Retail can be a demanding job, especially before a big sale; in this case, the biggest sale of the year: Black Friday. Trying to organize the merchandise onto the proper racks, ensure the signage is correct, keep up with the dressing room clean-up, and waiting on customers can be a never ending race. And it can be a thankless job. No one appreciates that nicely folded table as they riffle through looking for their size...
Recently I experienced something I have rarely seen in the retail business: thankfulness.
I was running around like a crazy woman, trying to put in their proper place all the clothes that ladies had tried on and decided not to buy. My arms were full, and I was racking my brain trying to remember where I had moved the blue lacey blouse when I heard a voice behind me. "I am so sorry to bother you" she nicely said, "but can you help me find a medium in this skirt. I know you are really busy, and I hate to interrupt, but I can't find it myself."
I work in retail. It is my job to help people find things. I am expected to drop all that I am doing to hunt down assorted objects. It what I get paid to do. Most people don't ask for help; they demand it. And again, that is what I am paid to do.
Words cannot describe how much that one simple statement meant to me. I probably shouldn't tell you how fast I threw down the load in my arms, as my boss (whom I love!!) might see this one day. My entire focus changed. No longer did I see the massive, MASSIVE to do list that I only had two hours to complete. I saw this one woman who had asked for my help; most people don't ask, they demand.
I am happy to say we found the skirt in question. Again she thanked me for taking the time to look and for the trouble it had supposedly caused me. When I got off work two hours later I was still smiling. She had said "thank-you"; she had noticed my armload and appreciated me.
As you rush through your holiday shopping this year, please take the time to notice the folded tables and the organized clothes racks. It takes a lot of work to get them to look like that. And please thank your salesperson. You never know how much that single expression can mean to the person on the other side of the check-out.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Pumpkins are Gross!
Fall is here, and Halloween is just a few days away. One of the things that always comes to mind about this time of year, aside from the autumn colored M&Ms and candy corn, is pumpkins. And not just those oddly shapen, roundish, orangish gourds...the ones with smiley faces or weird, spooky images carved into them.
Apparently, I have been deprived as a child, as I have never carved a pumpkin in all my life. It might have to do more with the fact that my mom is a smart woman who knows it isn't a good idea to let me play with sharp objects, than an intentional withholding of a rite of passage. We did get pumpkins, but we drew smiley faces on them with Sharpie markers instead of cutting into them. A few years ago I bought an orange, crystal looking, plastic plug-in pumpkin at an after Halloween sale that has a multicolored light inside of it. I used to plug it in and sit in near my window and watch as the color of the smiling face slowly faded from pink to blue to purple. Around Thanksgiving I would box it up and pull out my Christmas decorations (I have a plug-in tree with sparkling white lights on it). Lately though, seasonal decorating has not been big on my to-do list...please don't tell HGTV!
A few days ago, a pumpkin appeared on my front porch with the request that I carve it for a party my church was planning for Sunday. Had anyone bothered to ask me, I would have kindly volunteered for another project. I was behind in school, swamped with work (all three jobs!), and generally exhausted; and again, I had never carved a pumpkin before. So there it sat, mocking my ignorance and inexperience until Friday afternoon. I had come to the decision that, if little children can do this and produce cute little pumpkin faces, then it couldn't be that hard. Boy, was I wrong.
I do have to brag by saying that I approached my task with the proper amount of planning. I had mapped out my face (with a Sharpie), and had purchased what I considered to be the appropriate tools to do the job. I was now ready to start cutting. Lesson #1: Pumpkins are hard! It took quite a few minutes to get the knife through the top of the pumpkin. I had not expected this kind of resistance, apparently no one had thought to inform the pumpkin that resistance was futile. Once I got the knife all the way through, I had to wrestle with the blade to get it to go in a roundabout circle. I had already worked up a sweat by the time I finally managed to pry the top off. Which is when I learned Lesson #2: Pumpkins DO NOT smell like pumpkin bread or pumpkin pie or even spiced pumpkin frappuccinos. Oh no, not in the least. Pumpkins smell like vomit! Now I was really not having any fun. Once I got the top off, I proceeded to scoop out the insides. Lesson #3: pumpkin insides look and feel like vomit! As I kept putting my hand through the top whole and scooping out seeds and various other vileness, I had to fight back the urge to add the the overall vomitty affect. The insides of a pumpkin, aside from smelling and looking like vomit, are also very sticky and messy. That was Lesson #4. After just a few scoops, I had stringy, chunky pumpkin barf all over my jeans, running down my arm, and somehow, a little bit got in my hair. Where was the fun part in all this again????
