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Thursday, June 30, 2005
I also spent some time today preparing for communion on Sunday -- setting up servers, arranging for the proper bread and so on so that communion will go well on Sunday.
I spent time going through the food in the house, disposing of old items and and junk food. All this activity has caused me to wonder -- what behaviors and habits is it time for me to clean up and sort -- or dispose of entirely? I feel the need to get ready and I wonder for what? Where am I going? What am I leaving behind?
Or -- maybe I just think too much.
Found: *two* count them, *two* one gallon plastic ice cream buckets full of various colors of dryer lint. For paper making experiments, obviously.
Found: 6 complete sets of Daisy Girls Scout petals, 5 World Association pins, 6 Daisy GS pins, 100 "God and Country Daycamp" patches, various and sundry Brownie Try-its, around 100 other Girls Scout patches, large and small.
Found: the laundry sink. Full of, shock of shockers, *books.* Imagine that.
Found: Vicar of Dibley DVDs. Time Life Praise and Worship CDs. Two picnic baskets. 5 umbrellas. Socks behind the washer. Little kitty sleeping in the rag box. 3 Bibles. Lots and lots of lint behind washer and dryer. 15 ballcaps. Knives and an old food processer.
I'm now watching the Vicar of Dibley. To make sure that the DVDs are OK, of course.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
I now have several things in my Prayer Aids section -- including an online rosary, Ken Collin's prayer builder and Mission Saint Clare. I have indexed most of my Lectionary stuff and some of my poetry.
This morning I had a surprise -- I was drying the sand from the kid's two foot tall hourglasses that they made last week. Wet sand does not flow well. I poured the sand into a pan, put it in the oven and dried it out. I left it on the stove to cool. Little kitty found the pan of sand. It is no long dry. 'Nuff said. I now have evidence that she isn't sleeping *all* the time.
I am sorting through junk from the utility room. I want to go through all the stuff I have accumulated over the last few years and properly dispose of those things that need, well, disposing of. (A preposition is a terrible thing to end a sentence with. Don't you think?) I am starting with the smallest of rooms and hope to move into the larger of rooms. Please wish this intrepid explorer luck! Who knows what we will find?
Monday, June 27, 2005
BTW, John's posting about the changes in the Methodist candidacy system is reaching a new high -- I sent it to a friend who sent it to the Director of Spiritual Formation of our conference who is sending it to all 66 members of our Board of Ordained Ministry. They think it's a hoot. Just think John, you now have become SPAM -- your words are being email to dozens or hundreds or thousands across the web. Wow, I am in awe. Next it will make Wesley Blog perhaps or the UMNS. What fame!!
Saturday, June 25, 2005
I owe the discovery of this wonderful website in which we find discussions on the theological concerns of public bathroom design. OK. Ne-e-e-xt.
To News 24's The Back Pages comes this article:
Look, it's 'Shower Jesus'
Washington - A US man has sold for almost $2 000 on eBay a water-stained piece of plaster from his bathroom wall that bears an uncanny resemblance to the image of Jesus Christ, its purchaser said on Thursday.
GoldenPalace.com, an internet casino known for making such purchases, said it bought the piece of plaster bearing the reputed image of Jesus for $1 999 from a Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania man.
It said the image appeared to Jeffrey Rigo, 30, as he stepped out of the shower on June 11, prompting him to cut the plaster piece from his wall and put it up for bid on the auction portal under the name "Shower Jesus".
Why do these things amuse me so?
For my friend Eunice, who is a funeral director and just had surgery, I promise not to get you anything from here. Maybe.
For my friend Mike of Sites Unseen. I encourage you to explore their site. Now. Especially if you have need for online resources or time to spare....
Finally, a new way to pray using the Lava Lamp. I don't know what to think about it. Can it be any worse than my Prayer Bot?
And another finally, I am erasing myself from Cyberspace, following Songbird of Set Free. I have submitted my URL for deletion from Google, however, the WayBackMachine will still index me, I think. Ah if it were so easy to delete other problems/gaffs/etc. Of course, prayers of forgiveness should do this in the eyes of God, but we still live with the consequences of our actions. Still working through this.
