To Treat or Not to Treat

This time of year always starts a rash of debates and discussions as to whether a family should participate in Halloween. Some think you’re sending your child out into the demon worshiping world dressed like a princess to take part in a devil worshiping night. That’s a bit extreme to me.

My church sees it as an outreach.
You are asked to bring a canned food item for our food bank to join in the Fall Festival, it isn’t enforced no child is turned away. The community is invited, this means children who have never stepped foot in a church are welcomed in with their parents. We have a safe environment for the children to trick or treat, this is important in the area it’s not the safest in town. We have games with prizes, hot dogs, popcorn, and so much more. All of this for a canned good if you brought one.


My opinion on this is they are having fun pretending to be a cat or a cheerleader or a super hero. My children don’t see it as demon night, they see it as a night of fun they are just giggles and love. We as adults make it into a horror movie.


I’ve never been fond of celebrating the holiday by dressing up and traipsing around the neighborhoods for candy. Then again I just wanted a normal birthday with pretty decorations.
My children love the fun and candy so I celebrate them being children for another year.

Making something out of nothing at all

I have a letter that my grandfather wrote to my grandmother when they were dating. It shows truly how he was. He gave her the facts of life in Yukon Oklahoma. Box lunch auctions and the weather written down to the last detail. I wonder what she read in that letter that made her heart beat faster. She was a lady with money in love with a man who was a farmer. Farming was a good profession back in the day and it was honorable so she wasn’t marring down. They lost the farm when my grand father became ill.


Life was hard but she still loved this stoic and hard man. They made it through the depression leaving my grandfather incapable of letting go of anything it seemed. He had stacks of news papers, jars, and bottles everywhere. This once wealthy woman who lived in the rich part of Oklahoma City was living in a trash bin of a home. She treasured new things and wouldn’t use them. We found boxes of night gowns, robes, and house shoes when she died, never worn. New towels and sheets were neatly kept in the closet.

My grandparents were poor, how poor? They lived in a very run down home, by run down I mean holes in the floor. They had two bedrooms only because the bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom were built on. That’s a hard way to raise seven children. In a two room house. Two died during an influenza outbreak. Some of you might remember that year. It took many lives. I’ve always wondered about one of my aunts that died, I have no idea why she has stayed in my head but she seemed to always be there. I’ve stood at her grave holding my son’s hand, the same age at the time of her death. I thought about how sad it must have been for them.


My grandmother seemed to always be old to me. She showed signs of a hard life with grandpa and her children. Four boys and one girl left after the girls died. One thing that remained was her beauty within, you saw it in her smile, her love, her heart. I loved them all. Dad tells me you could hear her singing as she walked home from town. I wish that I had been given that opportunity.


When we would come for dinner she would have a feast on the table, an amazing feast. As you came in she greeted you with a hug, yes even you would have been welcomed in by her loving arms. The incredible smell tempted you to the table for a quick preview of a taste, you had to be quick because you were about to be scooted outside. Her pickles were famous in the family. The pickled beets were warm and so good I could eat the whole bowl, green beans, corn, and potatoes all from grandpa’s garden. Grandpa was a farmer so he knew how to grow things in the rocky soil. My grandmother, who never seemed to have much in the way of money, could cook a feast fit for a king. Her laughter, her smile, and love were the best part of the visit.


I wonder how far we’ve come from then and is it an advancement?

My grandmother loved a man who wrote of practical things, she lived in a humble home, she could cook a feast, she could find love for everyone that came to her door, a woman in my time might have walked away from such a hard life, become bitter and angry. Not my grandmother, not even after the strokes took her ability to walk without a walker, not even with her slurred speech, did she give a bitter word.


Her love and laughter will always remain with me, she seemed to make love out of nothing at all.

Fireflies in the Garden by: Robert Frost

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,

And here on earth come emulating flies,

That though they never equal stars in size,

(And they were never really stars at heart)

Achieve at times a very star-like start.

Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

When I was a child I loved chasing fireflies at Grandpa’s. We’d catch them in the many glass jars that he always had about, always afraid of a depression again I suppose. I’d find them near Grandma’s lilac bush.My Dad has one growing from her’s in his yard. I want one someday in my yard. I’d capture the little glowing wonders only to let them go in the house. I always wondered if they made Grandma giggle and Grandpa grumble. When they turned out the light for the night.

A subliminal message from Miss Littles

Wednesday night I was listening to the last Sunday’s sermon on the way home. We needed to be sure that the CD was ok. As I listened to the sermon here is what took place.

"Most of us are busier than we want to be. You feel like your kids schedules are out of control"
I agreed.
My son spoke "Yes thank you"
"We have within in us an"
"I want a puppy"
Giggles
"We want to please our parents"
"I want a puppy"
Giggles
'I spent hours and hours and hours'
"I want a puppy"
Shhhhhh
"I loved the thought of mattering"
"I want a puppy"
Giggles
"This sets me apart this helps me to matter."
"I want a puppy"
Giggles
"One of the reasons I spend so much time preparing sermons"
"I want a puppy"

Now by this time I’m in full laughter.

I think she wants a puppy.

It’s a very good sermon I’ve listened to it twice after, I didn’t hear "I want a puppy" not once on this CD

Saw the movie

Ok,
I wanted to see the movie. I’ll admit it I wanted to know what all the hubbub was about. Now with that I know that most of the posse reading this won’t nor would ever want to see it. Incase you were thinking of watching it I can save you the long anguishing time. I had a fun day with a friend who also wanted to see the movie. We shopped, lunched then movie time.


This movie is the longest movie ever. Not because of the time because it has no real dialogue.
The scenery is beautiful. I wanted to go camping on that mountain.
The movie was bad really bad. I’ve seen bad movies but this one was one of the worst ever. How on earth it won awards I have no idea. You never really get the chance to care about the two men. I felt for the wives. Never the men.
Brokeback Mountain gets nothing from me.

What can we do?

Andreia asked a question and I agree that it’s a very important one.

I wonder what we can as mothers do to help our sons understand how important a woman's brain is in selecting companions/spouses? I will continue to work hard to convince my daughters that is one of their most important assets.

I will change this up a bit for you fathers.

What can you do to teach your sons or daughters?

My son isn’t ready for girls yet. I know because he tells me he isn’t. I’m glad because he’s on the edge of being a teenager. I know the day will come so I’m enjoying the phone silence for now.


My daughter is six thinking she’s sixteen she has an eye for the boys. I know that it will change soon, and boys will be icky.

So how do we teach our children to make better choices in dating?

Truth be told no one could get tell me who I could and couldn’t date. I had to make those mistakes.


I dated a bit, not an astronomical amount in my opinion, I learned how I wanted to be treated. I don’t want my children to meet a person and fall in love in high school. I know it works for some, I’ve seen it. I want them to live on their own for a while, independence is important. You have to learn responsibility and you need to know how to be with yourself.


A young woman needs to know that she can make it on her own, she needs to know that she has options, it’s for her own protection. I spoken with women who said I can’t get out. Cheating husbands and abuse. Teach them to make good choices and if things go badly how to leave.


A young man needs to be away from his mother’s apron and he needs to do things without a replacement.


How do we teach them to think and stand up for who they are?

How do we give them a sense of self?

We allow it before they leave us. From birth to the time they leave we encourage them. Not brag where it isn’t earned. We allow them to take steps of independence. I’m not very good at this I want to always protect my children letting them go on mission trips and camp without me has been a difficult journey.


We hold on to prayer.

We pray that our children make the right choices in relationships.

We raise our children in God’s hands.

I believe that most women want smart and capable man.

On the flip side of the post I believe that most men want smart and capable women, women want men who are smart, resourceful, and respectful.

I will admit I look at the outside package first. Come on we all do men and women. How many times have you heard "Look , that ugly person is for me."? Anyone one? Nope didn’t think so. They always have something to spark us. The way they carry themselves, how they smile, laughter, it’s always something.

