But then, my mom never has had the creative turn of mind I do.  And, actually, the only resemblance I see is of the right side of the house with the attached single car garage at the back right turned at a 90% angle, facing the front.  Even that resemblance is slight because our house was white stucco and our double garage stood alone a bit beyond the small bedroom that was in the 90% angular turn.

We had an old windmill like the painting, although by the time we moved there in 1954 when I was nine, there had long been indoor plumbing and heating in the house.  My grandparents were among the first of their neighbors to put in electricity after beginning the South Plains Electric Coop in Lubbock that ran power lines out to the Abernathy house in the fall of 1937.

We did not have endless meadows filled with wildflowers sprawled beyond our yard full of day lilies and crepe myrtles like the painting either.  Or hazy blue mountains in the distance.  Our yard had tall Chinese elms standing guard around the perimeter – windbreaks they call them out there where the wind always blows.  Two massive cedars reigned outside the windows on the left side – the west side – of the house.  The bigger one scratched against my bedroom window at night, scaring me.  But, I left  the high window open, anyway, to listen to the sounds of the night.  The deep green cedars did look like the ones in my painting.  They are just placed on the wrong side of the house.  But, that is of minor detail to me.  I think what my painting most brings to my thoughts are memories; not precise recollection – memories.

My earliest memories of my grandparents’ house, before it was ours, are of early morning smells and sounds.  Coffee percolating.  Bacon frying.  My grandma’s soft voice and my uncle Oliver’s, mingled with the deep voice of my granddad talking with my mom and dad.  I cannot even recall where we all slept – and there were six in our family alone.  But, I do remember watching them all through the glass paned French doors that were closed between the living room and dining room beyond, with the small kitchen behind that, even.

An old upright piano stood in the living room to the left of the doors where I would later spend many hours practicing, hating every moment of it until it was too late to turn any latent talent into playing much more than simple arrangements for pleasure.  I deferred becoming accomplished to my sister, with her pianist’s hands and discipline.

When I look at my painting – and I do many times a day, as it hangs on the sea glass colored wall next to our bed – I see Texas in its glory.  I see times past when I was raised so naively innocent that I did not learn of some of the fundamental elements for really living until I was well into my thirties.  Innocence lost can be a sad state to live in, but then again it can be cherished for allowing diversity and depth to increase.  I am a better woman for having lived both lives.

My painting most reminds me of home.  It reminds me that I grew up in a good home, a solid home, a place where all that was evil lay somewhere else.  I keep those memories close to my heart, for I want my home now to be a safe haven and harbor to all shattered souls who would seek shelter herein.  I have been one of them, and am no more.  I am, and I want all who come here to be, at home.

A Facebook friend posted this quote this morning and I thought it was very good.  I do not know the author, so cannot attribute it to anyone.  If any of you know, let me know and I will do so.

I don’t know about you, but I have to say for myself that I must have been a slow learner and/or late in my maturation because it took me a very long time in some ways to achieve the steps listed above to wisdom.  And I’m still having problems with the last one – being able to forgive myself.  I’m one who tends to blame myself for nearly everything sometimes.  Do you ever do that?

I think that the entire quote with its truths is only made real with the inclusion of God and Jesus Christ in the equations.  For, without God’s grace for us and Christ’s deep love and sacrifice, we not only would not, but could not forgive anyone else, much less ourselves.  We are imperfect by nature since the fall of man in Eden to temptation and sin.

Thanks be to God and Christ we have hope, faith, grace and most of all love to lift us up and to make us wise.  Then we must share God’s wisdom He has infused within us with everyone whose lives we touch, beginning here and now with each other.

Those are my thoughts for this first, hot day of fall.

Peace and harmony to each of you today!  God Bless!

Dee

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

May proved to be a completely unproductive month for sailing and now June loomed on the horizon.   I was back home from a trip, but days for sailing were rapidly dwindling away what with a convention planned, a second Texas trip, vacation.  The weather continued to be uncooperative, too.  Tom watched the oil spill coverage diligently, as well as the weather, which was now showing an impending first hurricane.  His spirits were glum, to say the least.

But, then he got a break.  Two days on a June weekend in between other activities, hurricanes and bad weather magically appeared.  He was excited.  I started to say thrilled, but somehow I hadn’t seen that emotion in him in quite some time, maybe even a sailing season or so ago.

