Archive for February, 2010

Chocolate, Amoxicillin, and Slugs

Thursday, February 25th, 2010

No, I’m not one of the witches in Macbeth… though, you might deem me to be one, judging by such a list. I’ve felt that way many a time standing in the checkout line at the grocery store. Sweet pickles and liver? The cashier gives you one of those looks signifying they think you’re more than a little crazy. How about raw pork sausage and ice cream? Disgusting. Even if you aren’t planning on combining these things into a meal once you get home, they simply look bad together.

Walking up the stairs yesterday, to survey the rain-soaked field below, and take a few pictures, from the corner of my eye, I noticed a big leaf sticking to the side of the office. Wait… was it really a leaf? It seemed to be… moving? Yes, this large, dark green object was definitely in motion, and on an upward slither towards the top of the office. It was the slug of my dreams in the flesh. The intentions and devious plans this slug had in store for the whole of humanity once it got to the top, will be one of the secrets lost to history (and just what did King Kong intend to do after he scaled the Empire State Building?); for after jumping at the realization that I had almost brushed against a giant slug, I called Dad out to view the monstrous thing, and snapped a few pictures for posterity’s sake. The slug had slimed its last slime — Dad, aided with a paper towel, plucked up Sir Slug, told him to say his final prayers, then chucked him from the top of the hill, to the bottom, where he landed with an enormous PLOP in a very cold, very deep, and very muddy pool of water. Hence, this young slug met his pitiful end — heartlessly and mercilessly flung with violent force to sink helplessly to the depths of Lake Greenwood. And I laughed. Yes, watching this slug’s sober execution carried out, I laughed. My heart is cold and hard indeed.

IMG_0175

My doctor was very particular about the medicine he prescribed for me. Two ear infections, and a pretty red throat, were no small matter, and with much pondering, and deliberation, he wrote up a prescription for the best medicine that could be procured at Costco. Amoxicillin. All was well and good. But, I knew what the very darkest of old wive’s tales whispered of as the ultimate cure for colds. It’s hoarded like gold, and kept in secret stashes by half the world’s population, and bartered with by the other half. My own concealed supply is enough to carry me through this cold, and beyond. Chocolate, and ONLY dark chocolate at that, combined with my prescription of amoxicillin, have already been to this cold what a silver bullet is to a werewolf, and a stake in the heart is to a vampire. Already, this cold’s choking fingers have loosened their grip. Chocolate and amoxicillin is a potent cure indeed.

Coram Deo!

Angry All the Time

Tuesday, February 23rd, 2010

Why are these people angry all the time?

Maybe an obvious clue as to the Afghan’s stubborn resistance and retaliation to our military efforts would possibly be that we’re occupying their country unconstitutionally, and killing their civilians by the scores. No wonder Afghans are having a hard time believing that NATO and the U.S. Military are there to protect them, and are rejecting the “democracy” and freedom that’s being forced on them.

Of course, this latest airstrike doesn’t hold a candle to one that occurred in August ‘08 where 90 civilians, 60 of which were children, met their end.

Let’s just chalk it up to the cost of war. Apologies all around.

Coram Deo~

Care Not

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

“If I were fruitless, it mattered not who commended me, but if I were fruitful, I cared not who condemned.”

— John Bunyan

Coram Deo!

Synchronized Swimming

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

I love this Improv Everywhere group, and have seen several of their videos before… I about died laughing at the flabby swimmers, the music, and the fountain — it’s pretty lame entertainment, but it’s what cuts it as entertainment for me right now.

Coram Deo!

Discernment

Saturday, February 20th, 2010

I’ve grown sick of hearing the names of Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin, Mark Levin, Sean Hannity, and all the rest of their ilk, being touted as great conservative heroes of today… a few daily doses of Lew Rockwell, and you’ll pretty quickly start to recognize a bloodthirsty, Fascist, Neo-Conservative the next time you see or hear one, as they try to ride on the coattails of the Tea Parties, and try to whip up the so-called “Conservative Movement.” Here’s an easy rundown list for identifying a Neo-Conservative — A Neo-Conservative only differs from true liberals insofar as he is on the right side of the left instead of being on the left, according to Bret.

Coram Deo~

Purple Potatoes and Change

Saturday, February 20th, 2010

Today, we’re warding off boredom by preparing for houseguests… if he moves in here, and she moves out there, and they move up there, then everybody ought to be happy right? At least everybody will have a small degree of elbow room. :P

I’m just considering this a dry run for when we really have to get cozy and close-knit in another couple of months after moving out of part of the house for our remodeling project… four little boys will be squished into the library, one sister will be in my room, and one sister on another sofa. I love all my brothers and sisters, but I’m going to have to learn to be loving and patient with them to a considerable degree more as belongings and personal space are invaded over the course of the entire spring and summer. My current entertainment has been watching a CAT working right outside the windows. Whole mountains of red dirt are being moved from here, to there, and back again, in preparation for beginning building… I’m watching bittersweetly as familiar, old trees are felled, the hill is sliced and diced, and the driveway is disappearing beneath a smothering load of dirt. I’ve been told that these changes are for the better; the discomfort of moving is only temporary, and that everything will be new and glorious when it’s finished. I believe this to be true, but it doesn’t make watching all these changes taking place feel any less weird! So I light a candle and eat a chocolate to reassure myself that even if the exterior of our house and property are being changed and rebuilt, the foundations remain in place and will only be strengthened, not removed. I’m anticipating working and assisting with this project in whatever ways I can this spring and summer — which will mostly be by helping keep inquisitive, eager little boys from underfoot, and taking on the position of head gardener in our garden. I make a harsh taskmaster, and I plan on enlisting the help of whatever little slaves will be on hand.

