OK, here’s me keeping my triple pinky promise

Tonight was a special treat, indeed. My husband, new beard and all (there’s another post in there somewhere), and I had the great pleasure of going out to eat with friends we’ve loved for many years. They are such fun company that they went with us on our tenth anniversary trip some years ago! Now those are good friends (are there any other kind?). Anyway, it’s the first time this year that we’ve been out just the four of us, and we really had a terrific time. We don’t get a chance to go out to eat very often. Usually, we have to make ourselves go just so whatever gift certificate we have, doesn’t expire! Because of the nature of my husbands job, we get a few gift certificates over the year, and if it weren’t for those, we’d RARELY go out! Anyway, this night was a little different, there were no coupons/gift certificates to use, just our own pockets, but it was worth it for the company! Anyway, the restaurant we chose is actually one of our favorites. In two years, this is the 3rd time we’ve been there & tonight was the first time on our dime, none the less it qualifies a ‘favorite’.

Had we gotten there before our friends, we’d have requested a particular waiter whom we happen to know. Alas, they were there first and already had a table. We were just glad to have any seats, anywhere in the building. It was very crowded for a Thursday, we thought. No sooner had we said our hellos & sipped water before I turned/leaned to my right to say something to my husband, and found myself eyeball to eyeball with someone other than him. Now . . . I need reading glasses 1.75 strength, so anything that close without my glasses is murky at best. I just knew it wasn’t him. For all intent and purpose, this could have been a rhinoceros. Ah, but my quick instinct told me otherwise . . . it was our waitress. . . related to, but not truly a rhinoceros. After my initial jolt at finding myself nose to nose with this blurry stranger, I slowly backed my head so I could get her in focus. Apparently in the wild, this is their cue to lean forward. I think I could have backed all the way to the ladies room and she still would have been right there. To no avail, I leaned back and to the left in my chair with our thick skinned attendant in hot pursuit. Please know that I don’t mean to be derogatory about her appearance. She may have been a Grace Kelly look alike for all I know. I never got far enough away to tell.

When she said “What would you like for starters?”, I wanted to say ‘breathing room’, but decided that wouldn’t go over very well, so I stayed quiet. My husband, being a traditional southern gentleman of admirable manners, always places my order for me. He always has. He already knew what I wanted, so he spoke for me “The lady will have . . . ” You guessed it. She was on him like white on rice. I was just glad he diverted her. She might have sat in my lap. I watched helplessly as he spoke, him slowly leaning backward, taking the menu in hand as a blockade between him and the leaning tower. I wish I’d thought of that . . . the old ‘pretend you need to re-read the menu ploy’, to push her off. H-m-m-m. In the old days, Allen Funt would have come out from behind a fake wall and said “Smile!” You know the rest. But he wasn’t there, we were. We spent the rest of the night back-dodging her advances. Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down. I kept my fork clutched tightly in my hand at all times, just as a precaution.

On the way to the car, we talked about how good the food was, and how much fun we had with our friends. Then my husband said “. . . But the service! Man, that was awful. . . . bit of a close-talker, wasn’t she?” Yes, that she was.

And amidst all this chaos . . . God loves me . . .

I triple PINKY promise that I will post tonight. . . . I am a night owl by nature . . . though it may be late, I really will . . . I think.

If you PINKY (not triple, just regular) promise to read it, not necessarily tonight, but sometime, let me know with a comment here. It will help inspire me to keep my triple P promise . . .

I had every intention of posting today, but this morning started differently. For any number of reasons (lack of sleep, headache, body-aches from PAINTING the house on vacation time . . .) my sweet wonderful husband was grumpy. That’s about the worst I ever get from him . . . grumpy. Go ahead girls, hate me. . . .  Anyway, as I said I was going to post, but decided to use my time more prudently . . .

 I went to the farm and RUSHED through my regular work so that I could be home before carpool. And now, long story short, I just finished ironing his shirts for the rest of the week! Go me! OK, no snide comments girls, I know, that you know, I don’t iron unless my life is at stake. My husband has always, ALWAYS ironed his own shirts. . . . and never once complained about it. OK, hate me even more. . . .