Tom lined up his helpers, hauled the boat to the harbor behind his big SUV, got his boat in the water, get the mast up, and all that done before the first “teeny, tiny” problem arose.  The little outboard motor that he had just filled with gasoline before leaving home wouldn’t start.  It was out of gas.  It had all leaked out somewhere along the way adding to the gunk in the water or on the land going down to the water already generated by the oil spill, unfortunately.

He had to have someone tow him in his boat around the piers to his boat slip.  (Which we now had been paying for month by month for nearly a year with no boat use.)

That was disgrace enough, but the problem appeared to be simple and easily repairable.  (Note the words “appeared to be” closely.)  A screw seemed to have fallen out, or been jolted out, of the motor, causing all of the gasoline to leak out.  He and his best friend, Ron, went nearby to Biloxi to a boat store, but they did not have said screw in stock, nor did they recognize it’s kind and shape.  But, not to worry.  Tom had the boat motor owner’s manual and quickly found the parts he needed.  He ordered two sets of two different screws, bolts, do-hickys . . . you know -  one cannot be too sure in such a spot and must take all precautions against not having all needed parts when time is of the essence.  And the order was only slightly more than $50 bucks (albeit only $5 boat dollars).

I just about had a heart attack upon seeing the bill when the order arrived.  Four lousy little pieces of metal and they cost MORE than $50 bucks?!

But, what’s a husband’s happiness to be compared to, you know?  Besides, he had greater problems to deal with.  The exhausting heat and humidity caused him to stay in the SUV with the A/C going full blast about half of each day of the weekend, and that added up considerably, as well as concerning me greatly about his health.  Then, he just did not have the strength alone to get the second boom up on the boat from which one of the sails is rigged.  So, he had to find more help for that a second day in a row.

The next weekend, motor parts in hand, he got another break in the weather and wandered back down to the harbor.  I never did get the whole picture on the next part of the deal, but either the screws weren’t needed at all (after the $50+ expense, plus whole extra set), or else when replaced didn’t stop the gasoline leak.  Plan B developed, in which the motor was to be unlocked from the metal cross beam to which the lock was attached, the motor lifted, taken out of the water, driven home and taken to a boat repair shop, one being conveniently located close to home.

Tom has four sets of keys to the boat, each set consisting of about 10 or 12 keys on four rings.  He had two sets with him at the boat, but none fit the lock on the motor that was locked to the cross beam on the back of the boat.  So, what did he do?

He called me up, of course, and said, “Dee . . . what did you do with my extra two sets of keys to my boat?”

A roar of dead silence ensued while he revised his question.

He didn’t even know where the sets of keys were, much less where THE key was to THE lock on THE boat, etc, etc.

He never did find THE key.  So, Plan B-2 developed in which he would borrow a friend’s specialty hacksaw to saw off the cross beam to get to the lock to get the motor off of the boat.  All he had to do was buy a new blade for said saw.

He did, and even got the motor off without too much trouble, just with more help.  Got the motor fixed, too.  After refurbishing the entire carburetor on the thing.  (Chi-ching, chi-ching – don’t ask – I’m incapable of repeating the cost, boat dollars or not.  And I haven’t even mentioned the newly painted, “much needed” “bottom job” on the boat that he had planned to do himself, naturally, in the spring, but which had to be done professionally after he went in the hospital for heart surgery.)

Meanwhile, we were in and out of town and sailing time was zipping on past, unrelenting.  So were the effects of the oil spill in the gulf.  Oil and tar balls were washing up everywhere.  The clock rolled around to the last day of June, the harbor closed, with booms blocking all entrances or egresses, and Tom realized that as soon as he got the motor back on the boat, he was going to have to take the boat out of the water, again, still unsailed for the season.

He clumped over to the harbor master’s office and gave up the slip.  He called his worthy friends who stood by him like real sailing men do and came to help him get the boat out of the water.  It was a dreadful day.  And it wasn’t even over.

The final next to final twist occurring that horrendous day was that he had a flat tire on his boat trailer on the way home at about the same time he realized his fancy cell phone was totally dead because he’d left it in his sailing shorts and it had gotten submerged in salt water while trying to get the boat on the trailer.  They were having trouble with it, you see.  (Yeah, tell me about it.)  He luckily was close to a gas station and borrowed a stranger lady’s phone to call me, not to let me know he was okay or what time he was coming on home, but to ask me to call Ron to come over and help him, if he could.  Ron could, and did.

