How Do I look?

So I was talking with a newly married friend the other day about "How do I look?" She has not been married long enough to know to steer away from such a question. Why? Because any God fearing man in his right mind is actually going to answer the question. Most of the time we ask this question after searching and searching through our closet to find just one thing suitable to the event and we know it is the only thing left to leave any kind of dignity intact. So we get dressed and ask our poor unsuspecting husbands "How do I look?" Tim and I have this worked out, I tell him exactly what I want to hear and he is glad to oblige "Tell me I'm beautiful." I can say at any time and he will respond with enthusiasm "You're beautiful." Most times he even steps it up a notch to "You're gorgeous." or "you're the most beautiful woman in the world." I Love it! I know it may seem lame to others but I don't have unrealistic expectations for him to read my mind and it works well. I have had people tell me it isn't the same if they have to ask. But if it is important it is worth asking for.

Men at Work

It's a funny thing, Men at work. Right now we are having our sewer re routed. Exciting, I know, but it is something we have been needing to do for about two years now. Although I am glad to get it done I feel trapped. Yep, that's it just trapped. OK trapped and a little anxious. We usually tackle enormous projects like this, by ourselves, with no help, no experience and no knowledge of what we're doing. So to leave it up to the professionals just makes me nervous. We considered tackling this by ourselves. Anyone can dig a hole, right? We have friends with machinery.

Today, I will sit and "supervise" (from the front bedroom) until I can no longer go to the bathroom then I will leave, but I will still feel anxious... and trapped. I will feel like I have to get back home because I am the homeowner and I have to make any unforseen decisions. That's the man's job. Yes this was supposed to be done last week when the man was home. Today is his first day back at his real job. If it wasn't for those people with the slab leaks it would have been done last Thursday, darn plumbing emergencies. So I find myself opening blinds to look out and wondering what it's like out there, and trapped. Probably not nearly so much as the dog however. They are doing exactly what Nestle has dreamed of her whole life: Digging up the entire back yard! And she can't help or watch or study technique, or go potty, or leave. So I suppose I have a cell mate.

Tonight the project will be completed and waiting for inspection. Tomorrow the long deep hole will be filled in and the plumbers will take an enormous amount of money from me. All that will be left is figuring out a way to keep Nestle from digging it up again. Why aren't there professionals for that?

Rock and a hard place

It's the proverbial rock and hard place. I must say, if I would learn to keep my mouth shut I wouldn't have nearly so much to concern myself with.

Thus the rock:
I was at a staff meeting and my boss asks "So what do ya'll think about E-tools" the room becomes a buzz with "I love ... It's great when ... My members just adore ... " and me totally in awe of the whole situation. You really must understand you can hardly navigate this web site, even entering a search is abnormal. So (keep in mind she asked what we thought) I said "I just plain don't like it" figuring there would be at least one other person that would feel the same way. There wasn't, and I got the idea immediately that she really didn't want to know what we thought. She proceeded to go into how we are going to be expected to push this part of the program and we all need to get more familiar with E-tools.

So, the hard place:
I get an email from my boss that there will be a contest to see who can locate 14 things on this medieval site and if your correct you will be in a prize drawing. Now this is not mandatory thank goodness but I try it out any way to make a few brownie points. After an hour and a half of 3 questions I was done. Now I hate the stupid E-tools even more! I don't think this was the desired result. I couldn't help but think that growing my disinterest into hatred was not a good idea. But I opened my mouth at staff meeting. Am I vane or will my boss be watching and waiting to see if I (me specifically) did the exercise or not?

So here is my miff with the whole thing:
Too many people ask questions that they don't really want the answer to. Are we afraid of the truth or do we not prepare for it. Are we just naive and think that every one thinks exactly the same way we do. When will I learn all the canned answers for all the stupid questions people really don't want answers to.

The Bills

Ahhh yes it is time for everyones favorite task, the bills. I wonder sometimes how much we cripple ourselves by making things easier. We have a debit card so we don't have to write checks, automatic withdrawls and automatic deposits, a computer to keep up with transactions, balance, and let us know when things are comming due, and I still manage to spend hours doing the bills each month. It seems that no matter how much you have going for you, it still comes down to the pencil and paper. Debits vs. Credits. Bottom line, one mistake and it's the end of the world as we know it. Why is it that such a simple thing becomes an insurmountable task just by the bank putting things in a diferent order than you do. I hearby make a proclomation that in the evolution of this new cashless society we seem to be falling into, the bank needs to come to me to get a balance! All in favor?

