We had a little pre-Christmas trip that turned out to be unexpected in a couple of ways. Maybe more than a couple. We had planned to spend a night in Lindsborg, Kansas on our way to Wichita; but I hadn't considered the fact that the small Swedish town was going to be decorated for Christmas nor that it had snowed four inches the night before we got there. It was splendid with shocks of wheat tied to the lamp posts, Christmas elves on the shop facades, and the Swedish Dala horses everywhere.
He Who Must Be Obeyed surprised me with purchasing Swedish clogs for me. No, not one pair to wear home, but two more to be hand painted and shipped when completed. The Swedish immigrant shopkeeper was going to paint them, daisies on the blue, rosemallen on the red, the Friday after Thanksgiving. She is going home to Sweden for Christmas. I don't know who was happier over the purchase, she or I, and isn't it fun when that happens!
We enjoyed Thanksgiving with our son and family in Wichita. Good food, good company, Christmas decorations every where one looked, it was a Thanksgiving to remember, good in every way.
The adventures never ended, either. We spent a night in Atchison, KS and had dinner at Paolucci's, an Italian Restaurant founded in the mid 1800's. Our server was Joe, a first generation descendant, who gave us a history lesson with every course. Lewis and Clark's expedition spent July 4th, 1804 in the area and celebrated the first Independance Day in the American West there. It would be fun to go back on Amelia Earhart Day.
Now that we are past the First Sunday in Advent, it is time to get serious about Christmas. No, I am not going to let the secular commercial world tarnish it for me. But I do have to make a decision about the card/letter thing. Yes or no? At this point, I don't know.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Lorem Ipsum
Lorem Ipsum. Lotte, from Australia, shared the website with my Elders list. She has been a wonderful source of information to all of us. She is a newly retired University Reference Librarian and knows everything in the world, I think.
Here is an example of it: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Integer nec odio nec risus scelerisque dignissim. Nam pulvinar est et nisl. Duis in tellus. Aenean cursus fermentum est. Sed leo nisl, elementum vel, scelerisque non, porta vitae, tellus. Nullam faucibus, lectus ac feugiat mollis, nisl magna ultrices wisi, sit amet gravida odio sapien nec erat. Etiam.Generated 1 paragraph, 55 words, 360 bytes of Lorem Ipsum
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. It was popularised in the 1960s with the release of Letraset sheets containing Lorem Ipsum passages, and more recently with desktop publishing software like Aldus PageMaker including versions of Lorem Ipsum.
I knew I had seen it before. It is my MSOffice templates. I had always wondered why it was used and how dumb was I anyway? Now you have a nice little tidbit to share over pumpkin pie when the in-laws are getting too testy.
If you mouse click the Elders link, you will find a "Meet the Elders" section. There I am, with He Who Must Be Obeyed. We have been emailing as a group for eleven years.
Here is an example of it: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Integer nec odio nec risus scelerisque dignissim. Nam pulvinar est et nisl. Duis in tellus. Aenean cursus fermentum est. Sed leo nisl, elementum vel, scelerisque non, porta vitae, tellus. Nullam faucibus, lectus ac feugiat mollis, nisl magna ultrices wisi, sit amet gravida odio sapien nec erat. Etiam.Generated 1 paragraph, 55 words, 360 bytes of Lorem Ipsum
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. It was popularised in the 1960s with the release of Letraset sheets containing Lorem Ipsum passages, and more recently with desktop publishing software like Aldus PageMaker including versions of Lorem Ipsum.
I knew I had seen it before. It is my MSOffice templates. I had always wondered why it was used and how dumb was I anyway? Now you have a nice little tidbit to share over pumpkin pie when the in-laws are getting too testy.
If you mouse click the Elders link, you will find a "Meet the Elders" section. There I am, with He Who Must Be Obeyed. We have been emailing as a group for eleven years.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
The Pointing Finger
The saying is familiar. If you point your finger at someone, there are three pointing back at you. Three is a number that suits this situation.
I am in deep paska with half of our adult children and maybe four of the six. I can never tell exactly. When this happens I play the scene over and over in my mind looking for clues to explain to myself just what happened and why. I think with the number getting so high, I have to figure out if I am unreasonable, crazy, or both. Sometimes I think I am an easy target, being so cursed with introvertism, combined with the feeling that I am right. Of course the fact remains that it takes at least two to disagree. One never yells at a tree alone in a forest.
Last night during dinner all hell broken loose, or maybe more of that hell to pay now, and the rest will come later. It is something that drives me to my knees. I hate a scene. When it happens during a meal, I cannot swallow. Food and fighting do not mix except in a high school lunch room.
