Thursday, May 31, 2012
Happy Fun Girl: Someone Really Shook My Peaches...For Real!
Happy Fun Girl: Someone Really Shook My Peaches...For Real!: I am blown away! And I don't mean because of the high winds, the tornado warning, weather brought in last night. I mean, seriously blown a...
Someone Really Shook My Peaches...For Real!
I am blown away!
And I don't mean because of the high winds, the tornado warning, weather brought in last night.
I mean, seriously blown away!
Someone really must have wanted to shake my peaches.
Well, not shake them so much, just flat out, stole them. Limbs and all!
Here is my doomsday of discovery, and the way it all went down....
Woke up extremely late and got a bowl of Fruit Loops.
It's national retro cereal week, I love holidays and I've already eaten most of the Peanut Butter Captain Crunch.
Studied briefly Ephesians 4 and forwarded the message to someone who will not appreciate my thoughtfulness.
It's about maturity and oneness.
I usually eat Grape Nuts. And only one bowl.
Listened to One Love, by U2 on Youtube.
But, then I checked Amazon.com and saw that my book, "Pig's Big Adventure", had dropped to like 279,151.
I think I ate another bowl. I don't remember. I cried like a baby.
Real mature.
It's the first week. I won't panic.
FROG!
(I learned that from Tamara Out Loud) a fellow blogger and Jesus lover who occasionally tosses out a word that you're not allowed to say if you want a "G" rating.
I knew at the time, I should have screen shot it when it went to 46,412 on Saturday.
Boo-hoo!
I didn't because of my incredible faith, that, some days is even as big as a watermelon seed!
And I was sure it would go higher than that....
Next, I find that all 21 of my massive bean poles are lying on the ground in a home grown garden huddle.
There are so many vines and so many beans that when the storms hit last night, they came crashing to the ground. OH SNAP!
They broke my 7 adorably crafted bamboo tee pees.
Alright, I'll just say it again.
No.
Contrary to rumors around town, I never actually lived in a tee pee!!
Yes, I did stay in one for the weekend.
Who wouldn't? They're tee pees! How cool is that?
Did we not all grow up playing cowboys and Indians?
Skipping over the lame peace pipe jokes, that too, is a no.
Yes, I slept in it, with my children, and many other musician families and their children.
No, we were not starting a cult like over in Waco.
No, we were not forming a colony for nudists.
No, we were not burying ammunition and firearms for Y2K.
Yes, there was a large purchase of dry and canned goods made.
And maybe a generator.
Now that we've cleared that up...let me get back to my original rant.
Snap beans.
Actually, the bean poles are not what has caused me to snap today.
It's the peaches!
I can't type fast enough to let out my frustration.
Simply, I must use the already, seriously overused in my vocabulary, but one word which conveys how I'm feeling the best.......
REALLY? REALLY?
Someone apparently decided it would be okay to go into my back yard and CUT OFF limbs from my peach tree that were loaded with fruit!
Yes, that's what I said.
They went into my yard and cut off whole limbs!
Whole LIMBS!
True, I have been busy and some were falling but...
I wasn't even done canning!
Last week or the week before, I wrote about my peach tree needing pruned.
But seriously?
Someone cut them clean away...all the way back to the trunk!
They did not, however, bother to take the DEAD limbs. Or spray the fresh cuts.
They left me with exactly 22 small peaches. Not even enough for a 6 pack of peach rosemary jam.
I don't even like beer and I'm contemplating a 6 pack at this point.
At first, I would suspect my two oldest daughters, but that would require actual work and they were probably too busy pilfering through the closets stealing shirts, shoes and quarters from my change jar.
I'm sorry, did that sound angry?
I meant "borrowing" without permission, probably never to be returned.
"It's not lost, it's in College Station. So and so has it...."
Grrr...
What country is it where they actually cut off your limbs for stealing?
Consider it joy, when you go through trials....blah, blah, blah....
Sorry Lord, I love ya...but please let me finish venting...
Sure, I could do my Beverly Hillbilly best, "I've got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart...."
But I'm not feeling it right this second.
The only way I am going to feel good about this is if someone who really needed to EAT got them.
But then, why not just take the peaches?
Who would saw off whole limbs of my tree?
In the blog about peaches, I said, "you can have a few...but it's gonna cost you..a limb or two."
It was an analogy for Pete's sake...I didn't say, "It's gonna cost me....or my tree a limb or two!!!
WTFrog!!!
I used to use FROG as an acronym for, Fully Rely On God.
Yeah. Tell that to the frog that's lying dead in the bottom of my pool, dried up and floating on top of rainwater turned pond scum, because my pool has been empty for a month waiting on an acid wash.
I can't complain, because I'm lame and Ken at Superior Pools is doing it to be kind and generous to a crazy girl.
I used to be on the other end of those kind of deals.
In fact, I much prefer to be on the other end of those deals.
Perhaps someone didn't approve of my obvious lack of pruning skills, and decided to just show me how it's done.
"Ya just cut if off, jerk off! Just...like...that!" I can almost hear them.
Alrighty then. Thank you for allowing me that rant.
I'm done now.
Well sort of...I was in the middle of an online training and my computer crashed on me...AGAIN!
I feel like Alexander in the mixed up horrible, no good, very bad day book.
But, I have the house to myself, one remaining bowl of Fruit Loops and a great instructional read.
I just received Michael Hyatt's new book, "Platform: Get Noticed in a Noisy World," in the mail today.
Thank God!
A man with a plan.
His book made it to number 4 the first week on Amazon!!
I better be taking notes.
And can I please borrow someone's noisemaker?
I feel a joyful noise coming on. ;)
And I don't mean because of the high winds, the tornado warning, weather brought in last night.
I mean, seriously blown away!
Someone really must have wanted to shake my peaches.
Well, not shake them so much, just flat out, stole them. Limbs and all!
Here is my doomsday of discovery, and the way it all went down....
Woke up extremely late and got a bowl of Fruit Loops.
It's national retro cereal week, I love holidays and I've already eaten most of the Peanut Butter Captain Crunch.
Studied briefly Ephesians 4 and forwarded the message to someone who will not appreciate my thoughtfulness.
It's about maturity and oneness.
I usually eat Grape Nuts. And only one bowl.
Listened to One Love, by U2 on Youtube.
But, then I checked Amazon.com and saw that my book, "Pig's Big Adventure", had dropped to like 279,151.
I think I ate another bowl. I don't remember. I cried like a baby.
Real mature.
It's the first week. I won't panic.
FROG!
(I learned that from Tamara Out Loud) a fellow blogger and Jesus lover who occasionally tosses out a word that you're not allowed to say if you want a "G" rating.
I knew at the time, I should have screen shot it when it went to 46,412 on Saturday.
Boo-hoo!
I didn't because of my incredible faith, that, some days is even as big as a watermelon seed!
And I was sure it would go higher than that....
Next, I find that all 21 of my massive bean poles are lying on the ground in a home grown garden huddle.
