THURSDAY THOUGHTS: Locked Out

I had coffee with friend and fellow blogger, Wendy, last Saturday morning.  Here is a link to her blog http://partofmystory.blogspot.com.  I mentioned since I started blogging again, after a rather lengthy absence, the few posts I’ve done have been serious and I missed the funny me.  Cuz I am a funny one.  And when I say funny I don’t mean funny Ha Ha, but funny in that I do and say stupid things.  Like this episode a while back with my equally funny sister, Chrystal.

 

During my basement dweller days Chrystal and I would occasionally go grocery shopping together.  (She lived upstairs in the main part of the house and I, and my two cats, lived in the cute little basement.  Cute, if you could overlook the spiders.)  We came home from one such shopping trip to find I was locked out of my apartment. 

“No problem, just go through my house, through the garage and laundry room and use the connecting door,” Chrystal suggested.

“Ok.”  As I said that I was trying to remember if I had left that door unlocked or not.  I usually locked it even though she was the only one with access, because I’m a fraidy cat.  What if the bad guys come through her house, rob and kill her, and then decide to check out the basement dweller!

Sure enough, it was locked.

“I’ll get a screw driver and hammer and take it off the hinges,” said one of us.  I think it was me because I remember being the one to actually UNSUCCESSFULLY take it off the hinges. 

“Well since that didn’t work just use the hammer to break the lock.”  I distinctly remember it being Chrystal who came up with that idea.

After about 20 minutes of the two of us taking turns trying to break the stupid lock, which of course wouldn’t break because it was doing its job, we gave up.

“This door is not the sturdiest of doors.  What if we use the hammer to chop a hole right next to the door knob, and then reach in and unlock the door.”  Again, I credit Chrystal with suggesting another brilliant plan.

So chop we did.  And we chopped some more.  We got a lot of aggression out on that stinking door!

 
“Wow, these doors are sturdier than they appear,” I said after another 10 minutes. 

Another few minutes of chopping and we had a hole big enough to reach through only to find out that, in our earlier attempt to break it, we had damaged the lock beyond use.  So locked it stayed.

We stood there for a few minutes staring at all the wood chips on the floor with nothing to show for it.  It was then that Chrystal decided to give it a shot with the hammer and screw driver to take the door off the hinges. 

It came right off. 

What?!?!?  What had I done wrong?  I have taken doors off hinges many times to move large furniture in or out or to paint or something.  What?!?!?

We discussed if for a bit and decided it was because we were tired.  And maybe also needed some therapy time to hit, punch, yell, and destroy an inanimate object.  Poor little door.

Since we rented the house from our church we thought the most Christian thing to do would be to hide it and get someone else to come put in a new door before the elder in charge found out.  Which is what we did.  Unfortunately the elder in charge was mowing our backyard when the chopped up door passed by.  He laughed, shook his head and said he didn’t dare ask what happened.

So that is how my single sister and I solved the problem of being locked out.  Would a husband have gotten it off the hinges on the first try?  Or would he have not forgotten his key in the first place.  Either way I think our plan worked out just fine.  I got in didn’t I?

Question:  Ever been locked out?  Have better luck in getting in than we did? 

TUESDAY TUNES: Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0jpHtsSEQo  Hillsong Version

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWxb6VvPrkE Michael W. Smith Version

 
Matthew 6:33 is a Life verse for me:  But seek first HIS kingdom and HIS righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

These words of Jesus are from the Sermon on the Mount.  Leading up to this verse He is talking about worry.  I’m a worrier.  Maybe that’s why I love this verse so much.  When I daily seek Him first, He tells me everything else will fall into place.  So don’t worry.

If I know that to be true, and I trust Him, then why do I have stomach issues, break out into rashes and get fever blisters all stemming from worry?  It’s that head knowledge-heart knowledge stuff again.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus

Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace

Daily…step by step…one second at a time…start again…listen…trust…remember…pray…be still…seek Him first…do it all again…

God speaks to me through the “address” of this verse:

When I get home from work and wonder what’s on tap for my evening and realize it’s 6:33, I think, “God wants me to spend some time with Him.”  6:33 Seek HIM.

When I’ve made a questionable choice and look at the clock and see that it’s 6:33, I think, “Was that really the best way to handle that situation.”  6:33 Seek HIM

At random times when I see the cost of something is $6.33 or an address is 633 or my eye catches 633 in the middle of a set of numbers, I stop and remember His promise.  6:33 Seek HIM

Turn your eyes upon Jesus, seek His wonderful face, and He will provide.  And what you thought was best for you will grow strangely dim because, in the light of His glory and grace, His plans are always better than what our earthly minds could come think of.

