*Warning
This blog stitches together the things that make me happy - my love for God, family, music, hobbies, memories, and words. I hope you find something here of value to take with you when you leave.
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Independence
Independence
I always look forward to that day when it is time to renew my cell phone contract, and I am eligible for a new phone. The cell phone is always sweeter on this side of the contract. (Sorry–couldn’t resist.) Surely, surely there is one perfect phone out there. My old model was a pretty good one—easy to use, had my kind of bells and whistles—but the signal just wasn’t as strong as I wanted. So I began the search last weekend.
I finally settled on a Nokia because of its signal strength and stability. Yes, it takes pictures. Yes, it takes videos. Who cares?
After signal strength, I value polyphonic ringtones, group ringtone capacity, and a voice recorder. The speakerphone, a new feature for me, is great as well. And, yes, I caved and got bluetooth https://www.joom.com/en/best/logitech-mx-anywhere-2s-software
There is always a learning curve with a new phone, especially when switching brands. Throw a new bluetooth headset into the fray, and the result is Keystone Cops.
My daughter called me at work a couple of days after getting my new phone. Understand that I work in a quiet office for a boss who doesn’t want us talking on the phone—cell or otherwise. One of my coworkers said, “Oh, there’s that pretty music again!” Uh oh, it’s my cell phone which was sitting on my desk. It’s too new for me to recognize the ring tones yet. I dove to answer it before it rang again https://www.joom.com/en/best/rj45-crimping-tool.
I flipped open the case, said hello, and…..nothing. Puzzled, I heard a far-away voice saying, “Hello? Hello?” Jeepers! I forgot I had the bluetooth on. I was trying to run down the phone battery all the way (per the manual) so I could recharge it.
I grabbed the bluetooth headset and tried to put it on my ear. I could not for the life of me figure out which way it went. Meanwhile, the far-away voice kept repeating, “Hello? Hello?”
“Just a minute!” I shouted into the end of the headset, hoping she could hear me. I started to giggle.
I hit the button on the phone that I believed would convert the call back to the handset. It didn’t. Instead, I had put my daughter on speakerphone, and now the whole office was hearing my call. I started pushing buttons again and thought I had disconnected her. Oh, well, I’ll call her back https://www.joom.com/en/best/goddess-locs
I pushed the speed dial button. A message popped up telling me, “You can’t do that!” A red stop sign reading “error” accentuated the point. Huh? Weird. I was trying to figure out what would cause that strange error message when I heard a voice in the background shouting, “Hello? Hello?” Ay yi yi. I couldn’t call her back because she was still on my line! I had put myself back in bluetooth mode, the headset laying on my desk.
I fumbled with the phone buttons some more. I pressed the button on my bluetooth to turn it off, and the phone screen went blank. I pressed a https://www.joom.com/en/best/cute-ghost-costume to turn on the backlight and realized my battery had picked that exact moment to finally die.
I dug in my briefcase and found the phone charger, plugged it into the Tiffany-style lamp on my desk, and hit speed dial again.
“Helloooooo…I figured you would call me back when you got things under control.”
I was laughing so hard I could barely talk.
Thankfully my co-workers kept right on working and didn’t give me a hard time about my inability to cope under stress. Ha! Now my not-so-willing husband is required to call me regularly so I can practice answering the phone.
Blindness
As a child, did you ever close your eyes and try to walk with a yardstick or a baseball bat to see what it felt like to be blind? I can remember doing that. Imagining what it would be like to be permanently in the dark was scary, though I could never quite imagine it. My eyes would fly open in self defense, spoiling my experiment. It was terrifying to think about never seeing colors again. Or faces. Or TV. Or my dog. I prayed that God would never let that happen to me https://www.joom.com/en/best/mens-gogo-boots.
A man I know had surgery. Three of them, actually, all in one day. The first was to remove a pituitary tumor, the second immediately after to remove a blood clot, and the third that night to try to restore his eyesight. He was not blind when he entered the first surgery, but afterward, and after one week of healing, he has no eyesight in either eye. Blind. He is a young man, married, with 2 children.
