Today, I want to be serious about something important that’s been on my mind and in my heart.

This past Sunday, our minister had an exceptionally good sermon from Proverbs about being wise about our families.  He stressed that we should lead Christ centered lives within our families and that doing so is THE most important thing we can do for our children.  If we fail in that, we have really failed in all, and I truly believe that.

In discussing how we should structure our family’s lives, he used an analogy I had never heard used before, and deemed it excellent.  He spoke of our country having U.S. Embassies all around the world on foreign soil.  Yet, when you walk into any one of them, you are considered to be on American soil and under the dictates of America’s laws and structure.

Likewise, we should each consider our own homes to be a Heaven’s Embassy, where a taste and touch of Heaven is found, rather than a war zone.  This resonated with me.

I have never delved much into my distant past here in this blog, nor am I going to do so today.  However, I will share this with you.  For years, I felt as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders always.  Even when I was in our house.  Often, it was a war zone.  In fact, I will never forget the overriding feeling I had the afternoon after my younger son, Mark, and I moved out of the house we had lived in for more than 14 years and into a tiny apartment in the same town.

More than anything else, when we came in the apartment amidst boxes and piles of things and I shut the door and locked it, I felt relief and a quiet calm that Mark and I were safe.  It was peaceful.  The entire world was outside!!  We were inside and this was truly our home!!  It was a place of rest and relaxation and love and spiritual solace.  It was a bit of Heaven.

I’ve felt that way ever since.  That was 34 years ago in January and my home – our home – has always been a God inspired respite from the world since.  I have not allowed satan (I refuse to capitalize his name or pay him any honor) to come in to cause division or turmoil or strife between any of my family members, and certainly not to reside.

I’m not saying we haven’t had troubles and trials and even tribulations.  What I’m saying is that when we close the doors to our home, the world is left out.  God is with us through all and in all and leads us in all things.  He is our protector and shield.  We war not with each other or ourselves.

Think about this today.  About making your OWN home an embassy of Heaven.

What say ye?

God bless each of you today!  Cheers!  And have a great weekend!  Dee

Us?  I made some of Tom’s Taco Soup the other day (1/2 the recipe, it was so much) and it turned out great.  I added some extra seasoning and things to it and Tom really likes it, so when I get it down pat, I’ll post it on here to share with you, okay?!  It’s economical and delicious.  Next time I plan to make cornbread with it.  Tom ate it with tortilla chips the other night.

Cheers!  And God bless you each today!  Dee

THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW BUT PROBABLY DON’T

1. Money isn’t made out of paper, it’s made out of cotton.

2. The Declaration of Independence was written on hemp (marijuana) paper.

3. The dot over the letter ‘i’ is called a ‘tittle.’

4. A raisin dropped in a glass of fresh champagne will bounce up and down continuously from the bottom of the glass to the top.

5. Susan Lucci is the daughter of Phyllis Diller .

6. 40% of McDonald’s profits come from the sales of Happy Meals.

7. 315 entries in Webster ‘s 1996 Dictionary were misspelled.

8. The ‘spot’ on 7UP comes from its inventor, who had red eyes.  He was albino.

9. On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents, daily.

10. Warren Beatty and Shirley MacLaine are brother and sister.

11. Chocolate affects a dog’s heart and nervous system; a few ounces will kill a small-sized dog.

12. Orcas (killer whales) kill sharks by torpedoing up into the shark’s stomach from underneath, causing the shark to explode.

13. Most lipstick contains fish scales (eeww).

14. Donald Duck comics were banned from Finland because he doesn’t wear pants.

15. Ketchup was sold in the 1830′s as medicine.

16. Upper- and lower-case letters are named ‘upper’ and ‘lower’ because in the time when all original print had to be set in individual letters, the Upper case’ letters were stored in the case on top of the case that stored the smaller, ‘lower case’ letters.

17. Leonardo Da Vinci could write with one hand and draw with the other at the same time, hence multi-tasking was invented.