My baby sister's baby girl

This is my new niece in her loving parents arms. Tim composed, took, and edited the picture. It has been so great to see him doing what he loves so much again. It was a fun time. Rachel is certainly not camera shy (that is definitely inherited).

Rachel (the baby), has been born into an estrogen thirsty generation of our family. As the first female child born from any of four siblings, all girls, she has a lot to live up to. At least there will be many things to expect. For example: she will always have the attention of everyone in the room; she will be able to con her Daddy into many things he never planned; she won't be allowed to date before thirty (in fact her parents will strongly consider an all girls school); she will be referred to as "princess' for the majority of her life; and she will never be in need of anything pink. Not really a bad life to look forward to. I know that God has many blessings for her. May He pour them out unceasingly!

Welcome to the world, baby girl.

Just for Rebecca

I am so glad I have a great friend like you to troubleshoot my blog wilth.

Parking in the Lot

Neat story happened the other day. I was doing my normal Tuesday afternoon deliveries for Threads of Love. I usually check in the church office to see who we have in the Hospital and do a little visiting while I am at the hospital. If I have visits to make, I park in the lot; but if not I park in a delivery space. This day I had forgotten to check the office board and was contemplating, "It would be really easy to just deliver and be gone today. But I would hate to miss someone I know. I'll just park and call when I get in; the 1/2 mile walk would do me good anyway." Lo and behold there was no one in the hospital that day so I began the reverse 1/2 mile back to the lot thinking to myself, "I could have parked up front and been gone right away." as a lady walked briskly toward me and asked,
"Do you have a light?" I looked up to see a rail of a woman looking desperately back at me. She was thin, very thin, her clothes probably children's size hung on her. She had disheveled hair, and only one whole tooth in front, black with decay; the others looked as if they had been filed off slowly by cavities that were still there. In her hand she held in her hand a cigarette.
My mind began to spark with thoughts like "Lady, the last thing you need is a light" and "I'm not going to help you kill yourself" the spirit calmed me enough to rationalize "She is at a Hospital and probably stressed out, now is not the time to tackle her short falls" So I looked back apologetically and answered,
"I'm sorry I don't" I turned, now truly remorseful, that I couldn't help her out; or could I? "Hey, I've got one in my car" I called as I saw a relief sweep across her face "come with me." I began some small talk, "Why are you up here today?"
"My son" she said "he has appendicitis. They said it wasn't and then his Dr in Gatesville, that's where we's from, Gatesville, said he[Dr] thought it was[appendicitis], and we needed to come here[Scott and White], so we got here, and they said it wasn't[appendicitis], it was just bowels you know, like he had to go to the bathroom or somethin' and now they're[S&W] sayin' it is appendicitis and he[son] is gonna have surgery in an hour or so"
"Wow, Well I'm glad they are finally getting things taken care of"
"Yea, me to, I feel like we're at least gettin' somewhere now"
She expressed a few more details while we waited. and I gave my coveted lighter. After she lit I asked, "Do you mind if I pray with you for your son?"
"No, tha'd be great!" she responded. I held out my hand and she went to put her cigarette down
"It's OK God knows you smoke" We had a laugh as I began to pray. I could hear her take long steady drags as I prayed for God's mercy, and for his will. I talked of how we know that He knows the pain of mothers for their children because of his Son, yet, how that doesn't make it easier on this side of things. I finished with a blessing and call for God's will above ours as I squeezed her hand and let go. She thanked me sincerely and I felt a desire to have something else I could do for her, in hind site, a desire to stay with her longer. I gave her my phone number and name and assured her if she needed anything I could hook her up. Then I watched as she began her hike back to the building.
It was fun to tell the story to Tim and to my friends that night. I expressed how I really hoped she'd call with something I could do, how I felt an emptiness inside that all I had done was pray and yet I felt like I didn't let an opportunity go by, that God really used me. I felt like God had encouraged me to park in the parking lot!
A few days later I got a call. It turns out the boys appendix had already ruptured by the time they did the surgery, but he was doing just fine. What's more, God was working with her husband at the very same time he was putting us together. You see she didn't have a lighter because her husband had gone back to Gatesville to shower and get back for the surgery and on his way he helped a man that was broken down on the side of the road. I don't know what went on from there, but she said that when they saw each other the dialogue was something like
"I gotta tell you somethin'"
"No, I gotta tell you somethin'"
"It's just like you said" she told me "He takes care of all of us"

I don't think I will park by the building anymore and I think I will always have a light