Thursday, August 2, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
Put A Little Love In Your Heart
Think of your fellow man
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little love in your heart
You see it's getting late
Oh please don't hesitate
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Another day goes by
And still the children cry
Put a little love in you heart
If you want the world to know
We won't let hatred grow
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Wait and see
Take a good look around
And if you're lookin' down
Put a little love in your heart
I hope when you decide
Kindness will be your guide
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Put a little love in your heart
Put a little love in your
Love in your heart
One of my little dogs is "special" we've always known that. She was born with only one eye but has some kind of tissue holding the place for the missing one and it looks weird. She has a few other quirks and we have gotten used to them.
Recently we have decided to empty our loft room (another story - that's kinda funny) Anyhoo we rearranged the furniture to take up half of the living room to make room for going through stuff from upstairs.
Background info sufficiently bored you?
Our other little dog, her brother, has always had trouble jumping - sometimes inbred pups have hip problems (we suspect he's his own grampa) so to help him get up we have a little stool. The stool has been working out fine for a couple years. Oh, there has been a few times when our granddaughter has used the stool and left it too far from the chair and we find him sitting on the stool in the middle of the room just staring at the abyss mystified that he used to be able to jump to the chair from this very stool.
Now she is having trouble jumping up. But will not use the stool. WILL NOT USE THE STOOL. It is as if she can not see it. Or worse like it is the reason she cant jump! Aaaagh!
So while I am thinking of my fellow man, and how I can give him a helping hand, I must put a little love in my heart for this dog with special needs and figure out how to get her to use the stool.
And here it is folks! The reason these two seemingly disconnected topics connect.
Sometimes a helping hand is a gift. Just handing someone in need that which they need.
They are broke - you hand them cash.
They are hungry - you give them food.
They are lonely - you visit them.
Sometimes a helping hand is sharing a tool they need. But tools are only helpful when used, and used appropriately. So at that point you may need to invest in some time to teach them how to use that tool. I suppose, if you yourself are unable to teach "tool 101" you should direct your fellow man to where they can find someone who can.
So while I am housebound - broken ankle, short story - I may just spend sometime teaching a special need doggy how to use a stool. You, on the other hand can choose to help your fellow man however you see fit.
May God bless you in your endeavors!
Thanks for reading, New Geri
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little love in your heart
You see it's getting late
Oh please don't hesitate
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Another day goes by
And still the children cry
Put a little love in you heart
If you want the world to know
We won't let hatred grow
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Wait and see
Take a good look around
And if you're lookin' down
Put a little love in your heart
I hope when you decide
Kindness will be your guide
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Put a little love in your heart
Put a little love in your
Love in your heart
One of my little dogs is "special" we've always known that. She was born with only one eye but has some kind of tissue holding the place for the missing one and it looks weird. She has a few other quirks and we have gotten used to them.
Recently we have decided to empty our loft room (another story - that's kinda funny) Anyhoo we rearranged the furniture to take up half of the living room to make room for going through stuff from upstairs.
Background info sufficiently bored you?
Our other little dog, her brother, has always had trouble jumping - sometimes inbred pups have hip problems (we suspect he's his own grampa) so to help him get up we have a little stool. The stool has been working out fine for a couple years. Oh, there has been a few times when our granddaughter has used the stool and left it too far from the chair and we find him sitting on the stool in the middle of the room just staring at the abyss mystified that he used to be able to jump to the chair from this very stool.
Now she is having trouble jumping up. But will not use the stool. WILL NOT USE THE STOOL. It is as if she can not see it. Or worse like it is the reason she cant jump! Aaaagh!
So while I am thinking of my fellow man, and how I can give him a helping hand, I must put a little love in my heart for this dog with special needs and figure out how to get her to use the stool.
And here it is folks! The reason these two seemingly disconnected topics connect.
Sometimes a helping hand is a gift. Just handing someone in need that which they need.
They are broke - you hand them cash.
They are hungry - you give them food.
They are lonely - you visit them.
Sometimes a helping hand is sharing a tool they need. But tools are only helpful when used, and used appropriately. So at that point you may need to invest in some time to teach them how to use that tool. I suppose, if you yourself are unable to teach "tool 101" you should direct your fellow man to where they can find someone who can.
So while I am housebound - broken ankle, short story - I may just spend sometime teaching a special need doggy how to use a stool. You, on the other hand can choose to help your fellow man however you see fit.
May God bless you in your endeavors!
Thanks for reading, New Geri
HARE AND NOO
I enjoy speaking with different accents.
Even more than I like to read them. Writing them so people can read them is a gift. My attempt at 'here and now' for the title, is meant to be low scottish. Atleast in my head.
I remember watching a Dharma&Greg episode where Dharma used a german accent and went shopping at the mall. If it didn't feel like lieing I would probably have SO much fun doing that!
I had a part in 'OKLAHOMA' when the music department presented it in high School. After that I had a difficult time not slipping into a drawl when I spoke. If I got excited I would add the 'L' in talk and walk. We did 'My Fair Lady' the following year and I could even add a drawl to the cockney accent. I would blame it on being born in Texas although that little fact had nothing to do with it. I learned to talk in the Pacific Northwest. As everyone here knows, we do not have an accent. ;)
I find it interesting that accents can say something about you. Much like the story line in My Fair Lady, how we talk affects how we are treated. Often how we behave as well.
I find that when I speak with a british accent ~ (which is actually a muddle of British - Irish - Scottish with a dash of foolish arrogance derived from American TV) ~ I automatically raise my chin a bit, and throw my shoulders back. No wonder they call it the Queen's english.
I am wondering about speaking more positively. I have thought about this before.
It isn't a new idea. I lived through a period of denying what I see with my eyes in order to bring about what I hoped for in my heart. I believe there is a balance in this but I could not seem to find it. When I denied I was sick, it then felt like lieing to ask for healing. When I miscarried I had no where to put the grief. The words of comfort from others: "It was just a bunch of tissue","you can have another one", sounded just like the words of an abortion counselor ~ it creeped me out a bit.
Words.
I do believe we must look for the bright side of things. I believe this deep inside my heart.
Can I find a new way to speak? Can I change my words? Day to day, I know it is possible. What if kindness was an accent? Think about it . . . if there was a country where the language used the same basic words as was familiar, but there was just an accent that "sounded" kind. Then I could just learn how they speak, sound the words out the way they do, mimic them. sigh.
That is probably why I love old movies. The language of the day was softer, more kind than our language is today.
Maybe, I mean manners.
Please, Thank you, You're welcome, Pardon me*; sweet sounding isn't it ?
I went to the funeral of a dear woman. It was exactly how I would want my services to be, and I said so to a fellow sarcasm artist who raised his eyebrows as if to say,"you?".
"Well, she was alot nicer than I am, but maybe I have time to . ." I tapered off. I am sure he has forgotten the moment - not me.
So, maybe I have time to change and maybe I don't but I have to try. So this is my plan:
~ Implement the use of 'mannerly' language. see above*
~ Put the feelings (& ears) of others first.
~ Hear (listen to, read) more kind words. (kind in = kind out)
~ Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. Phillipians 4:8,9
Even more than I like to read them. Writing them so people can read them is a gift. My attempt at 'here and now' for the title, is meant to be low scottish. Atleast in my head.
I remember watching a Dharma&Greg episode where Dharma used a german accent and went shopping at the mall. If it didn't feel like lieing I would probably have SO much fun doing that!
I had a part in 'OKLAHOMA' when the music department presented it in high School. After that I had a difficult time not slipping into a drawl when I spoke. If I got excited I would add the 'L' in talk and walk. We did 'My Fair Lady' the following year and I could even add a drawl to the cockney accent. I would blame it on being born in Texas although that little fact had nothing to do with it. I learned to talk in the Pacific Northwest. As everyone here knows, we do not have an accent. ;)
I find it interesting that accents can say something about you. Much like the story line in My Fair Lady, how we talk affects how we are treated. Often how we behave as well.
I find that when I speak with a british accent ~ (which is actually a muddle of British - Irish - Scottish with a dash of foolish arrogance derived from American TV) ~ I automatically raise my chin a bit, and throw my shoulders back. No wonder they call it the Queen's english.
I am wondering about speaking more positively. I have thought about this before.
It isn't a new idea. I lived through a period of denying what I see with my eyes in order to bring about what I hoped for in my heart. I believe there is a balance in this but I could not seem to find it. When I denied I was sick, it then felt like lieing to ask for healing. When I miscarried I had no where to put the grief. The words of comfort from others: "It was just a bunch of tissue","you can have another one", sounded just like the words of an abortion counselor ~ it creeped me out a bit.
Words.
I do believe we must look for the bright side of things. I believe this deep inside my heart.
Can I find a new way to speak? Can I change my words? Day to day, I know it is possible. What if kindness was an accent? Think about it . . . if there was a country where the language used the same basic words as was familiar, but there was just an accent that "sounded" kind. Then I could just learn how they speak, sound the words out the way they do, mimic them. sigh.
That is probably why I love old movies. The language of the day was softer, more kind than our language is today.
Maybe, I mean manners.
Please, Thank you, You're welcome, Pardon me*; sweet sounding isn't it ?
I went to the funeral of a dear woman. It was exactly how I would want my services to be, and I said so to a fellow sarcasm artist who raised his eyebrows as if to say,"you?".
"Well, she was alot nicer than I am, but maybe I have time to . ." I tapered off. I am sure he has forgotten the moment - not me.
So, maybe I have time to change and maybe I don't but I have to try. So this is my plan:
~ Implement the use of 'mannerly' language. see above*
~ Put the feelings (& ears) of others first.
~ Hear (listen to, read) more kind words. (kind in = kind out)
~ Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. Phillipians 4:8,9
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Killing Luigi
I am not a big "gamer".
I have not been very good at most video games.
I do remember an electronic football game coming out when I was in Junior college. It was handheld. It had these little red and blue lights that looked like dashes. The dashes were configured to represent offense and defense. I was pretty good at that by the male competitors I managed to SLAUGHTER! BWAHAHAHAHA!
But, alas, it wasn't Madden.
I remember playing Mario Bros/Duck hunt with my son when he was 3.
Three years old.
He couldn't tie his shoes yet.
He barely had the Velcro mastered.
I would sit down to play. Kill Luigi. He'd take a twenty minute turn. Then wake me up. I would take the controller. Kill Luigi. He'd yell, "Dad, mom's not playing right!"
I laugh now. But it hurt. So the first thing I tried was practicing when he wasn't around. Right, when is a three year old NOT around? And even when he wasn't around he could sense a disturbance in the force as soon as someone put the cartridge into the game console!
The next idea was to have another baby.Keep mama busy. It really was a great idea and it's worked out wonderfully, however, . . .it only kept me out of the game for so long. Then I learned: I needed to play games where I was playing against myself - like TETRIS.(WARNING I have long since suspected that the TETRIS music has some kind of hypnotic capabilities or that prolonged exposure could cause migraines)
Competing against myself, I could go for a high score instead of beating an opponent. Okay, I really don't know what difference that makes but I just don't do well with head to head competition. I wish that wasn't true. I judge it in myself as immaturity and have often hoped I would just grow up someday.
I still do.
Growing up requires a sort of unpacking at each level. I use the word level because it segways from video games nicely. It is not used as a higher-lower comparison as in: I am smarter, more spiritual or farther along than anyone.
I don't want to be too philosophical but sometimes material things hold you back and you have to let them go to move forward.
One time I had to sell my piano in order to have the full down payment on our next home. We were going to move one way or another but if I hadn't sold my piano - we would have been terribly crowded in the RV and deeper in debt. So to move forward "with peace" we had to let go of the piano.
Other times it's people.
******Reserve the right to refuse service to ANYONE******
I made vows to love ONE person for better or worse and it takes up most of my time energy and patience to keep THAT one set of vows. I didn't make a vow to the person who antagonizes me into debates on truth and mysticism and whether or not eating meat is murder. UGH!
We both know we DO NOT AGREE on these points but that is ALL they want to talk about so . . .
Seriously, I wish I could calmly debate and argue using scripture without my blood pressure getting whacked out, and supplying extra oxygen to the part of my brain that creates sarcastic remarks and cutting retorts. I dislike myself when I get like that.
It's like the incredible hulk - "I won't like me when I'm angry" or frustrated or sarcastic and bitter - Hey feel free to stop me!