18. Because metal was scarce, the Oscars given out during World War II were made of wood.

19. There are no clocks in Las Vegas gambling casinos.

20. The name Wendy was made up for the book Peter Pan; there was never a recorded Wendy before!

21. There are no words in the dictionary that rhyme with: orange, purple, and silver.

22. Leonardo Da Vinci invented scissors.  Also, it took him 10 years to paint Mona Lisa ‘s lips.

23. A tiny amount of liquor on a scorpion will make it instantly go mad and sting itself to death

24. The mask used by Michael Myers in the original ‘Halloween’ was a Captain Kirk’s mask painted white..

25. If you have three quarters, four dimes, and four pennies, youhave $1.19. You also have the largest amount of money in coins without being able to make change for a dollar (good to know.)

26. By raising your legs slowly and lying on your back, you can’t sink in quicksand (and you thought this list was completely useless.)

27. The phrase ‘rule of thumb’ is derived from an old English law, which stated that you couldn’t beat your wife with anything wider than your thumb.

28. The first product Motorola started to develop was a record player for automobiles. At that time, the most known player on the market was the Victrola, so they called themselves Motorola.

29. Celery has negative calories! It takes more calories to eat a piece of celery than the celery has in it to begin with.  It’s the same with apples.

30. Chewing gum while peeling onions will keep you from crying!

31. The glue on Israeli postage stamps is certified kosher.

32. Guinness Book of Records holds the record for being the book most often stolen from Public Libraries.

33. Astronauts are not allowed to eat beans before they go into space because passing wind in a space suit damages it.

I NEED TO REMEMBER THIS.

34. George Carlin said it best about Martha Stewart, “Boy, I feel a lot safer now that she’s behind bars. O. J. Simpson and Kobe Bryant are still walking around;  Osama Bin Laden too, but they take the ONE woman in America willing to cook, clean, and work in the yard, and they haul her off to jail.”

The day he brought the crock pot home, he came prepared.  He also bought a prepackaged chuck roast that had carrots, onions, potatoes & a seasoning packet with it.  He got up the next morning, filled the crock pot and “voila” dinner started simmering for hours, smelling wonderful.

It wasn’t until after dinner was over that I pointed out the fact that we could have purchased all of the parts and pieces of the meal separately for a lot less.  And I tried to do so gently, since he was not only a fledgling cook, but also a big help to me in taking over the dinner preparations.  Up until this point in his retirement, his daily crisis in life had consistently been “so . . . what’s for dinner?”  He always used those same words about the same time of day.  Just after I finished making him lunch and he ate it.  He immediately started worrying about dinner.

And, I mean, it’s not like I never fed him – or that he had ever done without too many meals.  It seemed to me to stem more from either a long ago insecurity over not being fed enough as a little kid or else (my theory) he had way too much time on his hands and had nothing better to do than harass me unceasingly about why I wasn’t spending hours each day in the kitchen.

[I must note here, too, that when he retired was about the same time that my blogging regularly became a problem.  I'm not casting blame, you understand.  I'm just sayin'.]

Anyway . . . he was so excited at his crock pot success, he decided to try something else in it.  He was completely enamored with his new kitchen toy . . . sensation . . . appliance and now wanted to fix everything in it.  Or, at least serve everything in it.  Including things we had always before prepared and served in big pots on the stove.  Like chili.  And crawfish corn bisque.  And gumbo.  And this proved especially so when we invited friends to come eat with us.  Whereas before we had usually had everyone serve themselves in the kitchen out of one of our big pots on the stove, he now thought our pots were just too “ugly” to serve guests from any more.  We now needed to transfer whatever we had prepared to the crock pot on the counter top where we could keep it warm.

I didn’t see the crock pot as being any better looking than our pots.  And, I certainly didn’t see any need to now have to wash and scrub two separate containers when one would do.  That just doubled my work load.  But, he wouldn’t be swayed.  When he finally, albeit reluctantly, agreed to wash up both containers for me, I relented.  But, I wasn’t a happy camper, I’m tellin’ ya.