I think that it’s so cool that some of you look at your wives and wonder why they chose you. Doug it’s clear to see that you are love struck. Guess what? She’s love struck also. She loves your heart. She loves the way that you love her. You are smart, funny, and you love God. Those are the things we look for in our men.


As Kansas Bob said,
I think that mutual respect is at the heart of successful connections/relationships - we would all do well to examine our heart motives when we date/marry and look for a partner that we really like and respect at a heart level


Codepoke is right understanding each other is key.


If every time you say something the other person looks as if you have a mouse on your head, it simply will not work. If you need to be alone from time to time they need to respect that. We all have moods good, bad, and ugly you have to understand it.


I am afraid of spiders. I have a reason, a good one, and you have to understand that. We all have things from our past that shape who we are. I was watching a comedian one night he told a story about how women can say things that will set a man off, here it is "You’re stupid like your father"I’ve said something like this under my breath. I’ll admit it. He is like his parents at times. We all have parental traits. We are all to some degree like those who raised us. Thank goodness my parents were great. ;-}


Back to the quest for a man.


The night I met my husband I wasn’t looking. I had given up, didn’t want or need one. I wanted God I wanted to know Him and no man was to get in the way of that. Something about him got to me. I couldn’t stop looking at this guy. So I hadn’t given up. I dated him for a while before I asked him to marry me. Yes I asked. He could do things and had a good work ethics. He respected me. He was raised in a church. So he knew how important it was for me to attend on Sundays. (He did ask me to marry him later to make to official and all)


We have to peel the layers back and see the person inside. I don’t think that I have never met anyone and thought they are only what you see. I realize they have more in them. If you choose only from what they are willing to give you might make the wrong choice.


When we first start dating everyone is nice and polished women don’t belch on the first date. Nor do most men. Can you imagine holding the door for her then {{{{{burp!}}}}}No matter who did it, it’s not appropriate for a first date. After time passes you become real, I began to see the man I was loving and realistically speaking I didn’t love it all.


Men and women are different we hold a man to a high standard at times. Perhaps too high. We want to be equal yet we also want to be treated like a lady.


We confuse men don’t we?


Now here it is the way Milly wants to be treated. Stand back!
I want respect. I want you to love me. I will never ask that you understand me. I don’t always understand you. I do want you to see where I’m coming from I will tell you so that you understand, you must do the same so that I understand. I like it when the door is held for me. Thanking me is nice. I want you to think I’m attractive. No matter who you are you need to be attracted to the person you are married to. No woman wants to think her husband feels she’s ugly. I need to be attracted to you.


Men and women without a doubt are different, God created us that way. One thing that’s the same is our basic needs we all want the same things. We want love and respect.

I believe that most men want smart and capable women.

Do you?

It’s so strange to me that women are thought of as the delicate sex. If you take a look at history it doesn’t take long to see that the women worked very hard. A woman in the seventeen hundreds living on a farm would have been up before anyone else the daughters of the home would have joined her in her daily tasks of milking, feeding the live stock, carding wool, spinning, working the garden, preparing three meals a day, churning butter, sewing, cleaning, and so on. Fathers would have taught the sons to read, hunt, plow, and plant.

Weaker sex I think not.


Women are everywhere in the world doing all kinds of jobs and for some odd reason we are shocked when women can do things that are considered manly.

The Thinkligs had a question about a rod on a car and posed it to the men. I knew the answer to the question. Codepoke explained what happens when you throw a rod. He did a fine job of explaining it I should add. I knew some of what happens. I use to work on my own car and my sister’s car when I could. I asked questions and spent as much time as I could helping the person who was working on my car so I could learn.


When I live with Di I was seeing a man who flirted with her. After having enough of watching the guys drool all over my Barbie looking roommate (well she didn’t have the same body but you get the point) I asked what she had that I didn’t. (That was a good way to wham my ego.) He looked at me and said "You’re kidding right?" Look at her" I looked at him thinking "See ya" Here’s how he attempted to redeem himself. "I couldn’t talk to her after, I’d want to leave. With you I’d want to stay and talk" Now this wasn’t exactly the way to my heart but I appreciated the fact that he thought I was smarter then she was and I was also angry that he thought she was dumb. She wasn’t, she just played that way for most men. They ate it up. Her room looked like it should have a casket in it at times. Men sent flowers and gifts, men that she hadn’t seen in months out of the blue sent flowers. I would constantly open the door to find some guy looking hopeful that she was home. (Oh and no way would I ever sleep with a man who said that to me)
Living with Di was good for my intellectual ego not for my short girl ego.


What the heck is wrong with you guys?

Do you guys want a woman who can fix things around the house?
I’d rather fix it if I can so that I can spend time relaxing with you.


I do think that some of you want that tall, thin, blond, blue eyed, flirty woman who can’t do much of anything. We call them trophy wives. Will that last?

I’m glad my husband wanted the short, dark haired, brown eyed, sassy woman who can do things. We call that a practical choice.


And so ya know I’d never go for a dumb, incapable man, no matter how he looked.


Milly likes her men smart and hard working.

You get the line I’ll get the pole

Here is something you don’t know about me

I am an Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation Aquatic Education Instructor.

That’s right.

I am.


. . . And so you know it's wabbet season October 1st


What is it that we don’t know about you?

Come on tell us about your hidden talents.

Life lesson number one

This is a how to instruction for those who haven’t figured it out. The ability to do this challenging task seems to go away when you marry and comes back when you divorce. I guess your brain can only hold so much like birthdays, names of children, and anniversaries.

First you take the old tub off, now I know it’s a bit difficult to comprehend at first but the thing holding the tube is a spring and all that you need to do is push it in.

You throw the cardboard tub away. In the trash.

Now this is crucial so listen, you get a fresh roll of paper and place it on the spring holder. Then you carefully put it back. I don’t care where the flap is over or under. I just need to know that when I go in and sit down it’s there.

Important step here, you need to change it when it has one fourth of an inch or less left on the roll.

Take the old roll that still has some left and place it in the cabinet, we will use it. Yes we will.

Thank you and remember practice makes perfect.

Here’s a little something to think about while you’re changing the roll
1930: Northern Tissue is declared splinter-free.

The change in seasons make me want for

I want for time to go back just for a night

I want a cool fall night, I’ll be with my girl friends and we are cruising main. We’ll turn the radio up and sing to Desperado.

We’re looking for you boys.

Our nights usually went like this Tracy and I would start at her house. She had very little parental supervision, Chris LeDoux playing as we did our hair and dressed. We’d hop into her truck and head for town. First stop the car wash ya had to wash the dirt off the truck, then it was cruise time. We’d drive around so that those who missed us washing the truck saw that we were there. Then we parked and the local QT type place where our friends were. You didn’t do much of anything in that small town and I loved just hanging and out talking. I met a nice guy one night, he still remains in my heart. Topeka Kansas is a long way for love. It was a fun time in my life.

College took that away. I remember going to town alone one weekend to find new faces where ours were and those who remained seemed some how out of place.


I long to drive around listening to Bob Seger having nowhere to be.
My husband jokes about the girls and I doing this now "You’ll cruise the Walgreens now" It makes me laugh, it’s true. Two of us when he said that giggled then started a list.

The fall reminds me of bonfires at the lake and at the battle sites. We would bring food and friends, what wasn’t eaten at the end of the night became a weapon for a food fight. Marshmallows can hurt.

Thank You friend

"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him."

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Let's play

I was sitting here about to post on an adventure a friend and I had several years ago when she called to check on me. (freaky) We want to take the kids bowling I have free passes so that makes it better. She and I aren’t able to bowl but we can cheer and jabber on. She had the same kind of surgery so she gave me good sound advice and support. Anywho I reread my little story and realized it wasn’t that interesting. Who wants to read about two women in Dallas almost missing the last flight out and so on?

I decided we need some fun so instead of words and saying we hate to hear we should go for ones we like.