If they need me I'll be here. If they call I'll answer the phone.
But I can't engage anymore.
Right now.
Then there are the people who break my heart. The ones that are walking into a burning house - and I can't stop them. I want so to convince them going in is a bad idea but I know anything I say will offend.
I will be here with burn salve. I will help rebuild the house.
But I can't watch it burn.
It seems at each area of growth in my life, I have had to leave friends behind in order to go to the next area. It isn't always the kind of leaving behind that is permanent. For example when many of my high school friends went away to college I made new friends and didn't keep in close contact with the high school gang as much. But when we all started getting married and having babies I was getting calls for showers, and parties, and asked to sing at a fair amount of weddings. Friendships were re-kindled and maintained.
Obviously, those are the happy endings.
I expect there are other un-friendings that will be permanent. I can't imagine not being a little sad about that.
So tonight I am inspired because I un-friended someone on FB. And it feels great!!!
Maybe I could fast and pray because, "this kind only comes out after much prayer and fasting" . It's not like that is impossible - I know we have people in our paths that drive us to our knees.
ALL I AM SURE OF is that I felt a peace today that I have not felt for a long time.
To help emphasize the point I am trying to make I want to share the following encouragement:
Stay focused, and refuse to be scattered through trying to take on more than you can effectively handle. Take the time necessary to establish yourself in peace and tranquility so that the enemy cannot find an inroad. Confusion and chaos are the devil's playground, but I have given you the peace that surpasses all natural understanding. Settle down in the emotional and mental stability that I have provided, says the Lord.
Philippians 4:7b and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
As my friend (and Pastor) Brian, says,
I have not been very good at most video games.
I do remember an electronic football game coming out when I was in Junior college. It was handheld. It had these little red and blue lights that looked like dashes. The dashes were configured to represent offense and defense. I was pretty good at that by the male competitors I managed to SLAUGHTER! BWAHAHAHAHA!
But, alas, it wasn't Madden.
I remember playing Mario Bros/Duck hunt with my son when he was 3.
Three years old.
He couldn't tie his shoes yet.
He barely had the Velcro mastered.
I would sit down to play. Kill Luigi. He'd take a twenty minute turn. Then wake me up. I would take the controller. Kill Luigi. He'd yell, "Dad, mom's not playing right!"
I laugh now. But it hurt. So the first thing I tried was practicing when he wasn't around. Right, when is a three year old NOT around? And even when he wasn't around he could sense a disturbance in the force as soon as someone put the cartridge into the game console!
The next idea was to have another baby.Keep mama busy. It really was a great idea and it's worked out wonderfully, however, . . .it only kept me out of the game for so long. Then I learned: I needed to play games where I was playing against myself - like TETRIS.(WARNING I have long since suspected that the TETRIS music has some kind of hypnotic capabilities or that prolonged exposure could cause migraines)
Competing against myself, I could go for a high score instead of beating an opponent. Okay, I really don't know what difference that makes but I just don't do well with head to head competition. I wish that wasn't true. I judge it in myself as immaturity and have often hoped I would just grow up someday.
I still do.
Growing up requires a sort of unpacking at each level. I use the word level because it segways from video games nicely. It is not used as a higher-lower comparison as in: I am smarter, more spiritual or farther along than anyone.
I don't want to be too philosophical but sometimes material things hold you back and you have to let them go to move forward.
One time I had to sell my piano in order to have the full down payment on our next home. We were going to move one way or another but if I hadn't sold my piano - we would have been terribly crowded in the RV and deeper in debt. So to move forward "with peace" we had to let go of the piano.
Other times it's people.
******Reserve the right to refuse service to ANYONE******
I made vows to love ONE person for better or worse and it takes up most of my time energy and patience to keep THAT one set of vows. I didn't make a vow to the person who antagonizes me into debates on truth and mysticism and whether or not eating meat is murder. UGH!
We both know we DO NOT AGREE on these points but that is ALL they want to talk about so . . .
Seriously, I wish I could calmly debate and argue using scripture without my blood pressure getting whacked out, and supplying extra oxygen to the part of my brain that creates sarcastic remarks and cutting retorts. I dislike myself when I get like that.
It's like the incredible hulk - "I won't like me when I'm angry" or frustrated or sarcastic and bitter - Hey feel free to stop me!
If they need me I'll be here. If they call I'll answer the phone.
But I can't engage anymore.
Right now.
Then there are the people who break my heart. The ones that are walking into a burning house - and I can't stop them. I want so to convince them going in is a bad idea but I know anything I say will offend.
I will be here with burn salve. I will help rebuild the house.
But I can't watch it burn.
It seems at each area of growth in my life, I have had to leave friends behind in order to go to the next area. It isn't always the kind of leaving behind that is permanent. For example when many of my high school friends went away to college I made new friends and didn't keep in close contact with the high school gang as much. But when we all started getting married and having babies I was getting calls for showers, and parties, and asked to sing at a fair amount of weddings. Friendships were re-kindled and maintained.
Obviously, those are the happy endings.
I expect there are other un-friendings that will be permanent. I can't imagine not being a little sad about that.
So tonight I am inspired because I un-friended someone on FB. And it feels great!!!
Maybe I could fast and pray because, "this kind only comes out after much prayer and fasting" . It's not like that is impossible - I know we have people in our paths that drive us to our knees.
ALL I AM SURE OF is that I felt a peace today that I have not felt for a long time.
To help emphasize the point I am trying to make I want to share the following encouragement:
SMALL STRAWS IN A SOFT WIND by MARSHA BURNS:
Stay focused, and refuse to be scattered through trying to take on more than you can effectively handle. Take the time necessary to establish yourself in peace and tranquility so that the enemy cannot find an inroad. Confusion and chaos are the devil's playground, but I have given you the peace that surpasses all natural understanding. Settle down in the emotional and mental stability that I have provided, says the Lord.
Philippians 4:7b and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Romans 12: 18 Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.
As my friend (and Pastor) Brian, says,
 |
| "Peace" |
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
VACATION
THE PLANE
Being over-weight causes many extra stresses when traveling. The aisles on a plane are small, narrow, and often crowded. If you are pulling a carry-on bag you must contort yourself into strange configurations in order to keep the wheels rolling smoothly. Then you must contort again to lift this bag above the heads of strangers (praying you do not drop it) into a luggage bin made for wallets not suitcases. Then once you have your bag hammered into place, you must crawl over someone to get to your seat either the center or the window - but most of the time the center. (I usually feel a bit like I committed adultery once seated)
The center is where you end up most of the time when you are overweight because this is where you will cause the most distress in the other passengers. The window passenger undoubtedly the bone thin vegetarian who hates sitting still for longer than 10 minutes at a time because it will alter their metabolism - will silently re-absorb any biological fluids because they know how futile it will be to ask the overweight person to move, causing the aisle person to move, clogging the beverage cart runway, just so they can get up to use the restroom. Both aisle passenger and window passenger refuse liquids to protect themselves from having to disturb the overweight passenger.
I hate having to ask for the extender for my seat belt. But I would die if they just handed it to me. That has never happened, thank God for that! The last time I flew, I just asked for it as discreetly as possible and went about my business like it didn't hurt my pride just shy of bleeding. This time after dropping 70lbs, I wasn't sure if I needed the extension or not.
Getting ready for the airport and for the trip itself has several considerations. Comfortable shoes, seasonally appropriate clothing, boredom prevention, make up, hair, liquid intake monitoring. Then all those considerations are modified in accordance with the TSA regulations to avoid embarrassment at the security check points. This was my first time through the X-ray. My new electronics earned me a personal encounter with a TSA agent. Sheesh. Live and learn - the agent told me how to avoid intimacy the next trip. Hey they are just doing their job, and I am glad they are - but sheesh.
While we were waiting at the gate they made an announcement that there were a few seats in first class available if any one in economy wanted to upgrade. by the time hubby got through the line there was only one seat left so he upgraded my ticket to first class. (Awwww) When I boarded and got in my seat I thought I wonder if the seat belts are different in first class - I tried to fasten it and I was able to just get it connected - but I was pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy the ride. So I asked for the extender. But I was happy to realize I only needed less than 2 inches to give me the comfort I needed. This maybe a small victory but I was excited.
I spent most of the vacation reading during the day, and going out for dinner with my hubby in the evening. The dinners were not lite, or fat free, or even small portions. However, they were delicious and having time with my sweetheart was wonderful.
We had a couple of busy days that included some walking - not much - but enough to make my feet swell and hurt. But mostly the vacation was rest and relaxation for me.
We had a bit of misadventure on the way home. Our flight was cancelled and we had to rebook another flight home. Barely making it on the last flight that day escaping the dreaded sleepover to fly out the next day. But, it was still 8hours in an airport where most of the seating outside the gate were either in restaurants or in front of slot machines. AAGH!
When we finally got aboard the plane, no first class this time, coach. Very coach. I mean there was nothing more "coach" on the plane! We were in seats so coach, they wouldn't lean back! Serving trays locked and seats in the upright position for 2 hours. But of course the row in front of us could put their seats back.
Yeah, you betcha.
But the real question was, "do I need the extender?" I was in the aisle seat - utopia for the overweight and tall people - I reached down to pull the right side of the seat belt up - carefully sliding my left hand down to gather the other end of the seat belt making a point of not obtaining carnal knowledge of the passenger in the center seat next to me. I pull the two pieces together and - VOILA!!!! Snap! together no need for the extender!!!
I don't know as of yet if I gained weight on this vacation, I may have. But what I do know is I did not need the extender on the way home. That means I have changed. I am a new Geri. And I am proud to celebrate changes - no matter how small!
UPDATE: I am excited to report that the scales did not change while I was on vacation enjoying myself. I wegh just what I weighed before I left! Yahoo!!!!
Being over-weight causes many extra stresses when traveling. The aisles on a plane are small, narrow, and often crowded. If you are pulling a carry-on bag you must contort yourself into strange configurations in order to keep the wheels rolling smoothly. Then you must contort again to lift this bag above the heads of strangers (praying you do not drop it) into a luggage bin made for wallets not suitcases. Then once you have your bag hammered into place, you must crawl over someone to get to your seat either the center or the window - but most of the time the center. (I usually feel a bit like I committed adultery once seated)
The center is where you end up most of the time when you are overweight because this is where you will cause the most distress in the other passengers. The window passenger undoubtedly the bone thin vegetarian who hates sitting still for longer than 10 minutes at a time because it will alter their metabolism - will silently re-absorb any biological fluids because they know how futile it will be to ask the overweight person to move, causing the aisle person to move, clogging the beverage cart runway, just so they can get up to use the restroom. Both aisle passenger and window passenger refuse liquids to protect themselves from having to disturb the overweight passenger.
I hate having to ask for the extender for my seat belt. But I would die if they just handed it to me. That has never happened, thank God for that! The last time I flew, I just asked for it as discreetly as possible and went about my business like it didn't hurt my pride just shy of bleeding. This time after dropping 70lbs, I wasn't sure if I needed the extension or not.
Getting ready for the airport and for the trip itself has several considerations. Comfortable shoes, seasonally appropriate clothing, boredom prevention, make up, hair, liquid intake monitoring. Then all those considerations are modified in accordance with the TSA regulations to avoid embarrassment at the security check points. This was my first time through the X-ray. My new electronics earned me a personal encounter with a TSA agent. Sheesh. Live and learn - the agent told me how to avoid intimacy the next trip. Hey they are just doing their job, and I am glad they are - but sheesh.
While we were waiting at the gate they made an announcement that there were a few seats in first class available if any one in economy wanted to upgrade. by the time hubby got through the line there was only one seat left so he upgraded my ticket to first class. (Awwww) When I boarded and got in my seat I thought I wonder if the seat belts are different in first class - I tried to fasten it and I was able to just get it connected - but I was pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy the ride. So I asked for the extender. But I was happy to realize I only needed less than 2 inches to give me the comfort I needed. This maybe a small victory but I was excited.
I spent most of the vacation reading during the day, and going out for dinner with my hubby in the evening. The dinners were not lite, or fat free, or even small portions. However, they were delicious and having time with my sweetheart was wonderful.
We had a couple of busy days that included some walking - not much - but enough to make my feet swell and hurt. But mostly the vacation was rest and relaxation for me.