This went on for two or three weeks – him wanting to fill the crock pot every other day with some big batch of food and then invite friends over to be served from it.  My freezer was already beginning to overload, but he was still at it.  And he thought his first try with the roast, et al, was such a success, he wanted to try another dish.  This time from scratch.  I had him peruse my cookbooks and every single recipe I had, but he found them all lacking somehow.  So, instead, he did what he had really wanted to do in the first place.  He jumped online to find a “perfect” one for him to try.   (Of course.  Why didn’t I think of that.  Where does one go these days.  I mean – how on earth had I managed all these years with only about a dozen or more cookbooks and piles of good recipes I’d collected from family and friends over half a century.)

It took him a while, but finally he found one he liked.  He printed it out and even went to the grocery store with me to purchase all of the ingredients.  When we got home, he pulled his crock pot out to set on the counter top for the next morning.  He placed all of his cans of corn, tomatoes and other veggies nearby, along with the box of chicken broth he needed to use.  The meat went in the fridge and he planned on getting up early to get dinner started in the crock pot because it was supposed to cook eight hours or longer on low.  We usually eat around 6 or 6:30 p.m., so time was of the essence.

The next day it was about noon before I came into the kitchen for the first time.  I’d had a really bad night and had slept very late.  I assumed Tom had everything under control.

I was shocked when I looked around.  The crock pot was sitting there plugged in with the lid off, but it only had a couple of things in it.  There were opened cans sitting all around with veggies still in all but two of them.  The box of broth had been opened, too, but was still full.  The meat was nowhere to be seen.  Neither was Tom.

I found him over at his desk in our living room talking on the phone.

When he finally got off the phone, I asked him who it was and what he had been doing all morning.  He said he’d been on his computer earlier, including Facebook, iTunes and YouTube, and then had phone calls from two friends and had called his brother.  The conversations had been long, he said, and had taken up a lot more time than he’d thought.

In other words, he’d gotten completely sidetracked playing around on his computer and talking with friends.  All morning.  It was now past noon and the kitchen was a mess with nothing cooking.  The cook had played hooky it seemed.  It was way too late to start his recipe that had to cook in the crock pot for over eight hours to be ready to eat.

But, I wasn’t upset.

Nope.  Not a bit.  I thought it was rather funny.

Besides – it gave me the perfect opportunity to say what I’d been dying to say since I’d come in the kitchen.

“So . . . ” I asked him.  Sweetly.  “What’s for dinner?”

Tom & I have been very disappointed by the coverage and lack thereof we’ve seen on television, the main source for many of us for these very visual stories.  Today, a good journalist friend of ours sent us a link to the Hollywood Reporter online, of all places, which has an excellent editorial about the pitiful cable and network news coverage of the events in Japan and I want to share it with you here.

It’s a piece written by Tim Goodwin.  It won’t take you long to read and I’m sure will raise many thoughts and comments among you.  It sure did me.

“Analysis:  TV Cable of Japan Crisis is Lacking.”

I’ll try really hard to be back a little later here with my latest in Tom stories.  He’s gone sailing this afternoon, so I have some “free” time. ha!  Dee

Each day he says, well, I think I’ll go over to the boat day after tomorrow, the weather is forecast to be really favorable that day.  But, when that day arrives, it is never as favorable as he had prayed it would be.

He always goes to Mardi Gras in New Orleans in the winter, but this year, Mardi Gras is “late” – not until March 8.  The day after – Ash Wednesday – begins the countdown toward Easter, which, in turn, will also be later than usual.  Easter this year will be on the last Sunday in April – April 24.

It’s also not music festivals time of year or weather, either.  He loves to go to as many music festivals as he can every year around New Orleans, and he even works security for some of them, in exchange for getting in free, getting paid a small amount and getting to hang out around the stages.  But, those don’t crank up until late March, if not mid-April.

In other words – this is a dead time of year.  It’s winter.  So, he’s had a lot of time on his hands.  He’s bored.

He’s amassed a rather large collection of electronic toys already, and those fill a good bit of his time, as well as costing me a bundle of money.  But, that’s at least one blog post, if not more, for another day.

Today, we’re going to talk about his recent venture into the world of domesticity.  Cooking, to be exact.  And not exactly at the chef’s level, either, as much as he wanders around the house seeking praise for his culinary skills.  I mean, he’s got the bravado down pat.  What he’s really hoping is that will translate into everyone (me) seeing his work is much too important than to require that he clean up after himself when he’s been working in the kitchen.