Turns out the tire was not just flat, it was stripped.  So, now add a new trailer tire to the new doors (some with three, some with two coats of varnish), new bottom job, new lock, new keys, new cross beam, newly refurbished carburetor on the motor on the boat on the trailer that was doing all of its travel over land, not the over the windblown waves of the oily mess in the gulf of Mexico.

It still took a while for him to make it home.  Longer than I would have thought, even with the flat tire, and of course, I assumed the worst.  Which happened.  After he got the flat fixed and was on his way, a state trooper pulled him over to see his registration and insurance papers.  While I faithfully keep our current insurance papers in both vehicles, Tom could not, for the life of him, find the latest, up to date card in his vehicle.  I can only suppose that the officer saw how frazzled Tom was, because he let him go, telling him to find the card and make sure he kept it close.

The boat is now home sitting in the driveway in the way, rather than on the grass.  It doesn’t even have a tarp on it at the moment.  Tom keeps trying to think of someway to get that boat in some clear water where he can have fun sailing and relaxing, leaving the cares of the world behind.  He’s plottin’ and plannin’, but I see no hope, myself, nor do I see that he still has that will to keep torturing himself like this.

Yet . . . he thinks he’s come up with a solution – of sorts.  When I heard his plan, I came up with a solution of my own.  So, while this may be the conclusion to one chapter of his boat life, next time I’ll share with you the Epilogue.  At least for now.  Till next time.

Cheers! Dee

Can any of you identify?

So . . . I’ve . . . been . . . stressed.

But, at the same time I’ve been reminded this week by others (thanks, Heather, for reminding me that dial-up internet on a rickity laptop is better than none at all!), in some cases, to be mindful of the little things in life that make our lives better.  I need to be “shook up” sometimes to appreciate all I have.  Me – the one who just wrote about “The Girl in the Woods” last time (this past Monday, that now seems eons ago) to remind us all to look around and really observe what we see.

I want to share with you a couple of photos we have of some beautiful birds who live here in Mississippi.  They are Mississippi Swallow-tail Kites, and Tom saw one flying above him on the way home from work one afternoon.

Isn’t this the most beautiful, graceful bird?

Here’s another one soaring above in the heavens.  Would that I could be such a bird in flight!

My spirit and my soul DO fly high above into the heavens when I remember my God, my creator . . . and I am refreshed and replinished in heart and mind.

Thank you, Father, for such beautiful little things in life that are not so little after all when we set our hearts toward heaven and toward You.  Help us to always have hearts of gratitude for the good you give us in such abundance, even in the little things around us, if we will but look and truly let our eyes SEE.

Give us hearts of compassion to always cast our look and Your love upon all we meet and know.  Give us hearts of forgiveness toward all others as You have forgiven us.  Forgive us when we do wrong, or fail to do good in Your name.  Help us to DO good in Your name at every opportunity; to always have a smile on our face; to always look into others’ eyes straightforwardly to smile at their souls.

We ask all of these things, and thank You for all of these things through Jesus Christ, our Beloved Savior and Your Son, in His Name.  Amen

She was 19 years old and married to a small thin man in his late 30s or early 40s who looked to be twice his age and was crippled up in his left arm from a working accident some years before.  Thus, he was disabled and unable to work any more, at all, although the work he’d done before was just as a laborer.

She had four little girls of her own, although she was just a girl herself.

They were destitute.  They lived in a small shack consisting of three room, with no bathroom, far off the nearest paved road among the tall, matchstick pines.  Being summer, it was swelteringly hot and humid, but they had no air conditioning, of course.  Nor did they have much furniture.  In fact, other than in the kitchen, I recall none.  The three little girls and baby all slept on bare mattresses reeking with the strong odor of urine.  They may have had diapers for the youngest, but the nearest place to do laundry was in town, and that cost money they didn’t have.  Neither did we see any clothes, anywhere.

Their only transportation was an old dilapidated pickup, and it was not there when we arrived.  The doors were wide open, so we went up the flimsy back steps to the kitchen and went in to look around.  We saw a small table with bowls on them, a couple of chairs and some cheap bent spoons.  The small refrigerator’s door did not shut well and it was full of big ants, but very little else.  Ants crawled all across the tiny kitchen, including on the counter, where we found the remains of their pitiful lunch.  Water gravy and water Koolaid, with a bit of sugar in it.  There were no signs of anything else to eat.