We had a bit of misadventure on the way home. Our flight was cancelled and we had to rebook another flight home. Barely making it on the last flight that day escaping the dreaded sleepover to fly out the next day. But, it was still 8hours in an airport where most of the seating outside the gate were either in restaurants or in front of slot machines. AAGH!
When we finally got aboard the plane, no first class this time, coach. Very coach. I mean there was nothing more "coach" on the plane! We were in seats so coach, they wouldn't lean back! Serving trays locked and seats in the upright position for 2 hours. But of course the row in front of us could put their seats back.
Yeah, you betcha.
But the real question was, "do I need the extender?" I was in the aisle seat - utopia for the overweight and tall people - I reached down to pull the right side of the seat belt up - carefully sliding my left hand down to gather the other end of the seat belt making a point of not obtaining carnal knowledge of the passenger in the center seat next to me. I pull the two pieces together and - VOILA!!!! Snap! together no need for the extender!!!
I don't know as of yet if I gained weight on this vacation, I may have. But what I do know is I did not need the extender on the way home. That means I have changed. I am a new Geri. And I am proud to celebrate changes - no matter how small!
UPDATE: I am excited to report that the scales did not change while I was on vacation enjoying myself. I wegh just what I weighed before I left! Yahoo!!!!
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Juice
Hubby received a juice extractor for his birthday. So.....
First I got a whole lot of fresh vegetables. While I was at the store I was taking note of all the great juice options there are today, and wrote down the price of the healthier ones. Also, the cost of the fruits and vegetables that looked the best.
ThenI got overwhelmed looking at the full fridge, wondering how to make juice we would like the first time we tried it so I wouldn't be wasting anything because of some strange combination I thought would be delicious. After reading a friends post on facebook about juicing, with a link to Amazon.com and books on juicing I went click click click and I bought a kindle book on juicing.
Then after I read the book on juicing, I wondered why the author hadn't mentioned anything about the leftover pulp. Previously, I thought I could use it in recipes but there was no mention of it - so I went online to find out ideas on how to use the pulp.
The first things I saw suggested for using pulp had to do with pet treats and composting piles - NOT exactly what I was thinking. But as I read further there were ideas for using the pulp in recipes. Actually one of the uses was to add the pulp to the juice - just not all of it - to boost the fiber content. Another one was to add it to smoothies, again to boost the fiber content.
One of my main concerns was whether I needed to cook the pulp prior to adding it to baking recipes - what was suggested was just to add the pulp as is into the recipe, however, I would suggest just being careful to NOT allow large pieces of vegetables such as carrots to make it into the quick baking recipes(30min or less). They just won't get soft enough in short periods of time.
THE JUICER
I took it out of the box today. Yes it was his present. But HIS birthday was 3/31. It was time to let it out of the box. IT WAS TIME.
I prepared the 6 carrots and 1 apple and began to "fiddle" with the machine. After a little carrot stub popped up and hit me in the shoulder, I decided to read the manual. No it is not just men who read the manual as a last resort. I enjoy trying to figure things out but not getting hit with vegetables - it goes against my stage training.
I successfully made a cup of juice. And that little sip tasted wonderful. I decided I would save the juice for hubby WHO I expected to be home in just a few minutes - and use the pulp to make scones!
But when I went into the fridge a few minutes later the juice was starting to settle - so I decided I would use the juice as the liquid, instead of water, in the scone recipe.
So that was my juicer adventure and here is the recipe for my carrot scones.
CARROT SCONES
Cut strips of parchment paper
Juice approx. 6 carrots and 1 apple
Preheat oven to 375
1 box spice cake mix
2 cups baking mix
1 cup juice from juice extractor ( approx. 6 carrots, 1 apple)
1/2 cup of pulp from juice extractor
Put dry ingredients in large bowl.
Add liquid and pulp.
Fold mixture until all dry ingredients are moistened.
REGULAR SCONE SHAPE
Form two balls of dough. Place each ball on parchment and cut into eighths with wet knife. Brush with cream or milk.
MUFFIN SHAPE
Place strips of parchment in each muffin cup. Scoop 1/2 cup of dough over parchment strip in muffin cup. Smooth tops of scones with cream or milk.
Bake 25 minutes at 375
OPTION
While scones are hot spread with cream cheese frosting. Let cool.
Thanks for reading, New Geri
First I got a whole lot of fresh vegetables. While I was at the store I was taking note of all the great juice options there are today, and wrote down the price of the healthier ones. Also, the cost of the fruits and vegetables that looked the best.
ThenI got overwhelmed looking at the full fridge, wondering how to make juice we would like the first time we tried it so I wouldn't be wasting anything because of some strange combination I thought would be delicious. After reading a friends post on facebook about juicing, with a link to Amazon.com and books on juicing I went click click click and I bought a kindle book on juicing.
Then after I read the book on juicing, I wondered why the author hadn't mentioned anything about the leftover pulp. Previously, I thought I could use it in recipes but there was no mention of it - so I went online to find out ideas on how to use the pulp.
The first things I saw suggested for using pulp had to do with pet treats and composting piles - NOT exactly what I was thinking. But as I read further there were ideas for using the pulp in recipes. Actually one of the uses was to add the pulp to the juice - just not all of it - to boost the fiber content. Another one was to add it to smoothies, again to boost the fiber content.
One of my main concerns was whether I needed to cook the pulp prior to adding it to baking recipes - what was suggested was just to add the pulp as is into the recipe, however, I would suggest just being careful to NOT allow large pieces of vegetables such as carrots to make it into the quick baking recipes(30min or less). They just won't get soft enough in short periods of time.
THE JUICER
I took it out of the box today. Yes it was his present. But HIS birthday was 3/31. It was time to let it out of the box. IT WAS TIME.
I prepared the 6 carrots and 1 apple and began to "fiddle" with the machine. After a little carrot stub popped up and hit me in the shoulder, I decided to read the manual. No it is not just men who read the manual as a last resort. I enjoy trying to figure things out but not getting hit with vegetables - it goes against my stage training.
I successfully made a cup of juice. And that little sip tasted wonderful. I decided I would save the juice for hubby WHO I expected to be home in just a few minutes - and use the pulp to make scones!
But when I went into the fridge a few minutes later the juice was starting to settle - so I decided I would use the juice as the liquid, instead of water, in the scone recipe.
So that was my juicer adventure and here is the recipe for my carrot scones.
CARROT SCONES
Cut strips of parchment paper
Juice approx. 6 carrots and 1 apple
Preheat oven to 375
1 box spice cake mix
2 cups baking mix
1 cup juice from juice extractor ( approx. 6 carrots, 1 apple)
1/2 cup of pulp from juice extractor
Put dry ingredients in large bowl.
Add liquid and pulp.
Fold mixture until all dry ingredients are moistened.
REGULAR SCONE SHAPE
Form two balls of dough. Place each ball on parchment and cut into eighths with wet knife. Brush with cream or milk.
MUFFIN SHAPE
Place strips of parchment in each muffin cup. Scoop 1/2 cup of dough over parchment strip in muffin cup. Smooth tops of scones with cream or milk.
Bake 25 minutes at 375
OPTION
While scones are hot spread with cream cheese frosting. Let cool.
Thanks for reading, New Geri
Sunday, April 1, 2012
SURPRISE!!
MARCH 31st 2012
My dear husband turns 50 today.
Last year when I turned 50, we celebrated in a hospital. Not only did we celebrate my 50years, we were celebrating that I would never have uterine cancer. Nor would I ever have ovarian cancer. It was a wonderful celebration, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
This year, we are celebrating his 50 years. I wanted to do something wonderful for him. About a month ago I started inviting people to a surprise party. Never did I think that tonight, the day before, it would still be a surprise! I even cautiously made updates letting people know it was still a surprise! This week preparations were all set to move forward. Monday I had a Dr apt, but then the rest of the week had tasks spread out to make the to do list disappear easily and without getting overwhelmed.
I seriously had it all figured out.
Honestly, I made a list. I had it ALL figured out.
SO......Monday, I went out to the car to go to my Dr apt. yup. cross item 1 off the list. Yessiree.
Car will not start.
Yessiree, car will not start.
Well, it's only Monday, I'll just do some of my Tuesday stuff today and reschedule my apt.
My Tuesday stuff was cleaning up and putting away my granddaughter's happiness from the weekend. This happiness included a brand new feather boa.
I am allergic to feathers.
Yep. That's right.
So I spent the rest of the day sneezing. Of course, it had been so long since I was around feathers, I didn't even KNOW that the boa was causing all the sneezing, and itchy watery eyes and pluggy ears.
Ears. Yes, then came the call from the Audiologists. An apt opened up for a consult on hearing aid options. Not knowing if the car would be fixed I opted to take the early Tues morning apt which would allow me to take hubby to work and use the car if my car was still dead.
Suddenly TWO days are messed up instead of just one. But Geri, how did an early appointment mess up the whole day on Tuesday? This is how: sneezing all day automatically ruins the next day with headache, and/or drowsy allergy medicine. Not to mention how stinking depressing it is to have a hearing aid consult. Sheesh. Not only am I 51 married to a man still in his 40s for 12 more hours, I have to go pick out some hearing aides.
Oh and by the way, the car got fixed. I love that man!!!
So it's Wednesday. It is raining like, what we generally to refer to as: "cats and dogs". I know the neighbor is going to go nuts about people parking on his driveway when it has been raining. Not only that, but I hate the idea of my friends walking through the wet soggy grass to get to the house so that the hubster won't see their cars when he gets back from the wild goose chase "De jour" that I've sent him on prior to the big surprise. Anyhoo . . I send out an update to tell guests to just wait until 5:15pm and come on down OUR driveway. A slight compromise to the traditional surprise but still pretty impressive to be suddenly surrounded by friends wearing Hawaiian attire. You see it was billed as a "HAWAII FIVE-0" party.
Wednesday, the first cancellation comes in. Our son is not going to make it. He'll be in Cancun.
That's OK. I'd cancel for Cancun. No I wouldn't but . . I try to be understanding anyway.
Friday, three more cancellations. Normally, at this point of an event we are hosting I would talk to my best friend and discuss what changes need to be made now that the "pots" coming to the "pot luck" have changed. But guess who my best friend is? Right. And I can't talk to him about it.
I have errands to run. Hubby wants to use the smoker to impress his mother. So although I am cooking Hawaiian Chicken for a houseful, we are also smoking ribs. Gotta pick up ribs. Nothing will go to waste, we have a freezer. I just have to let him do this so he won't get suspicious. Also, on the errand list is the stuff for punch, cups and plastic cutlery, plates, table cloth, you know: party stuff. Stuff that was originally on the Monday list.
Friday night, cancellation five. OK. I am sure this kind of thing happens all the time. I do start to wonder: have I invited a good mix of people? And I didn't get all my housecleaning done, will I be too pooped tomorrow to make sure everyone is having a good time?(why do i think that is my job?) Oh my goodness, am I expecting too much help in the side dish area, now that there are so many cancellations? And well, that went on for quite some time. I can worry up a storm. Normally, I talk to my best friend and He is the logic to my whimsy, and we balance each other out.
At peak overwhelmedness, I get a text from a friend about a new movie on Netflix. Sure. I need to take another two hours out of my last day to prepare to watch a movie. Ok, let's just get it queued up for when I have time, she says it is really good. Let's see, little boy, troubles at home, Dad goes to Iraq, singing competition. Yes that sounds good. ok. add to Que.
or play.
and watch.
Just for a few minutes.
Ok. Crying. PAUSE. I get up and clean the bathroom floor. Sweep the dining room and start a load of clothes.
Play. Crying. PAUSE. I can't believe I have only been watching this movie for 37minutes and I have already cried twice.
Play. Crying. PAUSE. I am just going to tell Roland about this party and let go of all this stress. No I can't. Maybe it's not the way I thought it would be but: when is it ever?
I get up and clean the kitchen floor, and the counters with the new orange vinegar cleaner I learned how to make from pinterest. smile.
Play. Crying. PAUSE. I have to cancel. I wont tell the hubster, I'll just put out an update and he'll never know. No I can't. I have already talked to people who have made things to bring. I'm just an idiot for thinking I could do this. I need him. Normally, I would be going to him for help with all this nervousness. Normally, he would say, "Are you nuts? How many people did you invite? Where were you going to put them? Why did you think I would like this?" Seriously, I told one guest when they asked about a gift, that the only thing I was sure he wouldn't want was "a surprise party". This I know about him, why did I do this?