Friday, June 24, 2005
When I was teaching I had at least two students who were considered "intersex." A better word might be "hermaphodite" but the word used now is "intersex." There are many, many different genetic anomalies that effect sex. And I am not even going to touch the concept of sexual orientation -- just plain old gender.
These include (but are not limited to):
Lyon hypothesis (X-inactivation)
Klinefelter's Syndrome (including 46XY/47XXY, 47XXY, 48XXYY, 48XXXY, 49XXXXY,XXXY Males)
Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia
pure gonadal dysgenesis (in which the person appears female externally, but is genetically male)
Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (in which there are a host of differing presentations)
There are others. Each of these syndromes is relatively rare, yet there are so many of them that are currently identifiable that it is estimated that up to 1 out of 22 people have a genetic anomaly that will effect gender assignment.* With this information, who is to say? Suppose a person is an outward female who is testosterone intolerant - that is, a male whose switch never turned on. Genetically the person is male. Which of the rules apply? Is this person allowed ministry under, say, Roman Catholicism? Technically, no.
How about a baby who had a "circumcision accident." The family gives the child hormonal treatments to appear female. Later the child decides to discontinue treatment and becomes male. He appears neither male nor female, having no secondary or primary sexual organs. Can he be ordained?
Or the child whose mother took perscription drugs that have skewed sexual characteristics -- and the baby has indetermine sex?
What makes a person female? Male? Absence/presence of secondary or primary sexual organs and characteristics? Self identification -- that is what the person considers themself?
Is the couple in which there is a normally appearing genetic male is married to a female person who is a genetic male a homosexual couple? Remember, until these persons are tested (usually when it is found they cannot conceive), they believe them self to be female, yet they are genetically male.
Discuss among yourselves.
*Statistic comes from the mouth of my OBGYN. I could not verify, but I trust that she knows of what she speaks.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
I know it must be good b/c I have been spammed by it *twice* today and once yesterday.
Personally, I need a Board of Candidate Discipline for use at home. And us Candler Grads can chug *way more* wine that a quart in 3 minutes. Way More.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
|What military aircraft are you?|
You are an F/A-22. You are technologically inclined, and though you've never been tested in combat, your very name is feared. You like noise, but prefer not to pollute any more than you have to. And you can move with the best.
|Click Here to Take This Quiz|
Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.
You're Watership Down!
by Richard Adams
Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd
be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
I don’t know who I am looking
This way and that for external forms
Of validation, of approval, of acceptance
Of blessing, or dare I even breathe it,
Time and time again I ask for God to
Use me, to call me a worthy vessel, for God
To keep me close, to shelter me, to show me love
I feel the grit of the sand and not its softness,
I feel my shadowside, I feel the dark
I feel the coldness of abandonment or maybe of
Abandon I cry out I want more
But can’t express what is more knowing always the less.
I cannot be more, there isn’t more
Existence is it answer enough in itself
Or will there ever be a time where
I will know that I am enough
there are days where
I don’t know who I am.
Do not use your Marshmallow Blow Gun without first checking for fire ants.
Fire ants can and will bite your tongue and lips.
No, you will not die.
Yes, it hurts a lot.
Yes, Entropy is allergic to fire ants.
Swelling and hives and blotchiness are not a bad things, as long as you can still breathe.
Swallowing a fire ant will not kill you.
Doctors are good people. Knowing the location of the epi-pen is a good thing, even if you don't use it. Ice is a good thing. Benedryl is a good thing. Rocking chairs are a good thing. Sleep in Mama's arms is a good thing.
Now the Mama is tired.
Here's Catblogging really, really late. Or really early, depending. The kitty is not moving much this summer -- she's sleeping a lot.
If you are Methodist and really, really want to geek out, check out the Annual Conference summary page on UMC.org. I think I want to go to the Alaska Missionary Conference. It sounds cool. Really cool. Like it's not above freezing for much of the year. And where else can you be part of a Tongan Fellowship or a Hmong Fellowship? The statistics are interesting -- Dean Snyder is tracking some of them.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
"Piddle lig, piddle lig, ket me lum in!"
"Not by the chuzz on my finny fin fin!"
"Then I'll larf and I'll barf and I'll hoe your blouse down!"