There are so many vines and so many beans that when the storms hit last night, they came crashing to the ground. OH SNAP!
They broke my 7 adorably crafted bamboo tee pees.
Alright, I'll just say it again.
No.
Contrary to rumors around town, I never actually lived in a tee pee!!
Yes, I did stay in one for the weekend.
Who wouldn't? They're tee pees! How cool is that?
Did we not all grow up playing cowboys and Indians?
Skipping over the lame peace pipe jokes, that too, is a no.
Yes, I slept in it, with my children, and many other musician families and their children.
No, we were not starting a cult like over in Waco.
No, we were not forming a colony for nudists.
No, we were not burying ammunition and firearms for Y2K.
Yes, there was a large purchase of dry and canned goods made.
And maybe a generator.
Now that we've cleared that up...let me get back to my original rant.
Snap beans.
Actually, the bean poles are not what has caused me to snap today.
It's the peaches!
I can't type fast enough to let out my frustration.
Simply, I must use the already, seriously overused in my vocabulary, but one word which conveys how I'm feeling the best.......
REALLY? REALLY?
Someone apparently decided it would be okay to go into my back yard and CUT OFF limbs from my peach tree that were loaded with fruit!
Yes, that's what I said.
They went into my yard and cut off whole limbs!
Whole LIMBS!
True, I have been busy and some were falling but...
I wasn't even done canning!
Last week or the week before, I wrote about my peach tree needing pruned.
But seriously?
Someone cut them clean away...all the way back to the trunk!
They did not, however, bother to take the DEAD limbs. Or spray the fresh cuts.
They left me with exactly 22 small peaches. Not even enough for a 6 pack of peach rosemary jam.
I don't even like beer and I'm contemplating a 6 pack at this point.
At first, I would suspect my two oldest daughters, but that would require actual work and they were probably too busy pilfering through the closets stealing shirts, shoes and quarters from my change jar.
I'm sorry, did that sound angry?
I meant "borrowing" without permission, probably never to be returned.
"It's not lost, it's in College Station. So and so has it...."
Grrr...
What country is it where they actually cut off your limbs for stealing?
Consider it joy, when you go through trials....blah, blah, blah....
Sorry Lord, I love ya...but please let me finish venting...
Sure, I could do my Beverly Hillbilly best, "I've got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart...."
But I'm not feeling it right this second.
The only way I am going to feel good about this is if someone who really needed to EAT got them.
But then, why not just take the peaches?
Who would saw off whole limbs of my tree?
In the blog about peaches, I said, "you can have a few...but it's gonna cost you..a limb or two."
It was an analogy for Pete's sake...I didn't say, "It's gonna cost me....or my tree a limb or two!!!
WTFrog!!!
I used to use FROG as an acronym for, Fully Rely On God.
Yeah. Tell that to the frog that's lying dead in the bottom of my pool, dried up and floating on top of rainwater turned pond scum, because my pool has been empty for a month waiting on an acid wash.
I can't complain, because I'm lame and Ken at Superior Pools is doing it to be kind and generous to a crazy girl.
I used to be on the other end of those kind of deals.
In fact, I much prefer to be on the other end of those deals.
Perhaps someone didn't approve of my obvious lack of pruning skills, and decided to just show me how it's done.
"Ya just cut if off, jerk off! Just...like...that!" I can almost hear them.
Alrighty then. Thank you for allowing me that rant.
I'm done now.
Well sort of...I was in the middle of an online training and my computer crashed on me...AGAIN!
I feel like Alexander in the mixed up horrible, no good, very bad day book.
But, I have the house to myself, one remaining bowl of Fruit Loops and a great instructional read.
I just received Michael Hyatt's new book, "Platform: Get Noticed in a Noisy World," in the mail today.
Thank God!
A man with a plan.
His book made it to number 4 the first week on Amazon!!
I better be taking notes.
And can I please borrow someone's noisemaker?
I feel a joyful noise coming on. ;)
Monday, May 28, 2012
Happy Fun Girl: The Ugly Truth
Happy Fun Girl: The Ugly Truth: I'm on a new writing deadline right now. It's two weeks away and I can't get anything done except contemplate going on a stinking killing sp...
The Ugly Truth
I'm on a new writing deadline right now. It's two weeks away and I can't get anything done except contemplate going on a stinking killing spree because NOTHING on my computer is working right and it's taking me about 10 seconds to type every character.
Patience is NOT the prettiest fruit in my spiritual fruit bowl.
Either is self-control. That can indeed be a very deadly combination.
Have you ever had that feeling where you want to pick up your PC and throw it through the window?
That's pretty much where I am right now.
And I know it's not pretty.
An unnamed family member threw a mailbox through someone's front window once, with very good reason, I might add...But, this is about my ugly truth and not theirs. :)
I'm working on discretion, as well as patience and self-control.
I have a tendency to want to tell it all....and yes, even throw objects, or people, through the window.
I've been advised repeatedly to keep my mouth shut, "There are some things you just take to your grave."
But I can't. It's just not how I roll.
Several years ago, I was on the 700 Club sharing my tawdry testimony to, I don't even know how many people, much to my family's shame and horror, I'm aware.
I'm sorry for them for having to be embarrassed by my poor decisions and jacked-up-edness, but I can't....
not....tell the stories.
There is no condemnation in Christ. And most of them have amazing endings. Seriously!
I'm forgiven.
I truly believe with all of my heart that I have been through things that may benefit other people in their lives.
847 people called in and committed to Christ after hearing that testimony. Can you imagine?
847 people! I am still floored by that!
Some even went so far as to find me and thank me via email and telephone for my, of all things....bravery.
On this Memorial Day, I am awed by how brave men and women can be.
But, I do understand brokenness.
Most recently, I missed the Women of Faith writing contest deadline and so, I'm now entering another, through Westbow Press for the Munce Group. The final deadline is June 15. And I'm freaking out.
I had intended to have my entry completed by the time Pig's Big Adventure came out, but...that was last Friday. And the garden needs weeded & picked, the peaches are still dropping and rotting & the house is a mess....
The real problem is, I can't get out of my head the editorial standards.
Some days, I barely have standards.
Here is a brief blurb taken from Philipians, on what they require:
"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things."
Here is the ugly truth.
I have many things to write about and stories to tell that are not so pure, not so lovely and are certainly not of good report.
And I'm not brave, I'm afraid.
Not so much of what people will say, but that the story is just too gory. Too over-the-top.
I'm afraid it will hinder my reputation, not help it. (and now I'm laughing at how ridiculous that will read to anyone who knows me at all) :P
Lately, I have been deep in the process of reinventing myself as a writer and the woman I want to be. I've been reading and listening A LOT to some really amazing people like Andy Andrews, Michael Hyatt and just today, (in between the computer crashes) Jeff Goins.
Thank God for amazing leaders!
I've been telling my friend Kim during our workouts, that I am ready. "I just need someone to tell me what to do, how to do it, and I'll do it. I need a specific plan on How To Get from Point A to Point B."
Point B being the undisclosed vision that I believe God has given me for my life.