We had wanted to see them to visit, but instead we just left the big boxes of food, produce, milk and staples, for them to have when they got home.  We left some small clean clothes, too, for the girls, and took note of what else they needed.  It was a long list, because they needed everything, beginning with a habitable place to live.

We were not only saddened, but sickened at what we saw.  The wretchedness of the place; the poverty.  But, for the moment we had done all we knew to do.

We found out later that the reason they were not “home” was because all of them had driven to nearby Lufkin to the welfare department to try to receive a bit more financial help then what he was getting.  The girl told us that what we saw in their shack was the very last of the food that they had.  The water gravy and Koolaid.  They had nothing else.

When they returned home, completely dejected and hungry, they were overjoyed to find the food we brought.

My friend, a young Christian mother of four, herself, in her 30s, and I – just a married college student, myself, with a little one, David, who was two years old, had driven back into town by then.  I pondered what I had seen and experiences.  I deeply identified with this young girl, as I was expecting a baby soon, and would have two little ones at 21.

We lived in student housing in a small two bedroom apartment that was $67 a month, which we could not afford, either, but we managed the the four married couples’ buildings around our square and that paid our rent.  My husband went to school full time and worked all kinds of odd jobs at night to help with bills, too.  One job, sitting in a chicken house where the incubators were all night long to keep the eggs from burning, paid 33 cents an hour.  It was a miserable job, but we needed the money.

Yet, when I compared my life to hers, and she was a brand new Christian, I felt deeply blessed.

We did not leave them as we found them.  Charlotte, my friend, went back repeatedly to help them and even got the girl a decent paying job in town soon after.  Charlotte made sure she was able to come worship with us and bring her little daughters.  The girl dressed them up as best she could with the hand-me-downs and they looked shiny and sweet.

They are able to move into town and the church helped them greatly.  Their lives improved very much due to the love and care and benevolence of the compassionate Christian community there in Nacogoches.  It was inspiring to me to see true Christianity in action – Jesus love – and the impressions of that girl’s life have stayed with me until now.

This did not happen during the deep Depression of the 1930s.  This happened in 1966, and happens still today in many places all around us here in America, if only we will take the time to really open our eyes and see as Jesus would have us see.

My daughter, who lives in an a far suburb of Dallas told me a few years ago that she did not know any poor people.  (Although she lives out in the country and has trailer homes on both sides of their property.)  I was stunned.  I told her she would find them all around her, even there, if she would just look.  She took my advice, and did.  Since then, she has been involved in ministry with her congregation of Christians and on several mission trips outside this country, even.  We financially supported her in doing those things and have supported her morally and in every way we could to encourage her in her work.

Tom and I live in a very poor area of the south here in Mississippi where people such as the girl in the woods live, as well.  May I ever seek out those I can help in some way – as God’s child – a Christian – and not forget they are all around me too.  To get to our house in the woods, we drive by dozens and dozens of run down trailers and trailer parks that look like junk yards.  They are here.

I hope you will be encouraged today to look more closely around where you live to find someone you can help – in Christ’s name – to show them the love of God and Christ even in their lives!

Many blessings to each of you today.  Dee

Every January I take stock of my life a little differently than most people do, who make resolutions.  I pick out a word for the year by which I want to define my life.

This year’s word is “Calmness” and/or “Serenity.”  As in the Serenity Prayer (see below).  Most of us know the first few lines as AA’s motto, but I doubt that many of you know (1) that Reinhold Neibuhr wrote it, or (2) that there are more lines to the prayer.  Very significant lines, I think.

We all have times of turbulence and turmoil in our lives, and my life is no different.  The past six months of my life have been especially stressful and demanding.  There have been moments when I have had no clue as to what to say or do next and have completely let myself fall apart, I’m afraid.

I’ve determined in my heart to try to remain much more calm and serene this year in the face of all struggles, anger of others, and strife.  I seek wisdom from our Father in all things and pray that He does grant me serenity.  I want to speak in a softer voice, using self-control and patience to bring assurance to all with whom I speak.