And, boy, can he make a mess.

That’s afterward, though.  Let’s begin at the beginning.

First and foremost, he’s very selective about what dishes he wants to invest his time and energy into.  He’s long been into the manly art of grilling and smoking all sorts of meats with all sorts of marinades and accoutrements.  I think, and so does just about everyone who has ever partaken of his tasty meats, fish and shrimp from the grill or smoker, that Tom’s dishes are the best I’ve had anywhere.  We rarely ever order steak when we go out to eat because his grilled steaks are to die for and few others compare.

Then, there’s his award winning smoked baby back pork ribs, rubbed with our special dry rub mixture and then doused at the table in Tom’s best friend Ron’s mother’s secret homemade Kentucky BBQ sauce.  We are one of the very exclusive few who have been honored with the recipe, but we cannot and will not divulge it to anyone else.  They are awesome!

He’s always also, on special occasions, been open to fixin’ big breakfasts.  Usually, when we have overnight guests he can feed.  His specialties include egg dishes of all sorts – omelets, scrambled eggs, fried eggs or perhaps French toast.  Bacon and/or sausage is a must, as well as biscuits, with toast being a poor substitute.  He makes good waffles, but his couple of tries at pancakes didn’t turn out too well.  He’s still honing that skill.

Lately, however, much to my chagrin, he’s expanded his interests in preparing food.  In my kitchen.  Without my help or advice.

It began when he was helping me by emptying the dish washer.  He was looking in the cabinets and cupboards and pantry at what all was in there and what was not.  He came to the conclusion that even though I’ve been cooking since I was a young girl of about eight or 10, and have always been considered a good (and efficient, if I might say so) cook, my kitchen utensils and equipment were desperately lacking.

First, we needed a blender.

“Well,” I said, “We had one till I went out to Texas leaving you home alone and you burned it up partying.”

“Oh,” he said.

[Side note:  He either burned up the blender or blew it up, or both partying with the grandkids.  I never did get the whole story, nor do I probably want to know.]

Nevertheless, we had to go out shopping for one.  When he gets on a quest, there is no deterring him.  I mean, you think women are bad (and I’m not a shopper) – you should see Tom on a shopping quest.  We have to go to every single store that could possibly, or even remotely, sell whatever he’s seeking.  He’s the same about it whether it comes to electronics, computers, TVs, music, household appliances, kitchen appliances large and small and even utensils.

I never want to spend the money.  He always starts at the top end with whatever he thinks “we” “need” and I have to work him down to reality.   It worked out well with the new blender.  We found one at Hudson’s Salvage here in Picayune in a damaged box that we later found out was the very same price as one at Walmart we had somehow missed.  But, he thought it was a great bargain, so we got it.

Then, “we” “needed” a toaster.  Again, I pointed out what was the obvious to me, “We already have a really nice big toaster oven that makes toast.”

“But, it’s not the same as from a real toaster,” he said.  “You know – the toast doesn’t pop up.”

I held out as long as I could, which was a long time, but he finally got his way and we have a separate toaster, now.  It’s only a two slice toaster, not four, like he wanted, but a “real” one, anyway.

Of course, then he wanted to leave it sitting out on my kitchen counter top.  If we had every single small kitchen appliance that he thinks “we” should have, I would need a kitchen about five times bigger because he likes to look at them right there in front of him, “handy to use,” he says.  I say they clutter my counter tops so that I have no space for mixing up ingredients and cooking.  So far, I’m winning, but we are running out of storage space – rapidly now, the past few months – so I don’t know how much longer this will work.  Him cooking, I mean.  And buying more “necessities” for the kitchen.  And finding places to store them.

That’s because . . . and this is hard for me to say . . . he made his latest kitchen appliance purchase when I totally screwed up sent him alone to the grocery store (our teeny, tiny, yet “Super” Walmart) to buy some groceries and he came home with a humongous crock pot.  I’m thinking the thing must hold about 25 gallons.  On sale, of course.  Cheap.  Except when you want to cook with it and have to fill it to 3/4 with food.  Or have to eat and eat and eat from it for about two weeks after with all of the leftovers.  Then, freeze what remains after that.