I like vellum-it’s fun to say
Sock Monkey
Really? Are you going there? -Love saying that one to the husband when he’s picking a fight.
Come on join in, the cool kids are doing it
I need to add two more
Don’t eat it. Like when someone yells "Mom I found a bug!" I yell back "Don’t eat it!"
Silly Ba Nilly

Theme Song thing

If you want to join in please do.

1. If you could pick your own theme song, what would it be?

Conversations by Sara Groves

I don't know how to say this,
I don'tknow how to stand,
I don't know where to put my feet, or where to put my hands.
I've got them in my pockets, my fingers are freezing cold, they're wrapped around a ticket stub that's four weeks old, and I don't know how to say this

I think we've figured out this world is bigger than you and I.
We've exhausted our wealth of knowledge and have no
more answers for mankind


We've had every conversation in the world about what is right and what has all gone bad, but have I mentioned to you that this is all I am, this is all that I have
I'm not trying to judge you. That's not my job. I am just a seeker too, in search of God
Somewhere somehow this subject became taboo.
I have no other way to communicateto you.
This is all that I am. This is all that I have


I would like to share with you what makes me complete. I don't claim to have found the Truth, but I know it has found me
the only thing that isn't meaningless to me is Jesus Christ and and way he set me free.
This is all that I have. This is all that I am.


2. Now be honest…if others had to pick a song that described you, what would they choose?
My family did in college it was Girls Just Want To Have Fun (For real)
My husband says it's the theme to S.W.A.T.



3. What song would be/was the first dance at your wedding?
No dancing we were in a CoC church. It was a simple wedding. However we lit the unity candle and stood together to I Never Thought by Dan Hill



4. What song gets stuck in your head most often?
Against The Wind by Bob Seger

5. What song would you want played at your funeral?
Eye on the Sparrow

My post on "Pain Killers"

I haven’t really liked this one much. The side effects are a bit overwhelming at times. Last night I hit the wall with them. For one as I was getting into bed a balloon with Eeyore on it freaked me out for a second. It was a brief moment but still my heart was pounding. Note it was very close to my bed in the dark and is mylar. I looked so different. Once I truly feel asleep I was out.


Now you should know that these little pills also cause vivid dreams as posted below I didn’t give all the details or add every feeling that was there in my dream I felt it all.


I suddenly woke this morning, I knew I had been snoring because my throat was very dry. My stomach was killing me, yet another side affect. I tried to take a drink then go back to sleep. It didn’t work.. I had to move around.


I found myself in the kitchen refilling my water bottle hating being awake. I made my way back to bed. We’ve all had those nights of feeling every thing, you know the way the sheet is messed up at the bottom, the way that the person next to you breaths, every movement seems to be amplified. I resolved myself to being awake so at about 3am something I worked on my blog. I read a few others and was able to settle down a bit by 4 am.


I’m tired and sore today I’ve had some odd dreams and some good ones. I’ve tipped over twice once in the bathroom thank goodness the walls were close and I was sitting down, the other time I was sitting on the bed I tipped sideways so I was fine. Forwards might not have made me laugh. SPLAT!


I’ll not be wanting to remain on this drug for long. It’s addictive, not that anyone would give me more. Here’s a quandary I’ve hit the wall I need something new to do. I need to get out! My husband is in the middle of a project at church and heads there once he takes the kids to school. I’m alone with my dog. She has no real hobby, barking, biting people, sleeping. How do people do this? Back to my quandary for tonight I’m in pain and need a pill. I’m a wreck. The house needs to be cleaned, I can’t do it. Laundry got done today! Yea! I cooked dinner and climbed a step ladder and lifted something heavier than I should have.

The bright spots to my day are my children, and my sister. She sat next to me looked at my sock monkey PJ bottoms and asked how many days I’ve been in them. We both laughed. I’ve been washing them, honest. I take showers, brush my teeth, and put on clean apparel. Deodorant was forgotten today. Now aren’t you glad you didn’t stop by to see me?


I think I need a good cry though. I’ve earned it.
. . . .and from the way I smell right now a shower.
I’m going to take a shower cry and talk to God then take my happy pills and I hope sleep.

How was your day?

A sign seen on a restroom dryer at O'Hare Field in Chicago:
Do not activate with wet hands.
(I haven't taken the pills yet. That is funny. . . right? )

I HAD A DREAM

I was alone, dressed in a red dress, in a large round room the floors were wood and perfect


I was unable to make out the walls, at times they seemed to be covered in heavy chocolate colored drapes and others with shelves of books, all from floor to ceiling.

I stood alone as if I knew, yet confused
As I waited for what was to come

I felt a presence. It frightened me yet calmed me.

I wanted to feel his arms around me I wanted to sink into him to feel his heart beat against my skin

It seemed an eternity for me to wait

Suddenly he was there he wrapped one arm around my waist then took my other hand in his holding my arm out as if to do an exotic dance then he tenderly took my hand to his heart.

I wanted to speak I wanted to ask are we to dance? I could not speak one word
He held me, we stood motionless for so very long. The room seemed to be moving yet we were so very still.


I could feel his eyes yet not see them I could feel his smile yet not see it. I felt the presence of his face yet I saw nothing.


I began to question his existence in my mind was it a dream?
Without warning he turned me grandly away as if he were a ballroom dancer

I stood so far away now yet so near

I waited for him to come to me

He didn’t

I put my hand out for him

He didn’t move

I waited then withdrew my hand

I felt hurt to be so rejected

I crossed my arms and began to cry like a child

He seemed not to care

The anger, pain, and hurt came with my tears


He put his hands in his pockets and looked at me.

A compromise, I thought, I take a step then you take a step


I took a step, he moved not one inch


I stood stunned

I reached for him as I cried harder

He took my hand in his hand

He put his other hand on my tear soaked face

I knew that I had to dance with him

Milly

That's my boy!

I’m the Momma so shut up and listen to the bragging. My son’s grades came in!


Yes! He scored! His grades were great.

He is in high pressure classes, you slip and you’re out.

He tested at an 11th grade level in the second month of school, the test is based on a national average. He’s in seventh grade and about to turn thirteen.

That’s my boy! He loves to read text books and has such a high moral standard. LOTR is out for him because he didn’t care for some of the things he read. I respect that.


My hopes for him is that he can stay on this path of learning and moral standards yet still have friends. It’s difficult for a guy like him to fit in. Church seems to be the only comfortable social setting he can relax at.


NASA here he comes!

Think'n

Miss Shadow

How does God see us?

I was thinking about friends that I have, some I may never see face to face until I’m passing the Heavenly fruit salad. I began thinking about how we might think we look and I wondered if it really matters.

I don’t believe that God sees our faces.

He doesn’t see the scars from a childhood of running into tables. He only sees us on the inside. He only sees our souls. When we all get to Heaven Codepoke won’t ask "Where did that scar on you forehead come from?" It simply won’t be there. We won’t check our hair and look at what we are wearing and wonder if we look good enough. Our beauty will shine from God.

No I don’t think God sees our faces.

Hospital Blessings

Wednesday night my sister was waiting for us to come home from church she helped me get her bedding together and put the children to bed. The two of us sat up and talked until my husband came home, he and I packed for the hospital. At 5:45 am we checked in and began our wait. I was surprised at how quickly they moved me to a room. I was instructed to strip, put on a gown, and wait. I was given something to help with nausea and something to relax me. Relax was the word I thought I was soooo funny my husband kept laughing at me. Not with me. I knew it wasn’t funny I just couldn’t stop laughing at everything I said and thought. The lady who did my IV apparently thought it was Christmas and I was the inquisitive child under the tree. She used a ton of tape and it really hurt.

I was moved to another room. The people who push those things aren’t given lessons, I asked after we almost killed a pedestrian. They asked me several questions at the next station. It was a hallway of us about to go into the OR.


I kept talking to God about how I wanted everything to go and how great I needed this to be and if things went wrong that he would take care of everyone.

He agreed.