Anyway, I made it through the movie, bawling, my house is not spotless, I will spend some time hiding things tomorrow, which I wish I wouldn't have to do, I will not be making ALL the wonderful dishes I have been dreaming of for a month, I will just be making Hawaiian chicken with rice, and punch. and you know what? I may not make the punch.
I will try to post a comment after the party tomorrow.
So Hubster wakes up Saturday morning making groaning noises that he only makes when he doesn't feel well or is having a UPS man dream about a dog.
When I get up I already have a message from a guest cancelling.
My daughter isn't staying she thought the party was on Sunday and made plans. Sheesh.
I sit in one of our front room chairs and set off an explosion of dog hair. ugh. I am instantly put into a whirl of emotional turmoil and begin to pour out my soul to hubby. I am failing as a homemaker (that evaluation is primarily due to the explosion of dog hair), and hostess(referring to the cancellations ~ because certainly I am responsible for all things in all lives). I need him. Realizing he is not feeling well, (remember the noises when he got up?) I spill the beans. Over a month of secrecy and I let it all out. I need him and if he is not well enough to enjoy this event what am I doing?
So we begin to make the calls to cancel. His mom and brother is invited to come up, after all we still have a ton of food to share.
Knock knock.
Oh no. Guest number one shows up. "I guess you didn't get the message. we canceled the party. But please stay we have enough food to share"
I made the punch. (Forgetting the sweet little frozen raspberries I bought especially for the punch, details.)
Knock knock. More guests trickle in. "Come on in" she says stunned and concerned. And the eye contact between family and guest number one makes the silent decision not to tell the new guests that the party they just joined was indeed cancelled.
So in all the excitement of guests arriving to a cancelled surprise party, I didn't take any photos. The Hawaiian shirts were great and had everyone who was invited came it would have been a delightful spectacle. Thanks Roy, Carl, Mike, Travis, Gary, Bob, Ron and their wives who made sure they wore them. I truly appreciate the people who supported my idea of celebrating his FIVE-O Hawaiian style. Even/especially those who received the cancellation and missed the event.
Oh no.
I cancelled.
But we had a party.
Now before it gets around that we had a party, I have to make contact with the people who actually got the message that we cancelled and didn't show up. Oh no.
So for the second time in a day I make contact with the people invited only this time to tell them we had a party without them. UGH!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I learned a lot this week. I need my husband. He is the other half of me. The other half of my mind. He is the logic. He balances me. And the only surprise party I should NEVER plan is one for HIM.
Thanks for coming on this little Roller coaster ride with me.
PS: I stayed well within my eating program for the day, AND the movie my friend recommended was "LIFTED".
Thanks for reading, New Geri
My dear husband turns 50 today.
Last year when I turned 50, we celebrated in a hospital. Not only did we celebrate my 50years, we were celebrating that I would never have uterine cancer. Nor would I ever have ovarian cancer. It was a wonderful celebration, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
This year, we are celebrating his 50 years. I wanted to do something wonderful for him. About a month ago I started inviting people to a surprise party. Never did I think that tonight, the day before, it would still be a surprise! I even cautiously made updates letting people know it was still a surprise! This week preparations were all set to move forward. Monday I had a Dr apt, but then the rest of the week had tasks spread out to make the to do list disappear easily and without getting overwhelmed.
I seriously had it all figured out.
Honestly, I made a list. I had it ALL figured out.
SO......Monday, I went out to the car to go to my Dr apt. yup. cross item 1 off the list. Yessiree.
Car will not start.
Yessiree, car will not start.
Well, it's only Monday, I'll just do some of my Tuesday stuff today and reschedule my apt.
My Tuesday stuff was cleaning up and putting away my granddaughter's happiness from the weekend. This happiness included a brand new feather boa.
I am allergic to feathers.
Yep. That's right.
So I spent the rest of the day sneezing. Of course, it had been so long since I was around feathers, I didn't even KNOW that the boa was causing all the sneezing, and itchy watery eyes and pluggy ears.
Ears. Yes, then came the call from the Audiologists. An apt opened up for a consult on hearing aid options. Not knowing if the car would be fixed I opted to take the early Tues morning apt which would allow me to take hubby to work and use the car if my car was still dead.
Suddenly TWO days are messed up instead of just one. But Geri, how did an early appointment mess up the whole day on Tuesday? This is how: sneezing all day automatically ruins the next day with headache, and/or drowsy allergy medicine. Not to mention how stinking depressing it is to have a hearing aid consult. Sheesh. Not only am I 51 married to a man still in his 40s for 12 more hours, I have to go pick out some hearing aides.
Oh and by the way, the car got fixed. I love that man!!!
So it's Wednesday. It is raining like, what we generally to refer to as: "cats and dogs". I know the neighbor is going to go nuts about people parking on his driveway when it has been raining. Not only that, but I hate the idea of my friends walking through the wet soggy grass to get to the house so that the hubster won't see their cars when he gets back from the wild goose chase "De jour" that I've sent him on prior to the big surprise. Anyhoo . . I send out an update to tell guests to just wait until 5:15pm and come on down OUR driveway. A slight compromise to the traditional surprise but still pretty impressive to be suddenly surrounded by friends wearing Hawaiian attire. You see it was billed as a "HAWAII FIVE-0" party.
Wednesday, the first cancellation comes in. Our son is not going to make it. He'll be in Cancun.
That's OK. I'd cancel for Cancun. No I wouldn't but . . I try to be understanding anyway.
Friday, three more cancellations. Normally, at this point of an event we are hosting I would talk to my best friend and discuss what changes need to be made now that the "pots" coming to the "pot luck" have changed. But guess who my best friend is? Right. And I can't talk to him about it.
I have errands to run. Hubby wants to use the smoker to impress his mother. So although I am cooking Hawaiian Chicken for a houseful, we are also smoking ribs. Gotta pick up ribs. Nothing will go to waste, we have a freezer. I just have to let him do this so he won't get suspicious. Also, on the errand list is the stuff for punch, cups and plastic cutlery, plates, table cloth, you know: party stuff. Stuff that was originally on the Monday list.
Friday night, cancellation five. OK. I am sure this kind of thing happens all the time. I do start to wonder: have I invited a good mix of people? And I didn't get all my housecleaning done, will I be too pooped tomorrow to make sure everyone is having a good time?(why do i think that is my job?) Oh my goodness, am I expecting too much help in the side dish area, now that there are so many cancellations? And well, that went on for quite some time. I can worry up a storm. Normally, I talk to my best friend and He is the logic to my whimsy, and we balance each other out.
At peak overwhelmedness, I get a text from a friend about a new movie on Netflix. Sure. I need to take another two hours out of my last day to prepare to watch a movie. Ok, let's just get it queued up for when I have time, she says it is really good. Let's see, little boy, troubles at home, Dad goes to Iraq, singing competition. Yes that sounds good. ok. add to Que.
or play.
and watch.
Just for a few minutes.
Ok. Crying. PAUSE. I get up and clean the bathroom floor. Sweep the dining room and start a load of clothes.
Play. Crying. PAUSE. I can't believe I have only been watching this movie for 37minutes and I have already cried twice.
Play. Crying. PAUSE. I am just going to tell Roland about this party and let go of all this stress. No I can't. Maybe it's not the way I thought it would be but: when is it ever?
I get up and clean the kitchen floor, and the counters with the new orange vinegar cleaner I learned how to make from pinterest. smile.
Play. Crying. PAUSE. I have to cancel. I wont tell the hubster, I'll just put out an update and he'll never know. No I can't. I have already talked to people who have made things to bring. I'm just an idiot for thinking I could do this. I need him. Normally, I would be going to him for help with all this nervousness. Normally, he would say, "Are you nuts? How many people did you invite? Where were you going to put them? Why did you think I would like this?" Seriously, I told one guest when they asked about a gift, that the only thing I was sure he wouldn't want was "a surprise party". This I know about him, why did I do this?
Anyway, I made it through the movie, bawling, my house is not spotless, I will spend some time hiding things tomorrow, which I wish I wouldn't have to do, I will not be making ALL the wonderful dishes I have been dreaming of for a month, I will just be making Hawaiian chicken with rice, and punch. and you know what? I may not make the punch.
I will try to post a comment after the party tomorrow.
So Hubster wakes up Saturday morning making groaning noises that he only makes when he doesn't feel well or is having a UPS man dream about a dog.
When I get up I already have a message from a guest cancelling.
My daughter isn't staying she thought the party was on Sunday and made plans. Sheesh.
I sit in one of our front room chairs and set off an explosion of dog hair. ugh. I am instantly put into a whirl of emotional turmoil and begin to pour out my soul to hubby. I am failing as a homemaker (that evaluation is primarily due to the explosion of dog hair), and hostess(referring to the cancellations ~ because certainly I am responsible for all things in all lives). I need him. Realizing he is not feeling well, (remember the noises when he got up?) I spill the beans. Over a month of secrecy and I let it all out. I need him and if he is not well enough to enjoy this event what am I doing?
So we begin to make the calls to cancel. His mom and brother is invited to come up, after all we still have a ton of food to share.
Knock knock.
Oh no. Guest number one shows up. "I guess you didn't get the message. we canceled the party. But please stay we have enough food to share"
I made the punch. (Forgetting the sweet little frozen raspberries I bought especially for the punch, details.)
Knock knock. More guests trickle in. "Come on in" she says stunned and concerned. And the eye contact between family and guest number one makes the silent decision not to tell the new guests that the party they just joined was indeed cancelled.
So in all the excitement of guests arriving to a cancelled surprise party, I didn't take any photos. The Hawaiian shirts were great and had everyone who was invited came it would have been a delightful spectacle. Thanks Roy, Carl, Mike, Travis, Gary, Bob, Ron and their wives who made sure they wore them. I truly appreciate the people who supported my idea of celebrating his FIVE-O Hawaiian style. Even/especially those who received the cancellation and missed the event.
Oh no.
I cancelled.
But we had a party.
Now before it gets around that we had a party, I have to make contact with the people who actually got the message that we cancelled and didn't show up. Oh no.
So for the second time in a day I make contact with the people invited only this time to tell them we had a party without them. UGH!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I learned a lot this week. I need my husband. He is the other half of me. The other half of my mind. He is the logic. He balances me. And the only surprise party I should NEVER plan is one for HIM.
Thanks for coming on this little Roller coaster ride with me.
PS: I stayed well within my eating program for the day, AND the movie my friend recommended was "LIFTED".
Thanks for reading, New Geri
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
On The Road Again
After my last post I struggled with the plateau for a few weeks, trying to stay true to the encouragement I gave you the reader. I had my days.
I enjoy the early Beatles. I must've sung "HARD DAYS NIGHT" 100 times before I gave any thought to what I was singing. I eventually decided it had something to do with working the graveyard shift. Who knows? I would rather not KNOW. Especially, if it has something to do with some drug they took in the 60s. C'mon, I used to love PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON!
Sheesh! Just a sweet story about a boy and a dragon . . . . .ruined.
So...anyhoo. I had to check myself on HOW I was tracking on my program. One time I can fall short is at night. So for a few nights I fought through my insomnia without a comforting midnight snack. Now, I could easily be convinced the Beatles wrote "HARD DAYS NIGHT" while they were on a diet!
Or the munchies, shoot, I almost made it past that one.
Another check was in activity. Sometimes when you recover you can overdo. Sometimes when you recover you can wait a little too long before you test yourself. Yup. I looked at the calendar: time to test the knees and legs. I was really afraid of activity. So I had to sneak up on it. I can take laps around my house, I can park farther away from the store, I can say "yes" instead of sitting on the couch. So I am "ON THE ROAD AGAIN". I don't think there is any hidden meaning in that song.
[Well, you probably have to assume that there is some road trip card games, cigarettes, whiskey and wild wild women. Shoot. Nothing is all wholesome.]
Water intake also needed attention. I was not drinking enough water. Yes water is good to bathe in, wash your dishes and water your gardens but it also makes a great refreshing way to quench your thirst. Water is so good for you, just drink it!
The song that comes to my mind when I think of water is COOL CHANGE. "If there's one thing in my life that's missing . . ." Ahh.