The 18 years I lived under my parent's roof, I never experienced scenes like those I have observed, or been a part of, over the years with the new name I was given 50 years ago. Getting used to listening to yelling and observing anger is nothing I am apparently going to get used to either.
It ends by my lying awake in the night with the replay, which never has an ending, trying to sort it out with my roommate of 50 years, and replaying it again in broad daylight. Nothing is working. I should go right to the source of the problem, but simply cannot take a chance on the incident taking off again where it stopped originally by people walking out in a huff.
The incident was with a daughter and her husband over a turkey. He Who Must Be Obeyed was simply stubbornly silent and unbending. I made everything worse when I used the word 'negligent.' I should have just kept my mouth shut. That is perhaps the answer to it all. Maybe I should have walked out with my last bite in my throat.
I am getting very depressed and exhausted at being so, like my mother called me, compliant. From the very beginning of my life I would rather comply than get pulled into a controversy. So now in my age, when I do not comply, it infurates people and they question my motives. I saw a son-in-law boil with anger and flash a look at his wife with the very mention of instant mashed potatoes. At that they left. Now how bad is that!
I am in deep paska with half of our adult children and maybe four of the six. I can never tell exactly. When this happens I play the scene over and over in my mind looking for clues to explain to myself just what happened and why. I think with the number getting so high, I have to figure out if I am unreasonable, crazy, or both. Sometimes I think I am an easy target, being so cursed with introvertism, combined with the feeling that I am right. Of course the fact remains that it takes at least two to disagree. One never yells at a tree alone in a forest.
Last night during dinner all hell broken loose, or maybe more of that hell to pay now, and the rest will come later. It is something that drives me to my knees. I hate a scene. When it happens during a meal, I cannot swallow. Food and fighting do not mix except in a high school lunch room.
The 18 years I lived under my parent's roof, I never experienced scenes like those I have observed, or been a part of, over the years with the new name I was given 50 years ago. Getting used to listening to yelling and observing anger is nothing I am apparently going to get used to either.
It ends by my lying awake in the night with the replay, which never has an ending, trying to sort it out with my roommate of 50 years, and replaying it again in broad daylight. Nothing is working. I should go right to the source of the problem, but simply cannot take a chance on the incident taking off again where it stopped originally by people walking out in a huff.
The incident was with a daughter and her husband over a turkey. He Who Must Be Obeyed was simply stubbornly silent and unbending. I made everything worse when I used the word 'negligent.' I should have just kept my mouth shut. That is perhaps the answer to it all. Maybe I should have walked out with my last bite in my throat.
I am getting very depressed and exhausted at being so, like my mother called me, compliant. From the very beginning of my life I would rather comply than get pulled into a controversy. So now in my age, when I do not comply, it infurates people and they question my motives. I saw a son-in-law boil with anger and flash a look at his wife with the very mention of instant mashed potatoes. At that they left. Now how bad is that!
Monday, November 15, 2004
Things One Can Learn From Staying in Bed Watching TV
I did not go out to walk this morning, instead I crawled back under the covers and turned on C-Span II. I was hoping to catch the last of Book TV from the weekend and what I got was an eye-opening and brain snapping view of one Tammy Bruce. I had never heard of her, as my flirting with NOW ended almost as fast as it began with a women's lunch group on the campus of the University of Nebraska at Omaha in 1975. Believe me that was a mind bender for this Stepford Wife of the '50's.
Back to Tammy Bruce. She really irritated the group at Florida State University. They were anxious to get to the mike and tell her so, too, after her presentation. The main thrust of her speech "Contrary to Public Belief: How Conservative Ideas Empower Women, Gays and Other Minorities," was that group think and labeling are divisive and dangerous.
When I googled her name she came up on, of all things, NewsMax. I should have expected it. A Democrat voting for Bush is as celebrated as an athiest becoming born again. She has many traits that I had no idea NewsMax would listen to. But then what do I know by reading Itar Tass and the BBC.
Jeff Kooperman has some very strong things to say about her. Just to show you my ignorance, who is He?
I guess I am wondering why we didn't hear about her prior to the election? Are people like her shut up by the mainstream media? If I had been reading NewsMax, I would have probably been aware of her stridant politics.
Back to Tammy Bruce. She really irritated the group at Florida State University. They were anxious to get to the mike and tell her so, too, after her presentation. The main thrust of her speech "Contrary to Public Belief: How Conservative Ideas Empower Women, Gays and Other Minorities," was that group think and labeling are divisive and dangerous.