It's undisclosed because it's laughable, and although I consider myself a funny girl, I am not prepared at this moment, while suffering with some seriously nasty PMS, to face more rejection. I'm a big enough cry baby as it is.
Perhaps later, when I'm more prayed up?
But, I read Jeff's blog called, "Why You Should Tell the Ugly Parts of Your Story."
And it encouraged me incredibly!
I want to be an authentic person.
I want to be honest.
This path has not always been pretty. And it has mostly been my own fault.
But...I am absolutely blown away by the work that God has done in me, and the massive amount of perseverance that he has given me to just keep getting up...day after day...and press on.
Just for the record, I would not actually go on a killing spree.
In general, I am the kind of person who frees bugs to the great outdoors when found inside.
Except flies. I hate flies and will unleash on them without reservation. Them, and a certain daughter who infuriates me.
Also, I'm trying to promote a picture book, and killing sprees are probably frowned upon when it comes to marketing for children.
The ugly truth is, I've decided to just write it and pray that the ashes turn into beauty.
'Cause I feel pretty, oh so pretty...I feel pretty and witty and...
And to God be the glory, of my very ugly story.
Patience is NOT the prettiest fruit in my spiritual fruit bowl.
Either is self-control. That can indeed be a very deadly combination.
Have you ever had that feeling where you want to pick up your PC and throw it through the window?
That's pretty much where I am right now.
And I know it's not pretty.
An unnamed family member threw a mailbox through someone's front window once, with very good reason, I might add...But, this is about my ugly truth and not theirs. :)
I'm working on discretion, as well as patience and self-control.
I have a tendency to want to tell it all....and yes, even throw objects, or people, through the window.
I've been advised repeatedly to keep my mouth shut, "There are some things you just take to your grave."
But I can't. It's just not how I roll.
Several years ago, I was on the 700 Club sharing my tawdry testimony to, I don't even know how many people, much to my family's shame and horror, I'm aware.
I'm sorry for them for having to be embarrassed by my poor decisions and jacked-up-edness, but I can't....
not....tell the stories.
There is no condemnation in Christ. And most of them have amazing endings. Seriously!
I'm forgiven.
I truly believe with all of my heart that I have been through things that may benefit other people in their lives.
847 people called in and committed to Christ after hearing that testimony. Can you imagine?
847 people! I am still floored by that!
Some even went so far as to find me and thank me via email and telephone for my, of all things....bravery.
On this Memorial Day, I am awed by how brave men and women can be.
But, I do understand brokenness.
Most recently, I missed the Women of Faith writing contest deadline and so, I'm now entering another, through Westbow Press for the Munce Group. The final deadline is June 15. And I'm freaking out.
I had intended to have my entry completed by the time Pig's Big Adventure came out, but...that was last Friday. And the garden needs weeded & picked, the peaches are still dropping and rotting & the house is a mess....
The real problem is, I can't get out of my head the editorial standards.
Some days, I barely have standards.
Here is a brief blurb taken from Philipians, on what they require:
"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things."
Here is the ugly truth.
I have many things to write about and stories to tell that are not so pure, not so lovely and are certainly not of good report.
And I'm not brave, I'm afraid.
Not so much of what people will say, but that the story is just too gory. Too over-the-top.
I'm afraid it will hinder my reputation, not help it. (and now I'm laughing at how ridiculous that will read to anyone who knows me at all) :P
Lately, I have been deep in the process of reinventing myself as a writer and the woman I want to be. I've been reading and listening A LOT to some really amazing people like Andy Andrews, Michael Hyatt and just today, (in between the computer crashes) Jeff Goins.
Thank God for amazing leaders!
I've been telling my friend Kim during our workouts, that I am ready. "I just need someone to tell me what to do, how to do it, and I'll do it. I need a specific plan on How To Get from Point A to Point B."
Point B being the undisclosed vision that I believe God has given me for my life.
It's undisclosed because it's laughable, and although I consider myself a funny girl, I am not prepared at this moment, while suffering with some seriously nasty PMS, to face more rejection. I'm a big enough cry baby as it is.
Perhaps later, when I'm more prayed up?
But, I read Jeff's blog called, "Why You Should Tell the Ugly Parts of Your Story."
And it encouraged me incredibly!
I want to be an authentic person.
I want to be honest.
This path has not always been pretty. And it has mostly been my own fault.
But...I am absolutely blown away by the work that God has done in me, and the massive amount of perseverance that he has given me to just keep getting up...day after day...and press on.
Just for the record, I would not actually go on a killing spree.
In general, I am the kind of person who frees bugs to the great outdoors when found inside.
Except flies. I hate flies and will unleash on them without reservation. Them, and a certain daughter who infuriates me.
Also, I'm trying to promote a picture book, and killing sprees are probably frowned upon when it comes to marketing for children.
The ugly truth is, I've decided to just write it and pray that the ashes turn into beauty.
'Cause I feel pretty, oh so pretty...I feel pretty and witty and...
And to God be the glory, of my very ugly story.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Happy Fun Girl: Courageous or Cowardly?
Happy Fun Girl: Courageous or Cowardly?: "I don't feel like I started well. I want to finish well." This statement reflects my sentiments as I think about things like courage on t...
Courageous or Cowardly?
"I don't feel like I started well. I want to finish well."
This statement reflects my sentiments as I think about things like courage on this Memorial weekend and the men and women who have bravely served this country to defend our liberties and freedom.
The line comes from the powerful movie, "Courageous."
I think about wars, present and past and the real battles that we fight every day in our country, in our families, and in our minds.
I think about the opposing forces and often look down at my feet to see which side I'm standing on, moment by moment and I realize how cowardly I can be.
Just like the cowardly lion, "You're right, I am a coward! I haven't any courage at all. I even scare myself!"
Boo!
He reveals again his personal insecurities in song, "I'm sure I could show my prowess, Be a lion, not a mouse, If I only had the nerve."
Elisabeth Elliot's husband was killed along with 4 other missionaries in Ecuador. She said that her life was controlled by fear. Every time she would start out to minister, she was controlled by fear. Finally one day a friend asked her, "Why don't you do it afraid?"
I heard this story listening to Joyce Meyer and it resonated a lot with me because I have a lot of fears I am dealing with right now.
Fear of failure.
Fear of success.
Fear of finances.
Fear of the unknown.
I've rolled it all around in my head, thinking about fear and thinking about courage.
And I determined that I was going to move forward, and do it afraid.
"Fear Not!" God said, "For I am with you."
I think about it when I'm driving in my car, blaring K-LOVE, listening to Casting Crowns sing,
There are a lot of folks that gave that movie terrible reviews.
My guess is that's probably because it hit a little too close to home.
We looked at the widescreen and saw how compromising and cowardly we can be.
Great. Now I'm hearing Kenny Rogers singing, "Everyone considered him, the coward of the county..."
For me, I walked out of that movie wanting to do better for myself and my family.
And yes, I honestly wondered, "Where are you men of courage?"