If it wasn't for the fact that others were depending on this pumpkin for their decorations, I would have called it right then and there. Sweaty, nauseous, and looking like I had already been revisited by my lunch, I persevered. Lesson # 5: It takes a long, LONG time to completely (or close enough) scoop out the insides of a pumpkin. Finally, when my arm could scoop no more, I got the last little bit out. I do have to admit that carving out the eyes, nose, and mouth were much easier without all the vomit inside.
At last I stood up and wiped away as much of the puke that had attached itself to my jeans as I could, and gazed upon my creation. Not so bad for a first timer, I will admit. He looked like a happy little pumpkin, and that was my intention. After almost 2 hours of fighting with both the pumpkin and my gag reflex, I had claimed victory. I carefully loaded my prize creation into my car and hand-delivered it to the church's fellowship hall.
I still do not understand the allure of carving a pumpkin... I think I'll have to dig out my electric one next year. Mainly because he doesn't smell like vomit.
Apparently, I have been deprived as a child, as I have never carved a pumpkin in all my life. It might have to do more with the fact that my mom is a smart woman who knows it isn't a good idea to let me play with sharp objects, than an intentional withholding of a rite of passage. We did get pumpkins, but we drew smiley faces on them with Sharpie markers instead of cutting into them. A few years ago I bought an orange, crystal looking, plastic plug-in pumpkin at an after Halloween sale that has a multicolored light inside of it. I used to plug it in and sit in near my window and watch as the color of the smiling face slowly faded from pink to blue to purple. Around Thanksgiving I would box it up and pull out my Christmas decorations (I have a plug-in tree with sparkling white lights on it). Lately though, seasonal decorating has not been big on my to-do list...please don't tell HGTV!
A few days ago, a pumpkin appeared on my front porch with the request that I carve it for a party my church was planning for Sunday. Had anyone bothered to ask me, I would have kindly volunteered for another project. I was behind in school, swamped with work (all three jobs!), and generally exhausted; and again, I had never carved a pumpkin before. So there it sat, mocking my ignorance and inexperience until Friday afternoon. I had come to the decision that, if little children can do this and produce cute little pumpkin faces, then it couldn't be that hard. Boy, was I wrong.
I do have to brag by saying that I approached my task with the proper amount of planning. I had mapped out my face (with a Sharpie), and had purchased what I considered to be the appropriate tools to do the job. I was now ready to start cutting. Lesson #1: Pumpkins are hard! It took quite a few minutes to get the knife through the top of the pumpkin. I had not expected this kind of resistance, apparently no one had thought to inform the pumpkin that resistance was futile. Once I got the knife all the way through, I had to wrestle with the blade to get it to go in a roundabout circle. I had already worked up a sweat by the time I finally managed to pry the top off. Which is when I learned Lesson #2: Pumpkins DO NOT smell like pumpkin bread or pumpkin pie or even spiced pumpkin frappuccinos. Oh no, not in the least. Pumpkins smell like vomit! Now I was really not having any fun. Once I got the top off, I proceeded to scoop out the insides. Lesson #3: pumpkin insides look and feel like vomit! As I kept putting my hand through the top whole and scooping out seeds and various other vileness, I had to fight back the urge to add the the overall vomitty affect. The insides of a pumpkin, aside from smelling and looking like vomit, are also very sticky and messy. That was Lesson #4. After just a few scoops, I had stringy, chunky pumpkin barf all over my jeans, running down my arm, and somehow, a little bit got in my hair. Where was the fun part in all this again????
If it wasn't for the fact that others were depending on this pumpkin for their decorations, I would have called it right then and there. Sweaty, nauseous, and looking like I had already been revisited by my lunch, I persevered. Lesson # 5: It takes a long, LONG time to completely (or close enough) scoop out the insides of a pumpkin. Finally, when my arm could scoop no more, I got the last little bit out. I do have to admit that carving out the eyes, nose, and mouth were much easier without all the vomit inside.
At last I stood up and wiped away as much of the puke that had attached itself to my jeans as I could, and gazed upon my creation. Not so bad for a first timer, I will admit. He looked like a happy little pumpkin, and that was my intention. After almost 2 hours of fighting with both the pumpkin and my gag reflex, I had claimed victory. I carefully loaded my prize creation into my car and hand-delivered it to the church's fellowship hall.