So, I will just have to post later. . . I’ll let you know if he notices!

Amidst all this chaos,  . . . God loves me . . .

“There’s something wrong with my horse. She’s been rolling in the stall, and now I can’t get her up. . . . What should I do?”

With those words, my Saturday evening changed from the ultimate college football viewing with friends, great food and roaring fireplace, to a long cold night helping a vet ‘flush’ a horse at both ends. . . . Colic. The one word that shudders the bones of the most experienced horse owners and novices alike. Fortunately, this horse is owned by a very intuitive though inexperienced horsewoman. She knew enough to call for help early. All the difference in a case of dreaded colic.

A vet visit like this can make you realize just how important our furry/feathered/hairy/scaled friends can be to us. That makes me think of Karla’s ‘Patches’, and ‘Lilah’, and Karen’s ‘Tattoo’. We can get very attached to our animals, even when we don’t intend to!

 While I missed being with friends and family watching ‘THE game’, it pales in significance when compared to seeing how modern veterinary medicine can literally snatch an animal otherwise doomed, from the jaws of death.

I’m so glad God gave us animals, and veterinary science! They both touched my heart this weekend. Much more deeply than any gridiron showdown.

And amidst all this chaos . . . God loves me . . .

Fabulous day with family! Stuffed & over stuffed. And not just the turkey. I did quite a bit of gobbling, myself.

So, we’re helping clean up, and my sweet Mama is pulling plastic cups out of the trash can (yes, Mom I know. . . it’s a waste basket). It’s been this way as long as I can remember. My dear mother washing disposable cups in case we needed them again. Can anyone help me understand why she buys ‘throw away’ cups and washes them?

Oh well, washed/reused or not, she’s my Mom & I love her!

And amidst all this turkey day chaos . . . God loves me . . .

Yes, I do have something in common with Julia Childs, thank you very much! All you nay-sayers should be ashamed . . . Julia Childs has been dead for some time now. That means she doesn’t cook. Neither do I. HA! So there! . . .

Actually, I have been in the kitchen all evening ‘fixing’ my dishes for tomorrow. I can’t really call it cooking though. I did boil some eggs. My Mom assigned salad to me (She usually gives me bread, ice or drinks. It’s her kind way of not asking too much, too soon) this year. I thought I’d surprise everyone this year by going all out with my ‘dish’. We will have about 30 total eating, and I have decided to make 2 salads. Spinach with almonds, eggs, poppyseed dressing, mushrooms, bacon & mandarin oranges. Also a classic tossed salad with lettuce, green, red & yellow bell peppers, walnuts, cucumber, tomatoes, carrots, grated cheese, pine nuts, avocado, sunflower seeds, golden raisins, broccoli ‘buds’ with blue cheese dressing.

So, I’ve been in the KITCHEN SLAVING , CLEANING CUTTING, MEASURING AND CHOPPING ALL NIGHT. . . . not that I’m bitter about it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

And amidst all this tasty chaos . . . God loves me . . .

Oh for Pete’s sake! Paul !?!?!? What were you thinking? Please don’t burst my Beatle bubble and tell me that you at one time had anything in common with Heather ‘Mental‘ Mills. I had already come to the conclusion that she was a swindler (gold digger is too tame), and how dare she sully the name McCartney, but now she is attacking our ‘Gracie’, Dot, Jadie and baby ‘Brownie’!!! Has she no shame??? Here are her latest quotes regarding livestock, specifically cattle:

“They are at the heart of almost all the world’s environmental catastrophes. Viva! has been saying this for years and now the UN has confirmed it with a report so detailed that it can’t be ignored – except by government.”

 “Fortunately, as individuals we don’t have to wait for anyone. You can end your involvement in this vandalism overnight and help to secure our children’s future. All you need do is change your diet – it’s that simple. Change your diet – change the world!”

She needs to change her therapist. Because whomever she’s using apparently isn’t getting anywhere.