In our current cooking flurry of planning dinners for today, and lunches for tomorrow, all the while catering to dietary restrictions for some people, it’s easy to overlook some of the food that has gone a little bad. Certain members of the family have now learned to beware eating putrid purple potatoes after a tragic encounter with one today at lunch… we made it up to the poor chap by feeding him three white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies, and saying three Hail Marys in succession. Just kidding about that last part. But I did feed him the cookies because I felt bad — my guilty conscience is now assuaged.

The dark is deepening overhead, the rain is upon us, and snow is threatening particular regions of the foothills, but it will be a happy time tonight with extra people around the dinner table, special music on the banjo, violin, and guitar, and two, cute little girls to play with.

Coram Deo!

O Oysters!

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

A goofy poem with a grain of truth — beware chitchat and walks by the sea with a walrus and carpenter, o oysters!

The Walrus and the Carpenter

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might;
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright–
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done–
“It’s very rude of him,” she said,
“To come and spoil the fun!”

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky;
No birds were flying overhead–
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand–
“If this were only cleared away,”
They said, “it would be grand!”

“If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,” the Walrus said,
“That they could get it clear?”
“I doubt it,” said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

“O Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A Pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach;
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said;
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head–
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat;
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat–
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more–
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low–
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax –
Of cabbages — and kings –
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried,
“Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!”
“No hurry!” said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

“A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said,
“Is what we chiefly need;
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed–
Now, if you’re ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.”

“But not on us!” the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
“After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!”
“The night is fine,” the Walrus said.
“Do you admire the view?”

“It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!”
The Carpenter said nothing but,
“Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite so deaf–
I’ve had to ask you twice!”

“It seems a shame,” the Walrus said,
“To play them such a trick.
After we’ve brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!”
The Carpenter said nothing but,
“The butter’s spread too thick!”

“I weep for you,” the Walrus said;
“I deeply sympathize.”
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter,
“You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none–
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.
:-)

— by Lewis Carroll

Coram Deo!

Bloomin’

Saturday, February 6th, 2010

Spring is on its way. Sort of. We’re still in the tight grasp of winter storms… but this is proof that they won’t last perpetually!

Yeah, I know, I’m a girl… I take pictures of the pretty flowers. Want to make something of it? ;)

Coram Deo!

Suppose

Friday, February 5th, 2010

We’ve all argued till we’ve been blue in the face with people, who, even though we make our arguments clear as crystal, and concise as we possibly can, simply cannot see the moon that is hanging in the heavens above their head, or feel the grass that they tread upon everyday, or grasp the simple sense of the truth we’re speaking — if you took them to a big, red barn, and pointed to the barn, they still would not see it. Yes, this unfortunate type of individual does walk upon the earth. And you know who they are in your life. And, oftentimes, the most exasperating part is that these people are fellow Christians.

The power for changing these individuals lies not in argument. Argument is a potent tool, when it is used by our Lord as such. But the cure lies in continued prayer for these individuals, and their blindness… the illumination of the Holy Spirit is the only illumination that will free them from their darkness and ignorance.

Here’s a poem to illustrate my meaning — spectacles and wise lectures aside, some people will still insist that travelers only tell monstrous lies!:

Suppose (when thought is warm, and fancy flows,
What will not argument sometimes suppose?)
An isle possess’d by creatures of our kind,
Endued with reason, yet by nature blind.
Let Supposition lend her aid once more,
And land some grave optician on the shore:
He claps his lens, if haply they may see,
Close to the part where vision ought to be;
But finds that, though his tubes assist the sight,
They cannot give it, or make darkness light.
He reads wise lectures, and describes aloud
A sense they know not, to the wondering crowd;
He talks of light, and the prismatic hues,
As men of depth in erudition use;
But all he gains for his harangue is — Well —
What monstrous lies some travelers will tell!

— William Cowper, The Poetical Works

Coram Deo~

Mish-Mash

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

Ringing ears. Sore throats. Pride and Prejudice. Coconut oil. The smell of sourdough bread baking. Bittersweet, silky smooth mochas. Black and white pictures. Tractors. Steep hills. Apocalyptic food movies. Achey bones. Piano music for Time After Time. The Adventures of Tintin. Bacon. Revelation. The wonderful feeling of hot soup as it travels down my throat. Singing lessons. Burnpiles. Homemade fettuccine. White wine. Béla Fleck. Lakes of mud. Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day.” This describes my life.

It’s a mish-mash.

I prescribe a square of dark chocolate to myself every day to stay happy. Some days, two. Though, I admit, I have little, little indeed to complain about. Scratch that. I actually have nothing to complain about. Even if I had to eat manna every day, God’s ears would not find it acceptable to listen to me grousing about eating manna again; could I have a side order of quail with that, please? For some reason, I find it easy to justify having a rotten, no-good attitude, so long as it doesn’t spill over into an action. I’m old enough now to fight the actions easy enough… but it’s nice to indulge in the attitudes every once in a while, or even every day, to make myself feel better. Temporarily. Unfortunately for me, God requires that I sacrifice even my attitudes to His refinement, and not indulge in my half-muttered, half-thought words and disgruntled, complaining attitudes. This, too, counts as sin, and I must slay it the same as I am fervently fighting to slay this blasted cold.