Once in the OR I was put on a narrow table then strapped down so that I wouldn’t fall. One of the surgeons stopped in and gave me a quick, it will all go well, and squeezed my hand then rushed out. The other I have known for more than eighteen years I have a huge amount of trust in her, she had permission to do what needed to be done and knew exactly what I wanted. That’s huge that’s important she had to be my advocate. When she came in she told me what was going to happen. She said she would step out then be back in when I was under. I watched as she filled out paperwork then all of a sudden she put the pen down and started talking about the ocean, beaches, drinks with rum in them she smiled as she turned walked over and took my hand firmly and held it she kept talking as the anesthesiologist pushed the stuff in.

When I woke I was in a whole other place. People I didn’t know kept talking to me. Once in a while they said "Breath" Finally a women said when you hear the beep I want you to take a deep breath . I have low blood pressure to begin with and putting me under brought it way down. I explained it to them and was sent to a room. A room in pediatrics, not my choice. The surgical floor was full.


The first nurse wasn’t very nice and I thought my family might take her down hard. Can’t a husband be concerned about his wife? Apparently not in this woman’s eyes. I tried to smooth it over by making jokes. I was also happy to never see her again.


I worked hard at teaching the nurses when I say I’m going to be sick please give me something, I mean it. I also said stuff like my doctor doesn’t want me to throw up so please give me stuff now.


My doctor was a wonderful blessing and gave me great news afterwards, everything looks good. She also took me off the pump so that I had to ask for pain pills and put me on real food. She looked horrified at the liquid diet they had me on. "No wonder you’re sick you need real food." I wanted Olive garden salad, I got hospital roast beef. I wonder if they have stock in jello? I was served it every meal breakfast, lunch, and dinner.


I knew that I was blessed in so many ways but this brought the blessings to light.


Miss Littles and Little Mister came to visit. I was brought an Eeyore balloon he’s my favorite. My daughter told me about the gift shop her eyes lit up as she told me about the Crock flip flops. The girl loves to shoe shop.


My son asked about all the things hooked to me. He surveyed the room and relaxed in front of the television.


I was surprised to hear that Miss Littles had a melt down at bed time and wished that they had called me I might have been able to calm her a bit. My sister stayed awhile for her and spent the rest of the week spoiling her and bringing her to the hospital to visit.


Spoiling was good for both of them, she now sports an OSU cheerleading outfit and has gone to her first football game. Sis needed for one of my kids to like OSU, the other is an OU fan. That’s a big thing in Oklahoma. We cheer for Penn State in this house it’s safer at family gatherings.


I checked in on Thursday and left Saturday evening It’s grand to be home. My blood pressure was up by the time I left.

I am so blessed by family and friends and I felt those prayers.

Thank you.

Thank you

I was looking back at some of the nice things that you folks have written to me this morning because I want to take nice words with me so I’m putting together a journal. I’ll be able to write nurses names, phone calls, such so that I can send thank you notes.

I want to say thank you now and let you know that I will miss reading everyone’s thoughts. Don’t worry I’ll catch up. I’ll also be on pain killers.


Hmmm Milly might need to hold her opinions for a while. ;-}

Our Focus

He sat quietly alone thinking about his betrayal. How could I have done such! His head spinning from the thought of the events about to happen. I did the unthinkable. I . . . he was like a brother to me. He was so loving. Dear God my unforgivable sin I can’t live on. I wish that I had never been born.


When they sat at the table He didn’t care who held the plate or who passed the wine His care was only of those around Him on this the last meal that they would share. Who were those who handed the bread and wine to Him? Is it important? At that moment, that moment of sharing, a remembrance of Him, giving His life for us, fulfilling a prophecy told before He came.

What was important?


How can I deny Him, my friend, my brother, my Lord?


When I began to write this it was to be about Judas and how much his story tugs at my heart. His story planned before he came. It seems so unfair to me. If his story was planned then what of ours? I want to read his story and see a happy ending. It brings me to tears for the pain that he felt. I realize that God knew his heart. He knew that when he was tempted he’d fall prey. I know about falling prey to temptations I do it every day. Brothers turning there backs on Him giving him away with a kiss.

A kiss that would hurt both hearts.


As I sat in church watching a disruption during communion over nothing really I wondered does He feel as if He once again has been sold for nothing. They stand on of the essence of scripture they say as they break what they say they believe. They betray and deny Him when they choose to disrupt that moment.

I wonder how many times we betray Him.


Arguments of should the bread be precut should it be so small should it be a cracker real wine fake wine. Can a woman pass communion?

I sometimes wonder if He wants to yell at our ridiculousness of it all.


We shouldn’t put our focus on who passed the plate or on the kind of wine and bread that we have. Our focus should be one, the empty cross and the love that He gave us.

Heart of Worship

Matt Redman

When the music fades

All is stripped away

And I simply come

Longing just to bringSomething that's of worth

That will bless Your heart

I'll bring You more than a song

For a song in itself

Is not what You have required

You search much deeper within

Through the way things appear

You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship

And it's all about You,

It's all about You, Jesus

I'm sorry, Lord, for the thing I've made it

When it's all about You,It's all about You, Jesus

King of endless worth

No one could express

How much You deserve

Though I'm weak and poor

All I have is Yours

Every single breath

I'll bring You more than a song

For a song in itself

Is not what You have required

You search much deeper within

Through the way things appear

You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship

And it's all about You,

It's all about You, Jesus

I'm sorry, Lord, for the thing I've made it

And it's all about You,

It's all about You, Jesus

I am blessed

Pray

Please pray for the little one who’s daddy thought it was alright to use her to help him shoplift. It was difficult to watch knowing what the kido was about to see.

Define

I was all set to defend my femininity today. It’s taken a beating lately on a couple of sites. I had the women and men can be gentle and still change the starter on a 1967 Ford Mustang contention.

A man seems to me to be more manly when he is on the floor playing Barbie with his little girl then pulling an engin. I’m tired of the questioning of whether Christian men are manly and are the songs tough enough. As I said I was ready to post a picture of myself in a dress and go on about how I sew and stuff, how I’m working on making my daughters room a princess cowgirl room. I was going to say I have about twenty tubes of lip stick and I collect statues of Eeyore. He’s my favorite one.

Then I read Codepoke’s post. I stopped and looked around to find something to do because doing is good. I began cleaning out some boxes that I have yet to unpack. Yes it’s been months but the loss of my desk has hindered me a bit. I found some interesting things that show a some of who I am.

The things in the picture don’t define me, I define me.


I also found two obituaries one a brilliant aunt, she was trapped in her body in a cruel turn of events by ALS her wonderful ability to speak taken away. When she read Shakespeare the entire class sat silently enthraled. The other, my mother’s, she was taken so quickly without warning yet with, because God speaks to us and he spoke to mom and I before it happened. It says she had a unique way of making everyone feel loved and treasured. She did.

I found a book that my grandmother brought back from her many travels Michelangelo’s La Cappella Sistina. I want to see it some day, even in a book it can bring me to tears, in person I know I’d weep.


The people on the other side of the country can’t define who we are they don’t know us they only know a moment when we wish for peace when we talk of power tools. They only know what they perceive she’s a feminist so she must think. . . .


They don’t know that the little girl in yellow is my niece named after me. The other picture is my Miss Littles. The incredible love I have for my family isn’t known by the ones who are so quick to grasp at a word.

God has made Milly who Milly is, what I’ve been through and where I go He is with me and He is with you.

God Blesses us in so many ways.

Be Happy Today

Thursday promises to be a long day. So I just need an inspirational post.

We all face long trying moments in our lives some are harder than others.

We own ours it’s our moment and no one can change that but God.

So on this day I wish for you to find peace and hold fast to those things that get you through the moment.

Questions

Quirky snail by Miss Littles

Do you know who you are?

Do you see yourself as others see you?

Do you like who you are?

Now I’m sure that some are going to say I don’t care how others perceive me I am who I am and that’s that. I still want to answer these questions that I have always been plagued with.

Do I know who I am?

I am a child of God. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am a women. I am a true friend. I am a teacher. I am a student. I am ME.

Do I see myself as others see me?