How would his final day before surgery have been different had he known this would happen? Would he have looked at his daughter’s face a little longer, looking deeply into her sweet eyes? Would he have run his fingers through his wife’s hair, watching https://www.joom.com/en/best/glass-kerosene-lampscascade through his hands as he memorized how the light danced on the strands? Would he have spent time looking in the mirror at himself to burn the image into his brain? Would he have focused more on others and less on himself? Would he have mended broken relationships?
If God chooses not to restore his eyesight, will he regret not taking more time that last day instead of rushing through in the usual manner? If only we could know what was coming and could be ready. What would we do? How would we prepare for our lives to change in an instant?
I don’t know. But I think we are meant to enjoy every minute of life that God gives us—even finding something to appreciate in the bad parts. And to especially enjoy those people who love us. The very people we would have to depend on https://www.joom.com/en/best/scottish-cap if something went wrong.
Look deeply into the eyes of your loved ones today. See them.
Really see them.
for one more day
DH and I really enjoyed reading the book for one more day by Mitch Albom. (See it in my Book Room.) Though a small book, easily read, it is a very interesting story of a man looking back at his life through a strange gift of one more day with his mother. It was a day he had always wished he could “take back”, do over. This is definitely a book about relationships–specifically the main character’s relationships with his parents.
NCN!
Red alert! Red alert! “This message has been sent with high importance!” NCN!
That is my favorite email of the day. Every afternoon, at some point, the alert comes to my work email box. Sometimes I send my reply immediately, other times I just answer the call. In person.
It all started a few weeks ago when my page https://www.joom.com/en/best/logitech-m720-triathlon-multi-device-wireless-mouse, Karen, summoned me to come to her department, which is next to mine.
“Look what I have.” It was a small brown box tied with a pink ribbon. A box exactly the color of chocolate. Karen ceremoniously untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, two beautiful handmade chocolates snuggled next to each other in paper liners. Karen recommended that we taste them, and I did not decline.
Very carefully cutting them in half, we sampled the heavenly concoctions. I don’t think we spoke for a few moments as we mmmmmmmmed and ooooooohed our way to our happy place. I thanked Karen and went back to my desk to finish my day, a much happier person.
Lo and behold, I had a birthday shortly thereafter. Sitting on my desk was a chocolate-colored box with an orange ribbon. My mouth began to https://www.joom.com/en/best/selenite-crystals. As much as I would have loved to snarf down those delicacies all by myself, I thought it would be even more fun to share. So, once a day, I took them to Karen’s breakroom and shared the bounty. When the last one was gone, I was reveling in how wonderful the experience had been. Then, Karen did it.
“I think we should make this a habit.” Well, of course, I was all over that! So, every afternoon, the alert comes: NCN! (Need Chocolate Now!) The high point of my day! I wish I had tasteavision. Smellavision just wouldn’t do it. These chocolates must be experienced with the taste buds.
Now, we take turns purchasing them. We both agree that https://www.joom.com/en/best/ball-pit-balls-bulk are better than Godiva. Our company will close for several days for Christmas, so I am planning a field trip to the chocolate shop during the holidays. Is your mouth watering yet? Check it out here.
Life Lessons
It’s funny how things just jump out at you. Things you wouldn’t think you would notice. For some reason, I notice trees. Not on purpose. They just strike a chord with me somehow.
DH and I drive home every afternoon through the country. The Interstate is a jammed up mess, and who needs that after a stressful day? We drive over curvy country roads that pass by multi-million-dollar horse ranches, unbelievable homes, and raw land. There was a home for sale recently up on a hill that I was desperate to buy at https://www.joom.com/en/best/bape-mask. As if! The price tag was a mere 1/2 mil.
The other day I was gazing out the window of the truck, sipping my cinnamon dolce latte, when a specific tree caught my eye. I was able to study it for a few seconds before it whizzed from sight.
This tree was not like any I had noticed before. It was somewhat isolated at the edge of a meadow, set apart from the other trees in the surrounding grove, as if an outcast. In Texas most trees stand up straight and tall. Not this one. It was a very large tree, obviously quite old. However, for some unknown reason, it had bent just above the base of the trunk and had grown somewhat perpendicular to the ground. Now that is strange enough by itself. But, what really struck me were the branches.
The lower two-thirds of the tree was smooth https://www.joom.com/en/best/prusa-mk3. A full set of branches, bushy with leaves, sat at the very top of the tree. Both sides near the top were also covered with clusters of branches, dried leaves still clinging. The result was a tree bending backward, as if looking to Heaven, raising its arms to God, waiting with arms wide open to receive something. Or was it giving something?