I mean, this thing holds a LOT of food.  For two people.

It also takes up a whole LOT of space.  For any number of people.

And, now he’s always wanting to create dishes using it.  People, we are in trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~

To Be Continued . . . As you’ll read next time (I promise really soon!).  I’ve gone on too long already, so must stop here.

Cheers!  And many blessings to each of you today!  Dee

The holidays are rapidly upon us, so I’ve been dieting to get ready to eat just a bit extra, you know?!  But, somehow, the diet doesn’t seem to be working.  Do you think? . . .  Just sayin’ . . . .

Oh, and I also got a brand new recipe from a good friend of mine, who says it’s a tried and true “Tequila Christmas Cake.”  That sounded interesting, so thought I might try it.  But, Tom knows my friend and after he read the recipe, he wasn’t willing to do me a big favor and go buy the tequila I needed to make it.  I’m not sure why.  What do you think?

TEQUILA CHRISTMAS CAKE

1 cup sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 cup water
1 tsp. salt
1 cup brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
Nuts
1 bottle tequila
2 cups dried fruit

Sample the tequila to check quality.

Take a large bowl; check the tequila again to be sure it is of the highest quality…Repeat.

Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add 1 teaspoon of sugar. Beat again.
At this point, it is best to make sure the tequila is still OK.
Try another cup just in case.
Turn off the mixerer thingy.Break 2 eggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the fruit up off the floor.
Mix on the turner.If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers, just pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the tequila to test for tonsisticity. Next, sift 2 cups of salt, or something.Check the tequila. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.Greash the oven.Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Don’t forget to beat off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through the window.

Finish the tequila and wipe the counter with the cat.

Cherry Mistmas!

*   *   *   *   *   *

I couldn’t resist, y’all.  Thought it was funny.  Unless it were true.  That might be another story.

Actually, I have a Lemon Buttermilk Pound Cake in the oven baking right now for tomorrow, especially for my beloved son Mark and my beloved husband Tom.  It mixed up really well and is looking good, but when I got my Bundt pound cake pan out yesterday, it was full of dust!  Yikes!  I’m just hoping my baking skills are not all rusty, as well.

The recipe is from a wonderful Christian woman who were also neighbors growing up out in west Texas.  A very similar recipe is in my all time favorite cookbook from about 1962 or so, “Treasured Recipes,” published by the Lubbock Christian “College” Associates.  LCU was a two year school then and that cookbook has some amazingly still great recipes in it that I use all the time.

There are also a whole lot of recipes in there that I’ve never seen anywhere else and haven’t seen in a very long time, that I need to try once again.  It reminds me of something a good friend said to Tom as a large group of us were eating casseroles and a big assortment of food after Tom’s daughter, Kim, “died.

They were sampling something really delicious, when he turned to Tom and said, “I can tell somebody really old made this dish.”

Well, today, somebody really old is making a lemon buttermilk pound cake for Thanksgiving!

Cheers!  Many blessings to each of you today and have a MOST blessed Thanksgiving!!  Dee

He also had to get the swing keel down in the water under the boat and get  the small outboard motor going to get us out of the harbor.  Every step he took, I was afraid he was going to fall off the boat.  I tried to keep out of the way and kept yelling to him, “Be careful!”

I knew that if he fell in the water, there was no way I could get him back on board.  Once we got under way, it was even worse.  If he fell off the boat out from the harbor, I had no clue how to stop the boat and turn it around.

Well – I could slow it down a whole lot, I knew, but letting the sheets go loose to the jib and mainsail, but after that – I dreaded to think.

Tom listened to me patiently, but finally tried to quiet me by saying, “Dee – I do this all the time, I know what I’m doing and I’m being careful.  Everything will be okay.”

It became easier once we were under way and I began to really enjoy myself.  Then, the lessons began.  You see – sailors have a totally different vocabulary.