Question:  Do you have things like my 633 where God catches your attention?

TUESDAY TUNES: Say the Name

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Es7GE6seBFc 

I’m on a Margaret Becker kick.  She was my girl back in the late 80’s and 90’s.  Now I’m listening to her again.  I really hadn’t noticed until this go ‘round how much she sounds like the Wilson sisters of Heart; a band I also liked in the 80’s.  But Heart’s “If Looks Could Kill You’d be Lying on the Floor” is a far cry from Becker’s “Say the Name.”

“If Looks Could Kill” would have gotten me through a breakup or hard times back in 1988. But words like, “I was a sucker to believe in you, a sucker for every line,” or “Love is on the line, I ain’t about to be kind,” have such a negative ring to them, don’t ya think??  But I remember blaring that album, (you know, vinyl record albums) in my cute little four-plex on Judge Ely Blvd. in Abilene, TX back in the day.

But thankfully, I’ve progressed past the negativity!  I can sit back and “Say the name that has heard my cry, has seen my tears and wiped them dry,” and find a much more productive healing.  Now, “Just a whisper is enough to set my soul at ease.  Just thinking of this name brings my heart to peace.”
 

Several years ago, I was standing a few rows behind an elderly woman while we were singing Natalie Grant’s song “Your Great Name.”  She was seated, but when we got to the words, “The enemy, he has to leave, at the sound of Your Great Name,” she struggled to a standing position.  That gesture of respect moved me to tears.  “May I never grow so strong that my heart cannot be moved. May I never grow so weak that I fear to speak the truth. I will say this holy Name no matter who agrees. For no other name on earth means so much to me.”

Philippians 2:9-11

⁹ Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
    and gave him the name that is above every name,
¹⁰ that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
¹¹ and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.

“From now until the end of time, I’ll Say the Name.”

 

THURSDAY THOUGHTS: Be Still and Know that I am God

Photo by Lois Flores

I was recently asked if I could “Be Still” for a while and await an answer regarding a job.  I replied, “Well, I can tell you it is part of Psalm 46:10 and the entire Psalm starts out with telling us that God is our refuge and strength.  But to actually put it in to practice, nope, I can’t do that.”  Fortunately my potential employer chuckled along with me, also knowing that waiting isn’t easy.

When you’re single, your income is it.  You’re not a supplemental income alongside your spouse's to help with extra expenses.  You’re not a comparable amount to be part of the monthly budget.  You are it!

Sometimes I find that scary. 

Sometimes I find it an exciting opportunity to see how God will work things out. 
Be still…and know that I am God…

Sometimes I find it frustrating. 

Sometimes I find it a good way to trust God.
Be still…and know that I am God…

Sometimes I want to make a phone call and get things rolling.

Sometimes I just want to sit at His feet and watch Him work.
Be still…and know that I am God…

It’s not just “knowing” that He is God.  I have to “let” Him be God.  It’s the difference between reciting Psalm 46 and believing it and trusting Him enough to live it out. 

I joke around with friends and say, “This is the year I marry money!”  My Portland to Coast team would like extra money to buy a van, team T-shirts, a cushy hotel and massage in Seaside after the race.  But until I find that rich husband it just isn’t going to happen.  But in reality, I have found someone…

I found Him while I was being still enough to know Him and then let Him be God.

TUESDAY TUNES: Help Me Find It

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsjZ94K7UQs

This was my theme song for last summer…

I became unemployed and homeless all in one weekend in the spring of 2013.  So in June I found myself on a plane headed for Tennessee to spend the summer with some good friends working as their nanny.  I also needed to clear my head and figure out what was next.

 As I drove around beautiful Franklin, Tennessee with its green cotton-ball trees, Sidewalk Prophets’ song “Help Me Find It” always seemed to be on the radio every time I needed it to be. 

It was my story...

“I don’t know where to go from here, it all used to seem so clear.”

”If there’s a road I should walk, help me find it.”

 And the comfort of…

“For every step, I’ve never been alone.”

 

“Even when it hurts You’ll have Your way, even in the valley I will say, with every breath You’ve never let me go.”

 If I was alone in the car I would sing it at the top of my lungs! But one evening the song came on while I was driving the girls to dance, or to eat, or to a friend’s house or to something.  I said, “Oh, I LOVE this song.  It’s my theme song.”  They asked me why, so I started singing along with the words like I was telling them my story.  When it got to the words “You’ve never failed before” I had to turn my head and fight back tears, because He never has.