It only took two weeks of due diligence to show a change on the scale. And you know what? I couldn't promise you that any one of those checks had anything to do with the weight loss. Or if none of them had anything to do with the weight loss. What I BELIEVE is: God asked me, "Are you willing to keep going?". I had to answer, "Yes Lord, I am willing." With every journey God asks that question. There are four phases of the affirmative answer: I can, I will, I am, I have.
I can Phil. 4:13
I will Psalm 100:4
I am Gal. 2:20
I have II Tim 4:7
Each of the four phases can, and likely will, be a struggle. What I hear people say is NOT that it is easy but that it is worth it. Today, I move forward encouraging myself in this: God is able to do more than I can think or even imagine Ephesians 3:20.
Which brings me to the song of my heart: AMAZING GRACE.
Thank you for reading, ~ New Geri
I enjoy the early Beatles. I must've sung "HARD DAYS NIGHT" 100 times before I gave any thought to what I was singing. I eventually decided it had something to do with working the graveyard shift. Who knows? I would rather not KNOW. Especially, if it has something to do with some drug they took in the 60s. C'mon, I used to love PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON!
Sheesh! Just a sweet story about a boy and a dragon . . . . .ruined.
So...anyhoo. I had to check myself on HOW I was tracking on my program. One time I can fall short is at night. So for a few nights I fought through my insomnia without a comforting midnight snack. Now, I could easily be convinced the Beatles wrote "HARD DAYS NIGHT" while they were on a diet!
Or the munchies, shoot, I almost made it past that one.
Another check was in activity. Sometimes when you recover you can overdo. Sometimes when you recover you can wait a little too long before you test yourself. Yup. I looked at the calendar: time to test the knees and legs. I was really afraid of activity. So I had to sneak up on it. I can take laps around my house, I can park farther away from the store, I can say "yes" instead of sitting on the couch. So I am "ON THE ROAD AGAIN". I don't think there is any hidden meaning in that song.
[Well, you probably have to assume that there is some road trip card games, cigarettes, whiskey and wild wild women. Shoot. Nothing is all wholesome.]
Water intake also needed attention. I was not drinking enough water. Yes water is good to bathe in, wash your dishes and water your gardens but it also makes a great refreshing way to quench your thirst. Water is so good for you, just drink it!
The song that comes to my mind when I think of water is COOL CHANGE. "If there's one thing in my life that's missing . . ." Ahh.
It only took two weeks of due diligence to show a change on the scale. And you know what? I couldn't promise you that any one of those checks had anything to do with the weight loss. Or if none of them had anything to do with the weight loss. What I BELIEVE is: God asked me, "Are you willing to keep going?". I had to answer, "Yes Lord, I am willing." With every journey God asks that question. There are four phases of the affirmative answer: I can, I will, I am, I have.
I can Phil. 4:13
I will Psalm 100:4
I am Gal. 2:20
I have II Tim 4:7
Each of the four phases can, and likely will, be a struggle. What I hear people say is NOT that it is easy but that it is worth it. Today, I move forward encouraging myself in this: God is able to do more than I can think or even imagine Ephesians 3:20.
Which brings me to the song of my heart: AMAZING GRACE.
Thank you for reading, ~ New Geri
Thursday, February 23, 2012
PLATEAU
pla·teau/plaˈtō/
|
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
My Favorite Scones
Easy. Quick. Delicious.
PREHEAT OVEN TO 400. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.
You need:
1 box cake mix
1 c baking mix (Bisquick type)
1 c water (or buttermilk, milk)
cream (milk)
optional:
nuts to taste
raisins to taste
herbs for savory scones
frosting or butter
Mix all ingredients slowly adding water until mixture forms a soft but firm dough. divide dough into halves, then into two balls. Place one ball on the parchment and flatten to desired size. With a wet knife cut into 8 parts. Brush with cream. Bake until golden brown(15-20mins). While still hot, spread with frosting creating glaze as the frosting melts(use butter for savory scones and sprinkle with herbs or sea salt). Repeat with second ball.
TO STORE: Place scones in container alternating a layer of parchment paper between layers of scones. Depending on the ingredients, I prefer NO refrigeration. Most of the time they don't last long anyway. I have never frozen any of these so can't give you any advice there. I would however, put scones made with perishable add ins in the fridge . . .if they make it that long.
NOTE: If you are feeding a larger crowd, or prefer less sweet scones add two(2)cups of baking mix to 1 box cake mix. If making savory scones, omit cake mix using two cups of baking mix and 1 tbs of sugar, or honey(This takes away the "biscuit" taste).
My family loves these so I try to make them often. I find that the whole wheat baking mixes, and low fat Bisquick taste yummy, too!
Enjoy!
PREHEAT OVEN TO 400. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.
You need:
1 box cake mix
1 c baking mix (Bisquick type)
1 c water (or buttermilk, milk)
cream (milk)
optional:
nuts to taste
raisins to taste
herbs for savory scones
frosting or butter
Mix all ingredients slowly adding water until mixture forms a soft but firm dough. divide dough into halves, then into two balls. Place one ball on the parchment and flatten to desired size. With a wet knife cut into 8 parts. Brush with cream. Bake until golden brown(15-20mins). While still hot, spread with frosting creating glaze as the frosting melts(use butter for savory scones and sprinkle with herbs or sea salt). Repeat with second ball.
TO STORE: Place scones in container alternating a layer of parchment paper between layers of scones. Depending on the ingredients, I prefer NO refrigeration. Most of the time they don't last long anyway. I have never frozen any of these so can't give you any advice there. I would however, put scones made with perishable add ins in the fridge . . .if they make it that long.
NOTE: If you are feeding a larger crowd, or prefer less sweet scones add two(2)cups of baking mix to 1 box cake mix. If making savory scones, omit cake mix using two cups of baking mix and 1 tbs of sugar, or honey(This takes away the "biscuit" taste).
My family loves these so I try to make them often. I find that the whole wheat baking mixes, and low fat Bisquick taste yummy, too!
Enjoy!
Friday, January 27, 2012
AT THE MOVIES: "MAGIC TOWN"
I just finished a B&W
movie with James Stewart and Jane Wyman called Magic Town. I have always been a
Jimmy Stewart fan but have never watched this one in it's entirety. I
decided to make myself finish it this time, and I am glad I did. Before I write
my review I want to recommend you watch it, too. ALL OF IT! If you don’t wade
through the slow stuff at the beginning you wont give yourself the opportunity
to see the parallels to our society today. So before you read the rest
of this blog, watch it. NOTE: It's available on Netflix or online at http://youtu.be/lr-FbTLfOds (let me know how this link works)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stewart plays Rip smith a
statistician who makes his living selling opinion polls. Finding this tedious
and time consuming work he searches for, and finds, a town statistically
identical to the USA as a whole. With the same percentages of groups i.e. ?0%
women over 25, ?2% annual earnings under 15k a year, and so forth. This
mathematically perfect town and Smith can save time and provide marketing
research to high paying clients in a fraction of the time and expense of "scientific" polls. Smith dreams that he can accumulate his fortune and finally have
what he has always wanted: security. Yeah right!
In contrast, Jane Wyman plays Mary
Peterman the editor of the newspaper, who wants to carry on her father’s dream
of bringing progress to Grandview by building new schools and making room for
cultural pursuits. Smith knows this would attract new people changing the
opinions and socioeconomic values of current residents ergo changing the
statistical perfection he has bet on to sustain his future security.
When the truth comes out the town
goes crazy thinking they are special. With swelled heads and greedy hearts they
begin to change. Almost overnight they begin to make promises they cannot
fulfill without the new citizens and economic growth, but as the town changes the first poll proves
to be ridiculously off of the grid for the rest of the nation. After becoming
laughing stock for radio and print nationally, the town becomes a ghost town
and their humiliation leaves the original people withdrawn and isolated from
one another. Smith then tries to get the town to come back together. (Here is a
town hall meeting scene that is sappy but inspirational nonetheless.)
One of the boasts made in the throes
of conceit was that a new high school would be built “with their own hands” in
the event that the bond vote failed. Smith reminds the council of these words
and the meeting eventually becomes what could be compared to a group of Amish
discussing the barn they will build for the neighbor. The kind of teamwork upon
which our great nation was built.
************************************************************
Believing the US debt is built
upon the same ridiculous pride found in fictional Grandview – I also believe humble sacrifice and hard work
is the solution. I know there will be some challenging days ahead of us. We
must overcome our addiction to products made in China, we must continue/begin growing
our own food, thinking health first and medicine second, many of us may find
ourselves in multi-generational housing, and this doesn’t have to be a bad thing.
Together we lighten the load. There is no easy fix, we have debts and debtors
will need to be paid the sooner we roll up our sleeves and face it the better.
Watch Magic Town. Don’t
shut it off before the ghost town scene. There are some great lessons to learn,
some pretty good acting and a few familiar faces from another Stewart movie, “It’s
a wonderful life”. If you don’t see what I saw, that’s okay, you won’t have
wasted 2 hours of your time because it is a satisfying movie. (Even if you
don’t feel inspired to Blog about it.)
I’d love to hear your points of
view on this movie.
Thanks for reading, Geri
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Sweet Nothings
I broke a candle today. The glass container shattered across the laminate flooring in an explosion of sparkling clear razors, needles, and knives. I was barefoot.
This was the candle purchased the day I had to leave Roland at the hospital for the first time. It was lovely just to look at, but also had a delightful fragrance and crackling sound. It comforted me that first night. And the next. I stared at it on the floor trying to figure out how I could save it.
Then, my eyes drifted from the sparkling glass to my bare feet. Then my mind ran to my grand-daughter's little toes and I began trying to figure out how to save them!
First, do no (more) harm. If the candle can't be saved, so be it, the toes were the most important. So I tried to find a part of the nearby carpet that was NOT sparkling. Then stepped over to it.
Second, assess the damage. I saw that most of the glass had stayed embedded in the soft wax. Also, only part of the glass container was cracked. (At this point putting on gloves would have been a great idea) I picked up the largest remaining piece of the candle and carefully carried it into the kitchen. Then I put on shoes and grabbed the broom and dustpan.
Third, saving the candle. In order to save the candle I had to break the rest of the glass off of the soft wax. (This would have been a good time to put on safety goggles) Removing the candle was only one part of saving it. It melted at such a low temperature it would turn into a puddle if it was lit as it was now: just wax and wick. So I had to find a new container.
A new home. My friend went to San Francisco and brought me back an amber/orange cut glass votive holder. When I asked her why she didn't get me the traditional T-shirt, she said the glass reminded her of the lights on the golden gate bridge at night. That thought transformed my outlook on candles and containers. I have purchased glass cups and jars and all sorts of things because, "I can put a candle in that!". So I knew what I wanted to put the candle "guts" in, but wasn't sure it would fit. It did. Then I was not sure about the science of it, stability, overflow of melted wax, how high the flame would go, etc. I lit it. (Kids, dont try this at home!)
The surprise. I had to let it burn for a while in order to see if it would melt too fast and overflow the container so I set it right next to me, lit, smelling wonderful, looking lovely, and crackling like a nice little fire. Wait a minute, . . . . I haven't been able to hear very well since New Years' Eve weekend when I developed a double ear infection (I also had an eye infection and strep throat, but oye, I never complain). I have been watching the TV with the volume in the 70s, saying "pardon me" too many times to count, and now I am hearing the wonderful little crackling sound of this candle.
After ten days of antibiotics I had begun to wonder how much of my hearing loss was going to be permanent. Then with the second round almost gone I was beginning to get used to having people repeat things. How easily we accept troubles sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I believe when we have troubles we need to go to our maker first with all of them, then our doctors, and our family and friends. And just like taking antibiotics - the label usually says to finish all medication - we need to stand firm. Answers may not come instantly, but look for little reminders that an "answer-er" is listening. A glimmer of a candle, the sparkle of an explosion of glass that causes NO cuts! Keep taking your medication (NOTE: If you see listening to God as the medication, just remember it is a lifetime prescription), before you know it you will see improvement. Carefully the glass is removed making big and little toes safe, the candle is made beautifully useful again, and there will be some kind of love letter from God if you look for it. Who knows? Maybe He will whisper sweet nothings in your ear! B^)
This was the candle purchased the day I had to leave Roland at the hospital for the first time. It was lovely just to look at, but also had a delightful fragrance and crackling sound. It comforted me that first night. And the next. I stared at it on the floor trying to figure out how I could save it.
