been (AL, TN, SC, NC), which denomination, what church, it seems to be the general principle that people simply do not sign up for things. There's even been an article about Christian singers/concerts at major venues.  If they sell out at all, it's always at the last minute.  Secular concerts?  Their tickets sell out quickly. Now, I could argue that the reason for this is that Christians faithfully devote one of their two off-days to church and at least one night during the week to church, so therefore they don't have all the extra spare time that non-churchies have. But I think, sadly, closer to

I keep hearing people talk about the "distressed" look in painting.  Basically, it's where you don't prime something before you paint and only do a half-way job on the paint job, allowing the original color to "shine" through.  I'm 99% positive both my grandmother and my Mom would say "Somebody didn't know what they were doing!"  And it really makes me wonder how much of it is the whole "Emperor's New Clothes" story being told again.  You know, where some artist was in a hurry, liked the semi-finished look, others came over and instead of commenting on the person only doing a half-way job made a comment about the furniture being in distress, and voila - a new fad is born.  And all the while it's only a sorry paint job, but no one dared point that out.  No,  no, I'm really not being cynical this early in the morning. My brain actually ponders such random things. And on a less cynical note, I received a forwarded e-mai

Okay, my apologies to Braun Enterprises.  According to my contact at Van Products, they (BE) have a contract with Chrysler.  Chrysler is the company saying adamantly NO WAY to modifications.  And the other modification manufacturer of choice, also cannot get an agreement with them.  Evidently, it's not just Chrysler, but all vehicles.  These "advanced" computer wired vehicles make it next to impossible (legally anyway) to modify. And like I had been told, Braun was started by a man in a wheelchair, and he is still head of the company.  So there's no one I can call and petition, no one I can invite to come live our lives for a day or two, nowhere else to turn (humanly wise) in this saga. And you no what?  That's okay. Like so many other things, we'll make this work. And there is a bright side...horse and buggies aren't accessible either, so I don't have to worry about caring for a horse. :)  That would be a nightmare indeed!

technology... There's nothing more aggravating than upgrading your computer, only to find out that the new keyboard and mouse are absolutely not disability friendly. Our solution: keep using the old ones with the new hard-drive. Thank God for adaptors! There's nothing more annoying than visiting FIVE different cell phone carriers and not A SINGLE ONE has a phone workable for moderately disabled fingers.  Sale clerks seem dumbfounded by the problem, and sympathetically shrug. Our solution: a cheap-o pay as you go phone from Wal-mart that we hot-glued an elastic strip to the back. BUT , when "modern" technology on vehicles enters the scene, it's a whole new ballgame. Cell phones and mice are modified necessities.  A vehicle is an absolute necessity.  I really don't care that cars now have computer chip drives in them to make them safer.  I could care less that if the manufacturer grants permission to have things rewired they would be in major troubl

Last Thursday my mother-in-law and I attended a quilt show at JCC. There was quite a variety at quilts.  Some were at least 75 years old, and others were fairly new. Here were some of my favorites:  This quilt was created by a church, and each quilter embroidered their name in the center blocks. I like how they filled the plain blocks with a simple quilt design.   Another quilt fundraiser from the same church, but this time each member paid 25cents to have their name embroidered on the quilt (I don't remember if it was made in the late '70s or early 80's).  Once finished, the quilt was auctioned.  The purchaser donated it back to the church. I loved simplicity.  I think this would make a great family tree quilt or church charter wall-hanging.  I love the 3d block pattern, you can arrange it so many different ways and get a wide variety of styles. The only bad thing is that seeing different styles and patterns always makes me want to head home and forget about everyth

It's October. Just thought I'd throw that out in case you hadn't realized it. Next month is November, which means Turkey Day, Iron Bowl, a trip to Alabama and goodness knows what else. It also means Na tional No vel Wri ting Mo nth.  You start November 1st and write like crazy. No corrections, no editing, just simple, straight, out-right, rough-draft writing. They even have a website, as well as a Raleigh-Durham support group. I started one year and quit about day four. Dare I try again? Do I tackle an outline and one of the two story lines that keep filtering in and out of the fuzzy section in my brain? Should I buy and wear this sweatshirt? Life is so full of choices.

The Little Red Hen Club was the scene of a brutal attack and multiple murders around 1am, October 12, 2010.  A small fox was caught in the spot light, but due to its ability to run and hide in the dark quickly  has yet to be captured. The door to the small red hen house was partially destroyed and is slated for repairs today. The Rhode Island hen named Red is the only walking survivor. Owners of the Little Red Hen Club are checking into the possibility of night gear to help apprehend the suspected criminal.  Rooster, (also known by the names of Handsome, Ugly, and Sweetie Pie) was seriously injured during the battle and is not expected to make it through the night.  Hilda, missing in action, presumed dead.  Spot, missing in action. Presumed dead.  Little buff. KIA  Grey. Beheaded.  Big Buff. Slaughtered. Little Bit. Presumed dead on 10.11.10 Not shown: Black, Little Bit's Mom. KIA.

www.keepsakequilting.com If you visit the above link, scroll to the bottom of the page.  Click on News&Events, then the words "New!  Challenge Gallery" It will take a few minutes for everything to load, but you can start looking at all the pictures by clicking on a picture of the first quilt.  I was impressed and amazed at all the different quilts submitted! And speaking of quilts, I have reached the half-way point on Bobby's quilt! WHOOHOOO!!!

