Take That!

In Genesis 50:20 it says, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good."

Indeed.

Last week some dirty rotten, no good, low down, rat fink hacked my e-mail account. They told all my e-mail contacts that I needed help, and would they please respond back to that e-mail?  (They were phishing for money.)Well, I don't know how many actually did, and I hope no one took the bait, but many e-mailed me back. What did I need? I got at least a dozen phone calls from worried friends and acquaintances and business acquaintances asking me what was wrong and what did I need? I got Facebook messages from all sorts of friends wanting to know  how  could they  help? All these people (even a customer service rep. from a company I do business with) wanted to know what they could do. 

Of course, many people recognized it for what it was because of the somewhat stilted use of the language. But maybe others thought I was just embarrassed to have to ask for help.

Do I deserve that amount of kindness? I don't know.

Anyway, I am really, truly touched. 

I guess I would expect close friends to respond. But folks I hadn't seen since high school, folks I haven't worked with in over fifteen years, much less customer service folks, well, I was surprised at the response. 

Well, more than surprised.

Thankful.

Yeah, that's the word.  

Just Another Day

You know how you start your day with optimism and hope? And then you get a kidney stone.

Or your back goes out and won't come home.

Or your water suddenly takes on the color of the creek after a horrible storm.

Ah, yes. I believe I may have mentioned some of that before.

So, here's a new one: Last night the cats were staring at the food dish with suspicion. For good reason, too. It was swarming with tiny black ants. Kill, kill, kill.

Husband said he would get out the stuff we use every year and put around the side of the window and counter where they come in despite us sealing it with everything including and up to Bazooka bubble gum.

But did  he? Noooo.  He said it was because he didn't want to smell it all night, and I really don't blame him.

It is natural, so it doesn't smell like chemicals (think Raid!). It smells like - well, imagine you go into your local  health food store and they  have lit every candle, every incense stick, opened every essential oil  and turned the fan on - that's what it smells like.

This morning, when I opened the dishwasher, hundreds were inside it. GROSS.

Kill, kill, kill.

And have I mentioned we have  not had a snow yet? I mean, I ain't asking for much. Just one snow.

Rant over.

For now.

Reporting In

In the voice of Sheriff Andy Taylor: "Whoo wee, I've had me a time!"

For those of you who know me, or are on my Facebook page, you know what I'm talking about. Two kidney stones less than a week apart. The second one causing a U.T.I.  I did something mysterious to my back during the last kidney stone exit that had me pretty  much bed fast for over 2 weeks. 

The chiropractor traded in their Honda for a Lexus.

Ha, just kidding. Sorta.

My poor  massage therapist's hands are wore plumb out.

I have missed four Sundays worth of church, and didn't see my Mother for nearly that long.

She wasn't very happy about that, she's used to seeing me at least once a week. 

I missed meetings and fun stuff, including celebrating my 34th wedding anniversary and my 65th birthday. 

Well, the birthday miss maybe was a good thing. Maybe I can ignore it happened.

I obviously haven't blogged. I haven't worked on the novel I thought I'd be progressing nicely in. 

You know you're in bad shape when you cancel the cleaning ladies because you can't stand the thought of noise and people, so you'll just live in the dirt. 

Dirt is easier to wallow in, anyway.

But I'm better now. Still not 100% as they say, but hopefully headed that way.

Who knows? I may start ripping through that novel soon.

Bless My Heart

You know how folks say we ourselves are our own worst enemies? 

Well, I believe it, after the episodes I've pulled lately.

Firstly, the other night I went to bed and could not get comfortable. It seemed the longer I lay there, the  more pain I was in - my back, my legs and feet. Plus, I just didn't feel right. 

Finally, around 2:00 a.m. a teeny tiny light bulb came on above my head and I realized I had not taken my night medications. Nothing for the neuropathy and especially my blood pressure medications. I got up, took my blood pressure (which was up). My drinking glass was dry, a good hint. So I took my night medications, woke Daughter up (there's no point in waking Husband up, he wouldn't remember it) and said, "If I die it's because I've overdosed on blood pressure medications, but don't worry, I didn't." 

She raised her head off the pillow and squinted at me. I don't know if this is because she didn't have on her glasses, or because I'd woke her up, or because she thought I'd finally  lost my marbles.

Perhaps all three.

Then, a few days later, I worked in the studio till dark. I knew I'd sat too long as I could no longer feel much from the knees down, but I'd been working on something I thought pretty important. I called the house for Husband to come with a flashlight and walk me back to the house.

Now, I have a heat pad that sits on the floor to rest my feet on, and that helps. I'd had my shoes off with my feet resting on the pad. When Husband arrived, I felt around with my (numb) feet and slipped my shoes on. I shuffled to the door and commenced the walk back. Every step was agony. Each step was worse than the one before. It was awful.

When I got back to the house, I looked down and saw my shoes were on the wrong feet.

Well, that explained a lot.

Till next time!

You Just Can't Trust 'em

I've come to the conclusion that the most untrustworthy people on the planet are not politicians. 

They come in second. (Or third, depending on  where you stand regarding attorneys.)

First prize goes to meteorologists.

They talk, I think, to get themselves all excited.