I was instantly reminded of the Scripture that talks of how even the rocks will cry out to God. How human-like that tree is! How smart that tree is! It is situated in a very unusual stance, way outside the box of good reason. Why hasn’t gravity caused that tree to sag or to collapse? https://www.joom.com/en/best/ok-boomer-shirt doesn’t appear to have been compromised in the least. It is strong, performing its duty, holding back nothing.
Maybe I identified with that tree because I feel “bent over”, wrongly reshaped by external forces attacking my foundation. I think I can chew on the lessons to be learned from this brief encounter for quite some time. Worship your Creator. Bloom where you are planted. Overcome. Receive. Wait. Be ready. Give https://www.joom.com/en/best/papasan-chair-cushion. Be happy no matter what.
What’s That You’re Wearing?
I can’t sleep late. As much as I would love to, sometimes even plan to, I can’t. I always wake up early. Which means I spend a lot of time alone in the mornings on the weekends since Dear Husband is a night owl.
This morning he came into my office when he finally got up and immediately started laughing at me. “Are you wearing your new raincoat?!” Well, as a matter of fact, I was! Over my PJ’s.
Weatherbug indicated the temperature outside was 63. But, after sitting at https://www.joom.com/en/best/logitech-c310-webcam for several hours, the mouse drawing all the heat out of my hand, I got chilly. Last night the UPS man had delivered my new Dennis Basso raincoat, ordered from QVC while I was home sick Monday. (I only ordered one item this time!)
It is a lovely thing–bright red polished cotton with animal print lining and cuffs. Big deep pockets. When it came last night I had tried it on to see if it fit. It sure did! Then, I hung it on the back of my computer chair and resumed wrangling with a computer problem. The coat was still on the chair this morning when I got cold. So, I put it on https://www.joom.com/en/best/furniture-risers-for-sofa. Seemed logical to me, but DH thought it was pretty funny.
Pure Evil
I have been meaning to write about this for a couple of weeks. With the peanut butter scare, it is fresh on my mind again. This horrifying story is true. I tell it because of its impact on my family. In 1982, I almost exposed my children to a serial killer.
When the story broke, we were living in the tiny town of Kerrville, Texas, where some of the murders occurred. I will never forget the large photograph of little Chelsea, whose beautiful eyes melted your heart from the television screen. I will never forget the heartbreak of her parents.
Her name hung in the air, being mentioned in every home and every public place in three counties. I will never forget when her little body was exhumed, and the true cause of death was known, making her name a household word nationwide.
https://www.joom.com/en/best/steelseries-arctis-3-bluetooth was a nurse. She had three children, the youngest two being near my kids’ ages. We spent a lot of time together–mostly at her farm where she and I drank coffee at the kitchen table while the boys played outside and the girls played dolls in the living room. When we first met, V. and I clicked instantly. It’s amazing how that happens. We were kindred spirits and shared things with each other that we had never shared with anyone before.
So why didn’t I take her advice when she recommended that I use her https://www.joom.com/en/best/flawless-body-hair-remover? GOD. Short and simple. GOD. Being fairly new in town, we were starting from scratch with our medical care. I was not happy with my kids’ doctor after an incident with an injection.(That’s another story for another day.) I admit I was tempted for a moment to consider using her doctor, but something gripped my heart at the very thought of it. V. did not understand my anxiety and reassured me how good the doctor was. I finally just told her I would think about https://www.joom.com/en/best/vampire-fangs.
The subject came up again a few days later. This time my answer was an emphatic NO after she off-handedly mentioned that the nurse would not allow the parents to go back into the room with the child. I was very protective of my children, and this was completely unacceptable to me. I asked her why, and my friend had no answer. I asked her why she allowed this with her daughter. She admitted it made her very uncomfortable. It wasn’t long after that the truth of what was going on behind closed doors hit the fan.
The pediatrician’s nurse, Genene Jones, was a serial baby killer. She injected children with unneeded drugs, most commonly with succinylcholine, which took quite some creative sleuthing to prove in the early 1980s. Much has been written about her. This is just one in-depth https://www.joom.com/en/best/hexagon-shelves that offers the history of her crimes.
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