 Right before that phrase are the words, “I will wait for You.”  That’s the hard part!!  But I’m learning to “Be Still and Know (remember) that He is God.”  These are not new concepts for me.  It’s just when you find yourself in a difficult situation you learn them all over again.

 Ten months later I’m still a bit in limbo.  But, He’s never failed before!  That’s all I need to know.  So even though I don’t know where to go from here, I will wait for Him.  And He won’t fail me this time either!

The Lap Dance

Opie

Friday night my friend Stacy and I were two wild and craaaazy single gals out on the town to hear our friend’s band play. They are called Opie and if you ever have a chance to hear them you should go. However, I hope you have a more pleasant experience than we had the other night.

When we walked into the bar we saw a couple exchanging saliva rather rigorously, so we steered clear of their table. It was somewhat difficult since it was smack dab in the middle of the floor. They didn’t seem to care that their tender moment of intimacy was being played out in front of everyone. I attributed that to all the empties on their table. And those made me wonder if they had just met.

Now being somewhat of a good girl (I say somewhat cuz I did have my twenties) I couldn’t help thinking this behavior was a bit, well, embarrassing; disgusting; crude; high schoolish; gross! Soon their make out session began to progress more into the realm of a lap dance. Having never really seen a lap dance before, I can only assume this was one. I can also see why a man would enjoy one. This man certainly was anyway.

He was quite a bit older than his lap buddy so I’m thinking she may have been playing out some Daddy issues; which is really pretty sad when you think about it. There were also some girls dancing in front of the band. I’m sorry, but there is just not enough alcohol in the world to get me to do the “drunk white girl dance” in front of a crowd.

After standing for quite a while and spilling my drink on my shoe we finally gave in and took the only two chairs left in the room. I say gave in because they were at the lap dancers’ table. There were three chairs and since they were only occupying one, we moved in. I thought if I just kept my gaze toward the stage I wouldn’t notice the X-rated action on my right. But it was really hard to not look. Like when you see an accident and you just can’t look away.

It was just amazing; arms were flying around and clothing was all askew. I can’t really tell you what her shirt looked like but I can describe her bra in detail. I was shocked they were behaving that way in front of everyone. But then again I don’t get out much.

She was in every position possible on his lap that there could be (or at least that my imagination could come up with). She was up, she was down, she was all around. She would do him in a house; she would do him with a mouse. She would do him in a box; she would do him with a fox.

We moved the table closer to us, not to give them more room, but to make it more apparent that we weren’t with them. At one point he was reaching for his beer and couldn’t find it, I assume because his eyes were otherwise occupied. I nicely slid the table over for him to grab his beverage. I’m nothing if not polite. After his refreshment he went back to business.

It was then that things really started to heat up. With the table further away, it gave her the leverage she apparently had been missing. She put her hands on the table and went to town. Somehow his arm came up under mine and it was then that Stacy and I grabbed our purses and joined the fans storming the stage.

I guess I am just too sheltered. And I’m okay with that. Other than the two of us no one seemed to give the lap dance couple a second thought. Or at least they didn’t stare like we did. I couldn’t get outside fast enough once the music was over. Ewwww.

I prefer my sheltered church girl life over public displays of lap dancing. But the music was good. Maybe I’ll just stick to their CD’s.

Question: My goodness, I can’t even come up with a question for a blog focused on lap dancing! Got any?

Paying it Forward

Last Saturday night I had a Haley Joel Osment moment: I got to Pay it Forward.

A good friend called and said she needed to go to the Emergency Room and that I, of all her friends, would understand the late night call and take her. She was right. After making two similar phone calls in recent months I was more than happy to oblige.

I was also able to share some of the newfound ER etiquette I learned from my experiences:

1. Throw up in front of as many of the staff as you can. That way they know you are serious. Plus they don’t want you throwing up in front of any other patients in the waiting room. It may start a puking frenzy as seeing someone else throw up tends to make you wanna hurl as well.

2. Sleeping on the hospital floor is not a good idea. Besides the fact that it is covered in who knows what kind of germs, the staff may think you are drunk and just need to sleep it off, leaving you untended to for hours.

3. To ward off “the shakes” take several deep breaths. But make sure they bring you the heated blankets before doing so. You don’t want to miss out on that little piece of heaven.

4. Even though your nausea may be subsiding, do not say no to more anti-nausea meds. All it takes is one standing up moment to send you to Pukesville again.

5. Remember that your gown is open in the back and that you are not wearing any underwear. Enough said.

6. Never feel bad for calling a friend late at night to take you to the Emergency Room. You may be robbing them of the chance to help someone in need, which is always a good thing.  That is what God had in mind...a friend loves at all times...11 a.m. or 11 p.m.