Really really funny if you are sleep deprived and had a couple of glasses of wine and someone begins giggling.
I guess you had to be there....
Friday, June 17, 2005
This is, by the way, a Yipee! moment. Titles left to go: Probitionary Member then Elder. Lord willing and crick don't rise. Only, what, 5 or 6 more years??
Update to the Update:
Jay's famous! Check it out here. Front page of UMC.org. Too cool. Yeah Jay!
Thursday, June 16, 2005
These are the Chalices that are being used for communion this week.
Here is the communion table as it was set for the memorial service on Tuesday.
This is the choir for the ordination service on Tuesday night.
Here's a (discreet) shot of Bishop Lindsay Davis speaking at the ordination service.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
As I was looking through my books for a Bible that included the Apocrypha a while back, I found the Bible my Maternal Grandparents gave me when I was 7 years old. While I flipped through its pages an old white index card fell out along with a couple of Xeroxed sheets of paper. And I remembered.
I was sitting in a hospital room with my wheelchair bound Grandfather, who I called Papa. Papa was always my Papa. He took care of me when I was very little because both of my parents worked. I always assumed that everybody had a Papa. He fed me and dressed me, held my hand when I crossed the street, carried me when I was tired. Now I was watching him watch his wife of 15 years die of the same cancer that had claimed my natural grandmother 20 years before. Mama had left us there for a while so that she and Daddy could go and get some sleep. Polly had a fast moving cancer that had started in her liver and moved to her brain. She had not been conscious and lucid for several days. Everyone said that it was a relief because she had been in so much pain, but I sat in the presence of pain that night. People had come and visited and Papa wrote their names down on a little index card that he kept in his pocket. I knew later that night when we got home it would join several of its brothers on Papa’s dresser. I watched him hold Polly’s hand as her breathing became rougher and slower. I watched him as he stroked her hair. Her face was as gray as her hair. We all knew that it was just a matter of time.
Papa rolled his gray wheelchair back to the other side of the room to get his Bible. I watched as he laboriously picked it up in his gnarled hands. He had rheumatoid arthritis for so long that I couldn’t remember when his hands had been flexible and strong and young. He thumbed through the pages and started to read. I smiled at myself because he was holding the Bible upside down.
“Papa, what 'cha doing?”
“Oh, I’m reading Hebrews. I am getting so many blessings out of it!”
“Oh, yeah?”, I said in my sarcastic teenaged way.
“Just listen ‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. For by it the elders obtained a good report. Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear. These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. God having provided some better thing for us......some better thing.’”
I was quiet. Papa sat quietly with his worn red Bible in his hands, upside down. He wept. He didn’t cry or sob. He wept. I watched the tears course down his face like rivers in reverse, the tributaries of tears divided by his wrinkles again and again until his entire face was wet and the collar of his shirt was damp. His shirt was an old red plaid shirt that she had washed a thousand times. I could still see the shiny marks her iron had made on the points of his collar. I looked at Papa and for the first time in a very long time I saw him. I saw his faded brown driving cap. The stitching that said “Kangaroo” was coming unraveled in the back. He always wore a cap to keep his bald head warm. I remember polishing that perfectly bald head with baby oil and dusting it with baby powder. I remember patting his feathery little white fringe with my baby hands. I remember marveling at its smooth warmness. I saw his white tee shirt peeking out from under his shirt. I saw his bony wrists as he held his Bible. I saw his baggy pants that had the knees worn out by many hours of kneeling in his garden and kneeling in prayer. I saw the black and white running shoes that would never run. I saw love watching his Love die.
After a while he took out his index card and his red “teacher” pen. I watched him write words on that card that looked as if they were written in blood. Eventually his head nodded forward and he dozed. His Bible slipped on the floor, but he held onto that little card. Curious I went over to see what he had written. It said:
Mrs. Cora from Epworth
Then he had drawn a line and written.
You Polly and Theron Sr will in HEAVEN be
some day where there is no pain no sickness
For Polly and me will be in heaven.
When I was looking at the card, he woke up and saw me. He pressed the card into my hands and said, “Now Teeda Bug, you keep this card. You keep it and remember.”
I took it home and put it in my Bible at Hebrews 11 along with the words of “Faith of my Fathers.”
