I'm Feeling a Little Molested

This past weekend, I noticed my motion detection security light was out.   I didn’t bug Ole Boy to replace it.   I’m not sure it would have made a difference…

At some time last night, between the hours of nightfall and sunrise, someone got into my car and took what they wanted.   They left a small mess for me to clean up.   One thing they took was Ole Boy’s adapter, which was a handy little thing to have on trips.   All my change is gone…only about $5.00.   I’m not sure what else they took yet.   They left my camera battery and charger…go figure!   Thankfully, I didn’t have much in my car, and they didn’t permanently mess it up.     

Usually I lock my doors.   There are times when I don’t.   I didn’t last night. (I’ll try a little harder to never let that happen again!)  I just really didn’t ever think about someone getting in my car, so I haven’t been diligent to lock my doors.  Ole Boy always locks his.

I ask God every night to protect our lives and our property, our things; then, I run down a list of my family and friends asking for the same thing for them.   I was blessed last night.    There is no need for me to ask God why He let this happen after my asking for protection.   It could have been so much worse.    At any given time, my phone, my camera, my change purse with my whole life (license, debit/credit cards) could be in my car (not so much after last night!).   All of that was safely in my house.   I have to say, “safely in my house” isn’t feeling quite as safe as it felt yesterday.

Although I don’t think God was trying to teach me anything here…I need to work on trusting God.   Right now, I want a security system.  Isn’t that a silly reaction to a few small things taken from my unlocked car? 

That's Not God...

You can make your choices.

You can’t choose the consequences.

V  If you marry the man all your friends and family begged you to leave alone, when it falls apart, that’s not God trying to teach you endurance.  

V  If you’re in a hurry and you get a ticket going 50 mph in a 35 speed limit zone, that’s not God trying to teach you patience.

V  If you are exposed abusing your position and are publicly embarrassed, that’s not God trying to teach you humility.

V  If you spend time complaining about your job and being critical of your coworkers, when you lose your job, that’s not God trying to teach you to trust Him.

V  If you compromise your health by letting your appetite get out of control and have to go on a strict diet, that’s not God trying to teach you self-control.

V  If you get caught gossiping and people all around are mad at you, that’s not God trying to teach you to love your enemies.

V  If you slap-hazardly do your project, and it has to be done over causing you twice as much work, that’s not God trying teach you perseverance.

V  If you elect ungodly people to run your country, and the economy takes a nose dive…that’s not God…He most likely is standing back and watching you try to do it without Him.

Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap.   Galatians 6:7

ABC's of My Town D-E-F

Dogwood Bloom

Chicken and Egg Festival

Dancers

Engine

Leiper's Fork Bluegrass Group

Flowers 

I realize it's late in the day for this D-E-F posting....but if you'd like to play along, just post your pictures in your blog (or Facebook) and add your name to Mr. Linky so we can visit.

Finally Friday

I have finally figured out how to get Ole Boy’s real opinion.    Like many new discoveries, I happened upon it accidently.   Yesterday morning while drying my hair, I realized I hadn’t rinsed the conditioner out of my hair.   (That could be a whole different blog for a whole ‘nother day.)    I had two choices:   Get back in the shower and start all over or deal with it.   As it was less than 10 minutes before time to leave, I dealt with it.

On the way out the door, I said, “I think I forgot to rinse the conditioner out of my hair.”   He looked up and said, “Yeah, you are a little frizzy today!”

The normal response to any question about my hair or clothes is, “Yes, you look fine!”  Which, to me, is the equivalent of the ever-sarcastic “yes, Dear” response.  The “fine” answer is sometimes given without his even taking a look.    So, in order to get a true opinion, I must remember to not ask directly, but to make an off-handed remark, and he will feel safe enough to critique.   (Meaning, of course, that I won’t throw myself on the floor and wail in despair because of his requested feedback.)

Photo challenge reminder!

I plan to post mine tomorrow.   It’s supposed to be a beautiful day, and I have already started putting the bug in Ole Boy’s ear for us to go play.   If you want to participate, you can post a picture for any or all letters.  Tomorrow, I’m going to try and use Mr. Linky for an easy way to join…we’ll see how that turns out.

I’m thinking about making a list.   The Brownie List.    Not the same thing as Brownie points, mind you.   I need to think it through a little more…don’t want to get abusive, you know.   ::::heheh::::

High Fiving Jesus

Monday was a stormy, dreary day.    I hate storms!   

When I got home from work, I thought the storms were over, and I started cooking spaghetti.   Sauce was going, water was boiling…and I realized there were no noodles!    Looking all around, I finally found a box of rotini, and tossed it in the water.    Do you have any idea what happens when you have boxed pasta in your cabinet for a long time?    I do…now.  I sent Ole Boy to the store for some proper noodles, and as he came back, another storm rolled in.   