When I googled her name she came up on, of all things, NewsMax. I should have expected it. A Democrat voting for Bush is as celebrated as an athiest becoming born again. She has many traits that I had no idea NewsMax would listen to. But then what do I know by reading Itar Tass and the BBC.
Jeff Kooperman has some very strong things to say about her. Just to show you my ignorance, who is He?
I guess I am wondering why we didn't hear about her prior to the election? Are people like her shut up by the mainstream media? If I had been reading NewsMax, I would have probably been aware of her stridant politics.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Annoying WalMart and Funny Dreams
We just got home from WalMart. Every time I go, which is as seldom as possible, I swear I will never set foot in one of those places again. The front door looked like the back alley back door of an inner city warehouse. It is Omaha's newest WalMart. How crazy is that?
I observed the young guy checking people out and he nailed a couple who were trying to get off with a $17.00 CD lying flat in the bottom of the cart they were wheeling off. He was good, authoritive, and sent them back in to pay for it. He was one assertive guy in a wheel chair. I was waiting for He Who Must Be Obeyed to check out and mentioned to the other woman at the door what a good job he did. "He has been with us four years," she said. At the rate he was going he was more than making up for his wages. It was the best thing of the day.
We blabbed at our circle meeting this morning at church instead of really getting into the parable of forgiving. I needed to talk about that, because my daughter cannot forgive me for my past transgressions. The more she cannot forgive me the more annoyed I get at her. We are on a vicious circle with this maddening unforgiveness. A few months ago I got a four page letter in the mail from her detailing all my failings as a mother and as a person since she was very small. Now she is very large and my transgressions have increased with her size and age. I should not have read the letter, and I should have burned it after I did. Maybe I won't read it again. Or maybe I should when I get to thinking I am too perfect. There they are, God and my daughter keeping track of me for the reckoning. From her it came before my death. The deadly list...now it is hell to pay. I hope it isn't going to be pay now and pay later.
I had a good thing happen. I woke myself up laughing out loud last night. I laughed so hard I got into that snorting sort of laughing. I had the funniest dream and thought I would remember it forever I can't recall it at all. All I can remember is the laughs. Really funny dreams. How good is that!
I observed the young guy checking people out and he nailed a couple who were trying to get off with a $17.00 CD lying flat in the bottom of the cart they were wheeling off. He was good, authoritive, and sent them back in to pay for it. He was one assertive guy in a wheel chair. I was waiting for He Who Must Be Obeyed to check out and mentioned to the other woman at the door what a good job he did. "He has been with us four years," she said. At the rate he was going he was more than making up for his wages. It was the best thing of the day.
We blabbed at our circle meeting this morning at church instead of really getting into the parable of forgiving. I needed to talk about that, because my daughter cannot forgive me for my past transgressions. The more she cannot forgive me the more annoyed I get at her. We are on a vicious circle with this maddening unforgiveness. A few months ago I got a four page letter in the mail from her detailing all my failings as a mother and as a person since she was very small. Now she is very large and my transgressions have increased with her size and age. I should not have read the letter, and I should have burned it after I did. Maybe I won't read it again. Or maybe I should when I get to thinking I am too perfect. There they are, God and my daughter keeping track of me for the reckoning. From her it came before my death. The deadly list...now it is hell to pay. I hope it isn't going to be pay now and pay later.
I had a good thing happen. I woke myself up laughing out loud last night. I laughed so hard I got into that snorting sort of laughing. I had the funniest dream and thought I would remember it forever I can't recall it at all. All I can remember is the laughs. Really funny dreams. How good is that!
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Sunday Afternoons
Sunday afternoons are the strangest times of the week. I often look forward to the newspaper, so alluringly large and heavy, the advertisements more formidable than the news. I have started tossing the whole lot into the recycle bin unopened as they are such a waste of time, paper and energy. I am feeling cynical about advertising; I have become a demographic, used for my lack of ethnicity, age, and zip code. How annoying to be used like that.
Instead of sitting down with the paper, I made a couple of bannana breads. They smell good cooling on the counter.
He Who Must Be Obeyed arrived home from helping his brother since Wednesday. No, he isn't even able to chat. He is fast asleep in his chair. He looks a little worn out, actually. I am not waking him up.
I could go out and mulch the leaves in the front yard, but really haven't the heart to do it. Instead, I will put a chicken in the oven to roast, read Hosea for next week's study, maybe get to that newspaper.