For instance, there are no ropes on a boat.  Only lines and sheets.  Sheets are the “ropes” that attach to the sails.  Thus, our boat has jib (the forward, smaller sail) sheets and main sheets (the large, duh, main sail).  The rest of the many “ropes” on the boats are lines.

Also, there are no door or walls on a boat.  The “door” is the hatch and the “walls” are all bulkheads.  The right side on the boat, facing the front, is starboard and the left side is port.  The front of the boat is the bow, while the back of the boat is the stern.  The vocabulary goes on and on endlessly, but I learned enough to sound semi-intelligent by asking many times, “So . . . what’s this do-hicky?”

Captain Tom was really proud to have me on board, except for one thing.  You see, in the three years now he’s had the boat, he has not let one person use the little port-a-potty because he didn’t want to have to later empty out the holding tank, etc.  I told him there was no way I could go out for several hours without using it.  He uses a jug he bought especially for that purpose, himself, and then empties it over the side and washes it out.  So, he said, “Don’t you think you could just use that?  It has a wide mouth on it, Dee?  Come on.  Try it.  I don’t want to have to mess with the port-a-potty.”

I popped a canned drink and said . . . well – you don’t really want to know what I said.  ha!

So . . . while most people christen boats with a bottle of champagne across the bow, I christened Tom’s boat by peeing in the port-a-potty.  Hey – it worked for me!

By the way – have you taken a good look at the photo above?  See anything amiss?  Think about it and comment if you think you know.  I’m not going to tell you till everyone has had a good guess (or bad one).

We sailed out to Cat Island, a barrier island about seven miles out and then turned around to start back while eating our roast beef sandwiches.  We saw a couple of dolphins swimming across our bow and a loon in the water giving it’s lonesome cry.  Loons are fun to watch fishing.  They dive into the water and take forever to come back to the surface.  Neat birds.

We got back into the harbor and the slip about 4 p.m.  I had intended to captain the boat some myself while we were out, but Tom used his auto tiller the entire time, which guides the boat on whatever course he sets.  It’s a pretty neat instrument that I got him the first year he had the boat.  It’s really a necessary item for someone who wants to sail alone.

The auto tiller lets Tom do what he does best, which you can see in the photo above.  Lean against the “bulkhead” and enjoy being out on the water!

I had a great time and can’t wait to go out again now that I’ve taken the plunge and gone the first time.  Y’all come see us and we’ll take you out!  Don’t worry if you need a potty break, either.  Now that it’s been christened, Tom has relented and said it could be used again.  It wasn’t the end of the world to have to bring home the small holding tank to empty out.  I figure that was what it was made for, ya know?

Cheers!  And many blessings to each of you today!  Dee

I took the plunge Saturday and christened Tom’s sailboat - Item 7 – with my lovely presence.  I also officially christened it another way, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

He’s only had the boat three years, after all.  I had to make sure he could handle it well and that it was safe to venture out, you know.  A girl can’t be too careful these days.  I figured that by now with all of the stuff I’ve had to get him for the boat (that he just had to have to safely and comfortably sail, you know) it should be fit for a Queen to sail.

You’d think so, anyway.  I mean, he’s awfully proud of it and has been sailing a lot this fall, after a very late start this year.  He went sailing a couple of days last week, the weather has been so gorgeous.  But, he wanted me to go out with him so he could show off his “other” love (besides me).

We were going to go Friday, but it was too windy.  Saturday it was perfect weather, and I do mean, perfect for sailing.  Good breezes, but not blowing hard.  Mid-70s, bright and sunny and very few clouds.

I made us roast beef sandwiches and got out the potato chips while he got an ice chest of drinks for us to take.  We took jackets with us, but didn’t need those at all, and we headed out.  The 40 minute drive over to the coast was lovely; about half way there we hit the beach.  It was the kind of day you want to last forever when you’re starting out, ya know?  Have you ever had one of those?  The kind that makes you want to exclaim, “This is the BEST day of my life!”