I wondered if I could ever find a man of courage like that, doubted it, and determined to be a little more courageous myself.
And I'm trying. Truly.
I sincerely do want to live without the Fear Factor!
Back in bible times, it says in John, that no one had the courage to speak favorably about Jesus in public, because they were afraid of getting in trouble....
Interesting. I'm kind of a trouble maker. :) Trouble makers unite!! United we stand, divided we fall.
We are told in Philippians to stand together with one spirit and one purpose, fighting together for the faith... and not be intimidated by our enemies.
On the yellow brick road of life, I want to escape victoriously from the wicked witch of the west and the evil flying monkeys!!
Were those things scary or what???
I want to stroll through a field of poison poppies and knock the big brass knocker on the door with boldness.
I don't want to be like the cowardly lion who said, "I'd better wait for you outside."
I really do want to see the great and powerful "Oz."
Because I believe it's true that there is "no place like home."
But this not my home.
And I wouldn't be caught dead in those blinged out ruby slippers!
Lord make us courageous!
This statement reflects my sentiments as I think about things like courage on this Memorial weekend and the men and women who have bravely served this country to defend our liberties and freedom.
The line comes from the powerful movie, "Courageous."
I think about wars, present and past and the real battles that we fight every day in our country, in our families, and in our minds.
I think about the opposing forces and often look down at my feet to see which side I'm standing on, moment by moment and I realize how cowardly I can be.
Just like the cowardly lion, "You're right, I am a coward! I haven't any courage at all. I even scare myself!"
Boo!
He reveals again his personal insecurities in song, "I'm sure I could show my prowess, Be a lion, not a mouse, If I only had the nerve."
Elisabeth Elliot's husband was killed along with 4 other missionaries in Ecuador. She said that her life was controlled by fear. Every time she would start out to minister, she was controlled by fear. Finally one day a friend asked her, "Why don't you do it afraid?"
I heard this story listening to Joyce Meyer and it resonated a lot with me because I have a lot of fears I am dealing with right now.
Fear of failure.
Fear of success.
Fear of finances.
Fear of the unknown.
I've rolled it all around in my head, thinking about fear and thinking about courage.
And I determined that I was going to move forward, and do it afraid.
"Fear Not!" God said, "For I am with you."
I think about it when I'm driving in my car, blaring K-LOVE, listening to Casting Crowns sing,
We were warriors on the front lines, standing unafraid
But now we're watchers on the sidelines, while our families slip away...
Where are you men of courage, you were made for so much more..
Let the pounding of our hearts cry, we will serve the Lord.
My guess is that's probably because it hit a little too close to home.
We looked at the widescreen and saw how compromising and cowardly we can be.
Great. Now I'm hearing Kenny Rogers singing, "Everyone considered him, the coward of the county..."
For me, I walked out of that movie wanting to do better for myself and my family.
And yes, I honestly wondered, "Where are you men of courage?"
I wondered if I could ever find a man of courage like that, doubted it, and determined to be a little more courageous myself.
And I'm trying. Truly.
I sincerely do want to live without the Fear Factor!
Back in bible times, it says in John, that no one had the courage to speak favorably about Jesus in public, because they were afraid of getting in trouble....
Interesting. I'm kind of a trouble maker. :) Trouble makers unite!! United we stand, divided we fall.
We are told in Philippians to stand together with one spirit and one purpose, fighting together for the faith... and not be intimidated by our enemies.
On the yellow brick road of life, I want to escape victoriously from the wicked witch of the west and the evil flying monkeys!!
Were those things scary or what???
I want to stroll through a field of poison poppies and knock the big brass knocker on the door with boldness.
I don't want to be like the cowardly lion who said, "I'd better wait for you outside."
I really do want to see the great and powerful "Oz."
Because I believe it's true that there is "no place like home."
But this not my home.
And I wouldn't be caught dead in those blinged out ruby slippers!
Lord make us courageous!
Friday, May 18, 2012
Happy Fun Girl: I Really Love Your Peaches!
Happy Fun Girl: I Really Love Your Peaches!: ".....wanna shake your tree." - Steve Miller Band. "You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden." - God. "You may especially...
I Really Love Your Peaches!
".....wanna shake your tree." - Steve Miller Band.
"You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden." - God.
"You may especially eat from the two, 30 year old, peach trees in my backyard." - Me.
Notice that I didn't say freely?
It's gonna cost you.
A limb or two.
At least.
I strongly dislike pruning. I don't like to do it, and I don't like having it done.
I don't like doing it to my trees, I don't like having it done to me.
(I do not like green eggs and ham!) Sorry.
It started to get a little sing songy there for a minute.
My peach trees are some of the oldest in town that I am aware of.
They are the first to bloom faithfully every February, and the pink and red blossoms are spectacular!
This morning I was prompted by Joel Olsteen's daily devotional to grow where I'm planted.
Some days I feel like I am developing root rot, or just plain bore disease and have nothing left in me to Bloom!
I'd much rather just enjoy the blossoming and skip over the pruning part of the whole growing process.
But, I know that it's a necessity if I want to have big, tasty, juicy fruit.
Perhaps I can just buy a five stick yellow pack of gum for a quarter, and call it a day?
I have tons, and tons of peaches on my trees right now and I can't get to them quick enough.
Some are large and some are small...
Some they stay and some they fall...
(Oh gosh, I'm doing it again.)
Truly, they fall about 12 feet down and smash on the ground!
The butterflies are enjoying the nectar far more than I am enjoying the stench that reminds me of wiping down the bar after a bunch of drunk college girls, who kept spilling Fuzzy Navels all over the place, while flirting with the bartender.
Okay, I've spilled a few too, but now it's just stinking, rotten fruit laying on the ground.
Now, I have to maneuver around the fruited land mines while trying to get to the good stuff without stepping into sticky, squishy, peach pulp that gets stuck between my toes!
I think they call that toe jam?
I wouldn't be having as much of a problem with all of this if I had pruned better earlier.
Yeah, I plucked a few here and there.
'Cause I'm a picker, I'm a grinner...
There were cluster upon clusters of peaches and I know they are supposed to be about a hands width apart to form large, luscious fruit. They don't like overcrowding apparently anymore than I do.
But I just couldn't bare to do it. I am not the Master Gardener! Who am I to say which one to pluck?
I kept thinking that maybe they would all grow into mature fruit miraculously, some other way.
Maybe this would be the year that the branches would be strong enough to hold the heavily weighted limbs?
They needed to be cut away before the season began, and I knew it, I just didn't do it.
Jesus, in John 15, makes a distinction about two different types of pruning.
There is either a cutting back or a cutting off.
"He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn't produce fruit, and he prunes back the branches that do bear fruit so that they will produce even more."
Fruitful branches are cut back to promote growth. God sometimes disciplines us to strengthen our character and faith. But branches that don't bear fruit are cut off at the trunk not only because they are worthless but also because they can often infect the rest of the tree. (Tyndale's NLT New Living bible footnotes)
Interestingly, it goes onto explain that "fruit" is not limited to soul winning, but sometimes refers also to joy and love.
