Rambling Prose

Just a few random thoughts:

If we have our own homes in Heaven, on the New Earth, I wonder what mine will look like. I love my little house now. Of course, if I'd had more money, it would have been bigger, but the changes would not have been huge.

I guess I would like the same house, only clean all the time.

We got babies! The Eastern Blue Birds  have finally busted from their shells, and are chirping like mad. It's keeping Mama and Papa very, very busy. They look exhausted.

My mother is reading my book, "Out on a Limb of the Family Tree" again. I was flattered. But then she told me she'd run out of anything else to read...

I got a perm today. My 'real' hair is so straight you could plumb a house with it. It is also very fine. So without  a perm it sticks to my head like a cap. If you are Daughter's age, that's attractive. If you are my age, it is sad.

So right now I look like a demented fuzzball and smell strange and damp. But it will get better, I promise.(I hear you ask, well, how could it get any worse? I know, right?)

Why is some joker calling me two or three times a day, letting it ring three times and hanging up? If you answer before then, there is no one there. The caller i.d. says, "Out of Area". Duh. I figure it's a computer calling me, raising prank phone calls to a new height. But if it just happens to be you, knock it off, will ya?

Two of my favorite authors are Stephen King and Jodi Picoult. Both of them have made a grave error, though. I've gone on their websites and let them know, too. I'm sure they were overwhelmed with thankfulness. Both of them have had southern characters in a book, and both of those characters have said something to the effect of, "Ya'll just don't understand." Now this is said when it is a one on one conversation. Makes me grit my teeth. I explained very politely that the word ya'll (or y'all) is used only when speaking to two or more, not when addressing one person.

I bet I get a thank you note from both of them. ADDED NOTE: Jodi Picoult did respond to me. She said she didn't do her due diligent research on Southern speak. I thanked her for responding. I appreciate it!
But you'd think with all the money they spend on researching their books - nuclear physics, courtroom scenes, aliens, hospital procedures, etc., they could spend a quarter and call somebody down here and ask a simple question.

I would never attempt to have a character from New Jersey or Maine or any Yankee place in one of my books without an OFFICIAL consultant.

Sunday I was sitting in church and crossed my legs. I noticed the sole of  my shoe didn't look like the shoes I thought I had on. I put my foot back down on the floor, slid off my shoe....and discovered I had on my bedroom shoes. Now, to give me credit, they look like dockers on top. And that's the shoes I thought I had on. Funny thing is, as I was looking at my shoes, I noticed Husband's feet. His socks were not only different colors, they were each a different pattern.

Well, I guess that's all for now. The phone is ringing. I'm sure it's Out of Area again.

Stop it, okay?

Is It Hot In Here, Or Is It Just Me?

If spontaneous combustion really ever occurred, I'm sure it would happen to a woman in the middle of a full blown hot flash.

WHEW!

For instance: Sitting in church, all nicely dressed, cozy and comfortable. Then a sudden heat begins to erupt in my chest and I reach for something to fan with. The hymnal is too heavy, my husband's tie too flimsy, plus, when I yank on it, it makes him get too close to me!  Get away! I don't need more body heat.

I reach into the young Mother's diaper bag sitting next to me and pull out a disposable diaper. These are good, they are light weight and can absorb your moisture. (Don't pick up a used one by mistake, they are way too heavy).

Now, I know the pastor may look at you funny, sitting there on the third row, right there on the end, waving a diaper over the top of your head. That's why it's very important that you pick a pastor who is of a certain age, that way he will figure out pretty quick what is going on, and maybe he won't lose his stride or his place in his sermon.

Now, if a diaper isn't handy, I have considered using my skirt, flopping it up and down, and possibly over my head. I'd take off my blouse, but I'm pretty sure that's against the  Baptist by-laws, not that I've had time to read them yet. I've only been a member for fifteen years, and I'm a busy person.

The bulletin is okay, fairly large and sturdy enough that if you don't go into warp speed, it won't bend right in the middle of a fanning.

Once, during choir practice I started having a bad hot flash (not that any of them are actually good!). I was trying to fan with the choir book, which is pretty heavy and unwieldy, but I was desperate. Suddenly I felt a cool breeze on the back of my head, and when I turned, three middle aged men were frantically fanning away. I appreciated it so much I sent their wives thank you notes. They have really raised those men right!

Of course, as soon as that sucker is over and the heat starts to die down, I begin to feel chilled. I smack my husband on the arm and tell him to stop fanning me with his Bible, he's freezing me to death!

Of course that hurts his feelings, and he slams the Bible shut and then he can't find Habakkuk again.

Habakkuk has always been hard to find.

His wife probably  had  hot flashes too, and he's been laying low ever since.