“Faith of my Fathers, Holy Faith.
We will be true to thee till death.”
That card had been in my Bible for several years now. Years of stress and pain, joy and wonder. It was there until just a little while back when I picked that old Bible again and the card fell out.
And I remembered.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Monday, June 13, 2005
Last book(s) I bought: I have to go to Amazon to find out -- Reaching Out without Dumbing Down, Making Love Last a Lifetime: Biblical Perspectives on Love, Marriage, and Sex (Making Love Last a Lifetime), John Wesley's Sermons: An Anthology, IBS Commentary on Genesis, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Prayer, a silly Shopaholic book.
Last book I read: The silly shopaholic book and the Complete Idiot's Guide to Prayer.
Five books that mean a lot to me: (well, the Bible of course but let's look at others)
The Three Musketeers -- read bunches and bunches of times, since third grade.
Something from Anne Lamott -- maybe Traveling Mercies.
Private Pilot's Handbook or Angle of Attack: Harrison Storms and the Race to the Moon. Or maybe The Bishop's Boys.
Witness by Tom Long or The Heart of Christianity by Marcus Borg.
Book of Common Prayer.
I am supposed to tag five people. I say, tag yourself. If you want to participate, be welcome. If you don't -- that's OK too.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Saturday, June 11, 2005
I had an Minolta Dimage (and before that a Sony and before that a Canon and before that a Sony -- this will be my 4th or 5th digital -- oh yeah, I also had a Vivitar and two generic things from Radio Shack. Wow, I guess that makes 8.) - It was a great little camera -- and took great pictures, but I really put cameras through the gristmill and it's got a couple of problems.
I purchased a Nikon D70 after playing for a while with a Nikon D100 (after playing for a while with a D1). It's a good and relatively inexpensive camera (compared with the D1X) and should be rugged enough to endure for quite a while.
It's two things that limit resolution in a camera -- the optics and the CCD array. Most cameras do not have the optics to match their CCD array. I would purchase really good optics if you are going for a fixed lens camera (meaning that you cannot change the lenses.) Look for the words "Optical zoom" and not Digital Zoom. You will get better results that way. Look at the apature (diameter) of the lens. The bigger they are around, the better they will collect light and the better the image. Digital cameras tend to either be made by Computer type companies or Camera type companies (with a few exceptions). The ones made by Camera type companies are most of the time easier to use (a real generalization, I know.)
I have been a camera junkie for a long, long time and have quite a collection of Nikon bits and pieces. I now have consolidated to two camera bodies -- a film camera (Nikon 8008 -- old and very heavy, but very reliable) and the D70 - they can share my flip-frame, they share the Speedlight 28 flash and most lenses. The Speedlight will not do all that the newer flashes will do, but only looses two modes of operation on the D70. The only thing that the two cameras don't share is the remote and media (film vs. flash memory card.) They even share most methods of operation -- not much of a learning curve between the cameras.
I now only own three film cameras that are usable -- an ancient double lens reflex purchased by my father in 1948, my husband's 25 year old Pentax and my 8008. I've owned many others -- I loved the F3, FG, FM cameras -- each for a different reason. The F3 didn't work really well after I dropped it.... As I said, the 8008 is such a solid camera and a really good buy for the money. It's still very easy to use -- the programmed modes are easy to understand, but it can also be fully automatic.
I own about 6 Nikon lenses, a couple of them are broken or have problems. My favorite is a Nikkor that is easily 15 years old, but the optics are excellent, the weight is nice and is a 35-135 -- a good all around lens. I used a doubler on my 70-300 and got a 600 lens that I used this weekend -- and the D70 had no problem with camera shake. Excellent. Next test will be in an airplane and I will see if I get too much motion or if the camera will be OK with the lenses that I already own.
My next widget will be the wireless unit to put in the camera so that I can shoot directly to the laptop. Too cool!!
Very much a camera geek, am I not? I'm planning on shooting a lot at conference next week -- and maybe I'll get some more in the conference paper.
End of Boring Camera Posting.
| You scored as Emergent/Postmodern. You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this.|
What's your theological worldview?
created with QuizFarm.com
Without the fill flash -- what a difference.