Question: Have you ever made one of those phone calls? Or been the recipient?

Another Jack Reacher is Born

Spoiler Alert!  If you don’t want to know a tidbit of information about the new MISSION IMPOSSIBLE movie, don’t read any further.

So I went to see the new MISSION IMPOSSIBLE movie the other night, even though I knew Tom Cruise was in it, for the sole purpose of watching Sawyer from LOST. Well, he dies within the first 90 seconds! Are you kidding me?!?!? Oh wait, here comes a flash back with him. No, sorry, only another 90 seconds long. Great. Juuuuust great.

All of this brought me back to how much I DO NOT want Tom to play my Jack Reacher in the upcoming Ian Child film. And then it hit me who would be another better choice for Reacher over Tom: Sawyer from LOST. Yes, that’s right, the guy who gets killed off in the first 90 seconds! Jack Holloway.

Am I right, Reacher fans?

All in all, the movie was a good action movie, if you like non-stop action movies.  But then, I went to see SHERLOCK HOLMES and that action was much less, well, “Tom Cruise-y.” Holmes' action was creative which made for a more entertaining film. And Robert Downey Jr. doesn’t run as funny as Tom Cruise does.

Question: Did you see either movie?

Survivor Finale

A great tradition I have is watching the Survivor Finale with my friend Linda and the wonderful Stewart Family. We’ve shared countless snack food filled finale nights cheering on our favorite survivor who out played, out witted and out lasted all the others.

This season my favorite was Coach. Now granted, his other two seasons I found him rather annoying, but I gravitated towards him this time around. There was something different about him on his third try for the million even though I did find his use of the words integrity, honor, family and Christian rather hypocritical.

To me Survivor is A GAME and if you have to lie, cheat and steal to get to the end then so be it. I’ve had many a scratched hand and nearly broken finger while playing a rousing game of spoons, so a little dishonesty would be nothing in a game for a million buckaroos.

I auditioned for Survivor back in the spring of 2009. I was a children’s minister at the time and I said in my audition tape, “My biggest fear is that I will drop some f-bombs or that my bathing suit top will go askew on national television and I will have to quit my job.” I did tell my senior pastor, since I considered Survivor to be a game, I would stop at nothing including lying and cheating to win the million dollars. He said as long as I planned on tithing he saw no problem with my tactics.

One of my least favorite contestants this season was Edna. That was until she spoke up during the final jury. Then she rocked and won my respect. To summarize, she basically told the jury, all the ones who had been voted off, you should be prepared to be duped when you sign up for a show like this. So, hats off to the final three cuz they did the duping and out lasted all the rest. And after all, isn’t that the point?

I think I will audition for the show again. If I get on maybe I can meet Coach. Because you see, unfortunately I now have a crush on him.

Question: You a fan? If yes, who was your favorite? Do you think Coach and I would make a good pair?

3D, Schmeee D

During the ’80’s when everyone else was buying CD players and selling off their turntables at garage sales, I was a holdout for records. I didn’t want the tiny, frustrating to open CD’s. And I also didn’t want to start my music collection all over again. I mean, I had been through it all before with 8-tracks and cassettes. But Albums were my favorite and they had lasted through the switch over with both types of tapes so I figured they weren’t going anywhere. The last one I bought before I finally gave in was Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Loved it, loved her. Now I find her a bit scary.

Another holdout for me has been 3D movies. I remember going to them over 20 years ago with the paper glasses that never stayed on and tickled my nose. I never even saw Avatar in 3D. Even though everyone was saying, “Oh you have to see Avatar in 3D. It’s soooo much better,” I never gave in to the 3D phenomenon. That is until last Friday night. I, along with two adult friends and their combined five children, went to see Hugo in 3D. It was also available in 2D or regular D, whatever it is called, but we opted for the 3D because it was showing at the best time.

It seems that a high percentage of recent movies are available in 3D and I think I know why. It’s not because it makes it so much more exciting. No, it’s because they charge an extra $3.50 for the luxury. After two and a half hours of Hugo in 3D all I can say is, “I want my money back.”

The movie was cute and all but not worthy of spending my evening wearing stupid, annoying glasses just to see the images in a way that makes me want to reach my hand out and touch them. Which, by the way, brings about teasing from those around you if you do. I could see it if it was an action packed movie, but it wasn’t. Hugo is basically a movie where a little boy goes around winding up clocks in a train station. Well, actually it’s more than that but I don’t want to ruin it for anyone.