I see myself as a Christian women. I try to keep an attitude that lets the light within me shine. I fail at times.

Do I like who I am?

Some days I don’t and I know that it’s wrong not to like myself because I am of God. I believe that we all have days when we just aren’t good Christians. We have days when we stumble and fall. I have days when I love me I look at myself and laugh I rejoice in Gods creation of Milly.

May you have those days of rejoicing in who you are quirks and all ;-}

We are formed by His hands

I don’t know where we are before we are here but I do believe we are somewhere.

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." Jeremiah 1:5

My daughter has talked about my mother and how she knew her before she came here how she rocked her. I’d like to think it so and not just overhearing us talk about how Mama loved rocking babies and how Miss Littles likes to be rocked.


I love pottery I have a few pieces one is from Crete it was given to me by my well traveled sister. Two are tourist pieces from New Mexico one I chose, my mom the other
Three are from a local artist two have lizards made of the clay in them the other was a pot that I had to have because it reminded me of my great aunt and her molasses cookies. She was known for them. I believe she had no recipe I wish she had taught me how to make them.


Each piece is different formed in different shapes painted and glazed differently. Imperfections and chips.

I had a conversation of sorts with a friend about who we are and where we are because of what we were. God puts us where we need to be. I don’t believe he ever wants us to suffer He knows we must in order to become a beautiful vessel.

How could we hold His word so dear to us if we weren’t shaped?

When you set it spinning you must put you hands around it. Gently yet firm as God does with us.

Your fingers make patterns each one unique to who you are because no one has your touch.

When you are finished forming the vessel you are ready to dry, you must find patience and wait.
Glazing even when using the same color we they are all different because each vessel different.
We wait again.

Then we come to the hardest step for the creation. Not all make it some will be cracked beyond repair. All will show how the treatment of the clay changed the lump before it found heat.
When it’s finished it’s misshapen, it has imperfections from the artist’s hands, it might have a crack from the heat. Tiny little scars and rough edges make each one unique. If it holds what God has put in it then it is the most beautiful vessel ever created.

We’ve had bumps and bruises, broken hearts and blunders. We’ve been damaged and yet we hold His word.

We are His beautiful creations.

Fridge Art

For those who are lacking in clutter on the fridge Miss Littles drew a quick duck for us. Please feel free to copy this one.

I hope your weekend is ducky!

Blessings,
Milly

HE thinks/SHE thinks too much

Our Brother Codepoke in a wonderful description of his tennis playing said this:

"The third set started on my serve again. I had just finished losing two service games in a row, but I managed to successfully mentally reset. How much of that was because a pretty girl started watching the match, I'll never know. She was there for 4 games, watching everyone. I don't know why that settles my mind the way it does, but we won those 4 games, and started the third set up 4-0.Somehow, imagining that someone is watching me allows me to quit thinking about myself and start thinking about the job at hand. I don't know why that is, but it surely is."

I couldn’t stop thinking about this.

How different men and women are.

I imagined myself playing tennis then realizing a hansom man was watching me, I know what I would have done.

Picture Milly in a crisp white tennis outfit her racket matching the piping on her shirt. Her shoes clean and white. She is in a sun visor and looks good.

Here is what Milly would be thinking:

Hmm he’s nice to look at I should smile right before I serve. There I smiled. Don’t miss the ball. Is he watching? Darn I missed. Focus! He saw me miss. I wonder if he’s watching me walk back to the line? Can he see that huge bruise? I hope I didn’t miss a spot when I shaved. Hit the ball, run, I look stupid when I run. Yea! she missed. Now he’s looking at me. I need to spit, will he notice me spitting? It’s sports everyone spits. Nice. . . it was a drool. Was he even looking at me? He’s looking at her. Make a good shot then he’ll look at me. *&flop%$#@ Milly bits the dust. I’m ok just a little blood no big deal. Yep men like women who can fall with that amount of grace. I looked like a gazelle flying through the air right before I slammed into the ground like a large puffin. Milly looks at the man as she limps off to wipe the blood. He forces a smile. He smiled at me!

So maybe not all women are like I am but that’s what might have happened. I think about stuff like how I look when I’m doing things. I practiced sitting, eating, even talking. Women change outfits a zillian times because we think: Do I look fat? Is this to low cut? I should shave. Too much make up? Not enough make up? We have to worry about our hair! Our panty hose NEVER fit right! Bra straps show. As we age things saggggg! Chipped nails, shoes that hurt, jewelry, just the right amount of perfume because it’s a fine line. Don’t get me started on eating on a date!

You men make sure you're clean and you’ve shaved.

Why can’t we put our big girl panties on, our comfortable jeans, a shirt that won’t show stains from what we ate, ALL OF WHAT WE ORDERED!,and shoes that make us want to hold your hand and walk for a while in the cool fall breeze?

(Is this breeze mussing my hair too much or just right? Darn I tripped on nothing again.I'm such a clutz)

I love this song

You are beautiful beyond description Too marvelous for words Too wonderful of comprehension Like nothing ever seen or heard Who can grasp your infinite wisdom Who can fathom the depth of your love You are beautiful beyond description Majesty enthroned above

And I stand, I stand in awe of you I stand, I stand in awe of you Holy God to whom all praise is due I stand in awe of you.

By Mark Altrogge

Caution :Nothing Important has gotten to me and you could be next.

Last night while I sat here with ice on my knee I started surfing the Duct Tape sites. Why?
I have no idea. The odd thing is that the actually have contest like make and wear a Duct Tape prom dress. They sale Duct Tape roses and wallets. I have the wallet instructions if you want them.

I also e-mailed the Great Stuff people. It is great stuff and I wanted them to know I love it. WD-40 will remove it from your skin I’m told.

They have WD-40 pens now so that you can get it just where you want with less the mess. Brilliant!

You can use a drill to make refried beans. Danny Kaye should know that.

I tried to play a little pong last night too it was on one of those Duct Tape sites. I didn’t join the club, that’s crazy talk.

I’m going to try to take a nap now.

Group thing

http://www.mops.org/

http://www.momsintouch.org/

I loved going to MOPS even with the problems with the clique.

I’m looking at Moms In Touch.

If you have some please feel free to add.

I didn’t see anything for Dads. Why isn’t there a Dads In Prayer group? You guys could get together while fixing each others lawn equipment or build something for a local charity and pray for you families and the community.

Sisterhood

Sisterhood

sisterhood >noun 1 the relationship between sisters. 2 a feeling of kinship with and closeness to a group of women or all women. 3 an association or community of women linked by a common interest, religion, or trade.

I asked the question- Is it really a sisterhood?

The interesting thing, at least to me, is that most women have a story of dystopian about a sisterhood.

Karen said: I've been rejected by what I thought was a sister more than once.

Milly said: Seems to me that so many are cliques not sisterhoods and I think the definitions are different.

Codepoke shared a bit of what his ex-wife went through.

Codepoke also pointed out the value in a good sisterhood.

There is a way that the sisters came together for her during certain times of their lives that men never experience. Women see and respond to little things that men just don't. And when they do it, they do it together. When something would happen to a woman in our church, the other sisters would descend upon her home like a flock of starlings. No one was in charge, but everyone moved in the same direction at the same time, and that wounded sister was helped.
For the life of me I don’t get it we can go from being these thoughtful loving people to unaffectionate beings.

He's so right!

Karen is right men can do it also. For now my focus is on the women.

We pounce fast at words like home school, public school, daycare, stay-at-home mom, working mom, feminist, pro, activist, spank, spare, and so on.

Why do we get so defensive?

Simple, it questions us. It brings the very essence of who we are in to question. It makes us rethink our foundations. Am I a good parent? Am I a good wife? Am I a good example of a sister?

We have enough to worry about!

I have floors to mop, rooms to clean, toilets to scrub, children to raise, a husband to hold, and a job outside my home.

I am a sister in this sisterhood!

I love you brothers and sisters!

Is it really a sisterhood?

I’ve been thinking about sisterhood and if it honestly exists.