She later goes on to offer these scrumptious dairy product surrogates . . . m-m-m, m-m-m good:

“There are 25 alternative types of milk. Why do we not try drinking rats’ milk, cats’ milk or dogs’ milk?”

Now. . . I wonder which of those she pours over Fruit Loops for little Beatrice (daughter with Sir Paul) on those mornings she’s in a rush to create another scandalous news story?

While I am merely caretaker to the evildoer moo cows, amidst the chaos . . . God loves me . . .  

One of the best phrases ever : “Mom, will you lay down with me for a few minutes after we pray?”

Mark it down, the heart never resists melting at a question like that. There are so many varieties of ‘heart-melters’, and 99.9 % of them begin with either Mom, Mama or Mommy.

The President could be on the phone waiting to speak with me, and I’d just have to let him call back later. First things, first.

How will I ever manage when they stop asking?

Just wondering . . .

Is it a sofa, or a couch?

Before I even start this tirade, please let me preface it with this thought: I have always been, and as far as I can tell, will always be attracted to men. Now, I am married, so it boils down to ‘man’, but the truth is, I really love men. I always have. They’re so plain easy to read! So vulnerable! When I was younger and single, other women called me a tease and a flirt, so please know that my following commentary is not a reflection on my sexual orientation. Let me also state that this is a confession of sorts, a revealing of a weakness I think. But I want to be like my friend Karla who is so brave at confronting skeletons, and Karen like when she admitted her claustrophobic fears. I want God to be able to change this about me, if it’s His pleasure. So I guess that means talking about it to you.

After pondering recent friendship ‘bumps’, surfing around the Internet, and even reading the ‘All Talk’ blog posts by my associate’s, I realize how vast God’s scope of ‘woman’ really is. Because I am a woman, and because I am very different. I mean really different. As a matter of fact, I have very few things in common with a lot of women that I know. And I like the me that God is creating. I don’t expect you to like that me, but I do. The world would say that I am comfortable in my own skin. All 49 years of it, including the extra yards of excess. I won’t hide my age because it doesn’t bother me if you think I am old or young. I love silence, the outdoors, hunting, fly-fishing, laughing with my husband, kids , friends & family. I hate to shop, spend money, don’t like cooking, I’d rather be listening than talking (OK, most of the time) unless it’s a debate, and it’s hard to hurt my feelings. I don’t care what neighborhood I live in, if we rent or own, or how nice of a car I drive, as long as the kids are safe. Decorating or choosing paint colors, paper patterns, or sofa’s or recipes is like Greek to me. I don’t speak it, nor do I understand it. I am interested though, when others struggle with such things, it just never enters my mind. As far as fashion, my rule of thumb is: If it fastens, is comfortable and doesn’t itch, I’ll wear it. Even if you are deliberately mean to me, I’ll forget it pretty soon. I think I really do have more in common with guys! Isn’t that weird?! I have lots of male friends, but few (really close) female friends (I think) because for the most part, women tend to be more detail oriented, emotionally dependant, talkative, sensitive, dramatic, etc. High maintenance, if you will. I just am not. I don’t know why, I just am not. But I am all woman. If we are friends, and I don’t hear from you (other than the grapevine) for a week, or month, I don’t worry about it, I’m just happy when I do hear from or run into you again. And I assume you feel the same about me. If it’s my birthday, or the anniversary of some event, or milestone, I am not waiting to hear from you. Please don’t expect it in return from me. Or if it IS expected of me, please let me know beforehand, and help me remember. I need help doing the un-natural things that are very important to others. My way of thinking is not better or worse than yours, it’s just different, and I need help at times.

I do want to remain open to God’s hand working in my life through relationships with my sister’s in Christ. We need each other on different levels. And I certainly don’t want to hinder His purpose by my natural independence.

If you haven’t already guessed, this post has spring-boarded from recent events in my personal life. I’m just not about to list details or name names, although, that’s not out of the question in the future! Maybe a podcast?

To quote my hero Popeye, I yam what I yam, and that’s all that I yam.

Amidst this chaos, yes it’s true . . . God loves me . . .