"It's gonna snow! A foot! Well, maybe an inch! There may (or may not be) ice, too.  Be sure and put chains on the tires of the car before you go out and fist fight your neighbor for bread and milk. And possibly cat food."

Then they "go to" someone out in the wilderness of north Georgia who is dressed like an Eskimo, and is showing a snowflake that someone has preserved in their freezer since the blizzard of 1993. They look into the camera with a dramatic expression and solemnly say, "This is what you may (or may not) experience by tomorrow morning." Then he/she squints up  into the night sky and reports they might feel some frozen precipitation hitting their face as they speak.

The next morning-which is bright and sunny, I might add-they are all smiles and talk about how the snow missed us, but just barely.

Once again they go to their partner in the wilderness of north Georgia, who is now in flip flops and a Hawaiian flare-dee shirt and sipping an icy co-coler. All toothy grin, he/she talks about what a close call it was, all said between slurps of their cold drink.

I'm sick of it. I'm thinking about suing for pain and suffering. I don't want a blizzard; I ain't crazy.  But a few inches of beautiful white fluffy snow would be nice.

It is January, after all.

Just stop talking about it. If it comes, it comes. and if it doesn't I'll keep on my flip flops and Hawaiian flare-dee shirt and call it a day.

At least I don't need bread and milk now.  

Just Imagine

You know, God chooses to do things the hard way a lot, it seems. At least, it seems that way to me, in my life. I do say that once I agree, it becomes easier, because He enables me to do the task at hand.

So I figure He really had to stay close to Mary and Joseph though all that ordeal.

I often think about poor Mary. The backlash she must have experienced. How her parents must have felt when she told them she was pregnant.

Here she was, engaged, legally bound to this man, and the kid ain't his.

She's a teenager, and although that meant something very different then, she was still very young.

And poor Joseph. He must have been stunned. How could this be true (not that she was pregnant with God, but how could she have betrayed him?)

The decision he saw himself faced with. Stone her to death? No, he couldn't do that. Not to his Mary. Even if she had done this - this - horrible thing to him.

And how terrifying for him, for Gabriel to appear and tell him Mary really wasn't lying. She hadn't had sex with someone else. She was a vessel to carry the Son of God.

Mind blowing. Life altering.

Such relief Mary must have felt when Joseph came to her and stood by her side. Her parents probably felt relief, too. Embarrassed, sure, as Joseph's parents were. But they were legally bound, they'd made a mistake, and they were making it right by finishing up the marriage and giving this baby a name.

Or perhaps they believed. We don't know.

We do  know Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth, probably before she told Joseph.

And received confirmation when Elizabeth opened the door. She knew - and even more miraculous - the baby within her knew and lept for sheer joy!

If I'd been Mary, I probably would have thought, "It really is true! I'm not losing my mind!"

But Mary may have been much more secure in what God had said to her. Either way, the confirmation must have been very welcome.

And then comes the decree from the good old interfering government that everyone has to go to their ancestral home to be taxed.

Eighty miles, probably on foot, or maybe a donkey. And Mary so far into the pregnancy she must have been miserable after the first of those eighty miles.

Think of it ladies. When you were in the last month of your pregnancy, could you have walked eighty miles?

You know the story. Not a hotel room to be found. Finally someone took pity on them and offered them a stable where the animals were. At least they had a place to stop. Maybe there was clean hay and Joseph could try and make a bed for Mary.

She was in labor. Nobody there but her and Joseph, who probably wasn't exactly mid-wife material.

I know what would have been going through my mind, "At least I know the baby will live", because after all, He was God's son.

And poor, poor Joseph. Can you image how terrified he was?

And even after the baby was born, and Mary seemed like she would live, he had the daunting fact in front of him: Joseph would be responsible for being the earthly father to the Son of the Living God.

And that was just the beginning. No telling what they felt when that Heavenly host showed up

Merry Christmas, ya'll.

A Fan of My Fan

So much  has been happening lately, I've barely had time to think about it, much less write about it.

But one thing stands out, and I gotta write it down.

I had a book signing a few days ago. it was pouring rain, and I was a little concerned nobody would bother to come out in this cold wet mess.

I began to cry with the first person I saw.

No, I'm not being silly or dramatic. Here's the story behind the tears:

Every book signing I've ever had, Mrs. Defore has shown up. She was a tiny elderly woman. I had graduated high school with one of her daughters. Her daughters made sure she got there. She was always all dressed up, her eyes full of sparkle and excitement. She said she loved my books almost as much as she loved me and couldn't wait to start reading. 

I always found myself watching for her out of the corner of my eye, as I was turning into her biggest fan.

Mrs. Defore passed away last year. As soon as I heard the news, my heart broke a little. I knew I wouldn't be seeing her eager happiness at my next book signing.

So when I looked up and saw her daughter walking down the sidewalk, I began to weep.

As she came though the door she, too, began to cry and we just held each other for a moment.

"Mother loved you and your books so much. There was just no way I could not come today. I want a book, and I want you to sign it in memory of her."

I wrote, "In memory of my beloved friend Jewel"

Suddenly, even if no one else turned up (which, thank goodness, they did), my day was worth it.

I miss you, Jewel Defore.