In kindergarten I had only one real friend, a boy. We are still friends. I was so shy that I couldn’t bring myself to even know how to play with the children. To this day my kindergarten teacher still remembers me. She has taught two of my cousin’s children. I was just that unforgettably shy. In grade school I had several friends boys and girls as friends. Something happens as we grow we seem to divide as our hormones race. Is this when the sisterhood develops and is this when a brotherhood happens?



I loved my girl friends in high school and they definitely still feel like family, but is that the definition of sisterhood?


In college one of my friends and I would know where the other was almost all the time. No kidding I could know just by thinking of her and know not only things like what store but what aisle she would be in. Drove my boyfriend crazy. Was that a sisterhood?


I have two very close friends now. I can’t tell where they are when I think of them but I can call if I need them. Is this a sisterhood?


I’ve noticed that on some of our blogs when the subject of women comes up women can hit fast and hard if they think someone is about to step on a woman’s rights or what they think the rights are. Is this a sisterhood quick to jump on the man in moment’s time?


A blog that I read by a very smart man was hit hard because he simply put in a link about how men and women have different brains.


We do! For those who haven’t realized it yet we do. I could put all the stereo typical reasoning jargon hoping not to be hit myself but I won’t. I will say look as far as your bathroom. Does he have makeup and perfume and things to brush his eyebrows? (I know he needs it) Will you find facial scrub and six kinds of moisturizers in a basket? If you give him a seashell will he put it in the bathroom?


Now don’t get me wrong on this I think the idea of a sisterhood is great as long as it’s open to other sisters. I’ve seen how quickly women can shut others out. Heck I’ve had that ugly door slammed in my face. I thought that volunteering for a women’s group would be fun, I’d get to know other women better from my church not to mention women from the area. After struggling to get to know them for a year and a half I gave up. I remember the exact moment I made the decision. I was in Minnesota for a convention, as I walked to the convention center alone I took in what God had made. I took long deep breaths allowing fall to seep into my senses. The leaves were beautifully colored in reds, yellows, and browns. The damp cool air made me wish I could walk forever. I stopped to ask for directions from a doctor’s office, the doctor himself took my hand and pointed to the center. I didn’t want to walk in I wanted to see the city, I thought about my mom, I wondered if she enjoyed any of Minnesota while dad was in college.


My thoughts were taken back to reality when I reached the entrance I walked here alone because they walked away as I headed for the center. They didn’t say they were going a different way as we walked I turned to see them walking away, the wrong way. No we were not a sisterhood. One lady asked me if I was ok and said she was worried about me. One not the other nine or so. Why didn’t I stop and follow? Two reasons, one they walked away after being given the correct directions as I went through the door. Two they were going the wrong way. I felt that the whole time in that ministry as if we were trying to wrap a box in the most beautiful wrapping only to find it empty once opened. It was a disappointing gift.


We met nightly to go over what had gone on in our meetings finally someone spoke what had been on my heart about trust and the lack of it. I chose not to tell what I felt I refused to hurt people. After the meeting one person spoke to me about what she had been saying behind my back, they were lies. I confronted the other person involved she denied it and tried to give blame to others.

Is a sisterhood suppose to be so hard?

Is a sisterhood a way of protecting women?

Is a sisterhood a way of pushing men out?

Is it really a sisterhood?

I’m not saying that I don’t like being around women I just wonder if sometimes we go too far when we agree to protect the other sister.

I prefer the idea of a brotherhood and a sisterhood being a familyhood.

Don’t get me wrong though, ya just don’t mess with my Cowboys. ;-} because sisters, those are my brothers.

Milly Millyist thoughts

Observations of the week

If you get really close to my bumper in traffic -I slow down

If you tell me you are going to our competitor after being down right rude-I think "Good"
I smile instead and tell you "Have a grand day"

I am not a bartender yet-people tell me stuff, at times it’s very personal

My husband is great-I said "I guess I need to look like the other Stepford wives in the neighborhood", he said "I don’t want a Stepford wife." I wonder if it’s because I’d need to shop more or if he thinks the jeans with the knee worn out is ;-}

The cafeteria ladies are great- to us moms who have no information or envelopes when we bring money.

Caffeine-rocks

Where I work-isn’t in favor or bartering so stop asking. That is the real price.

I don’t mind you venting- just get it all out in no more than two calls I’m trying to work also.
Department heads- love to vent when they talk to me. I get to say things like - I know honey, I don’t know why, I understand, I . . . a. . . . I wish I could, no that word didn’t offend me .- to a department head while thinking I wonder how many people can hear him I can hear him loudly on this phone.

It’s good to have today off-I’m going to the doctor about my knee pain and I get to have dinner with family and friends.

My house-would be cleaner if I’d clean it

My father celebrated another birthday-my mother threw him his first birthday when they were dating in college. Daddy was always so slow to open gifts as if to rejoice in every moment.
Rejoicing in every moment while opening gifts-Makes kids crazy and wiggly

Giggles-are grand

One of your best friends calling you and you playing phone tag then finally being able to catch up. -a grand thing

Finding out your friend marriage is going well when it was close to disaster- grand

Learning more about God-priceless!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wrote that before going to the doctor.

My knee is killing me!

I made a decision to get into shape before I turn fifty.

I have time!

I made this big decision as I got myself ready to leave the house I had to drop my daughter off at school go to the bank go to the Boy’s school pay for his lunches go back Miss Little’s school to pay lunches. So there it was while in pain I will live longer!


The doctor twisted and poked then sent me to x-ray. I felt sort of ratish in the maze of buildings on the way to x-ray

I sat in yet another waiting room wondering who writes letters to People Magazine. I don’t read it because I don’t care about who Jennifer is dating and if Mel has wrecked his career. They don’t care about me either so were even.


It was way over an hour wait so I caught up on All My Children, I’m now good for the year.

I forgot to take something to read so I was trying to stay awake.

The thing is that God speaks to us just when were about to drift off.

They called a lady back she seemed a bit younger than me, she looked at her husband and held her hand out for him to join her, she then turned and asked if he could join her, the nurse agreed. She joked about him not being someone she had just picked up. They called an older woman back ,her husband smiled as she walked behind him and leaned over she said I’ll be right back, he told her he’d be waiting and called her by a pet name that I wished I could have heard. The younger woman came out crying her husband seemed to only know to follow her. I prayed for them. When the older lady came out she put her hands gently on his shoulders, he knew her touch. He called her by that pet name again, I couldn’t hear it. I watched as they held hands and walked out. I prayed for them.

I was called I had to lay on a table and hold my knee just right. Pain! I wondered about those other women as I clenched my teeth.

Is it a sisterhood that make women want stop the world to help one another?

Good Daddy

School is now in full swing. Miss Littles and I were ready. The boys? Not so much. Summer went way too fast for them. For the boy it was because of his mission trip and church camp, for the Daddy his baby girl started first grade. She has really grown this summer and has let go of some of the child in her. She went from Blue’s Clues to High School Musical.

It’s hard for a good Daddy to let a little girl grow up. He seems to want to always see her as his baby girl needing him to protect her from spiders and monsters. First grade is a reminder that soon he’ll be protecting her from boys and more boys. Miss Little is an independent girl she wants to walk into school alone, pick her own clothing, make own choices then snuggle up with us for some love.

I had a wonderful example of what a father should be in my Daddy. He never spanked me, he didn’t have to, I was perfect. Actually my dad can stop me with a look. He has always encouraged me to follow my dreams. He has given sound advice when I asked or he decided it was needed. My Daddy worked hard, he didn’t move from job to job he showed us stability. I’ve seen him comfort an upset guinea pig, talk to a little barn owl, listen to a counselor who was ready to yell at the parents, instead he could only sit on the steps and cry. My Daddy spoke softly and gave this man the ability to go back into the room. His laughter and voice rang through the Home the kids there called him Daddy too, I thought it was cool.