And here is Entropy, aka Little Miss Mischief.
This is definitely a taking pictures season -- I love this new camera. I love taking pictures, anyway, but when the tool is such a quality tool, something that is pleasure becomes true joy. And I wonder if that is not what the Kingdom will be -- when the tool becomes so refined and polished that things that were just pleasure become unspeakable Joy.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
So it's up to me to nurture me. What would my perfect day look like?
• B'fast made by my Loving Husband,
• Road trip to nowhere (I love roadtrips that don't really go anywhere, just wander around and see what there is to see.) Usually not in the city, but the deep country. In the summer between Monroe/ Conyers/ Social Circle/ Oxford area to all the way down to Juliette and Warm Springs. In the summer. In the Fall up to Sautee and Helen, Toccoa and the gorge.
• Watch people throw pottery or blow glass.
• Shopping in Social Circle, Conyers, Monroe, Lawrenceville in all those "red hat" shops. Talk to all the shop owners and see if we know any of the same people.
• Boiled peanuts, surprise antique shops, flying ”around the patch," Coke in the little bottle, ice cold. Ice cream at the airport and hangerfly for a while.
• Taking pictures of all sorts of things with a really good camera: architectural elements, doors, windows, churches, church doors and windows, steeples, hands, birds, eyes, flowers, clouds, small animals, gravestones, airplanes, chairs, cars, trees, shells, water and of course my children.
• Pull out the watercolors and paint in a greenhouse with a half dozen of my artist friends. Have the kids their own watercolor block and let them paint. See what they will do. Garden a litte.
• Read a little bit under a tree or in a porch swing after lunch. Or on the beach. Write a little.
• Sit on a sun-warmed rock in the deep shade in the mountains, by a creek after a hike or drift in the currents in a sun warmed ocean and playing in the sand – or fly a kite with the kids.
• A little more shopping and picture taking -- Maybe ending up either at that wonderful place in Warm Springs to eat dinner or at the Shakespeare Festival with a picnic prepared by "An Affair to Remember" and have a really good bottle of wine with all my friends. Have some pate and champagne and invite the cast to join me after the show.
• Maybe even Evensong at the Cathedral of Saint Phillip or Midnight Mass where there is really good music and incense. As a pew-warmer, holding my Loving Husband’s hand and the kids snuggling up close.
• Taking pictures at sunset.
• Sit on the front porch after midnight wrapped in a handmade quilt on a stormy night with my Husband and feel the storm on my face.
What's your perfect day?
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Second, Open Source radio program about religion on-line from NPR featuring Real Live Preacher and Sarah Dylan Bruer here.
Fourth, Lost Episode Guide.
Fifth, I need to tell Xpatriated Texan that I am related to Tom DeLay. But, please, don't hold it against me. I'm also related to Claude Atkins, Marie DeLay of Julliard, Van Cliborn, the first governor of Louisana, the first governor of the Jamestown colony and the first man hung in Georgia for horse thievery. Hey, that's almost full circle -- from Tom DeLay to horse thievery.
There are 27 letters in your name.
Those 27 letters total to 128
There are 12 vowels and 15 consonants in your name.
Your number is: 11
The characteristics of #11 are: High spiritual plane, intuitive, illumination, idealist, a dreamer.
The expression or destiny for #11:
Your Expression number is 11. The number 11 is the first of the master numbers. It is associated with idealistic concepts and rather spiritual issues. Accordingly, it is a number with potentials that are somewhat more difficult to live up to. You have the capacity to be inspirational, and the ability to lead merely by your own example. An inborn inner strength and awareness can make you an excellent teacher, social worker, philosopher, or advisor. No matter what area of work you pursue, you are very aware and sensitive to the highest sense of your environment. Your intuition is very strong; in fact, many psychic people and those involved in occult studies have the number 11 expression. You possess a good mind with keen analytical ability. Because of this you can probably succeed in most lines of work, however, you will do better and be happier outside of the business world. Oddly enough, even here you generally succeed, owing to your often original and unusual approach. Nonetheless, you are more content working with your ideals, rather than dollars and cents.