Please pray with me that God will help me in these things.  Maybe you can (will, I hope) give me some suggestions about how to carry out this “purpose” in my life.  (Like just talking with y’all, right?!  All of you calm, totally “together” friends, who would never dream of saying anything distressing to me – right?!)

As for you – what word would you most like to have as your guiding force for this year?  And why?  Please share with me today so that I will not feel alone in being the only one who needs to work on such things in my life.

I leave you with the Serenity Prayer, in full:

The Serenity Prayer
	God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him Forever in the next. Amen. –Reinhold Niebuhr In loving memory of Fr Bertram Griffin — 1932-2000 Requiescat in Pace
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths. Proverbs 3, 5-6

These shortening days gliding slowly into fall when the shadows lengthen no longer bring so much deep sorrow and grief to Tom and me as we think of his beautiful daughter Kim and my loving dad, but as the years have gone by bring more lovely reflections and remembrances.

I’ve written here each September since I began blogging about both  Kim and my dad.  The dates of their deaths are within 3 days of each other – the 14th and the 17th – although now my dad’s been gone 13 years (today) and Kim, seven, on Monday.  So it is that the memories are intertwined.

I will not recount their deaths again here, but ask you to take a bit of time to share their lives with us by reading the posts w/photos I’ve written before that tell you and show you who they were and how brightly their spirits shone in our lives.

[See posts w/photos here (2005), here (2006 - this is more a meditation on life and death, w/links to some other posts about my dad here - my 2nd place writers' contest winner - and here - my 1st place writers' contest winner last summer ) and here (2008).  I also refer you to two more meditations after I'd been in the Durango, Colorado ICU for four days while on vacation here and here.]

I realize that’s a lot of reading and some of you have read them before, but, if you will be so kind, please look at the photos and read through the ones you’ve forgotten or have never read.  I hope they will calm you and give you peace, as they give me as I read them.

This year – I leave you with two remembrances that bring us joy.  First, here is our latest photo of Hayley, now 11 1/2, who is the best and dearest of what Kim left behind as she grows and matures and begins to look uncannily like her mother.

The second comes from one of the three dresser drawers in my mom’s bedroom Mom’s left  filled with my dad’s things – just as they were 13 years ago.  Mom and I spent an entire morning looking through the drawers when I was there and laughed and laughed, remembering his quirky ways.

He was an engineer with an engineer’s precise mind and view of the world.  Everything he ever touched, I think, he labeled.  He also, apparently, unbeknownst to me until that morning,  never threw away a single key he ever owned in the 73 years of his life.

I wanted to – and will one day when I have the time – take them all out of the two drawers they fill and count them.  I’m sure his collection must be near 300.  From very teeny, tiny keys to old computer locking keys to every key to every car he ever owned to . . . on and on.  Most were on rings and many of the rings had labels attached to them in his meticulous engineer’s handwriting.

There was another similar to this one, but this one was the best and one day Tom and I plan on having a shadow box or key hanger filled with them here in our home.  See what you think.  Isn’t this about the funniest thing you’ve ever seen?  I’m telling ya!

May God grant us each grace and peace and many joyous memories as we think of those we love who have gone on before us.

In Jesus Name,  Dee

Thus, the photos/stories will have to wait and thus I am quite aggravated!

So . . . here are some words of wisdom by various authors (some anonymous and/or unknown), instead, to keep us focused on the lighter side of life.  I thank God for my sense of humor as much as any other gift He has given me – don’t you?!  Humor serves to relieve tension, ease disagreements and give us better health.

Enjoy!

WORDS OF WISDOM

1) “When I die, I want to die like my grandfather-who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.”
–Author Unknown

2) Advice for the day: If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle:  “Take two aspirin” and “Keep away from children.”
–Author Unknown

3) “Oh, you hate your job? Why didn’t you say so? There’s a support group for that. It’s called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.”
–Drew Carey

4) “The problem with the designated driver program, it’s not a desirable job, but if you ever get sucked into doing it, have fun with it. At the end of the night, drop them off at the wrong house.”
–Jeff Foxworthy

5) “If a woman has to choose between catching a fly ball and saving an infant’s life, she will choose to save the infant’s life without even considering if there is a man on base.”
–Dave Barry

6) “Relationships are hard. It’s like a full time job, and we should treat it like one. If your boyfriend or girlfriend wants to leave you, they should give you two weeks’ notice.  There should be severance pay, the day before they leave you, they should have to find you a temp.”
–Bob Ettinger