"I'm a lover..."
I need to stay attached to the life giving source, which is God in order to produce good fruit.
Juicy Fruit!
And sometimes, I have to allow the painful cutting back of certain things for new growth to continue.
"and I'm a sinner..."
As much as I wish I could just chop dead wood and limbs with one fell swoop of a trusty ax, most times I have to use a dull, blue hand saw that has very rusted blades. It's a painfully slow process.
Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth....it seems to take forever to cut back.
"You didn't choose me, I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name."
Mmmh? Lasting fruit?
As in....a long shelf life?
Cool! 'Cause I canned too!
Whatever I ask for?
Here goes then, "In Jesus' name, get me out of this Jam!"
"And lovey, dovey, lovey dovey, lovey dovey all the time...."
You just went made the "wrah wrah" noise didn't you?
"You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden." - God.
"You may especially eat from the two, 30 year old, peach trees in my backyard." - Me.
Notice that I didn't say freely?
It's gonna cost you.
A limb or two.
At least.
I strongly dislike pruning. I don't like to do it, and I don't like having it done.
I don't like doing it to my trees, I don't like having it done to me.
(I do not like green eggs and ham!) Sorry.
It started to get a little sing songy there for a minute.
My peach trees are some of the oldest in town that I am aware of.
They are the first to bloom faithfully every February, and the pink and red blossoms are spectacular!
This morning I was prompted by Joel Olsteen's daily devotional to grow where I'm planted.
Some days I feel like I am developing root rot, or just plain bore disease and have nothing left in me to Bloom!
I'd much rather just enjoy the blossoming and skip over the pruning part of the whole growing process.
But, I know that it's a necessity if I want to have big, tasty, juicy fruit.
Perhaps I can just buy a five stick yellow pack of gum for a quarter, and call it a day?
I have tons, and tons of peaches on my trees right now and I can't get to them quick enough.
Some are large and some are small...
Some they stay and some they fall...
(Oh gosh, I'm doing it again.)
Truly, they fall about 12 feet down and smash on the ground!
The butterflies are enjoying the nectar far more than I am enjoying the stench that reminds me of wiping down the bar after a bunch of drunk college girls, who kept spilling Fuzzy Navels all over the place, while flirting with the bartender.
Okay, I've spilled a few too, but now it's just stinking, rotten fruit laying on the ground.
Now, I have to maneuver around the fruited land mines while trying to get to the good stuff without stepping into sticky, squishy, peach pulp that gets stuck between my toes!
I think they call that toe jam?
I wouldn't be having as much of a problem with all of this if I had pruned better earlier.
Yeah, I plucked a few here and there.
'Cause I'm a picker, I'm a grinner...
There were cluster upon clusters of peaches and I know they are supposed to be about a hands width apart to form large, luscious fruit. They don't like overcrowding apparently anymore than I do.
But I just couldn't bare to do it. I am not the Master Gardener! Who am I to say which one to pluck?
I kept thinking that maybe they would all grow into mature fruit miraculously, some other way.
Maybe this would be the year that the branches would be strong enough to hold the heavily weighted limbs?
They needed to be cut away before the season began, and I knew it, I just didn't do it.
Jesus, in John 15, makes a distinction about two different types of pruning.
There is either a cutting back or a cutting off.
"He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn't produce fruit, and he prunes back the branches that do bear fruit so that they will produce even more."
Fruitful branches are cut back to promote growth. God sometimes disciplines us to strengthen our character and faith. But branches that don't bear fruit are cut off at the trunk not only because they are worthless but also because they can often infect the rest of the tree. (Tyndale's NLT New Living bible footnotes)
Interestingly, it goes onto explain that "fruit" is not limited to soul winning, but sometimes refers also to joy and love.
"I'm a lover..."
I need to stay attached to the life giving source, which is God in order to produce good fruit.
Juicy Fruit!
And sometimes, I have to allow the painful cutting back of certain things for new growth to continue.
"and I'm a sinner..."
As much as I wish I could just chop dead wood and limbs with one fell swoop of a trusty ax, most times I have to use a dull, blue hand saw that has very rusted blades. It's a painfully slow process.
Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth....it seems to take forever to cut back.
"You didn't choose me, I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name."
Mmmh? Lasting fruit?
As in....a long shelf life?
Cool! 'Cause I canned too!
Whatever I ask for?
Here goes then, "In Jesus' name, get me out of this Jam!"
"And lovey, dovey, lovey dovey, lovey dovey all the time...."
You just went made the "wrah wrah" noise didn't you?
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Happy Fun Girl: How to Stay Alive at a Cake Walk
Happy Fun Girl: How to Stay Alive at a Cake Walk: I love pie. I love cookies and I love cake. And Ace of Cakes! I want to have my cake and eat it too. Who doesn't? My friend Cindy remi...
How to Stay Alive at a Cake Walk
I love pie.
I love cookies and I love cake.
And Ace of Cakes!
I want to have my cake and eat it too.
Who doesn't?
My friend Cindy reminded me earlier today that life is not always a cake walk.
Why the heck not?
My life more accurately reflects Kitchen Nightmares, but I I really, really love Cake Walks!
Remember them from elementary school?
Those were the super fun, carnival kind of nights that the PTA put together to promote a love for education and learning.
Also, an opportunity to boost rubber duck sales used in the Duck Pond game I'm pretty sure.
I sucked at that game. This one? That one? Ugh! Which duck is the winning duck?
Typically, I picked the one that won me a roll of Sweettarts instead of the cool plastic rainbow kite that I really wanted.
Later, in my honor, my brothers would rename them, Sweetfarts.
What a gas.
Our family always attended the Family Fun Nights.
There was Bingo, Balloon Darts, Face Painting, Fishing Pole & Cake Walk games.
Typically, we enjoyed a fun round of throwing verbal darts at one another in the white station wagon on the way there.
"You're ugly. How'd you get so ugly?"
"You're adopted. Nobody will tell the truth, but you are. You were an orphan boy when we found you so shut up!"
"Brace Face!"
"Fat Boy."
"Mom, she called me fat!"
"You are fat!"
"You're still ugly."
We weren't focused on political correctness in the 70's.
Or kindness to our siblings.
Eventually, out of nowhere, my other brother would chime in some random and ridiculous fact that none of us cared a rat's &*^ about, "You know what happens when a yellow light is changing to red? There is a mechanism that...."
"SHUT UP BORRIS! NOBODY CARES!" in unison, both parents included, dad with his Pabst Blue Ribbon breath.
My brothers especially excelled at dart throwing. Verbal and otherwise.
They also shot me in the face once with a BB gun. I have a scar on the left side of my nose to prove it.
It's much more obvious than the internal ones you can't see. :)
Inner beauty, focus on inner beauty, ugly duckling.
My mother was a true beauty. She really was.
It was always fun to walk into school with my mom who looked like Barbara Eden in Harper Valley PTA minus the gogo boots, when I myself, looked like Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed.