When I think bow tie, I think of a tuxedo. For ordinary people, I only think of bow ties when I think of dress attire for philosophers, historians, some musicians, writers.  In other words, those who march to their own drumbeat. So imagine my surprise when Belk started advertising bow ties in their dress section.  I've debated buying one for various family members, but the reality is, I just can't see any of the menfolk in my family wearing one. Of all the men I know, I can only think of two who could pull off wearing a bow tie. One is the music leader at our church, and the other is my brother-in-law Rex. Ladies, what do you think?  A) Would you want your husband to wear a bow tie?  and B) Would he?

Yesterday during our AM sermon on Colossians 3 and the importance of our attitude in jobs http://cbministry.net/sermons.shtml (it's the first one), I could help but think about my attitude toward housework.  Other than my mother, I can't think of anyone who enjoys washing dishes or sweeping floors. And yet, every time I do that job I should do it as if I were doing it for the Lord. Quite honestly, I don't think such a thought has ever crossed my mind when I scrubbed the toilet or fought the in-ground dirt in the kitchen floor. And while I really don't think God cares one iota about the cleanliness level of my house, He does care about my attitude. Do I moan and groan over these seemingly inconsequential never-ending tasks, or do I tackle them with joy and gladness? So after giving myself the above luke-warm pep-rally, here's a list of my favorite cleaning products:  This what my mother had us use on all furniture and kitchen cabinets growing up. And I love it,

For Kevan and Becky and Lydia and Sharon, and all my other friends who are hurting and struggling through these days: Psalm 56:8 I can't bear your burden. I can't carry your pain. But my heart still hurts for you and cries out just the same. Feelings I may never know, Fears I cannot see, I learn to give a warm embrace And give you some reprieve. The Spirit brings your name to mind Again I kneel in prayer. I cannot find the words to say. Lord, let them feel You there. You have a record of my tears. You know my sundry thoughts. Is the sea your bottle? The sand its stopper? The wanderings my many thoughts? Laughter is like medicine. To you once again I cry. Restore my broken spirit; Help my soul to fly. He is... I am... and the fillers list grows long. When circumstances chill my soul God's faithful to bring song.

Science projects...I don't remember having many of those as a child.  So I found it neat and fun that a friend of mine was collecting bugs for her son. Not just any bugs, mind you, but specifically, insects.  And I've learned a few cool things these last two weeks while looking and listening. We had a yellow jacket nest outside the door which I sprayed and easily bagged up.  There were wasp nests on the front porch, but evidently they've abandoned the nest (or else heard the eldest J was coming to get 'em), for there's no wasps to be seen the last few weeks. We knocked down a few dirt dauber's nests and pulled two apart.  We didn't get a complete dauber, but we get enough broken parts in the nests that it should count. Since the Mom wasn't familiar with this crazy insect, and I was woefully ignorant, I googled it.  Turns out the dirt dauber has three different names throughout the US. The south calls it dirt dauber or mud dauber.  The west calls it mud

At the age of 20 two dramatic things happened in my life.  One, my Christian service assignment was a ladies Bible study at the Nashville Rescue Mission.  Two, as part of my Missions degree, I spent 6 weeks in Ivory Coast, West Africa learning to analyze cultures. Experience number one made several impacts, the most memorable being a study where the ladies angrily and verbally attacked the group leader doing the study. Her lesson was on salvation, and they blew up when she started up about everyone being a sinner. Their questions and anger startled me. Our group leader, like me, grew up in nice Christian homes. Our clothes may not have been new and our food may not have been exquisite, but we always had clean clothes on our backs and food on our table at every meal. We had a loving environment.  The same could not be said for these ladies. I wish the person in charge of service assignments had given us the first two weeks of preparation time to learn about the mission, its people, an

I finished reading a children's book "Boy in the Striped Pajamas" this morning, a middle-grade historical fiction that has a unique point of view on the holocaust. As always, the book and the movie have large differences, but the main plot sticks to the same premise. Nothing like something as horrific as the Holocaust can help slap your priorities into place.  I am such a spoiled brat.  Here am I aggravated because this stupid cold makes it difficult to breathe and our phones and internet are out for day 6 of this month, when I am living in the land of the free.  I have a Christian brother about my age in prison in China who has been sentenced to 25-30 years, essentially a life sentence, and whose fifteen year old son and wife are struggling to get by without his income.  He is denied the opportunity to appeal, usually denied his monthly visits by his wife and attorney, and I complain because I have a cold. I don't understand the horrors of war, of hate, and of ig

I enjoy blogging.  I like Facebook. But I would have never considered myself an internet junkie. Until now. For the third time in two weeks, we are without internet and phone service. I am at my mom-in-laws to satisfy my "needs." And in all sincerity, I am expecting three e-mails about times/meetings for this weekend. It would be bad to show up at the wrong time somewhere. But those three e-mails aside, it's really not a necessity to update my blog, read all the blog feeds, check facebook, or visit a website or two. And the scary thing?  I've gotten a whole lot more housework and projects done since our internet has been so skittish this last week.  As much as a I love the world wide web, I am astounded at how much of my life it has absconded.  Seriously. Like chocolate and sweet tea, I'm not ready to give it  up, but I am starting to wonder if it's time to enforce the "moderation in all things" mantra to my life. Excess, indulgence, g