(That’s actually an inside joke for our friend, Ron, who took Tom & me sailing one fall day several years ago while his wife, Debra, was having to work.  It was much cooler that day and the wind was stronger, but it was fantastic.  I took over sailing the boat as Tom & Ron took a break.  We were really heeled over and I was laughing out loud at the thrill of it all.  Ron called Debra and told her what I just said above.  When the conversation was finished, Ron turned to us sheepishly and said, “Don’t ever tell your wife you’re having the best day of your life when she’s not with you!”  We still laugh about that all the time all of these years later.  Just a hint for you guys out there.)

We hauled everything out to the boat in the slip and Tom started packing things aboard.  Then we came to the first “tricky” part.  Tom’s little “finger” pier that runs out along side the boat in the harbor for getting on and off the boat (that was there when he got the slip) is narrow and rickety.  It’s probably 15′ long, without a center brace pole beneath it, so it wobbles.  That fact, plus the facts that I’m (1) scared of heights – I was probably 6′ above the water, (2) have a fear of water, strange as that may be for a sailor – which I used to be(!), (3) you have to step across on to the moving boat – small ones are move around more than bigger ones, and (4) I hadn’t been out on a boat at all  in 5 1/2 years, all made me scared – to – death – momentarily.

Tom went ahead of me, while I gripped his hand and arm ferociously until I was safely down on the finger pier, out to the end of it, and then safely across and down on the boat.  Whew!  That was a feat for someone who used to be so cool about sailing.  I mean, I was the one who bought a Hobie 18′ with wings 22 years ago when I was living over there on the coast!  Here’s a photo of one like mine (sails and all), except mine had bright turquoise hulls and trampoline :

I used to do THAT!!  What the guy in the photo is doing.  You wear what they call a “butt bucket,” which is a diaper-like sling you get into, and then you get on the high side of the boat as it’s traveling rapidly through the water.  What fun!!

Tom & I went sailing all the time (as you may remember from some of my posts several years ago, when we still had the Hobie).  We kept the catamaran for 15 years and had always had a blast with it.  We’re way past those days, but not past good sailing days, as I so hesitantly found out Saturday.

I’ve lots more to share with you, but don’t want to take up your entire day, so will stop here.  The first photo above shows Tom next to the tiller sailing the boat.  The photo wasn’t taken Saturday, as we forgot to take our camera and Tom, much to his dismay, but my delight, forgot to take his phone that takes pictures.  But, he had that exact same shirt on and shorts and was barefoot most of the afternoon.

Next time, I’ll delve into (1) the language and culture of sailing and (2) how I came to christened the boat, other than by my presence on it.  I’ll also try to give you a descriptive “tour” of the boat.

Till then . . . Cheers!  And many blessings to each of you today! Dee

Tom has gone sailing today.*

Okay, you say, so what’s the big deal about that?

Well, due to circumstances way beyond our/his control, this is the very first time he’s had the chance.  If you are regular readers, and I’m sure you all are, then you’ve read my posts all spring and summer long about all of the difficulties he’s had in (1) trying to get the boat out of the yard and to the harbor in Long Beach, (2) into the water, (3) decent weather to sail, i.e, triple digits and terrible heat all summer, hurricanes in the gulf, and, oh yeah, (4) does anyone remember the oil spill??!!

Bless his heart, he’s been on a roller coaster ride in his feelings about all of it trying to decide what was best to do with so many things seeming to be directed against him.  He put the boat out in the water in late June and had to immediately take it back out of the water due to oil approaching the shore.

Then, he was going to put it behind an acquaintance’s house in Slidell and try to sail in Lake Pontchartrain.  But, it was so hot and he was so disconcerted about the whole deal, he never got around to taking it over.  He wrestled with how he could just sit on the boat to relax while less than 30 yards from someone’s back windows.  He sure couldn’t spend the night on the boat, which he really likes to do, just to get away for a few hours.

From experience, I can tell you that being out on the water away from “civilization” for a while is wondrous!  Tom & I were sailing in from about seven miles out on Cat Island south of Long Beach, Mississippi one night on the Hobie.  The wind was from directly behind us, so the sea was smooth and the sails were set to go fast.