And, since I know it’s just a movie and not real life, I don’t really need the added 3D effect. It doesn’t enhance my movie going experience enough to make me want to spend an additional $3.50 to an already expensive evening, what with the markup on popcorn and coke.

And why the glasses? On Survivor the other night, they showed the remaining tribe members a phone with 3D you could see with the naked eye. So, if technology allows it on a tiny phone, why not on a big movie screen?

Question: 3D or regular D?

Jack Reacher Part II

So I heard back from lots of Reacher fans regarding the casting of Tom Cruise for the upcoming movie. And Twitter is all a buzz, or a twit, over the news.

I also found that fans weren’t just upset over the casting of Tom Cruise for this movie, but the whole idea of Tom in any movie is distasteful to them. And here I thought it was just me.

Other suggestions for Jack are:

Liam Neeson: Yes, yes and yes. He was quite “Reacherly” in TAKEN.

Hugh Jackman: Wouldn’t be my choice, but…

Jeffrey Dean Morgan: Oh my yes.








It’s funny how I can get so smitten over a fictional character. But, he’s a bad boy; wounded, dark and mysterious.  AND, emotionally unavailable. Just my type.

Question: Any more suggestions for our beloved Jack Reacher?

Happy Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving. Or to be more exact, today was Thanksgiving. I was in charge of all things potato: mashed and sweet. And when I say sweet, I mean sweet. Every ingredient I put in nullified any nutritional value in the sweet potato. I was going to go the healthy route but my niece requested my casserole with the mashed up sweet potatoes mixed with sugar, brown sugar, butter and other fattening things with a mixture of brown sugar and walnut yumminess on top.

I began the day with brunch at my place with a few friends. Stuffed Baked French Toast topped the menu. It was a fun way to begin the day. When I got home from dinner with my family this evening I felt like I had either been cooking, eating or washing dishes all day. But that’s okay. I enjoyed every minute.

My oldest sister Robin, the family historian, likes to make cards and scrapbook. She greeted everyone with a nice Thanksgiving card and poem. My other sister, Chrystal, you know the one who left me stranded with pancreatitis :), likes to play games. She had everyone write down a few things they were thankful for and then we had to guess who wrote them.

Most of the thankful notes mentioned family and friends. One said chocolate. And no, that one wasn’t me. I said I was thankful for my family, friends, that I had a job and a place to live.

This has been a very difficult past six months for me, but I am not complaining. God is good and I am grateful. Very grateful. Forever grateful.

Hope you had a wonderfully thankful Thanksgiving.

Question: How did you spend your Thanksgiving?

Jack Reacher

 

I am interrupting time with my boyfriend to write this post. Well, he’s actually not my boyfriend, nor is he even real. He is a character in the book I’m reading.

His name is Jack. Jack Reacher. Lee Child, the author, has created a character loved by both men and women. Men want to be him and women want, well, they want him. All 6 foot 5, 220 pounds of him.

Several of my female friends are also fans of Jack. But they’re married so they know he’s mine. Recently, one of these friends gave me an article about the series. It said the series has been so successful they are making a movie of one of the books. I was excited to read on and see who would play Jack in the movie. I had conjured up such a wonderful image in my mind I knew they would have to come up with a new, unknown actor to play him because no current actor that I knew of would fit the bill.

The closest I could come to would be to combine Harrison Ford, who I love, love, love and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Harrison’s face and Dwayne’s body would be the perfect Jack Reacher, in my humble opinion.

But sadly, they went for a big name, obviously to sell tickets to people who haven’t even read one of the books, without thinking of us true Reacher fans. I can’t even bring myself to write the actor’s name. It’s, it’s…wait for it…Tom Cruise.

Now, I loved Top Gun, and he had me at hello in Jerry McGuire, but ever since he thought it was appropriate to turn the Peter Graves character in Mission Impossible into a bad guy I have found it difficult to go to any of his movies. Granted the recent one with Cameron Diaz, Knight and Day (“With me, without me, with me, without me"), was an exception, but not much other than that.

I don’t even hold the Oprah couch jumping incident against him. It’s just that, well, he’s short. Short is not bad, it’s just not tall. And Jack, my Jack, is 6’5”. I’m sorry, but if I know the actor in my movie is standing on a bench to appear taller, then he shouldn’t have been cast. And Tom, you should not have been cast.

I guess I shouldn’t get too worked up about it. Lee Child isn’t concerned that his lead is a foot shorter than the character. He said in the article all the fans of the books still have their own image of Jack. So, I guess I will keep the image to myself and not go to the movie.

See you Thursday. Gotta get back to my boyfriend.

Question: Do you think I will cave and go see the movie anyway?