Sunday afternoons can be a Holy Sabbath, or just plain ungodly long with random thoughts accompanied by the rise and fall of an old man's snoring.
Instead of sitting down with the paper, I made a couple of bannana breads. They smell good cooling on the counter.
He Who Must Be Obeyed arrived home from helping his brother since Wednesday. No, he isn't even able to chat. He is fast asleep in his chair. He looks a little worn out, actually. I am not waking him up.
I could go out and mulch the leaves in the front yard, but really haven't the heart to do it. Instead, I will put a chicken in the oven to roast, read Hosea for next week's study, maybe get to that newspaper.
Sunday afternoons can be a Holy Sabbath, or just plain ungodly long with random thoughts accompanied by the rise and fall of an old man's snoring.
Friday, November 05, 2004
College Student's Financial Lament
He Who Must Be Obeyed called. We haven't seen one another since Wednesday morning. My neighbor across the street asked me if I was getting lonely. I don't think I am capable of it. So then why do I groan over being cosmically lonely periodically? It makes no sense. I was glad he called, glad he hasn't hurt himself, and glad he is coming home sometime on Sunday.
My mundane life revolves around a clean house, a perfectly clean back yard, a sparkling clean, cold swimming pool, even my trash cans are clean. I am one happy Finn.
In the morning I shall put the Altar Flowers in urns beside the Altar and arrange the six white roses and filler in a crystal vase on the Altar. It is All Saints Sunday, six members have died during the year. I will be preparing the items for an infant baptism for the 9:15 service. The question is shall I go to early church (uugghh) or go after it is over and sprint with the set up in the 15 minutes between services and then go to Loud Church. I need Liturgy so I had better go to 8:00. This is called plinking or plogging as I plan and blog.
My college student grandchildren are lamenting college costs and their financial burdens. My folks borrowed my first year's college costs. They could not afford to borrow more, so I took the harder road of marriage, five kids, one foster niece; and 17 years from that first year of college we all ate bologna sandwiches and mixed powdered skim milk, as I paid as I went, to get my degree at 40. We all suffered. If I hadn't been such a bumpkin, I surely could have gotten an academic scholarship as I graduated Cum Laude. I didn't know about that sort of thing and had no one to guide me into the logical route of graduation at 22. I did get 36 credit hours that first year and that gave me a good jump at the new start when I was 37.
Do you hear the violins in the background? Of course I walked to school forever as we didn't even own a car until I was 17. In the snow, now here come the brasses, coming home for lunch as there was no hot lunch at school, the basses and drums rise to a crechendo. A tiny little flute sounds, I walk home from college, three miles, as we only have one car. The violins rise and fall and the flute fades away. I graduated without one college loan, the knowledge that I could do anything, signed a teaching contract and my 40th year was indeed the beginning of my life as a person.
It rained and the old man's pipe went out.
My mundane life revolves around a clean house, a perfectly clean back yard, a sparkling clean, cold swimming pool, even my trash cans are clean. I am one happy Finn.
In the morning I shall put the Altar Flowers in urns beside the Altar and arrange the six white roses and filler in a crystal vase on the Altar. It is All Saints Sunday, six members have died during the year. I will be preparing the items for an infant baptism for the 9:15 service. The question is shall I go to early church (uugghh) or go after it is over and sprint with the set up in the 15 minutes between services and then go to Loud Church. I need Liturgy so I had better go to 8:00. This is called plinking or plogging as I plan and blog.
My college student grandchildren are lamenting college costs and their financial burdens. My folks borrowed my first year's college costs. They could not afford to borrow more, so I took the harder road of marriage, five kids, one foster niece; and 17 years from that first year of college we all ate bologna sandwiches and mixed powdered skim milk, as I paid as I went, to get my degree at 40. We all suffered. If I hadn't been such a bumpkin, I surely could have gotten an academic scholarship as I graduated Cum Laude. I didn't know about that sort of thing and had no one to guide me into the logical route of graduation at 22. I did get 36 credit hours that first year and that gave me a good jump at the new start when I was 37.
Do you hear the violins in the background? Of course I walked to school forever as we didn't even own a car until I was 17. In the snow, now here come the brasses, coming home for lunch as there was no hot lunch at school, the basses and drums rise to a crechendo. A tiny little flute sounds, I walk home from college, three miles, as we only have one car. The violins rise and fall and the flute fades away. I graduated without one college loan, the knowledge that I could do anything, signed a teaching contract and my 40th year was indeed the beginning of my life as a person.
It rained and the old man's pipe went out.
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