Then, my eyes drifted from the sparkling glass to my bare feet. Then my mind ran to my grand-daughter's little toes and I began trying to figure out how to save them!
First, do no (more) harm. If the candle can't be saved, so be it, the toes were the most important. So I tried to find a part of the nearby carpet that was NOT sparkling. Then stepped over to it.
Second, assess the damage. I saw that most of the glass had stayed embedded in the soft wax. Also, only part of the glass container was cracked. (At this point putting on gloves would have been a great idea) I picked up the largest remaining piece of the candle and carefully carried it into the kitchen. Then I put on shoes and grabbed the broom and dustpan.
Third, saving the candle. In order to save the candle I had to break the rest of the glass off of the soft wax. (This would have been a good time to put on safety goggles) Removing the candle was only one part of saving it. It melted at such a low temperature it would turn into a puddle if it was lit as it was now: just wax and wick. So I had to find a new container.
A new home. My friend went to San Francisco and brought me back an amber/orange cut glass votive holder. When I asked her why she didn't get me the traditional T-shirt, she said the glass reminded her of the lights on the golden gate bridge at night. That thought transformed my outlook on candles and containers. I have purchased glass cups and jars and all sorts of things because, "I can put a candle in that!". So I knew what I wanted to put the candle "guts" in, but wasn't sure it would fit. It did. Then I was not sure about the science of it, stability, overflow of melted wax, how high the flame would go, etc. I lit it. (Kids, dont try this at home!)
The surprise. I had to let it burn for a while in order to see if it would melt too fast and overflow the container so I set it right next to me, lit, smelling wonderful, looking lovely, and crackling like a nice little fire. Wait a minute, . . . . I haven't been able to hear very well since New Years' Eve weekend when I developed a double ear infection (I also had an eye infection and strep throat, but oye, I never complain). I have been watching the TV with the volume in the 70s, saying "pardon me" too many times to count, and now I am hearing the wonderful little crackling sound of this candle.
After ten days of antibiotics I had begun to wonder how much of my hearing loss was going to be permanent. Then with the second round almost gone I was beginning to get used to having people repeat things. How easily we accept troubles sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I believe when we have troubles we need to go to our maker first with all of them, then our doctors, and our family and friends. And just like taking antibiotics - the label usually says to finish all medication - we need to stand firm. Answers may not come instantly, but look for little reminders that an "answer-er" is listening. A glimmer of a candle, the sparkle of an explosion of glass that causes NO cuts! Keep taking your medication (NOTE: If you see listening to God as the medication, just remember it is a lifetime prescription), before you know it you will see improvement. Carefully the glass is removed making big and little toes safe, the candle is made beautifully useful again, and there will be some kind of love letter from God if you look for it. Who knows? Maybe He will whisper sweet nothings in your ear! B^)
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Gloom, despair and agony on me....
If you have read more than one of my posts you know I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I doubt they are always easily understood by others but they are there never the less. (Is nevertheless one word?) Anyway,......
On the week before Christmas, we thought we were going to move slowly and purposefully toward the big family gathering set for Christmas eve. I had planned ahead for the dinner because I knew I would still be recovering from the surgery we had started calling "having my tires rotated", so besides preparing for dinner, the Internet was my shopping center. I just had to wait for the presents to be delivered to our door and hubby would wrap all but one: his from me. So for that gift I went the extra mile and had Amazon wrap it. With a personal card!!!(Don't Judge me!) Worth every penny. My gift from hubby came the same day, he hid it in the guest house. We always decide to get something big for each other that we both like and call it our only gift(the turkey smoker). It's not always big in size or $$, just big because it is for both of us. Then, even tho' it happens every year, he surprises me with something else, and I do the same. This year I realized I needed to use his surprise gift for dinner Christmas eve and since we don't usually open our gifts until Christmas morning, I had to put on my begging shoes and give up the surprise. So I told him, "Honey I got you a coffee bean grinder, and I need you to open it so we can use it on Christmas eve" ... big smile, batting eyes, and the obligatory southern belle "please?".
Honestly, wouldn't you think that would mean I got to open my surprise? Sheesh.
Anyway, things were going fairly well with my recovery: I couldn't drive, couldn't lift anything, needed help getting dressed, and with other little details of day to day living, but I felt great for the most part. Then hubby started not feeling well. Through a series of fortunate events, a day of Dr visits kept me away from home, with him, and away from the pain meds. Good thing because we had to return to Longview from Castle Rock to take hubby to ER, and I had to drive. Good thing I was off the pills long enough to drive.
We were in a situation that was either going to mean an emergency surgery that was dangerous due to poor vitals, or everything was going to be OK after having some IV antibiotics. These were our choices. Terrifying or no big deal. We are hospital professionals because of my cancer history, my daughter had a terrible infection when she was 10 months old and severe anemia during her early teens, my son spent several post football game hours in the ER and when he was younger they began to know his name at the main desk,I started to count the stitches but gave up when I lost count. I never had to leave any of my family in the hospital over night. We have been there over night waiting, but I never walked out of the hospital leaving them to stay in an unfamiliar room, saying goodbye and letting go of their hand. I was always the one in the bed.
Roland finally saw the surgeon and she eliminated the dangerous surgical option, but he had to stay on the IV for over 24 hours and that was gonna put him at the wrong time to come home the next day so we knew we were looking at at least two nights in the hospital. Under normal circumstances ( whatever that means) I would have called my daughter and stayed at the hospital, but by now I was definitely feeling the need to pay attention to my own recovery. Pain and fatigue + sleeping in a chair = TROUBLE. But as I said goodbye I was overwhelmed by the pain of deep love. Yes, I said the pain of deep love. I didn't want to leave. We tried to convince ourselves I could stay but ultimately this wisdom won out: I have to take care of myself because he could not, whereas he would be taken care of there, and I could not at home.
So at home, alone, I began to realize how amazing love is, how I didn't want to leave the bedside of the guy who spills little drops of coffee by the coffeemaker EVERY SINGLE DAY, the guy who does a million little things that drive me crazy, I didn't want to be away. How wonderful to feel love so strongly it hurts. I cried and am crying now remembering it.
I had been given a candle that makes a crackling noise like a fire as a housewarming gift just a few weeks prior. I thought if I could have the candlelight and that noise maybe it would feel like he was home and had built a fire for me like he has so many times before. (I was actually purchasing another candle like that one when he came in the store to tell me I had to drive him back to the ER.) It was comforting.
The brand is WoodWick just in case you want one. Not the cure for loneliness but it is a comforting sound.
He stayed two nights and they let him come home. Then on Christmas eve morning he ended up back in the ER this time with my son driving because I had taken meds and couldn't drive, I smoked a turkey - alone, none of my plans for dinner turned out exactly how I planned them (maybe one day I'll tell how there was an unplanned fire - which had nothing to do with smoking the turkey), since Roland was not working he changed the time to three hours earlier than I had figured for a UPS family Christmas eve. And as badly as I want to blame him for my overwhelmnity I can't. There were offers to help - but I don't know how to delegate help - I gotta just have people take over. I am gonna work on that tho', because I have excellent helpers. I mean top notch helpers! These people are like the guys who change the tires on the race cars, help me out NASCAR friends - are those guys called the pit crew? Anyway these people are that good. Delegating to them has got to become one of my skills as long as they allow me to host our gatherings. AND I LOVE HOSTING OUR GATHERINGS.
So I titled this with a line from an old HEE-HAW song, and if you are too young to have seen it, or too old to remember it I would not be surprised if there are clips on YouTube.
In closing, I guess I want to share that just as loving deeply can cause pain when we are confronted with loss, possible loss or even little frustrations, we can rejoice that we have known great love. Not unlike that old HEE-HAW song about gloom, despair and agony can make us laugh. During the Holidays I was able to share this with my in laws who are very much my family after almost 30yrs. Hopefully, they are not disappointed to be stuck with me, BECAUSE THEY ARE...BWAHAHAHAHA!
Thanks for reading, Geri
NOTE: Health issues are resolving and we will be making some health related changes around here so that we increase our chances of not having to leave one or the other over night in a hospital. May this post encourage you and your great love to do the same.
On the week before Christmas, we thought we were going to move slowly and purposefully toward the big family gathering set for Christmas eve. I had planned ahead for the dinner because I knew I would still be recovering from the surgery we had started calling "having my tires rotated", so besides preparing for dinner, the Internet was my shopping center. I just had to wait for the presents to be delivered to our door and hubby would wrap all but one: his from me. So for that gift I went the extra mile and had Amazon wrap it. With a personal card!!!(Don't Judge me!) Worth every penny. My gift from hubby came the same day, he hid it in the guest house. We always decide to get something big for each other that we both like and call it our only gift(the turkey smoker). It's not always big in size or $$, just big because it is for both of us. Then, even tho' it happens every year, he surprises me with something else, and I do the same. This year I realized I needed to use his surprise gift for dinner Christmas eve and since we don't usually open our gifts until Christmas morning, I had to put on my begging shoes and give up the surprise. So I told him, "Honey I got you a coffee bean grinder, and I need you to open it so we can use it on Christmas eve" ... big smile, batting eyes, and the obligatory southern belle "please?".
Honestly, wouldn't you think that would mean I got to open my surprise? Sheesh.
Anyway, things were going fairly well with my recovery: I couldn't drive, couldn't lift anything, needed help getting dressed, and with other little details of day to day living, but I felt great for the most part. Then hubby started not feeling well. Through a series of fortunate events, a day of Dr visits kept me away from home, with him, and away from the pain meds. Good thing because we had to return to Longview from Castle Rock to take hubby to ER, and I had to drive. Good thing I was off the pills long enough to drive.
We were in a situation that was either going to mean an emergency surgery that was dangerous due to poor vitals, or everything was going to be OK after having some IV antibiotics. These were our choices. Terrifying or no big deal. We are hospital professionals because of my cancer history, my daughter had a terrible infection when she was 10 months old and severe anemia during her early teens, my son spent several post football game hours in the ER and when he was younger they began to know his name at the main desk,I started to count the stitches but gave up when I lost count. I never had to leave any of my family in the hospital over night. We have been there over night waiting, but I never walked out of the hospital leaving them to stay in an unfamiliar room, saying goodbye and letting go of their hand. I was always the one in the bed.
Roland finally saw the surgeon and she eliminated the dangerous surgical option, but he had to stay on the IV for over 24 hours and that was gonna put him at the wrong time to come home the next day so we knew we were looking at at least two nights in the hospital. Under normal circumstances ( whatever that means) I would have called my daughter and stayed at the hospital, but by now I was definitely feeling the need to pay attention to my own recovery. Pain and fatigue + sleeping in a chair = TROUBLE. But as I said goodbye I was overwhelmed by the pain of deep love. Yes, I said the pain of deep love. I didn't want to leave. We tried to convince ourselves I could stay but ultimately this wisdom won out: I have to take care of myself because he could not, whereas he would be taken care of there, and I could not at home.
So at home, alone, I began to realize how amazing love is, how I didn't want to leave the bedside of the guy who spills little drops of coffee by the coffeemaker EVERY SINGLE DAY, the guy who does a million little things that drive me crazy, I didn't want to be away. How wonderful to feel love so strongly it hurts. I cried and am crying now remembering it.
I had been given a candle that makes a crackling noise like a fire as a housewarming gift just a few weeks prior. I thought if I could have the candlelight and that noise maybe it would feel like he was home and had built a fire for me like he has so many times before. (I was actually purchasing another candle like that one when he came in the store to tell me I had to drive him back to the ER.) It was comforting.
The brand is WoodWick just in case you want one. Not the cure for loneliness but it is a comforting sound.
He stayed two nights and they let him come home. Then on Christmas eve morning he ended up back in the ER this time with my son driving because I had taken meds and couldn't drive, I smoked a turkey - alone, none of my plans for dinner turned out exactly how I planned them (maybe one day I'll tell how there was an unplanned fire - which had nothing to do with smoking the turkey), since Roland was not working he changed the time to three hours earlier than I had figured for a UPS family Christmas eve. And as badly as I want to blame him for my overwhelmnity I can't. There were offers to help - but I don't know how to delegate help - I gotta just have people take over. I am gonna work on that tho', because I have excellent helpers. I mean top notch helpers! These people are like the guys who change the tires on the race cars, help me out NASCAR friends - are those guys called the pit crew? Anyway these people are that good. Delegating to them has got to become one of my skills as long as they allow me to host our gatherings. AND I LOVE HOSTING OUR GATHERINGS.