From Here to Maternity

I have been to the maternity ward of many a hospital visiting friends and their newborns. I have also been blessed to see a friend’s child actually come into this world while in a maternity ward. But never in my unmarried, childless life have I ever been a patient in a maternity ward. That is until now.

Monday I told you about my ER visit last August. Well, when Nurse Sheryl found out the next day that I had not been admitted to have my gall bladder removed she was appalled. She said, “But you threw up in front of EVERYONE; the triage nurse, the nurses back in ER, the doctor, EVERYONE! She assured me at HER hospital they would have done surgery that night.

Instead, my lovely insurance plan hooked me up with a surgeon that was booked out until mid-October. So, for the following two months, I was very careful (for the most part) about what I ate. I had a few smaller attacks during the wait but they just suggested more Vicodin. It never helped and just made me nauseous. It made me wonder how folks get addicted to that drug. I was hoping for at least a little buzz or something! But nothing.

Back in the ER, five days shy of the scheduled surgery, I did my duty and threw up in front of EVERYONE again. Sheryl would have been so proud. This time I was admitted. I got to my room around 4:00 a.m. and was sleepy as well as in a pain med fog, but I was really impressed. My private room was huge and had a bed for my friend to sleep in. I felt so fortunate to be in a five star hospital. It was only later that I found out I was actually in the maternity ward because there was no room at the inn for me down in the regular surgical ward.

The only thing worse about the teasing I received from being in the maternity ward was that it was right next door to the psych ward. I was either scandalizing the church by getting myself knocked up or finding my rightful home among the rest of my crazy peers.

I always thought if I was in tremendous pain while in a maternity ward I would at least get to come home with a baby. But instead, I was the proud mommy of a gallbladder. I was also the proud mommy of a very angry pancreas that kept the surgery at bay for a few days. (A nasty gall stone got loose and lodged itself in the duct leading to my pancreas. That’s not a good thing!)

People always say that hospital stays are very annoying. I did not find that to be the case. I LOVED my nurses, CNA’s and even my phlebotomists. They say you can never get any sleep while you’re in the hospital because they are always coming in and checking your vitals, etc. I didn’t mind. And the bed was soooo comfortable.

When I got back home I thought to myself, “Where is the button that makes my bed go up and down? This bed sucks!” I also missed my nurses. “It is two o’clock in the morning and I have absolutely no idea what my blood pressure is. And can anyone tell me what my oxygen level is please?” I missed being fussed over.

So I was pampered for five days in my first hospital stay. I eventually made it down to the regular wing, but I will always remember my stay in maternity!

Question: Have you ever stayed in the hospital? Was your experience pleasant? (Other than the whole pain or illness reason for being there in the first place.)

A Sister in Need is a Sister in Deed

This past August 8, a Monday evening, at approximately 7 pm, aliens invaded my body, lit a campfire and shot each other with darts causing me the worst pain and nausea I have ever experienced.  Having grown up with a sensitive stomach I’ve spent many an hour vomiting after consuming rich or high fat foods.  Since I am not Jerry from Seinfeld or Ted from How I Met Your Mother I have no proud record of how long it has been since the last time I vomited.  It has happened all too often during my lifetime.

But as I was puking up my toes for the 3^rd time that evening, I said to myself, “Something is worse this time, but how handy it is that my sister lives just upstairs.  I shall give her a call and have her drive me to the emergency room.”

So I called.  And called.  And called again.  Her car was in the driveway so I assumed she was home.  I went to her front door and rang the bell.  And rang.  And rang again.  And cried.  And through up some more.

Then I remembered she was attending the Bible Study next door.  So I went, shaking and sweating with puke bowl in hand, and knocked and opened the door.  “I need Chrystal,” I sobbed.  “She’s not here tonight.  What’s wro…?”  But before their final words were spoken I was headed back to her front door for one last try.  Ring, ring, ring.  Still nothing.

Sheryl a nurse friend of mine lives nearby and I gave her a call.  She arrived in no time and I was on my way to the hospital.  Yea Sheryl.

They took me right in and gave me some morphine.  Hmm…Strange sensation intravenous drugs.  You can actually feel it ooze through your body with an, “I can see why people do this recreationally,” thought or two as it does.  Alas, this first dose helped only slightly, but enough for me to lie still.  I had to wait before they could give me more.  After a couple of hours, I suggested Sheryl call another friend, Linda, to tag team with her.  Linda didn’t have to work the next day and I wanted Sheryl to get some rest.  Linda arrived and Sheryl went home.  But not before reminding the nursing staff I needed my fluids bag replaced and that it was time for my next round of morphine.  It’s great to have a nurse for a friend.