Literally. Picture it. Headgear and all.
Not exactly a walk in the park.
But hey! It's Family Fun Night and I might get a chance to win the Cake Walk.
What could be more fun than prancing stealthily in a circle while listening to, "Stayin Alive," and hoping you are standing on the right spot when the music stops?
Praying never ever crossed my mind back then. Finger crossing yes, praying, not so much.
Round Two.
You're the one that I want, you are, you are, you are...Choco-late Cake...
Honey...
I was very good at winning Cake Walks back then.
Or at least a pan of brownies.
Dear God, do not let me win the Fruit Cake!
Round and round we go, then stop, then go....musical interlude...
I always jam music in the kitchen when I'm baking.
I don't wake and bake anymore and cheery baking requires a few cups of coffee and a lot of prayer to get myself into a full on, "Rise and Shine" mode.
I'm not an early morning good mood girl without assistance of some sort.
Loud music generally helps my cakes rise beautifully.
Sadly though, I always open the oven way too early and watch it fall faster than you can say Rachel Ray or souffle.
Or pride comes before a fall.
Ugh.
For a souffle, the magic rise is in the eggs.
Mine just tends to end up on my face.
A souffle isn't a cake anyway, they're in a different family of baked goods.
And, for the record, there is no "magic rise" happening because my temperature gauge thingy is broke...
It runs way too hot and I tend to burn things to smoldering ashes.
Am I still going in circles? Is the music still playing?
I've been kicked around
since I was born....
And now it's all right, it's ok
and you may look the other way
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man
I really hope AND pray my new book, Pig's Big Adventure makes it to The New York Times Best Selling List!
What a delicious recipe for success that would be!
"They brought the Ark of God and placed it inside the special tent David had prepared for it. And they presented burnt offerings...."
Burnt offerings? Check.
"and peace offerings to God. When he had finished his sacrifices, David blessed the people in the name of the Lord. Then he gave every man and woman in all Israel a loaf of bread, a cake of dates...."
No thank you, I'm full.
"and a cake of raisins."
Oh sweet Jesus! I said no Fruit Cake!
Life IS like a Cake Walk.
And in this game, I am a chosen child of God...
I just want to win the Sinfully Delicious Three-Layer, Blue Ribbon Chocolate Cake.
And a plastic rainbow kite to fly when I'm done burning stuff.
(1 Chronicles 16...read it while waiting for your cake to rise...totally tasty!)
I love cookies and I love cake.
And Ace of Cakes!
I want to have my cake and eat it too.
Who doesn't?
My friend Cindy reminded me earlier today that life is not always a cake walk.
Why the heck not?
My life more accurately reflects Kitchen Nightmares, but I I really, really love Cake Walks!
Remember them from elementary school?
Those were the super fun, carnival kind of nights that the PTA put together to promote a love for education and learning.
Also, an opportunity to boost rubber duck sales used in the Duck Pond game I'm pretty sure.
I sucked at that game. This one? That one? Ugh! Which duck is the winning duck?
Typically, I picked the one that won me a roll of Sweettarts instead of the cool plastic rainbow kite that I really wanted.
Later, in my honor, my brothers would rename them, Sweetfarts.
What a gas.
Our family always attended the Family Fun Nights.
There was Bingo, Balloon Darts, Face Painting, Fishing Pole & Cake Walk games.
Typically, we enjoyed a fun round of throwing verbal darts at one another in the white station wagon on the way there.
"You're ugly. How'd you get so ugly?"
"You're adopted. Nobody will tell the truth, but you are. You were an orphan boy when we found you so shut up!"
"Brace Face!"
"Fat Boy."
"Mom, she called me fat!"
"You are fat!"
"You're still ugly."
We weren't focused on political correctness in the 70's.
Or kindness to our siblings.
Eventually, out of nowhere, my other brother would chime in some random and ridiculous fact that none of us cared a rat's &*^ about, "You know what happens when a yellow light is changing to red? There is a mechanism that...."
"SHUT UP BORRIS! NOBODY CARES!" in unison, both parents included, dad with his Pabst Blue Ribbon breath.
My brothers especially excelled at dart throwing. Verbal and otherwise.
They also shot me in the face once with a BB gun. I have a scar on the left side of my nose to prove it.
It's much more obvious than the internal ones you can't see. :)
Inner beauty, focus on inner beauty, ugly duckling.
My mother was a true beauty. She really was.
It was always fun to walk into school with my mom who looked like Barbara Eden in Harper Valley PTA minus the gogo boots, when I myself, looked like Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed.
Literally. Picture it. Headgear and all.
Not exactly a walk in the park.
But hey! It's Family Fun Night and I might get a chance to win the Cake Walk.
What could be more fun than prancing stealthily in a circle while listening to, "Stayin Alive," and hoping you are standing on the right spot when the music stops?
Praying never ever crossed my mind back then. Finger crossing yes, praying, not so much.
Round Two.
You're the one that I want, you are, you are, you are...Choco-late Cake...
Honey...
I was very good at winning Cake Walks back then.
Or at least a pan of brownies.
Dear God, do not let me win the Fruit Cake!
Round and round we go, then stop, then go....musical interlude...
I always jam music in the kitchen when I'm baking.
I don't wake and bake anymore and cheery baking requires a few cups of coffee and a lot of prayer to get myself into a full on, "Rise and Shine" mode.
I'm not an early morning good mood girl without assistance of some sort.
Loud music generally helps my cakes rise beautifully.
Sadly though, I always open the oven way too early and watch it fall faster than you can say Rachel Ray or souffle.
Or pride comes before a fall.
Ugh.
For a souffle, the magic rise is in the eggs.
Mine just tends to end up on my face.
A souffle isn't a cake anyway, they're in a different family of baked goods.
And, for the record, there is no "magic rise" happening because my temperature gauge thingy is broke...
It runs way too hot and I tend to burn things to smoldering ashes.
Am I still going in circles? Is the music still playing?
I've been kicked around
since I was born....
And now it's all right, it's ok
and you may look the other way
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man
I really hope AND pray my new book, Pig's Big Adventure makes it to The New York Times Best Selling List!
What a delicious recipe for success that would be!
"They brought the Ark of God and placed it inside the special tent David had prepared for it. And they presented burnt offerings...."
Burnt offerings? Check.
"and peace offerings to God. When he had finished his sacrifices, David blessed the people in the name of the Lord. Then he gave every man and woman in all Israel a loaf of bread, a cake of dates...."
No thank you, I'm full.
"and a cake of raisins."
Oh sweet Jesus! I said no Fruit Cake!
Life IS like a Cake Walk.
And in this game, I am a chosen child of God...
I just want to win the Sinfully Delicious Three-Layer, Blue Ribbon Chocolate Cake.
And a plastic rainbow kite to fly when I'm done burning stuff.
(1 Chronicles 16...read it while waiting for your cake to rise...totally tasty!)
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Live Debt Free
I admit it.
I'm in debt up to my eyeballs.
Probably all the way up to my eyebrows.