My Daddy received a Humanitarian Award from the State of Oklahoma. The night of the ceremony my father was unhappy that he couldn’t watch me preform at the college. He was actually thinking of giving up that wonderful moment to watch me do improve in the coffee house. I was crushed that I couldn’t be with him on such an important night.

Being a Father and being a Daddy are two different things. A father is stoic and formal a Daddy is most likely you guys who read my blog. A Daddy lets his daughter dance to the Stripper for a 4-H play and shoots his riffle when the boys are honking for his daughter who still needs a bit of time to get ready. (Your Daddy didn’t do that?)

The best Daddy is mine. Miss Littles Daddy is a grand second.
I’ll bet you guys are working on being almost as good.



I’m praying for our children as they move into this new school year.


A quick duck for Mommy
.
By Miss Littles

News flash: I did it!

I finally got a picture up. No didn’t draw it Miss Littles is my artist she insisted on the duck today. Anyone in need of fridge art is welcome to copy it.

This wasn’t my first choice I wanted the butterfly so don’t be surprised if it changes.

The funny thing is that I was so wanting to get it out to someone I tried to come up with reasons to post a comment and the only thing I could think of was "Look what I can do." Not exactly right given some of the subjects. I did pop over to Mr. Mead’s to comment. A busy man like that should be able to cross that off his I wonder list.

Next I tackle the side stuff thingys. :-}


Our Female Polar Bear

Our female Polar Bear Has Died
This is sad news from our zoo.

Our female polar bear has died. Marushka was soon to be 24-years-old. She came from Moscow in 1984. The zoo staff says Marushka may have died from chronic heart disease. The zoo says on average polar bears in captivity can live to be anywhere from their mid-20s to early 30s.

The polar bears are a fun addition to our zoo. I can spend so much time watching them swim in the pool. I hope the male will be able to go on without her.

Pain

I’m on day three of a migraine today the pain is just a dull reminder of the others. That’s a good thing I’m at the end of a rope of pain. I just want to curl up in bed and sleep, I need to eat something first. I think according to the lady on the commercial I’ve maxed out on the pills, she doesn’t say if eight is too many or three and reading the bottle when you can’t see too well is impossible. Why doesn’t she just tell us? "If you have taken eight, it’s too many."

I switched pills that way I won’t need to worry. ;-}


I’ve also had to be at work for the last two days . Yes it’s great when you feel like smacking your head with a hammer while taking care of people. I apologized to my boss for not being on my game. He said it was fine. I still did all the side work while the others chatted. Ahhhh!!!! Please don’t do it, let the dizzy girl do the work. As I left my boss said "It’s always a pleasure to work with you."

:-} I needed that.

PLANTING SEEDS

We are all called to plant a seed in those around us. The cool thing is that we won’t know if it took root. The not knowing isn’t cool, I love knowing that what I said or did made a difference. The cool thing is that if we are doing it right we are tossing seeds ever day and if you toss some and I toss some and they germinate then we have done God will.


Art by Miss Littles

A young lady that I work with talked to two of us about the want to find a church. We could have easily been the "Pushy Christians" ready to pounce on the "non-churched", instead we talked to her about her church background. She didn’t have one. We both invited her to our churches and encouraged her to find one that she likes, one that makes her feel at home. I told her too shop around a bit and that God will put her where she needs to be.


Sunday was her last day to work with us I gave her information, a sermon on CD, some treats from church, and a Bible. She didn’t have a Bible and was excited to receive one. I wrote in it This book will always lead you home.


She said that she had gone to a church and that she liked it.


I may not ever know on this earth what comes of this college bound you lady but I pray that I’m able to pass the Heavenly fruit salad down the table to her some day.

Wood, blood, and love

My aunt make quilts. I love them, each one different.

She has a rule about how many she makes for a family. One when you are married, mine is mostly pink and is the wedding ring pattern I think, one when you have a baby my son loves his, that’s all. If you have more children then you must use the baby one she gave you. She made one for my daughter. Each square was hand embroidered with a different nursery rhymes. I believe it won first place at the fair.

I keep my wedding quilt in a hope chest most of the time, it’s so beautiful and special to me.

My son’s is well used and has blood stains from his many sores, it’s so faded from all the washing. He still loves it.

My daughter’s is also put away washing it would surely disturb the work my aunt spent hours doing.

The most special of all of my quilts is the one that was brought to me by my aunt. After my grandmother died she found squares embroidered by my grandmother, my grandmother was a loving woman who enjoyed people and loved to laugh. She had beautiful hair and loved to sit in her rocking chair. The chair where she had once rocked seven of her own children possibly holding two as they died and at least four of her grandchildren. I loved her so much. She loved to tease my stoic grandfather. Yes, I'm told that I'm like her.

When I aunt brought the quilt to me she said I can think of no other to give it to. You and Mom are so alike. The folks at the fair stained the quilt a bit when they hung it on the wood for display. I’d have to take it apart to clean it and I doubt that it would come out nor would I be able to make it look the same I can’t make those stitches look like hers.


In my home are four special quilts two perfect and clean. One stained from the blood of a son and the other stained from the wood.

All of them loved.

John 3:16
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,
that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

(The rocking chair is mine :- )

Join Me

http://www.moonpie.com/hist_text.asp
I’m not one for titles because they never actually and completely define who we are. If I had to put a title on myself It might look like this I am a modern Christian Feminist Conservative Democrat with Libertarian views at times Egalitarian on some issues Mom Wife Volunteer Friend Moonpiest who sings loud and off key in my car.

That’s right I’m a CFCDLEMWVFM bad singer.


It occurred to me that not everyone is familiar with the greatness on the Moon Pie. I know it’s a sad thing so I’ve placed a thingy to click to it so that you might understand the true meaning of it’s greatness. Until you actually taste the goodness you can truly not be a real Moonpiest you if I may will only be a Mock Moonpiest .


Have I always been a Moonpiest? Yes, as long as I could eat real foods I was a Moonpiest. My mother was a Moonpiest and possibly her mother I’m not sure. My Grandmother was from Tennessee so I’m sure she knew of the joy.


I have a special place in my heart for miners. Knowing that they named the treat brings tears of joy to my eyes. My uncle was a cole miner. My aunt was proud to be his wife his daughter was . . . . Oops sorry. (A country song took over.)


Taste the goodness sit on the fence with me, become a Moonpies.
The cool kids are doing it.

Left Foot Right Shoe

I don’t like shoes for the most part. I appreciate them and I realize that it’s very hard to get around without the things on your feet, after all I was taught American history so I know all about Valley Forge.




I was born with, as my aunt put it, "feet that had to compromise with each other." They turned in making it a bit difficult to walk. Adding to the fact that I wasn’t like other children I had to wear ugly shoes and walk lines in school. I can pick things up with my toes, yes I have talent. Shoes are something to cover my feet. I was told not to wear high heals EVER. Doctors orders I say to my husband as he smiles and holds up the very stylish high pointy toucher chambers for feet. I have two pairs of boots and three pairs of heals all black. Running shoes, work shoes, and about three pairs of sandals I only really wear the ugly pair that I purchased at a sporting goods store.


My daughters eyes light up at the minor mention of shoes. Do I take her shopping? No way. She is taken quite often by my sister they spend hours in the best shoe stores. Why the best? Because one of her feet turns in a little. My sister insists on the very best for her niece and I step aside for them. My father once made the mistake of taking her to Wal-mart for shoes for the park. She tried on ever thing she could and then went dress shopping.


I have to confess something I can’t stand to touch feet. Baby feet are different. You have to love the little toes. I wasn’t aware of the problem until college. That’s also when my mom noticed a slight speech problem. F and th wiff instead of with once in a while. Thanks for noticing I’ve been talking for a while now. Back to feet. I was in college at a friend’s house, we were all hanging out as we did way too many times when I heard someone say "Now watch" I washed my hands because I touched my shoes and shoe strings. "See she said every time she washes her hands, every time." Isn’t that normal? Shoes touch the ground it's dirty ick. Laces are right with them on the ground ick ick ick.