The positive aspect of the number 11 expression is an always idealistic attitude. Your thinking is long term, and you are able to grasp the far-reaching effects of actions and plans. You are disappointed by the shortsighted views of many of your contemporaries. You are deeply concerned and supportive of art, music, or of beauty in any form.
The negative attitudes associated with the number 11 expression include a continuous sense of nervous tension; you may be too sensitive and temperamental. You tend to dream a lot and may be more of a dreamer than a doer. Fantasy and reality sometimes become intermingled and you are sometimes very impractical. You tend to want to spread the illumination of your knowledge to others irrespective of their desire or need.
Your Soul Urge number is: 1
A Soul Urge number of 1 means:
Your Soul Urge is the number 1. With a Soul Urge number of 1, you want to lead and direct, to work independent of supervision, by yourself or with subordinates. You take pride in you abilities and want to be recognized for them. You may seek opportunities to display your strength and usefulness, wanting to create and originate. In your desire to manage the big picture and the main issues, you may often leave the details to others.
The positive 1 Soul Urge is Ambitious and determined, a leader seeking opportunities. There is a great deal of honesty and loyalty in this character. If you possess positive 1 Soul Urge qualities, you are very attainment oriented and driven to success. You are a loyal friend and strictly fair in your business dealings.
The negative side of the 1 Soul Urge must be avoided. A negative 1 is apt to dominate situations and people; the home, the spouse, the family and the business. Emotions aren't strong in this nature. If you possess an excess of 1 energy, you may, at times, be boastful and egotistic. You must avoid being too critical and impatient of trifles. The great need of the 1 Soul Urge is the development of friendliness, and a sincere interest in people.
Your Inner Dream number is: 11
A Inner Dream number of 11 means:
You dream of casting the light of illumination; of being the true idealist. You secretly believe there is more to life than we can know or prove, and you would like to be provider of the 'word' from on high.
This is sort of freaky. Y'all try it out and see what you get. (Emphasis is mine.) Part of this are really strangely true. Wow.
Monday, June 06, 2005
When I had my lumpectomy in 1996, I developed a severe wound infection. The wound healed up so beautifully on the outside, yet there were 1000 cc of pus inside. I had to allow the surgeon to break open that wound and drain all the pus away. So many times our wounds and scars look so nice on the outside -- we think that we are completely healed and then the wound breaks open and the infection seeps out. After the wound was drained, I had at-home nurses come every day for 3 months to dress the wound with a wet dressing -- packing it with saline soaked gauze and letting it heal from the inside out. The scar is so very ugly now -- yet I am indeed healed.
So it is with grief -- we have to let out the infection. We cannot swallow it, repress it, deny it. We have to attend to it, dress it with prayer and memory and let it heal from the inside out. Otherwise it will poison us and something will die. This venue allows me to do that, hopefully in a safe manner -- in a way that is not harmful. So I will continue to grieve -- sporadically, getting caught unaware. I thank you again for the comments, prayers and encouragement.
The usual beach crowd. That's the Loving Husband.
An extremely crowded day. There *are* people in this shot. At least half a mile away.
Basecamp and the Loving Husband flying a kite.
Chaos and Entropy.
Trailer Sweet Trailer -- note that he *had* to use the laptop. But no wifi to be found for hundreds of miles.
My favorite store in the closest "big" town (20,000 people or so and more than 40 minutes away.) The closest Walmart is over a hour and a half away. The grocery store has one 4 by 4 section for toiletries and one entire aisle devoted to fishing gear. And another entire aisle devoted to beer. What more do you need? (Well, maybe wifi.)
And I will never, never, never reveal the location of Paradise. Otherwise it might become too crowded. Heh heh heh. But it's the same place Celestine Sibley used to go. Or just right of there.
The vacation to just right of Paradise was wonderful. Except for the trip down and back home again. It was a 7 "dead armadillo in the middle of the road" trip down and a 24 "dead armadillo in the middle of the road" trip back up (with 7 unidentifiable dead objects, 2 dead possum, 2 dead snakes, 1 box-turtle and one complete set of street hockey gear (and Entropy wanted to know if the hockey gear meant the hockey player had rotted away like armadillo do after a while leaving nothing but the carapace....))
It's a long trip when you start counting road kill.