Being in a pain meds haze I can’t remember exactly when Chrystal texted but I do remember the content.  It went something like this:  “Hey, what ya doin’.  I’m in the backyard on the trampoline.  It’s a beautiful night.  Come out and enjoy it with me.”  I handed the phone to Sheryl, or was it Linda at that point, don’t know.  Whoever it was called her and told her where I was. 

Turns out Chrystal had been upstairs in her bedroom the entire time, with the air conditioner on causing her not to hear the phone or doorbell. 

I will have to share the ins and outs of the reasons why they didn’t take my gallbladder out that night and why I had to wait two months for the surgery in Thursday’s post.  But fast forward from August 8 to October 14…

Around midnight the Friday night before my scheduled surgery on the following Tuesday, the aliens were back and I wound up on the bathroom floor again.  This time it was much worse and I felt pain in the same place as well as just to the left and in my back.  So, once again, I called my sister upstairs; no answer.  She was obviously sleeping with her phone off.  I had texted her a few hours earlier telling her I wasn’t feeling well and received no answer then as well.  So, wasting no time, I called my friend Dawn, waking her up, and cried, “Make them TAKE IT OUT!!!”  She couldn’t quite tell what I was saying because I was crying so badly, but she assumed what was happening and made it to my house. 

Waiting for Dawn to arrive, I christened my sister’s front yard. 

I shall share the details of my health issues and hospital stay in Thursdays post as well. Fast forward to my first day back at work two weeks later…

“And thank you, Lord,” prayed my principal Mr. Whittlesey, “that Dana is blessed to have her sister living just upstairs to help her out in times like these.”  Seriously?  Of course, after the Amen I had to share the real story.

Chrystal really is a great sister and feels guilty she didn’t know I needed help, but that doesn’t make it any less fun to tease her about this.

Question:  Are you a “Jerry” or “Ted” and have a non-vomit record going?  Or are you more like me?

Basement Dweller Thanks

I started thinking about my house the other night.  I was missing it but decided I couldn’t let my mind wander east 7 miles.  So I stopped and decided to count my blessings and think on all the good things of where I am now.  Being a basement dweller is working out fine.  Now do I step out and say it is working out fine “for now” or just keep saying it is working out fine.  Because it is.  But I do miss my house.

I am happy here.  There is far less to clean here than in my house.  Actually, there is just as much cat hair to clean up it is just in a more concentrated area. 

Also, my sister lives just upstairs.  You would think that would be handy but will come to find out differently in a future post.

Living within walking distance of where I work has saved me money on gas.  And when I recently had a flat tire I didn’t have to rush to get it fixed.  Funny thing, nobody mentioned to me it was looking low…

I met my renters the other day.  I have a property management company that handles most things but the renters wanted me to come out and discuss the yard.  I was happy to do so.  I was especially happy to do so when they said they liked doing yard work and just wanted my okay with what they were doing.

They had painted my bright “hello I’m yellow” guest room to a softer, more easier on the eyes sage green.  Much, much better.  That yellow was a bit harsh no matter how hard I tried to soften it.

They have a beautiful dog.  Can’t remember what kind, but just picture a sweet checkerboardy looking hound dog that would love chasing squirrels and the like through a field.  Unfortunately he just has my bark dust 10x 20 ish side yard to romp.  I think even Mary and Martha would like him.

I know God provided this apartment for me at just the right time.  It was available a year ago but I wasn’t quite ready.  If I had moved in then I think I would have grieved not being in my house instead of just missing it from time to time.

So for now, or longer, I am content, and thankful, to be a basement dweller.  God’s timing is best.

Question:  Are you content and thankful?

A Hot Single Turns 40

I am back at my blogging post after a brief hospital stay and recovery.  Thanks for being patient and mentioning that you missed me!

Me and Amy at her 40th Birthday
Camping Trip.

Amid fits of laughter my intensely beautiful and surprisingly funny friend waves her arm across the air like a banner and announces, “Aaaaaamy’s Fuuun and Faaaabulous Fortieth Frieeeends and Faaamily Festiiiivitiiies!!!!!”   Whee!  It became our mantra for the past few weeks looking forward to the camping trip celebrating Amy saying goodbye to her thirties. 

I say “intensely beautiful” because the men in Italy could not get enough of her.  She was even kissed by our very first waiter in Rome.  I was watching him throughout our meal and suspected he felt a little hubba hubba for our Amy.  My suspicions were confirmed when he wanted to personally escort her to the restroom, which upon her return is when he planted a juicy one on her cheek.  She was also hit on by a leather store owner as well as eyed up and down by any male with a heartbeat as she passed by. 