Here’s a big confession when read that Jesus washed others feet I am touched, very touched. I couldn’t do it. At church when they had events that involved public foot washing or women soaking in water and giving pedicures I become squeamish and repulsed. My friend once looked at me and whispers this is your worst nightmare as the audience was instructed to remove their shoes. The team was one member short on shoes. I looked away I looked at him to remove his shoes I hoped for the shoe fairy to drop a pair from the sky. I gave in they lost I could have shown them how to build a tower of shoes only I would have had to actually touch other peoples shoes.

Don't get me started on socks.


Is it wrong to not be like Jesus by not wanting to wash others feet?

Today

Today I feel different. I can’t exactly put my finger on it. I’m not sure why. It could be the heat 108 degrees is a bit hot. It could be eating a corn dog and onion rings for lunch. Not enough caffeine, I think as I go for a soda. I want to sleep and eat chocolate. Now some are thinking and it could be I’d need to count we women have that time. It could be that I’m unhappy with my son’s school already and they have yet to start. Summer reading that we weren’t informed of and a book that can’t be found.


It could be all of the above and some of the other things. I so hate myself for this feeling. Others are sitting in the heat because they have nowhere else to be, yet I complained to myself about the A/C in my car wasn’t working properly. My daughter suffers more than us she is in the back in a car seat. She’s a Little still. I looked over as we made our way through traffic at a man holding a sign that said "Anything would help" Look at him he’d rather stand in the heat then get a job I say. I hear "Momma he wants money." From the back seat. My son then starts telling me all the ways we can give through the church. Milly you need to open your eyes today and see how blessed you are. It brings me now to tears thinking of how blessed I am.


My church is in the desert and we are slowly walking out. When we do we will be stronger and more united God is leading us. A background on our church we were the mighty one other churches wanted to model themselves after us they came from far and wide to see how we did it. The dynamic speaker and the large church building. We may have become more about who we are then about God and in God’s wonderful way of being a father He reprimanded us. Now He is ready to lead us as He sees fit. It’s amazing to see Him working in us. We are the church not a building it’s in our hearts.

Picture This

I realize that I can easily over react to things so without a doubt I may right now be doing just that.

I scan a blog once in a while of someone from my church. Sometimes I find it amusing to see the perception of what he thinks happened and what actually happened. They can be very different.
He had linked a photo album with several activities of ours. My thoughts were instantly "Does he have permission to post those?" When my photograph and children’s came up the answer was NOPE.

Is it wrong to do that?

It seems a bit creepy to me, plus it was a very bad picture of me. No one comments on his but he most likely has several readers.

Should you ask before you post a photograph of someone?

Is there a bloging etiquette for this?

Milly is what?

NO! No baby growing in this gal.
One A doctor would be getting a phone call
Two I’d announce big
Three I’d be big
Four The scream would be hear around the world
Five I don’t think my body could do it again
Six I’d be having another six years apart every six years having a baby. No thank you
Seven I’m too darners old
Eight After having a rocky pregnancy the first time, one false pregnancy, and one hard delivery .I’m tired
Nine I have a house payment and a job
Ten The next one should be a grandchild who will call me for fun.



I do love the baby toes. ;-} Photos of Miss Little

We Should All Be Happy That God Takes Us From A Caterpillar To A Butterfly

To clarify this I did a quick rewrite. Thanks ;-}

Yesterday seemed to have a theme of drama to it at work. Little yaps of Meisms and how someone did someone wrong. I actually covered my ears and said "I don’t want to hear it. La la la" as I escorted a man to where he need to be. I apologized for the behavior of the coworker and myself.

Here’s where my perspective came in yesterday. I spoke to a man who was wearing a shirt from a vender that I once had dealings with, I mentioned the only person in that field that I could remember at the time. Mike died about a year ago and his death still shocks me. He was about my age and a very nice man. Mike was so excited for me when I told him I was pregnant about thriteen years ago. The man that I was speaking to and I were both shocked at the way he died. If it was an accident how stupid we humans are. If it was murder, Why?


I work in a place where homeless and drug addicts are plentiful. Yet we still focus on our own little petty things. I drive past people who live in boxes and under the overpasses.


We are blessed because God allowed us this wonderful life and someday we will all be butterflies in a perfect place.

Fridge art by Miss Little

"Who finds a faithful friend, finds a treasure."

Jewish saying


The party idea wasn’t just a non thinking event it was also to look at us and see who we are. Yes I was into social psychology in college. The menu reflects who we are in food, where we would find ourselves in my home reflects how we mingle with others.


Danny Kaye wanted to share his cooking skills, where he’s from, and learn. He wants to get to know everyone and have a good time doing it. (Watch out for the heavy traffic if you are playing in the street)


Larry’s culinary skills scare me. Possum fried or in a pie? :-p
Larry wanted a slower game you can talk and relax while playing pool. It’s a great chance to get to know each other.


Andreia wanted to bring things to munch on, she makes herself at home, her quick wit and knowledge would keep you laughing while in the kitchen.


Codepoke wanted beef, he’s cowboy, what else would you put on Milly’s grill? (I use real mesquite wood chips not fake smoke :-} for you sir anything) The Cowboy wants games he wants to be able to laugh and get to know us.


Milly a pasta salad, fresh Oklahoma vegetables, and peach pie from Oklahoma peaches. I love to share the goodness of what God gave us. Salads are like who we are different ingredients and yet when mixed together wonderful.


Where would Milly be?

Everywhere.

I want to know you all. I want to laugh with you. I want to play games and sing off key. I want Danny to teach me how to cook lobster and steamers. I want to swap stories, yell like family, and enjoy fellowship.


One thing that I noticed no one chose to sit in the family room to just talk and Codepoke pointed out why. Small Talk. We all get worn out by it. I’ve been in a "trapped" situation on more than one occasion , most of us have. You sit down next to someone and the next thing you know you are listing to things that you can’t just excuse yourself from to go play in the kitchen. You find yourself desperately looking for a hole to escape. I don’t mean to sound uncaring nor am I saying that Codepoke means this. I’m saying it’s a difficult situation that perhaps we unconsciously, except for perchance Codepoke, were avoiding.
This also made me want for a gathering.


Some of the others were gone or didn’t participate we still want them at the gathering of friends, family, and fellowship.



Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.-- Anonymous

Carte de jour

Cheese,Chips, Salsa, &Tortillas
Guarana
Pasta salad
Home grown tomatoes & mozzarella cheese topped with balsamic vinegar& olive oil
Kalamata olives


Surf and turf
Garlic butter
Plain Butter
Squash
Zucchini
Potatoes
Fresh Corn
Fried Okra
(Something needed to be fried it is Oklahoma)
Larry's Road Kill de jour

Homemade peach cobbler from Oklahoma peaches & Homemade Ice cream.

Where ya gonna hang?

Now that the food is coming together. Let’s talk about where you’d spend your time in my home.


I have the Kids Domain up stairs. Video game land (No rated T’s and up the boy won’t play them and if they do have words he doesn’t care for you must turn it down)


Office with computer (You must fix Milly’s blog)


Empty room that should be formal dining room, we aren’t formal folks so it will some day be the Cowboy Room. Leather chairs and so on. (It was a long trip and laying on the floor is a nice way to nap or talk)


Family room that is open to the breakfast room and kitchen. The family room has a sofa and the big chair, it’s where the television is. (Sitting on the couch talking theology is the only way to go. Catch the game? So you know Milly hates the television being on when she’s trying to hang out with friends.)


Breakfast room this is where we eat. It has a table and chairs to make it more convenient for eating. ( Love sitting at the table munching on chips and salsa, Oklahoma and Texas style and talking to friends. You’ll need a drink Gringo.)


Kitchen (Got to be in the middle of the food I learn, they learn, we sing, dance, laugh, and eat. It’s like The Big Chill, we are party central)



Sitting at the bar. (Enjoying the floor show in the kitchen)

Patio with the grill. (That’s the ticket give me an oversized spatula and an apron that says Kiss The Cook )