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.

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

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.

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

However . . . do not be dismayed.  The judges expect to have the winners’ post up and ready for your oohs and aahs by next week – not promising which day yet – but next week.  So, keep checking.

In the meantime, practice patience and remember why it is we all gather around each others blogs.  We do so to find and make connections; to learn how to live, laugh and love better; to see life in a new and better way; to come to greater understandings of each other.

In my Friday blog, I talked about my “big garden of friends” that I have gathered through blogging and the internet.  It’s been inspirational to me!  You all have lifted me up many times when I was really, really down!  And, you’ve shared the fun times and even joyous times with me.

Before this blog gets to maudlin, let me leave you with some fun thoughts on grandparents.  Some of you are grandparents, some of you aren’t, but you’ve had grandparents and hopefully one day will be one yourself.  Regardless, these are sweet and funny.  Till next time!  Dee

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My young grandson called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday.
He asked me how old I was, and I told him, “62.” He was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, “Did you start at 1?”

********************************************************************
After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old
slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she
heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin.
At last she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings.
As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice, “Who was THAT?”

*******************************************************************
A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood was like: “We used to skate outside on a pond.I had a swing made from a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods.
The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this in. At last she said, “I sure wish I’d gotten to know you sooner!”

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

My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, “Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?”
I mentally polished my halo while I asked, No, how are we alike?”
You’re both old,” he replied.

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

A little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather’s word processor. She told him she was writing a story.
“What’s it about?” he asked.
I don’t know,” she replied. “I can’t read.”

*********************************************************************
I didn’t know if my granddaughter had learned her colors yet, so I decided to test her. I would point out something
and ask what color it was. She would tell me, and always she was correct. But it was fun for me, so I continued.
At last she headed for the door, saying sagely, Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these yourself!”

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

When my grandson Billy and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from
attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, “It’s no use, Grandpa.
The mosquitoes are coming after us with flashlights.”

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

When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, “I’m not sure, “Look in your underwear, Grandma,” he advised.
“Mine says I’m four to six.”

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

Children’s Logic: “Give me a sentence about a public servant,” said a teacher.
The small boy wrote: “The fireman came down the ladder pregnant.”
The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. “Don’t you know what pregnant means?” she asked.
Sure,” said the young boy confidently. “It means carrying a child.”

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

A nursery school teacher was delivering a station wagon full of kids home one day when a fire truck zoomed past.
Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog’s duties.
They use him to keep crowds back,” said one youngster.
“No, said another, “he’s just for good luck.”
A third child brought the argument to a close. “They use the dogs”, she said firmly, “to find the fire hydrant.”

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.
_________________________________________________________________

Do you have your photo contest photos out and ready to email to me for the Finding Direction Summer 2010 Photo Contest?  The deadline is this coming Sunday, and while a lot of entries have been received, there’s still room for a few more.

The contest judges are clamoring to get their hands – eyes – on the entries so that they can ooh and ahh their way to handing out awards to the contest winners.  There will be an overall winner, for sure, but if you’ve been around Finding Direction very long, you know that lots of entrants are winners in the various categories.

Speaking of eyes . . . I now have to have cataract surgery on both of mine.  The first surgery – on my left eye – is going to be Thursday, with the right eye to follow one day next week.

I’ve had cataracts for several years that have been worsening all the time.  But, up until now, they only affected my night vision.  I’ve not been able to see to drive at night for quite a long time.

Now, they have clouded up both my lenses so much that my vision can no longer be corrected to 20/20.  In fact, I’m on the edge of not having sufficient vision to legally drive.  I’ve realized the past two or three months that my vision was not very good, but was hoping I just needed a new prescription.  However, when I saw the eye doctor yesterday morning, I found out it was the cataracts blurring and darkening my vision.

So . . . Thursday morning I’m having surgery on my left eye – that has the poorer vision, and then next week will have the right one done – that has the worse cataracts.

Afterward, I should be able to see much better so I’ll really know what’s going on in the world, which may not be to my benefit, ya know?!  Sometimes, I think it’s better to look at the world through rose colored glasses, which I may do if I decide to have my new prescription for glasses that I’ll need following surgery tinted pink.  Right now I wear glasses with gray tint at the top and pink tint at the bottom on each lens.  It’s very flattering to the eyes and reduces glare a bit.

That’s it for now.  I must go get things in order around here so I’ll be ready to lay low a day or so later in the week.

Y’all be GOOD today and stay out of trouble, ya hear?!  Cheers!  And God Bless Us Every One!!  Dee