I was trying to keep up with Dancing with the Stars (that old porn show!) while fixing the spaghetti, and Ole Boy decided the TV needed to be turned off during in the storm.   I was slightly irritated.   Then, as I’m trying to put the finishing touches on dinner, he throws a handful of crumbs into my lunch bag.   I yelled at him, and stomped off leaving him to eat alone.   Obviously, I was only punishing myself with this maneuver, as it was already nearing 8 p.m. because it took so long to fix the spaghetti, and I was pretty hungry.   I snuck back in the kitchen and gobbled some dinner when he was finished.

On Tuesday, I took my daughter and the boys to Birmingham to the Children’s Hospital for their annual visit with the hematologist.   I knew Ole Boy was mad when he left without saying anything to me.   I figured I’d get him back, and I sent him an email as I was leaving that said, “If something happens to me today, don’t feel bad about not speaking to me this morning.”   Then as I got in my car, I realized he had beat me to it by leaving me a voice mail telling me to be careful an hour before!

On the way to Birmingham, I told Les about the night before.   With Les, you have to share her attention with whomever she is texting at the time.   When I told her I’d yelled at Ole Boy for throwing crumbs in my lunch bag, she said, “That was kind of rude.”    I didn’t know if she was talking about Ole Boy and his crumbs or someone who texted her, so I asked her which one.   She said, “You!   Mom, if that was all I had to deal with, I’d just high five Jesus.”

Monday Musings

Dear Olive Garden:

You never fail to disappoint.

Dear Lady:

You named your poor daughter “Delicious.”  I listened to her repeatedly answer the phone, “Thank you for calling Ramada Inn, this is Delicious.  How may I direct your call?”  

Dear Nancy:

The cat is out of the bag.  Gina told on me for mentioning Mom’s temper.  ::::looking around::::  Since we are out in the open, I think I can be brave and give you an example.   Once, my brother was sitting in the floor putting on his shoes, and he was steady sassing her.   Mom was at the stove with a butcher knife, peeling potatoes. (She used that knife for everything!)  Steve wouldn’t shut up, and she finally reached her high-water mark.   She whipped that knife around and popped him on the head with the big wooden handle.   He shut up.    ::::snicker::::

Dear Mom:

I never did figure out how you were able to drive a straight line and still reach in the back seat and…uhm…make my brothers and sisters straighten up and fly right.  (I was in the front seat behaving…always behaving.)

Dear Young Mothers of children everywhere:

When kids in the back seat start singing, “Someone fell out of the car!  Someone fell out of the car!”  It’s probably a good idea to check the rearview mirror for one of your own.   It can happen.  Just ask my mom.  

Dear Children of Young Mothers everywhere:

Don’t beat your fork and knife on the dinner table in unison while chanting, “Grub!  Grub!  We want Grub!”   It pushes a mom way past her high water mark.   Ask any of my brothers or sisters.  

Dear America:

How about these current events?  Wars and rumors of wars…earthquakes in diverse places… Don’t forget to pray!

Beware of what you do...it comes back to you!

Several years ago, when I still worked for Mr. Big, I got a phone call.  The man on the other end identified himself as an officer with the local police department.   He told me that my daughter had been arrested for “stabbing her husband in the buttocks” with a pair of scissors.   The officer gave me a detailed description about the incident, and assured me that no drugs were involved. 

The kid and her then-hubby did have a rather volatile relationship, and Les does have a temper…but I was a little shocked.  That kind of violence wasn’t like her.  Of course, in my head I was blaming her hubby…you know, what had he done to provoke her this way?!  While I trying to figure out what to do, getting a little frantic…wondering how to keep her out of jail, I asked about the baby…little Devon.   According to the man, Devon had been picked up by social services.

At that point, Les would just have to stay in jail.  I was going to have to get the baby!    I asked the man how to go about getting Devon…I heard voices in the background, and was finally told it was an April Fool’s joke.

Cruel, yes?

Fast forward about 4 years….the week of April first.   Les was pregnant for the third time.  The boys had been born 14 months apart.   Les was getting an ultrasound, and had invited me to come along.   We were going to find out if it was a boy or a girl!  I called the tech before the appointment, and explained to her that I owed Les a really good April Fool’s joke, and would she be willing to tell Les she was having twins?   She agreed.

During the ultrasound, the tech was craw-fishing on me.   She seemed to not want to tell Les she was having twins.   So, I pointed to the screen, and I said, “What’s that?   That looks like a second heart!”   She hesitated, and I said, “That looks like twins…is that a second baby?”   The tech made a few “er” and “uhm” sounds, which made Les think that she just couldn’t confirm but it must be true, and she was getting a little freaked.   Another funny factor, with these ultrasounds…they are done with a full bladder.   ::::insert wicked giggle::::

I leaned down to Les.  I said, “Do you remember….”  She said, “I don’t want to remember ANYTHING!!!”  I said…”Do you remember a few years back when you had the guy call and tell me he was a police officer?”  She just looked at me.   I said, “You remember that little April Fool’s joke, don’t you?”   She did.   I said, “April Fool!  There’s only one baby!”

:::insert another wicked giggle:::