I found out that an in-car DVD player is $288 at Sam's. Is this too much like closing the barn door after the horse escapes?
Me: (amused) No, sugar, we aren’t out of the subdivision yet. I’ll let you know when we are in Florida.
Mama, mama, mama, are we in Florida yet?
Me: (less amused) No, sugar, we aren’t past the grocery store yet. I’ll let you know when we are in Florida.
(Around 100th time) Mama, mama, mama, are we in Florida yet?
Me: (no longer amused) No, sugar, we are not in Florida. (voice beginning to rise in pitch and volume) As I told you five minutes ago, for the 100th time, I’ll let you know when we are in Florida. We have hours and hours and hours and hours to go before we get to Florida. Do not ask me again, unless you wish to see the emergence of Cujo mama -- Do You Understand? And Cujo mama does not like Florida. Cujo mama will turn the car around and go home!
Loving Husband: Dear, are you OK?
Loving Husband: Hey! No hitting each other with pillows. Do you understand?
Chaos: Ok, Daddy.
A few quiet moments and then the hitting continues.
Loving Husband: Hey! I said "No hitting each other with pillows." Do you understand?
Chaos: We weren't hitting each other, we were tossing them to each other.
Loving Husband: Hey! No throwing pillows around the back of the car! Do you understand?
Chaos: OK, Daddy.
A few quiet moments and then the throwing continues.
Loving Husband: Hey! I said "No throwing pillows." What do you not understand?
Chaos: We weren't throwing them, we were bonking ourselves with the pillows.
Loving Husband: (growing very red in face) Hey! No hitting with pillows, No throwing pillows, No bonking with pillows! No movement of the pillows at all. None. Do You Understand??
Chaos: (very small voice) OK Daddy.
Me: Are you OK, dear?
Loving Husband: I think we are raising a lawyer.
Chaos: Hey mama, we’re passing Vienna! Can we stop and get some sausages?
Entropy: Yea! We want some
Together: Teeny Weeenies!!
(amused and sad my children associate Vienna with sausages and not with a beautiful city in Europe….)
Chaos: Mama, mama, mama, she’s spitting on me!!
Me: All bodily fluids are to stay within the appropriate area. That means that all saliva is to stay within your mouth. Do you understand?
Entropy: You mean I can’t swallow any? Or spit at the Dentist's office?
Me: (sigh) We are not at the Dentist's office. Do not spit on your sister.
Entropy: You mean I can’t spit on her if she spits on me first?
Entropy: That’s not fair!
Me: (getting red in face) No Spitting! No Spitting! No Spitting! And I mean both of you! Do you understand me?
Loving Husband: Dear, are you OK?
Entropy: Daddy, daddy, daddy, she’s smearing boogers on me!
Daddy: No smearing boogers.
Entropy: Daddy, daddy, daddy, she’s smearing boogers on me!
Daddy: I said, “No smearing boogers.”
Chaos: I wasn’t smearing, I was wiping.
Daddy: No wiping boogers.
Entropy: Daddy, daddy, daddy, she’s wiping boogers on me!
Daddy: I said, “No wiping boogers.”
Chaos: I wasn’t wiping, I was flicking.
Daddy: (getting red in the face) No boogers! (voice beginning to rise) No wiping, smearing, flicking, blowing, spattering, daubing, spreading, or applying boogers to any part of another person, do you understand?
Chaos: (little voice) I understand, can I have a tissue?
Me: (getting a tissue out of my purse; it’s a little ragged.) Here.
Chaos: Ooo, gross! You want me to blow my nose on THAT?
Me: You mean instead of your sister’s hair? YES.
Me: (to loving husband who is getting rather incoherent) Dear, are you OK?
After tire blows and we have to stop and get new tire
Chaos: Hey, look! There’s a sign! There are spitting people here!
Me: What? (I see sign “No spitting where people are working.” Maybe this is a problem for others as well.)
Me: Look Dear! The last three billboards were for exotic dancing and adults bookstores and now we have one for micro-surgical vasectomy reversal. (giggles)
Loving Husband: Oh, that’s funny!
Chaos: Why is that funny? What’s the joke?
Me: Hey, girls! We’re in Florida! (silence) Girls?
Look back and both are sound asleep….