And she’s “surprisingly funny” because of the stereotype that beautiful women aren’t funny.  Well she is.  Funny in a sneaky, hee hee, sort of way.

Amy is a kindred spirit to me.  We both made it to 40 by “never finding a man who could stand to be as deliriously happy as we would make him.”  We are the special kind of SingleMinded people that know, though being married would be a wonderful thing, we don’t have to wait for a walk down the aisle for life to happen.

I watched her with the children of her friends attending the, “Aaaaaamy’s Fuuun and Faaaabulous Fortieth Frieeeends and Faaamily Festiiiivitiiies,” and knew she was making an impact on young lives.  I saw the respect and admiration of the husbands in attendance knowing she had built in handymen, heavy-thing-lifters and advice-givers when needed.

I also know she has a lover of her soul that fills the gap.

Being singleminded, when done well, can be Faaabulous when you have great Frieeeends and Faaamily for Fuuun Festiiivitiiiies!

Question:  Do you have an Amy in your life?

I'm a Sicko

Hello Dear Blog World Friends,

Sorry I haven't posted anything for a bit.  And between having no internet at home and not being able to go to work because of a silly internal organ that is misbehaving, I won't post again until early November.

I look forward to having my life back to normal.  Normal??

With Love From Your SingleMinded Friend,
Dana

Who is in Your Flock?

John 10: 1-5   “I tell you the truth, the man who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in by some other way, is a thief and a robber. ² The man who enters by the gate is the shepherd of his sheep. ³ The watchman opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. ⁴ When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. ⁵ But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.”

My other “hat” at school this year, in addition to my music teaching gig, is being an aide in the a.m. Pre-Kindergarten class.  Now, having been a teacher for many years I can honestly say that 4 year -old children are my least favorite age to teach.  My favorite would be 3^rd or 4^th graders.  They are old enough to know how to do things but young enough to not give you attitude because they know how to do things.

Students in Pre-K can hardly walk without falling over let alone walk in a straight line down the hall without crashing in to at least 5 or 6 other children in the process.  I keep telling the head teacher, Mrs. Sloan, it’s a good thing they are cute because if one more of them makes a break from the middle to the head of the line I’m gonna freak-out. 

We have two preciously adorable Asian girls in our class.  One speaks virtually no English and the other has enough vocabulary to get by.  She knows things like, “No.”  She is really good with that word.  Their mothers are the epitome of Asian beauty: flawless complexion and petite little bodies.  I hate them.  They are very soft spoken and watching their little daughters you would think they would be as well.  But, not to stereotype, there has got to be an elderly grandmother living with them.  The little girls will be working quietly, then turn their head towards us and holler out, full force, “TEACHA.  TEACHA.”  “My name is Miss Dana, may I help you with something.”   “TEACHA.  TEACHA.”  “Yes, we’ve established I’m your teacher, Miss Dana, what do you need?”  “TEACHA.  TEACHA.”  This goes on all morning.

On the fourth day of school we discovered one little boy REALLY wants to finish his projects.  It doesn’t matter if it is time to clean up or not, he REALLY, REALLY wants to finish what he was doing.  Or, as he very emphatically told me, over and over, “I.  Want. To.  Fini.  Shit.”  It was all I could do to keep from using my own expletives back at him, but since I’m a professional I refrained.  Not to mention it is a Christian school.

Another little girl was saying good-bye to her friend at pick up time but her friend didn’t see her open-hug-expectant-arms.  Her bottom lip began to quiver at the over-sight so I ran over and offered her a hug.  She looked up at me and smiled and I asked her if she knew my name.  “It’s Mrs. Sloan.”  I said, “No that’s the other teacher.  I’m Miss Dana.”  Her mom laughed and said her daughter had told her that her two teachers were Mrs. Sloan and Mrs. Slawn.  She was glad to clear up the confusion.

Well, my students may not know my name but they do know my voice.  The gospel of John says:  He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.  When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. I keep that verse in my head every morning.  When they look back at their Pre-K experience, I don’t care if they remember my name, but I do hope they remember my voice.  A voice that spoke kind words of love over them daily.  A voice that encouraged them to keep trying and do their best even if the task is difficult.  I want them to remember someone who thought they were the greatest kid ever even in the midst of being corrected.

Isaiah 40 says:   Lift your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these?

He who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name.

Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.

Not one of them is missing.  I may not have children of my own, but God has entrusted me with these 16 kids this year.  Mrs. Sloan and Miss Dana will treat His creations with care…even if it kills us!!