I still do not understand the allure of carving a pumpkin... I think I'll have to dig out my electric one next year. Mainly because he doesn't smell like vomit.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Stress Relievers
I am on the verge of a meltdown. I'm not talking about a little hissy fit, pitty party, or diva tantrum; a full-blown, nothing-is-working-at-all-and-i-might-need-medication meltdown complete with the mild to moderate panic attack. Yep, this is how I spend my Saturday nights...
I guess I should tell you a little bit about how I got here. I have found myself working three jobs, four if you count being a full-time college student. Now all three of these jobs were supposed to be part-time. Take a wild guess at the key word in that phrase. My bank account doesn't mind that my boss loves me and has maxed-out my time at job #1. I am so close to the required hours in my bookkeeping certification that I have started to shop for a frame to display my hard-won certificate, so I see it as a good thing that job #2 has been needing a lot of my time lately. As I sit here typing this blog post, a large mixed breed hound is laying on my feet chewing a bone. I am spending the weekend with her and her brother, which is a piece of job #3. By themselves, these are little things; but put them together, along with a whole lot of homework and a Sunday School lesson to write up, and that is where the problem comes in.
I have decided, in this time of crisis, to seek solace in my old friends. I am off for the night, the Sunday School lesson is done, and the homework can wait: I am spending the evening enjoying Starbucks, Flaming Hot Cheetos, peanut butter M&Ms, and a Pepsi.
Tonight, both job #1 and job #3 are practically across the street from a Starbucks, so the first thing I did when I got off #1 was visit the drive thru for a Java Chip Frappuccino. Just the smell of the brewing coffee was enough to cheer me up. That icy jolt of caffeine brought a smile to my tired face and chased away the headache that was starting to come on.
After walking the hounds of the Baskervilles, (with the leashes in one hand and the Frappuccino in the other) it was time to sit down to a nice, quiet, relaxing meal of Flaming Hot Cheetos. This particular bag produced some very dark red chips, which any connoisseur of FHCs would recognize as the best kind. The M&Ms are a fresh bag, and they are delicious. I always try to buy the holiday themed ones cause they usually haven't sat on the supermarket shelf for a couple of months. I was able to get them on sale, which somehow makes them taste even better. And yes, they are melting in my mouth, but not in my hands. The Pepsi, ice-cold and just opened, washes this amazing meal down perfectly. If only you could hear my contented sigh.
I am still behind on homework, and afraid of what I will discover at job#2 on monday; but right now I just don't care. All these things are my comfort foods, and they are doing their job wonderfully. The down side is that I will probably never be able to get back into my old jeans, but this is worth it.
I guess I should tell you a little bit about how I got here. I have found myself working three jobs, four if you count being a full-time college student. Now all three of these jobs were supposed to be part-time. Take a wild guess at the key word in that phrase. My bank account doesn't mind that my boss loves me and has maxed-out my time at job #1. I am so close to the required hours in my bookkeeping certification that I have started to shop for a frame to display my hard-won certificate, so I see it as a good thing that job #2 has been needing a lot of my time lately. As I sit here typing this blog post, a large mixed breed hound is laying on my feet chewing a bone. I am spending the weekend with her and her brother, which is a piece of job #3. By themselves, these are little things; but put them together, along with a whole lot of homework and a Sunday School lesson to write up, and that is where the problem comes in.
I have decided, in this time of crisis, to seek solace in my old friends. I am off for the night, the Sunday School lesson is done, and the homework can wait: I am spending the evening enjoying Starbucks, Flaming Hot Cheetos, peanut butter M&Ms, and a Pepsi.
Tonight, both job #1 and job #3 are practically across the street from a Starbucks, so the first thing I did when I got off #1 was visit the drive thru for a Java Chip Frappuccino. Just the smell of the brewing coffee was enough to cheer me up. That icy jolt of caffeine brought a smile to my tired face and chased away the headache that was starting to come on.
After walking the hounds of the Baskervilles, (with the leashes in one hand and the Frappuccino in the other) it was time to sit down to a nice, quiet, relaxing meal of Flaming Hot Cheetos. This particular bag produced some very dark red chips, which any connoisseur of FHCs would recognize as the best kind. The M&Ms are a fresh bag, and they are delicious. I always try to buy the holiday themed ones cause they usually haven't sat on the supermarket shelf for a couple of months. I was able to get them on sale, which somehow makes them taste even better. And yes, they are melting in my mouth, but not in my hands. The Pepsi, ice-cold and just opened, washes this amazing meal down perfectly. If only you could hear my contented sigh.