So I titled this with a line from an old HEE-HAW song, and if you are too young to have seen it, or too old to remember it I would not be surprised if there are clips on YouTube.
In closing, I guess I want to share that just as loving deeply can cause pain when we are confronted with loss, possible loss or even little frustrations, we can rejoice that we have known great love. Not unlike that old HEE-HAW song about gloom, despair and agony can make us laugh. During the Holidays I was able to share this with my in laws who are very much my family after almost 30yrs. Hopefully, they are not disappointed to be stuck with me, BECAUSE THEY ARE...BWAHAHAHAHA!
Thanks for reading, Geri
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Sweet Selfishness - or - Christmas just isnt the same anymore
I am far from being the selfless non-materialistic person I would like to be, or even would like to SAY I have become one day.
I do prefer being the giver of the perfect gift, whether it is perfect in timing or in and of itself, than to be the reciever of such a gift. But theres the rub, it isnt sacraficial giving most of the time because I get such a return emotionally from giving. Emphasize most of the time.
I enjoy recieving, yes, yes, I do. I enjoy wrapping papers and ribbons and bows, gift bags and wondering whats nside then finding something wonderful inside. I enjoy recieving cards, and flowers, and boxes from the postal carrier, Fed-Ex and UPS. I am old school if you really want to give me a treat send a handwritten letter to me snail mail. Not everyone feels this way and thats ok. (to my children who are now afraid that all they will recieve at Christmas is a handwritten letter snail mail, relax, but you on the other hand might want to keep this in mind).
When we were children, we anticipated Christmas morning with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning.....Redundant? No, it's just that there is nothing to compare it to except itself. For all our lives anticipation will be compared to how we felt waiting for Christmas. As the years pass the anticipation does also. What seemed like endless days between Christmases turns into a blink of an eye between Christmases, so much so when we look at Christmas photos we might have to count children to see what year it was. For example, that was "before Carol was born"..or that's "the year John came home on leave".
The return to the true meaning of the Holiday is kind of a weird journey. You cant KNOW that Jesus was actually born on December 25th, and then the idea of the evergreen tree brought into the house and decorated with glass and shiny things or even food - well I can not even as a devout Christian tell you the true meaning of this holiday in it's current state. I know there are many ideas about it and most of what I do is done because it's just plain how it was done when I was a kid. And I gotta tell ya, I like it!
Then you can also add the journey of 400 years waiting for messiah. Waiting for redeemer, waiting for the lamb of God, waiting for the Christ, "the hopes and fears of all the years, are met in thee tonight". Oh come o come Emmanuel.
So for me the journey to finding the anticipation of a child again has to do with being a grown up. Yup, I am weird. Becoming a giver IS the circle of life. You are concieved and are nurtured by your mothers being, then born and most likely are nurtured by her for some months more and your other needs are taken care of as well. yes I think we can all agree a baby is dependant on recieving. Not to say their caregiviers don't recieve from their servitude. And someday when that child is grown and becomes a parent, they will also find they get something from giving. Here is the thing: grown ups get something out of giving.
Finding the anticipation of a child at Christmas is the journey to becoming a giver.
It is the sweetest selfishness I can imagine: giving because you know how good it makes you feel. It is a grand hobby this. Focus on the joy you can give to others and Joy comes to you. I'll repeat that because if I were preaching in an amen-ing church instead of blogging I would repeat it - JOY COMES TO YOU!
So give. Find something worthy and give. Find someone unworthy and give. You're gonna feel great!
God bless you, in your giving, Geri
I do prefer being the giver of the perfect gift, whether it is perfect in timing or in and of itself, than to be the reciever of such a gift. But theres the rub, it isnt sacraficial giving most of the time because I get such a return emotionally from giving. Emphasize most of the time.
I enjoy recieving, yes, yes, I do. I enjoy wrapping papers and ribbons and bows, gift bags and wondering whats nside then finding something wonderful inside. I enjoy recieving cards, and flowers, and boxes from the postal carrier, Fed-Ex and UPS. I am old school if you really want to give me a treat send a handwritten letter to me snail mail. Not everyone feels this way and thats ok. (to my children who are now afraid that all they will recieve at Christmas is a handwritten letter snail mail, relax, but you on the other hand might want to keep this in mind).
When we were children, we anticipated Christmas morning with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning.....Redundant? No, it's just that there is nothing to compare it to except itself. For all our lives anticipation will be compared to how we felt waiting for Christmas. As the years pass the anticipation does also. What seemed like endless days between Christmases turns into a blink of an eye between Christmases, so much so when we look at Christmas photos we might have to count children to see what year it was. For example, that was "before Carol was born"..or that's "the year John came home on leave".
The return to the true meaning of the Holiday is kind of a weird journey. You cant KNOW that Jesus was actually born on December 25th, and then the idea of the evergreen tree brought into the house and decorated with glass and shiny things or even food - well I can not even as a devout Christian tell you the true meaning of this holiday in it's current state. I know there are many ideas about it and most of what I do is done because it's just plain how it was done when I was a kid. And I gotta tell ya, I like it!
Then you can also add the journey of 400 years waiting for messiah. Waiting for redeemer, waiting for the lamb of God, waiting for the Christ, "the hopes and fears of all the years, are met in thee tonight". Oh come o come Emmanuel.
So for me the journey to finding the anticipation of a child again has to do with being a grown up. Yup, I am weird. Becoming a giver IS the circle of life. You are concieved and are nurtured by your mothers being, then born and most likely are nurtured by her for some months more and your other needs are taken care of as well. yes I think we can all agree a baby is dependant on recieving. Not to say their caregiviers don't recieve from their servitude. And someday when that child is grown and becomes a parent, they will also find they get something from giving. Here is the thing: grown ups get something out of giving.
Finding the anticipation of a child at Christmas is the journey to becoming a giver.
It is the sweetest selfishness I can imagine: giving because you know how good it makes you feel. It is a grand hobby this. Focus on the joy you can give to others and Joy comes to you. I'll repeat that because if I were preaching in an amen-ing church instead of blogging I would repeat it - JOY COMES TO YOU!
So give. Find something worthy and give. Find someone unworthy and give. You're gonna feel great!
God bless you, in your giving, Geri
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A Girl Needs Shoes
Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Ephesians 6 (KJV)
I was thinking about shoes today. No coincidence that I also saw the podiatrist. I have a few foot issues he is trying to help me with, today I used the breathing technique taught to me by the crazy surgeon who did an emergency biopsy on my breast without numbing me first, in her office with a nurse holding my breast like I was a cow getting a brand. (all I know about that I learned from John Wayne movies and Bonanza) Count to ten then backwards to one - over and over until you are through. The Dr was giving me a cortisone shot in the heel. UGH!
So I was thinking about how I walk different depending on the shoes I wear. Or don't wear. Then I was thinking about the God's armour verses, which brought me to here.
When I get dressed I put on my shoes last. Most of the time if I have shoes on, I am dressed. Yup hardly ever in the birthday suit with shoes on. I have gotten the mail in a robe, birthday suit, and Roland's romeos, but we have a delightful mail WOMAN. And she has been our mail lady through all my chemo and the rest of the falderall being bald and all. Anyway, for me shoes are last.
The helmet of salvation is on as long as Jesus is in my heart. And the loin girting is only in truth - to girt or not to girt is a question asked and answered prior to putting on the helmet. If you dont believe the Bible is truth you won't have the sheild of faith or the helmet of salvation, see where I am going with this? The breast plate of righteousness, well that was tested and approved by covering it in Jesus' precious blood. His blood will never lose it's power.
The nest verse is putting on the shoes so I will skip over that one just for the sake of my podiatry analogy, and because I put my shoes on last.
The sheild of faith is needed prior to any of the armour."He that comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him” Hebrew 11:6. So in order to have any of the armour you must first have the shield of faith.
Which brings me to the shoes. Different shoes make us walk differently. I am not a stilletto girl - mainly since I cant see my feet so well at this weight. But I have worn high heels in my day and I know you walk differently in those than in penny loafers. (Kudos to the women who can wear them and walk in them you do look very . . . feminine.) So My point is, no matter where you go, how you walk, you take that helmet, girt-er thing, breast plate, sheild of faith and the ever important sword of the spirit which is God's word. And I believe If you hide his word in your heart, believe on Jesus that all the armour is portable. PORTABLE.
BUT, all the armour can be intimidating, harsh and dangerous without the shoes of the gospel of PEACE. Oh have I learned this the hard way. All of the armour can appear to be mere religion if you come after others without the gospel of PEACE.
GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, PEACE ON EARTH & GOODWILL TO ALL MEN!
Thanks for reading, Geri
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Celebrate The Small Stuff
Just an update on how the weight loss is going, since we are entering the holidays.
I hit -35lbs this week. I know I have a few more to go, you know I have a few more to go, so I am not gonna make the amount lost the big thing to celebrate, I will save the big celebration for when I hit the healthy number that gets me off of the high risk for cancer list.
Something else I know is that I have to grant myself little celebrations along the way, I think everyone needs hugs, and "attaboy"s, pats on the back and "you go girl"s. I think I may have gotten a bit addicted to all those cheers, well, because they kept me alive. Let me explain:
During my first battle the diagnosis was the most grim. The chemo was the most grueling, and my support system was the most afraid. In January of 2001, the protocol of care for stage 3b Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) was chemo, followed by a mastectomy, followed by more chemo, and finally radiation. After my mastectomy there was a break in treatment to allow my body to recover before assaulting it again with the chemo. At that time my hair was begining to grow back. It had been 4 months since my last chemo and my hair was growing. I began thinking about losing it all again. I started to consider quitting. About just letting my Faith stand - about believing that I was cancer free - and get back to life. It was at that point a therapist clarified to me what I had told him in the begining of treatment "I want my kids to see me fight-win or lose". It reminded me that the well spoken "cheer" at the just the right moment can keep you going when stopping could have epic consequences.
During the second battle the shock of a reoccurence and the probability of my demise, brought out the best of the cheerleaders. Oh my goodness, the staff at the cancer center was so attentive and caring. The gentleness of those serving me was beautiful. After every surgery getting a card from the staff wishing me healthy recovery and half joking that they hoped they would never see me as a patient again. I had awesome cheerleaders. Which is not to take away from the power of prayer - God was the best cheerleader of all.
So now I face this old battle, and when you are 3x-4x it takes alot of pounds lost in order for the loss to show. I have seen changes. But I am looking for them. In fact even if the scale hasnt changed I see changes possibly just because I have a good outlook one day. The fact may be that the only thing changed was my outlook that day. I can psych myself out sometimes with that kinda stuff. Escpecially if no one else notices.
Anyway, back to celebrating the little things. As I said before I hit the -35lbs mark this week. So what? Well do you know what last thursday was? The biggest day of the year for us overeaters. WE BLEND! Yesiree Bob! We can eat and eat and keep up with all y'all! And even tho' we might still eat more than you but, it goes without the same humiliation as the other big get togethers - because "everyone is endulging". But, this year, this year I had a plan. I have no certain types of food that are off limits, but I do have choices: good choices & bad choices. Yes, we had enough food for an army and I had seconds of some of it - and it was delicious! Thanks Mom and Carol!
One cheerleader shared with me and other FB friends that thanksgiving was a day NOT a season, and although we eat to celebrate God's blessing us and give thanks, it is just one day. That simple cheer, and my new found dislike for the feeling of being FULL, allowed me to lose weight over the week that includes the biggest feast of the year. GO, GO GERI! GO GO, GO GERI! (sometimes you have to be your own cheerleader)
I started this blog Oct 30, so even tho' I blogged yesterday I felt I should post the update on the weight loss.
Just a few more days until my surgery so we'll see how that goes....I told my plastic surgeon that if he wanted to use me to teach interns how to do liposuction it was OK by me, and that I also have a mole above my lip...you know, since I'll be asleep anyway...
He has been so great to deal with my sense of humor. Seriously, some of the stuff that I say at his office surprises me. Some of it could probably get me put into a straight jacket. But at any rate Dr. Gabriel has been a real sport - I suppose doctors need a cheerleader now and then too. And laughter is the best cheer!