My daughter and I were just discussing the other day how desperately we both need to be "tweezed".
Not to be confused with "tazed"...that was a discussion I had with one of my other daughters. :)
Gone are the days of getting our brows waxed and pretty pedicures.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm no Paris Hilton.
I didn't even get my first pedicure until I was 40!
But, wow! when I did...
Gone are the days of walking through Target, HEB or American Eagle and not even looking at the price tag.
Needy teenager presents the item, the tag is inspected, the shocked and horrified face follows, said item goes back on the rack with an, "Ugh! We can't afford it."
Paul, the wise and wonderful apostle said that he has had plenty and he has had nothing.
He also said the key is learning to live contently with whichever situation you are in.
Okay, I get it.
I'm content.
But, I'm just going to be straight up honest and say, "Being broke is no party!"
Faith is the only thing I've got in my savings account right now.
Ditto with the checking.
In fact, the last time I checked, I realized once again how much I am in fact, "The $500.00 Debtor."
I think about my mountainous debt situation and am reminded of the first story I ever heard when I walked into a non-denominational church years ago.
The story that brought me to my knees.
I will never forget Luke 7:36, or the priceless lesson I learned from it.
"Learning to live debt free in 700 AD!!"
Just kidding. I have no idea what decade this happened in.
Here was a woman with a tainted reputation.
Uninvited, she crashes a dinner party at some religious guy's house.
Not because she particularly wanted to dine with the Dead Sea Elitists, but because she heard he was in town and absolutely had to see Jesus!
She brought a beautiful alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume and knelt behind him, weeping and wiping her tears from his feet with her hair; kissing, caressing and putting perfume on them. I get that. I would have done the same thing. I think about what it will be like when I finally do, and I drop on a dime.
The Pharisee who invited him saw this and scoffed to himself, "If this man were a prophet , he would know what kind of woman is touching him. She is a sinner!"
Can't you just imagine his disgust and arrogant demeanor?
Jesus answered his thoughts and said, "I've got something to tell you."
"Go ahead."
"A man loaned money to two people-500 pieces of silver to one and 50 pieces to the other. But neither of them could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do you supposed loved him more after that?"
Simon answered, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt."
Ya think?
I heard that story and the red button bank alarm inside of me went off loud and clear.
I am the $500.00 debtor!
For years my girls have given me a hard time for becoming emotional during worship, or just randomly out of nowhere driving down the road. I've tried to explain to them just how indebted I feel and how I know that I cannot ever even begin to repay my debts.
Not without Jesus anyway.
I understand that woman far more than I understand those in leadership who've followed the letter of the law.
I have been forgiven so, so much....and so, I love much.
Jesus paid my debts. All of them. Every last penny.
This is my favorite part of the story;
After he was done giving Simon the hard line of "Hey, Buddy...you didn't even offer to wash my feet, greet me with a kiss or dab a little canola holy oil on my head....but this woman has not stopped kissing my feet since the minute she walked in."
Jesus went on to say, "I tell you, her sins, (and they ARE many), have been forgiven; so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little, shows little love."
Then Jesus said to the woman, "Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. go in peace."
I really wasn't kidding.
Faith is all I have in my savings account right now.
The same faith that has saved me and the same faith that will bring his promises to come to pass in my life.
Promises like, "I am rich in every way, (though not currently reflected in my bank account)...just yet!"
I believe the word is true and I've got faith.
Then I'll be thanking Jesus, bawling all over the place, and grateful as he** that I can finally get my toes done once again!
I'm in debt up to my eyeballs.
Probably all the way up to my eyebrows.
My daughter and I were just discussing the other day how desperately we both need to be "tweezed".
Not to be confused with "tazed"...that was a discussion I had with one of my other daughters. :)
Gone are the days of getting our brows waxed and pretty pedicures.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm no Paris Hilton.
I didn't even get my first pedicure until I was 40!
But, wow! when I did...
Gone are the days of walking through Target, HEB or American Eagle and not even looking at the price tag.
Needy teenager presents the item, the tag is inspected, the shocked and horrified face follows, said item goes back on the rack with an, "Ugh! We can't afford it."
Paul, the wise and wonderful apostle said that he has had plenty and he has had nothing.
He also said the key is learning to live contently with whichever situation you are in.
Okay, I get it.
I'm content.
But, I'm just going to be straight up honest and say, "Being broke is no party!"
Faith is the only thing I've got in my savings account right now.
Ditto with the checking.
In fact, the last time I checked, I realized once again how much I am in fact, "The $500.00 Debtor."
I think about my mountainous debt situation and am reminded of the first story I ever heard when I walked into a non-denominational church years ago.
The story that brought me to my knees.
I will never forget Luke 7:36, or the priceless lesson I learned from it.
"Learning to live debt free in 700 AD!!"
Just kidding. I have no idea what decade this happened in.
Here was a woman with a tainted reputation.
Uninvited, she crashes a dinner party at some religious guy's house.
Not because she particularly wanted to dine with the Dead Sea Elitists, but because she heard he was in town and absolutely had to see Jesus!
She brought a beautiful alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume and knelt behind him, weeping and wiping her tears from his feet with her hair; kissing, caressing and putting perfume on them. I get that. I would have done the same thing. I think about what it will be like when I finally do, and I drop on a dime.
The Pharisee who invited him saw this and scoffed to himself, "If this man were a prophet , he would know what kind of woman is touching him. She is a sinner!"
Can't you just imagine his disgust and arrogant demeanor?
Jesus answered his thoughts and said, "I've got something to tell you."
"Go ahead."
"A man loaned money to two people-500 pieces of silver to one and 50 pieces to the other. But neither of them could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do you supposed loved him more after that?"
Simon answered, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt."
Ya think?
I heard that story and the red button bank alarm inside of me went off loud and clear.
I am the $500.00 debtor!
For years my girls have given me a hard time for becoming emotional during worship, or just randomly out of nowhere driving down the road. I've tried to explain to them just how indebted I feel and how I know that I cannot ever even begin to repay my debts.
Not without Jesus anyway.
I understand that woman far more than I understand those in leadership who've followed the letter of the law.
I have been forgiven so, so much....and so, I love much.
Jesus paid my debts. All of them. Every last penny.
This is my favorite part of the story;
After he was done giving Simon the hard line of "Hey, Buddy...you didn't even offer to wash my feet, greet me with a kiss or dab a little canola holy oil on my head....but this woman has not stopped kissing my feet since the minute she walked in."
Jesus went on to say, "I tell you, her sins, (and they ARE many), have been forgiven; so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little, shows little love."
Then Jesus said to the woman, "Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. go in peace."
I really wasn't kidding.
Faith is all I have in my savings account right now.
The same faith that has saved me and the same faith that will bring his promises to come to pass in my life.
Promises like, "I am rich in every way, (though not currently reflected in my bank account)...just yet!"
I believe the word is true and I've got faith.
Then I'll be thanking Jesus, bawling all over the place, and grateful as he** that I can finally get my toes done once again!
