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Showing posts from February, 2008

oddities

Once when touring a musuem , I saw this rusty item that resembled a PVC joint (you know, one of the L-shaped tubes). I stood there wondering why that was in a museum. Then I read the description, and it read something like, "utensil from 315B.C." Yeah, right. Did it ever occur to the sun-stroked, volunteer-student archealogist , or the loopy college professor who never got fresh air, that the item could be any number of things? It could have been part of a handle on a water pitcher, or a pipe for running water, part of a machine, a spigot, or even a meat grinder! Sometimes I look at the things in my bathroom, and wonder what an excavator might label them 2,000 years down the road. I mean, look at a hairdryer. Would they consider that a weapon? The shape isn't all that different from a kitchen mixer. So how do all these people come up with such stuff? I don't always ponder such stuff, but my brother's comment about cave drawings got me to thinking. For s

artistic concepts

I don't hate sports; I'm just not crazy about them. I'm an Alabama fan, but I only watch one, maybe parts of two, football games a year. (My husband has threatened to revoke my fan status as he claims I only watch the games if he bothers to find out when they are and turn them on for me. He just doesn't understand the depth of fanship in AL.) Sometimes I almost wonder if certain men, like my husband, see sports as an art form. There's something exciting and riveting about watching a bunch of people huddle around a ball of some sort and sweat, grunt, bodily threaten, and exhaust themselves and each other. And occasionally, I don't mind watching or attending a game, and I especially enjoy them if the game is close. If I had to choose something athletic to do, it would probably be gymnastics, or colorguard , or winterguard . And yes, I realize all of those have something to do with dancing or rhythm. And while most Baptists gasp in horror at the very d-word,

deer food

Almost two weeks ago I started my first garden. My husband correctly pondered where I would find the time for a garden and reminded me that the deer would probably eat it. Yet, he didn't say no. When he spent a Friday night and Saturday helping me look at tillers and deciding which one was the most economical and practical for my height and strength, I figured I really had his blessing. Now even though both of my grandfathers had gardens and my Dad did several summers when I was a teenager, the closest I ever came to planting was dropping seeds in the ground. I never had to prepare the soil or weed, though I sometimes had to help pick, and always had to help shell, shuck, cut, blanch, or can whatever came in. Figuring out how to use the tiller wasn't that hard, but identifying the plants as they come up is. I THINK the slightly curled plant growing in the front is a budding snow pea. (Can you tell I'm excited?!!) But I'm not really sure. I know the long green st

cold remedies

I've about decided that the subject of colds is parallel to the subject of fishing: everyone THINKS they are an expert. For whatever bizarre, unnamed reason, I am now fighting my second, nasty cold for 2008. And the unsolicited, repetitious advice keeps coming. For example: #1: An allergy doctor recommended to a person that they should take 1,000mg of Vitamin C along with an alfalfa tablet every day. I have tried this on occasions when I have an allergy flare-up, and it does help. But for the common cold - nada . #2: Every night before going to bed, place Vicks-vapor-rub on your feet, along with cotton socks. If you do this every single night, you will not catch a cold. I'll refrain from commenting on this one. #3: You should take 500mg of Vitamin C every single day to boost your immune system. If you do this, you too will go without a cold for two years. I'll do without, but thanks. #4: You should wash your hands (or use anti-bacterial gel) every time you touch a

customer service

The three years I lived in China, my teammates and I would often joke/berate/complain/bemoan about the customer service (or lack thereof) in China. Don't get me wrong, the Chinese people are some of the friendliest and most helpful people I've ever met. But somehow that doesn't (or ten years ago it didn't) carry over to the realm of business. Perhaps it had something to do with working in a government owned store where there was little if any incentive to do a job well done. Regardless, it wasn't uncommon to walk into a department store, request to look at an item from the clerks (items were kept in glass cases or behind service desks so people wouldn't pocket them), and be told, "I'm busy." The clerk would then proceede to talk to her colleague, pick her nails, daydream, eat lunch, or whatever else suited her fancy. Or if they happened to be in a bad mood, they would say something totally ludicrous like, "We're out of that item" (

food fantasies

If I were heaven's dietician, instead of milk and honey, we would have Dr.Pepper, Sweat Tea, and chocolate with caramel (think Twix without the cookie). The manna thing sounds okay, but I fear it will be more of a cracker than Golden Corral's yeast rolls. And this tree of life that bears 12 fruits...are we going to have caramel dip or something go with it? If Bobby were to read this post, he would say my tastebuds are definitely depraved and corrupted and that I will have a restored body when I get to heaven so it won't matter. hmm. Needless to say, we got Bobby's bone density test results in. (For those of you who don't know, I kind of broke his leg 2.5 years ago and we discovered his bone density is atrociously bad - a long story for another point in time.) Once we overlap all these diverse food lists he has, three things emerge from every single one as good for him to eat: fish, liver, and eggs. I like fish (specifically the salmon, tuna, and mackeral they all

life and death

This last month I've been to three funerals - my coworker whose child came perfectly formed and stillborn at only 7.5 months; Bobby's Uncle Henry who had fought a long and courageous battle with cancer; and a friend from church whose father passed away. From the casket the size of my toolbox, to the bagpipes and flag-draped coffin, I'm coming to appreciate more and more how each and every day is truly a gift from God. Along those same lines, this morning's sermon was an "Ouch! Ow! Ouch!" one. From I Kings 19 we looked at a victorious servant of God who became discouraged and saw God's loving response to his pity-party. God kept bringing to mind thoughts and emotions from this past month where I've tried to handle things on my own instead of giving it to Him and looking at the many blessings and opportunities I have. The opportunity to grab each day and fill it to the fullest...an opportunity that for so many has now ended.