Thanks for reading, Geri
I hit -35lbs this week. I know I have a few more to go, you know I have a few more to go, so I am not gonna make the amount lost the big thing to celebrate, I will save the big celebration for when I hit the healthy number that gets me off of the high risk for cancer list.
Something else I know is that I have to grant myself little celebrations along the way, I think everyone needs hugs, and "attaboy"s, pats on the back and "you go girl"s. I think I may have gotten a bit addicted to all those cheers, well, because they kept me alive. Let me explain:
During my first battle the diagnosis was the most grim. The chemo was the most grueling, and my support system was the most afraid. In January of 2001, the protocol of care for stage 3b Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) was chemo, followed by a mastectomy, followed by more chemo, and finally radiation. After my mastectomy there was a break in treatment to allow my body to recover before assaulting it again with the chemo. At that time my hair was begining to grow back. It had been 4 months since my last chemo and my hair was growing. I began thinking about losing it all again. I started to consider quitting. About just letting my Faith stand - about believing that I was cancer free - and get back to life. It was at that point a therapist clarified to me what I had told him in the begining of treatment "I want my kids to see me fight-win or lose". It reminded me that the well spoken "cheer" at the just the right moment can keep you going when stopping could have epic consequences.
During the second battle the shock of a reoccurence and the probability of my demise, brought out the best of the cheerleaders. Oh my goodness, the staff at the cancer center was so attentive and caring. The gentleness of those serving me was beautiful. After every surgery getting a card from the staff wishing me healthy recovery and half joking that they hoped they would never see me as a patient again. I had awesome cheerleaders. Which is not to take away from the power of prayer - God was the best cheerleader of all.
So now I face this old battle, and when you are 3x-4x it takes alot of pounds lost in order for the loss to show. I have seen changes. But I am looking for them. In fact even if the scale hasnt changed I see changes possibly just because I have a good outlook one day. The fact may be that the only thing changed was my outlook that day. I can psych myself out sometimes with that kinda stuff. Escpecially if no one else notices.
Anyway, back to celebrating the little things. As I said before I hit the -35lbs mark this week. So what? Well do you know what last thursday was? The biggest day of the year for us overeaters. WE BLEND! Yesiree Bob! We can eat and eat and keep up with all y'all! And even tho' we might still eat more than you but, it goes without the same humiliation as the other big get togethers - because "everyone is endulging". But, this year, this year I had a plan. I have no certain types of food that are off limits, but I do have choices: good choices & bad choices. Yes, we had enough food for an army and I had seconds of some of it - and it was delicious! Thanks Mom and Carol!
One cheerleader shared with me and other FB friends that thanksgiving was a day NOT a season, and although we eat to celebrate God's blessing us and give thanks, it is just one day. That simple cheer, and my new found dislike for the feeling of being FULL, allowed me to lose weight over the week that includes the biggest feast of the year. GO, GO GERI! GO GO, GO GERI! (sometimes you have to be your own cheerleader)
I started this blog Oct 30, so even tho' I blogged yesterday I felt I should post the update on the weight loss.
Just a few more days until my surgery so we'll see how that goes....I told my plastic surgeon that if he wanted to use me to teach interns how to do liposuction it was OK by me, and that I also have a mole above my lip...you know, since I'll be asleep anyway...
He has been so great to deal with my sense of humor. Seriously, some of the stuff that I say at his office surprises me. Some of it could probably get me put into a straight jacket. But at any rate Dr. Gabriel has been a real sport - I suppose doctors need a cheerleader now and then too. And laughter is the best cheer!
Thanks for reading, Geri
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
The Bucket (is half full) List
I am thankful for the roof above me, the floor below, the walls that surround me and every window.
I am thankful for each day beyond my dreams added to my life, or at least it seems.
I am thankful for the goals I have set and reached, and for failures that never fail to teach.
I am thankful for friends who read the newspaper and post on facebook when America is in danger.
I am thankful for jokes, and funny movies and laughter, for photos of childhood before during and after.
I am thankful for my brothers and sisters, both near and far away. For their spouses and children and for however they spend this day.
I am thankful for a mind that trusts the heart, and for a heart that is willing to learn.
I am thankful for a fireplace, love the sound and the warmth, for matches and paper and wood to burn.
I am thankful for the love of a hardworking man and for the name he gave me - and all of his family. A passle of brothers that I hardly see, are supplemented by Travis and Uncle Damey. (the kids always called him Damey but his name is Damon)
I am thankful to God for forgiveness and grace, that when i fail He hides not His face.
I am glad for the spring I am Glad for the summer, I am thankful for Fall, but sometimes Winter's a bummer. I really enjoy the look of the snow, and thank God for saftey for those who must travel, the postman, the UPS man, and the driver of the school bus - blessing them and keeping them who do it all for us.
I miss certain people who've gone to heaven already. I want to be there too whenever God is ready. I know you are there, it's all gonna be great - someday, God willing.
Feeling thankful, feeling comfortable looking forward to eating, and a special to thanks to all who are reading!
Thanks for listening.
I am thankful for each day beyond my dreams added to my life, or at least it seems.
I am thankful for the goals I have set and reached, and for failures that never fail to teach.
I am thankful for friends who read the newspaper and post on facebook when America is in danger.
I am thankful for jokes, and funny movies and laughter, for photos of childhood before during and after.
I am thankful for my brothers and sisters, both near and far away. For their spouses and children and for however they spend this day.
I am thankful for a mind that trusts the heart, and for a heart that is willing to learn.
I am thankful for a fireplace, love the sound and the warmth, for matches and paper and wood to burn.
I am thankful for the love of a hardworking man and for the name he gave me - and all of his family. A passle of brothers that I hardly see, are supplemented by Travis and Uncle Damey. (the kids always called him Damey but his name is Damon)
I am thankful to God for forgiveness and grace, that when i fail He hides not His face.
I am glad for the spring I am Glad for the summer, I am thankful for Fall, but sometimes Winter's a bummer. I really enjoy the look of the snow, and thank God for saftey for those who must travel, the postman, the UPS man, and the driver of the school bus - blessing them and keeping them who do it all for us.
I miss certain people who've gone to heaven already. I want to be there too whenever God is ready. I know you are there, it's all gonna be great - someday, God willing.
Feeling thankful, feeling comfortable looking forward to eating, and a special to thanks to all who are reading!
Thanks for listening.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Stuffed or Full? Starving or hungry?
Novemeber 20, 2011
I exaggerate. I can lie like nobody's business, too. Atleast, I did before I made a decision to follow Jesus. And even then it took awhile to weed through the lies that had become woven into the fabric of my life. Sometimes someone would ask about something and I would have to explain that I had lied. And because lies are so much harder to remember than the truth, it often takes an event like that for me to remember and then make sure I have confessed to them. I am willing to guess that I havent cleared them all up yet. I know My Classmates are aware of many of my lies, so I have planned to say at one of our future reunions, "I know you know I was a liar in school so I thought I would clear those all up in the interest witnessing to the power of Jesus to change my life" I would then remove a list that would go to the floor. " I think it might be easier to confirm those things which were the truth.....My name was indeed Geri Gilstrap, and .....I was born in Texas".
I once told my mom upon returning from a Billy Graham crusade at the Kingdome, that there were so many converts that they ran out of volunteer counselors, ergo my counselor was none other than BG himself. Did she believe me? I don't know for sure...but she had me share the event with the church. I look back now and think she might have thought I would be too embarassed, then admit it was a lie before I got up in front of the whole church...nope. I stood at the pulpit and told the same stinking lie to all the sweet little christians looking up at me. Did they believe me? I don't know. But if they did they shouldn't have. And if they didn't wow, what a fool I was. Actually that fool thing..pretty much true whether they believed me or not.
Exaggeration is another thing. Oh I suppose it fits into a sub category of lieing, but when I do it, I just dont feel like it is the same. Some people would disagree and then if they confronted me I would have to say, "you are probably right, it is lieing". But is it more like 'making yourself BIG' to scare a bear off? or even putting emphasis on a word in order for a joke to be more funny? I think that's my favorite one. Emphasis.
Whether it is the same thing or not, it can offend people. Exaggeration when you are relaying someone's shortcomings, failures or character flaws can be HILARIOUS. However, the laughter is paid for at their cost - and the price is steals from your integrity.
Even when misleading someone to believe a certain thing in order to preserve their feelings - the truth will come out and then you can either admit to lieing(reccomended), or use emphasis to put a spin on it to preserve your integrity(doesn't work).
For instance, using the words 'always' and 'never' are ALWAYS WRONG & NEVER RIGHT. So in an attempt to salvage your integrity after the use of those words, you resort to emphasis on percentages saying 75% or more is pretty close to always (nope), and that 3 times in 30yrs is close to never (wrong again).
But you know what? If I say "The Hubby puts the seat down 25% of the time, and the other 75% of the time I fall in 50% of those times"....well you can see that doesn't have the comedic rhythm of the traditional epic toilet seat war stories which include exaggerted tales of freezing body parts which once frozen fall off, and of course near drownings.
I want to tell the truth and nothing but the truth but it is so much more fun to exaggerate. So how does this pertain to my health, my walk with God, my weight loss journey and my marriage?
Honesty is not the enemy of exageration 100% of the time. Grandparents know this. Children have been succesfully persuaded NOT to swallow watermelon seeds for only God knows how long, simply because someone said a watermelon would grow in their stomach if they did. Fisherman have known about and used exageration for years, sports fanatics have used emphasis to win arguments in bars since the first time the amount of time it took to build Rome came into question. And of course how long it took Rome to burn since so much of it was stone. There will always be the people who look at "truth' or factual findings, etc as the basis for all conversation, then there are those who know that sometimes facts are not consistently what motivates dreams to come true, battles to be won and last but not least, fun to be had!
Which brings me to the scale in my bathroom. I know that it is off. I know that the number it says I weigh is not what the number the scale at the Doctors office will say I weigh. What I do know is that the distance between what the doctors scale said in March and what the Doctorrs scales says in November is 34lbs. Just like on my scale the difference between March and November is 34lbs. I also know that I am in the "twos" now on both those scales. I started in the "threes" on both those scales. My "emphasis" is on the successful loss of 34lbs, not on the factual numbers of the Doctors scale. I can not go to the Doctors office each time I weigh, and I do not exagerate the 34lbs by rounding up to 35, I want that victory to be real when I reach it.
And to my marriage, I love my husband. There are times when I am very much in love with him. So much that it can make me cry when I miss him, or when he says something sweet and unexpected. Then there are times.....I just....wouldnt know where to hide the body...and I hate taking the garbage out. Yup, not wanting to take out the garbage has kept us together for 29years. But don't think you know me completely, I have taken it out myself. Taking out the garbage instead of him is the female equivelent of HIM bringing me flowers for no reason. You might want to write that down, girls.
My walk with God. Hmmm. I have praised him for things that can be explained by natural means, I know that somewhere in my pathology file there is a document that has the words "divine intervention" scribbled on it. I know that at the worse of the two diagnoses God used a movie to confirm that He had changed the outcome of that diagnosis even tho the cancer didnt completely dissapear - making my claims of being healed an exaggeration. I know that many people thought I would not have had cancer the second time had God truly healed me the first time. Well, All I know is I am still here. I lived. So if I wasn't healed......and I lived.....WOW isn't that a miracle too?
So onto the next miracle in my life...to have a pastor again. I love him. I have had such suspicion for pastors for years. And I will use facts here, some of my mistrust was attributed to some based on the failures of a few. That is a form of exaggeration...you hear things that sound familiar and build, exagerate, a back story that supports your suspicions. (A mind that can exaggerate well, will exaggerate often). I have had years of only Jesus to fill that pastor role and even now My need for a pastor is filled by Jesus, but I know God wants us to have pastors and fellowship because loners get weird. I do not take everything my Pastor says as perfect and without flaw, the grace of God in his life, and mine, covers the places where there are holes in both our finite minds. But I would rather live having something God calls me to have, and struggle with it, than to live in fear and suspicion without it. Ultimately, what I am saying is I choose to exaggerate grace based on my understanding -and that understanding is: that I do not and can not fully comprehend it's factual extent.
Thanks for listening, Geri
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