Friday, May 4, 2012
May Day! Door knob Do-hicky or Distress Call?
A few days ago (now that I'm almost finished with this blog), it was May 1st, and in my enthusiasm to salute spring, the celebration of Motherhood, Cinco de Mayo and the last month of school, I had hoped to adorn the neighbors door knobs in true May Day fashion.
As a little girl, on this special day we would make hand made baskets out of things like Dixie Cups or paper plates and decorate them beautifully.
Next we would tie little ribbons through the top and fill each one with assorted tasty treats like popcorn (I'm a corn girl, I love all things corn) miniature candy bars, Hershey's kisses, a few little flowers we'd pick from the yard, etc...
Then we'd run around like special op agents hanging them on friend's and neighbor's doors, ringing the bell and running off to hide somewhere while we watched for their smiling faces to appear happy and surprised.
Some surprises are not so grand, but this was a fun way to brighten people's day and also a great reason for my friends and I to get together, get crafty and eat chocolate.
Many times I've mentioned it to friends here in Texas, well, probably 15 times to be exact, every year since I've been here anyway.
I'm always sadly reminded that not many people here have a clue what I'm talking about.
I was happy to see a Facebook post the other day from Connie, who apparently also has fond memories of the holiday.
I was excited to think about making my own baskets and pondering what little goodies I could put in them, but found myself quite distracted with the other kind of May Day.
You know, the one that you call out if you are in a dire emergency and in need of some assistance.
MAYDAY!
I read that you are supposed to send out the distress call three times and only if it is a serious emergency that could result in death or destruction of a vessel.
Lol! Indeed there may be death or destruction as I had the opportunity to celebrate my own three Mayday shout outs.
And although I'm not at liberty to elaborate on any of them at this point, because, well, go back and read my Duct Tape Doctrine blog that pretty much sums up, "shutting your big fat mouth" as my mom would say. :)
Mother May I?
My personal motherhood experiences are not so much gracing the covers of any Hallmark cards, though I am aware of how entertaining, yet not so endearing they would read.
Tragedy plus time equals comedy, I've recently read.
Maybe if they start carrying card stock "Jerry Springer type" sentiments...
Oh, no wait, who knows, maybe the new best selling line could be the, "No More Wire Hanger Greetings."
I may have to submit some samples of my work.
"Congratulations on not getting your butt kicked in jail!
You've always been a fighter!"
:D
Anyway.... back to Mayday!!!
During my nine hour drive the other day, It registered in my brain that it was May Day, but I would absolutely not be making any Martha Stewart handmade baskets.
Instead, I fancied myself to be a lot like the guy standing on the bridge of the titanic when he realized with wide eyes, "Oh wow! That is a really BIG iceburg!"
I wonder if he, like me....just for a minute or two wondered what it would feel like to hit it.
The iceburg.
The reverse rudder was not working.
Will some nice mom remind me again why we celebrate Motherhood?
Am I the only one who would have been screaming, "No! Get your own wood door for a flotation device! There's not enough room for us all, you're drowning me, get off already!"
Oh sure....it started out as a walk on the water with Jesus kind of day but ended up with the distress call.
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
I learned in an in depth, five second study that a Mayday Relay is a call that someone else makes for you if you are unable to make the call for help on your own.
Aaaaha!! Now I'm on to something.
"Hello? Coast Guard?"
No wait.
"Jesus? Beloved water walker?"
"I'll bring you some pretty popcorn filled baskets if you promise to keep us all from drowning!"
"A shout for help brought their partners in the other boat, and soon both boats were filled with fish and on the verge of sinking." Luke 5:7
If I'm going down...the tasty fish are going with me!
Happy Cinco De Mayo a day in advance.
As a little girl, on this special day we would make hand made baskets out of things like Dixie Cups or paper plates and decorate them beautifully.
Next we would tie little ribbons through the top and fill each one with assorted tasty treats like popcorn (I'm a corn girl, I love all things corn) miniature candy bars, Hershey's kisses, a few little flowers we'd pick from the yard, etc...
Then we'd run around like special op agents hanging them on friend's and neighbor's doors, ringing the bell and running off to hide somewhere while we watched for their smiling faces to appear happy and surprised.
Some surprises are not so grand, but this was a fun way to brighten people's day and also a great reason for my friends and I to get together, get crafty and eat chocolate.
Many times I've mentioned it to friends here in Texas, well, probably 15 times to be exact, every year since I've been here anyway.
I'm always sadly reminded that not many people here have a clue what I'm talking about.
I was happy to see a Facebook post the other day from Connie, who apparently also has fond memories of the holiday.
I was excited to think about making my own baskets and pondering what little goodies I could put in them, but found myself quite distracted with the other kind of May Day.
You know, the one that you call out if you are in a dire emergency and in need of some assistance.
MAYDAY!
I read that you are supposed to send out the distress call three times and only if it is a serious emergency that could result in death or destruction of a vessel.
Lol! Indeed there may be death or destruction as I had the opportunity to celebrate my own three Mayday shout outs.
And although I'm not at liberty to elaborate on any of them at this point, because, well, go back and read my Duct Tape Doctrine blog that pretty much sums up, "shutting your big fat mouth" as my mom would say. :)
Mother May I?
My personal motherhood experiences are not so much gracing the covers of any Hallmark cards, though I am aware of how entertaining, yet not so endearing they would read.
Tragedy plus time equals comedy, I've recently read.
Maybe if they start carrying card stock "Jerry Springer type" sentiments...
Oh, no wait, who knows, maybe the new best selling line could be the, "No More Wire Hanger Greetings."
I may have to submit some samples of my work.
"Congratulations on not getting your butt kicked in jail!
You've always been a fighter!"
:D
Anyway.... back to Mayday!!!
During my nine hour drive the other day, It registered in my brain that it was May Day, but I would absolutely not be making any Martha Stewart handmade baskets.
Instead, I fancied myself to be a lot like the guy standing on the bridge of the titanic when he realized with wide eyes, "Oh wow! That is a really BIG iceburg!"
I wonder if he, like me....just for a minute or two wondered what it would feel like to hit it.
The iceburg.
The reverse rudder was not working.
Will some nice mom remind me again why we celebrate Motherhood?
Am I the only one who would have been screaming, "No! Get your own wood door for a flotation device! There's not enough room for us all, you're drowning me, get off already!"
Oh sure....it started out as a walk on the water with Jesus kind of day but ended up with the distress call.
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
I learned in an in depth, five second study that a Mayday Relay is a call that someone else makes for you if you are unable to make the call for help on your own.
Aaaaha!! Now I'm on to something.
"Hello? Coast Guard?"
No wait.
"Jesus? Beloved water walker?"
"I'll bring you some pretty popcorn filled baskets if you promise to keep us all from drowning!"
"A shout for help brought their partners in the other boat, and soon both boats were filled with fish and on the verge of sinking." Luke 5:7
If I'm going down...the tasty fish are going with me!
Happy Cinco De Mayo a day in advance.
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