There was a full moon behind us lighting our path to shore.  The sea shimmered from the moonlight and hundreds of thousands of shiny, glowing, tiny sea creatures that made the water luminous.  It was exhilarating. It was heavenly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I don’t know if he’ll get the chance to actually go out today because of the north wind.  But, he took enough provisions to last about a week, that’s for sure!!  HE – WAS – SO – EXCITED!!

I’ll leave you on that note.  It’s a good day, today.  Cooler, fall air has blown in, so it’s in the mid 70s right now  at 1:30 p.m.  The bright sun is out and our house is open to our big screened in back porch.

Many blessings to each of you today!  Dee

*The boat in the photo above is not Tom’s sailboat, of course.  But, I think he’d be just as happy to be out in that little boat if he had a little sail on it.  He’s sailed boats that size before in Sunfish races.

She’s not been writing so much lately, with trying to keep up with not only Mark and Zoe, Hannah & Kayci, but also several little ones she babysits.  I’m always amazed at how much she DOES get done, I’m tellin’ ya.

But, today is her dad’s birthday and she had some thoughts that just HAD to come out!  She wrote the blog post below on her blog today and I was so taken with it, I asked her if she would be my guest blogger today.  She agreed, and I am SO glad.

So, here it is.  It is beautifully and eloquently written and delves into the mind of a mature woman, wife, mother, daughter, friend, who is MY friend for loving my son & my granddaughters and for much more.  I love her dearly.

I think you will find below much to think about and ponder.  It is important and wise and uplifting.

Thank you, Lynn, for sharing with us today!!

With all the birthdays that have happened of late, I began thanking about what I like to call, the timeline of a birthday.  It begins when you are a child and can understand what the word ‘birthday’ means to you.  Not so much the gaining of another year, but the celebration of cake, presents and friends.  This continues to build, in story-like style, until it reaches a climax…usually with the gift of something big (like a car or huge blowout party–vacation style).  Let me say that I HAVE had some parties in my time but never to this degree–for which I elaborately mourned over at the time…however, in retrospect, am extremely grateful for what I did have. Perhaps age is a great teacher…or perhaps our perspective changes as we age…or perhaps it’s both.

However, I found that with the passage of a ‘milestone birthday’ my birthday perspective began to radically change.  I found that not only was my list of desires becoming  more practical in nature, my birthday was beginning to mark some physical changes as well.  Changes that I might add were not particularly what I would call desirable in nature.  Of course getting married and having children could factor into some of this; but, I could not deny that birthday’s were an irreversible part of this whole process.  Like a book’s decline into resolution and ending, I had found that I too, had finally reached that climax, and passed it (although just barely;) as to anyone you ask I am still 29 and holding)

It was with the approach of my father’s birthday, which is today Happy Birthday Dad!, that a chord was struck within me as to my current view of the ‘birthday timeline’.  As I observe birthdays of all ages I began to see that within each, a story was being written, like a painting across the Sistine Chapel, our own life is being poured out in vibrant and sometimes violent color and brush strokes. Each day, each hour, woven into a tapestry along with the other lives we touch.  It occurs to me that perhaps it is the process, more than the destination, or in my case the desperate cling to that ‘magic year’. The one which it appeared to me that all was perfect; or, that like in the days of Columbus, any forward movement would sail me right off the end of the world.  When I look at my dad, or anyone who is older than me, I see life poured out for something and in pursuit of something, not a vain or empty effort.  I see lessons learned, experiences made, and relationships formed.  I see a road of possibility and promise.  I see that there is life to those years not just years in that life!  Perhaps that is the greatest gift of all, God’s gift to us, living and experiencing.  Not that our destination is not of utmost importance as well; but, that He wanted all those little experiences for us along the way.

So, I guess all these birthdays around me have taught me something.  Don’t get me wrong, as I am still 29 and holding.  But perhaps I won’t hold as tightly as I don’t want to miss a minute of this beautiful, wonderful gift given to each one of us….LIFE and living it every day!

Happy Birthday Dad, thanks for sharing your life with me. I love you!

Thank you, Lynn, for sharing this with us and we hope your dad has a terrific birthday, today.  Happy Birthday, Roy!

Many blessings to each of you today!  Dee