7) “My Mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in the lake and threw her off the boat. I said, ‘Mom, they weren’t trying to teach you how to swim.’”
–Paula Poundstone
“A study in the Washington Post says that women have better verbal skills than men. I just want to say to the authors of that study, ‘Duh.’”
–Conan O’Brien

9) “Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant?? I’m halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my God…. I could be eating a slow learner.”
–Lynda Montgomery

10) “I think that’s how Chicago got started. Bunch of people in New York said, ‘Gee, I’m enjoying the crime and the poverty, but it just isn’t cold enough. Let’s go west.’”
–Richard Jeni

11) “If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead.”
–Johnny Carson

12) “Sometimes I think war is God’s way of teaching us geography.”
–Paul Rodriguez

13) “My parents didn’t want to move to Florida, but they turned sixty and that’s the law.”
–Jerry Seinfeld

14) “Remember in elementary school, you were told that in case of fire you have to line up quietly in a single file line from smallest to tallest. What is the logic in that? What, do tall people burn slower?”
–Warren Hutcherson

15) “Bigamy is having one wife/husband too many. Monogamy is the same.”
–Oscar Wilde

16) “Suppose you were an idiot … And suppose you were a member of Congress… But I repeat myself.”
–Mark Twain

17) “Our bombs are smarter than the average high school student. At least they can find Afghanistan.”
–A. Whitney Brown

18) “You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, ‘My God, you’re right!  I never would’ve thought of that!’”
–Dave Barry

19) Do you know why they call it “PMS”? Because “Mad Cow Disease” was taken.
–Unknown, presumed deceased

If you don’t have a sense of humor, you probably don’t have any sense
at all.

There are three kinds of men: The ones who learn by reading and the few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence and find out for themselves.
—Will Rogers

Cheers & many blessings to each of you today!  If I can get the needed “training” in Adobe Photoshop, I’ll be back next time with some neat pictures and stories.  Dee

For those of you just joining us, I’ve spent the past couple of posts sharing the story of Tom’s purchase of a small sailboat a year and a half ago and the ensuing expenses of maintaining and upgrading said boat, sometimes to my total dismay at the cost of such.  (See here & here for the details – you don’t want to miss them, believe me.)

I mean, I’m a fairly intelligent woman (and I don’t want to hear any guffaws from you guys about the “woman” part of that phrase) – an attorney, even – but sometimes Tom’s thinking totally defied logic.  (Such as the “men don’t measure” comment and how he could not (apparently) be one bit concerned with costs of such a hobby (sport, relaxation therapy – whatever men call their “toys).

But I finally gained deep insight into his thinking as we were coming into Lowe’s (to buy my new, “extravagant” purchase for myself (yeah, right) of a durable trash can!?!) when he explained the following to me.  It went like this:

Tom says, “You see, Dee . . . I haven’t really spent that much money at all on this marine plywood and the other boat things I’ve gotten.”

Me:  “How do you figure that, pray tell?”

“Because they were ‘Boat Dollars’,” he (patiently & gently) explained (to me, a mere woman).   “Ron (Tom’s best friend) explained to me when he got his boat that one boat dollar is equivalent to 10 dollars, so in “Boat Dollars,” I’ve only spent about $15 dollars, not $150.”

“Now do you understand?!” he said.  “And aren’t you proud of me for being so frugal with my boat dollars?”

Sigh.

I’m sure there are guitar, gun and drum set dollar exchanges, as well, for husbands like Patrick and Greg.  The best I can figure, it’s sort of like exchanging U. S. Dollars for foreign currency.  Except that this currency is all in husbands’ minds for whatever their fancy happens to be.

To be fair, I have to say I know some women who have the same sort of currency system when it comes to clothes, shoes, decorating, arts & crafts, etc.  It’s not all one sided.

Me?  I’m not sure I have such a system in place.  I think I have in the past to some degree with books, music (another big currency system of some husbands, btw) and the like.  But in the more recent past and present, I’m working much harder at (1) keeping Tom from going into debt with his “boat dollars” (ha!) and (2) storing up my currency in heavenly places for my life to come.

We all have currency exchanges, I think, each in our own different way.  Thank God He gives us pleasurable activities on this earth to engage ourselves in, but may we always also keep in mind where we want our lasting treasures to be.

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