I am still behind on homework, and afraid of what I will discover at job#2 on monday; but right now I just don't care. All these things are my comfort foods, and they are doing their job wonderfully. The down side is that I will probably never be able to get back into my old jeans, but this is worth it.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
The B word!!!!!
I have skirted the issue long enough; I can no longer escape it. It is time for a BUDGET. Yep, the dreadded B-word (what did you think this post was about, you dirty-minded reader).
After the spring semester ended, I found a part-time job at a local department store, which is also why I haven't posted in a month. The fact that I had worked there before helped me get re-hired quite quickly. So now I am getting semi-steady paychecks, depending on how many hours I work a week.
I would like to be able to re-build my savings account, so I sat down and wrote out all my financial needs for a whole month. Then I mapped out a tenative budget, in which everything is getting paid and I have some money left over to put away. It was a great plan! Dave Ramsey would be so proud! Pay half my bills one pay peroid, pay the other half the next pay period. No stress, no worries, and no late fees; plus, a small weekly allowance for Chic-Fil-A and Starbucks. Seriously, these two things are a NEED, not a WANT.
Apparently, all my favorite addictions knew about my plan. Why else would Breyers mint chocolate chip ice cream suddenly go-buy-one-get-one-free? Chips Ahoy pulled the same stunt the following week... And lets not forget finding my precious 119B on sale at Target with a buy three for $5.99 each and get a five dollar gift card (seriously, its like buy-two-get-one-free!). It is a conspiracy I tell you!
Oh well...Thursday is a new month. A new chance to start over in my budget. I plan to stay far away from the frozen food section in the grocery store, and to ignore to big displays of yummy, fudge-filled chewy coockies.
After the spring semester ended, I found a part-time job at a local department store, which is also why I haven't posted in a month. The fact that I had worked there before helped me get re-hired quite quickly. So now I am getting semi-steady paychecks, depending on how many hours I work a week.
I would like to be able to re-build my savings account, so I sat down and wrote out all my financial needs for a whole month. Then I mapped out a tenative budget, in which everything is getting paid and I have some money left over to put away. It was a great plan! Dave Ramsey would be so proud! Pay half my bills one pay peroid, pay the other half the next pay period. No stress, no worries, and no late fees; plus, a small weekly allowance for Chic-Fil-A and Starbucks. Seriously, these two things are a NEED, not a WANT.
Apparently, all my favorite addictions knew about my plan. Why else would Breyers mint chocolate chip ice cream suddenly go-buy-one-get-one-free? Chips Ahoy pulled the same stunt the following week... And lets not forget finding my precious 119B on sale at Target with a buy three for $5.99 each and get a five dollar gift card (seriously, its like buy-two-get-one-free!). It is a conspiracy I tell you!
Oh well...Thursday is a new month. A new chance to start over in my budget. I plan to stay far away from the frozen food section in the grocery store, and to ignore to big displays of yummy, fudge-filled chewy coockies.
Monday, July 11, 2011
New Computer
I have had the same computer for over four years. I know, I know, it's almost unheard of. A four year old computer still being used on a regular basis. But in my defence, I don't do much on it aside from class work and the occasional surf session, and writing a blog post on rare occasions.
I am now on my last year of college, and this time around I have gotten a lovely Pell grant. I decided that it would be a good idea to invest some of those funds in a new laptop. Now, I am not a computer person. I go to look at computers from the view of how the keys feel, how the screen looks, and am I going to enjoy working on it. Mandy is my desgnated geek; I take her along to look at all the letters and numbers that make no sense to me.
I found an Acer laptop that has a number pad on the laptop. I know that is not a big deal for most, but being as I didn't have one before and I am an accounting major I found it fascinating! The keys also feel amazing under my fingers. And talk about lightweight!! Mandy came up to the store and read the specs (letters and numbers) and gave her approval on the purchase. The best part was that this particular laptop was on clearence (clearence is my favorite section of any store).
So I made up my mind to buy it. I went up to the store, found a nerd, and asked to buy the laptop. To my astonishment, the nerd responded that they had been advised not to sell this particular model. "Becasue it is so slow and outdated" was the reason behind the refusal. Now, as I have already informed you, I do not game, skype, or much else. I am a very boring person. The speed of this model was more that what I need, and way more than what I am used to working with. I tried to explain this to the nerd. It took a while, but I finally convinced him to allow me to spend my hard earned money on the computer I wanted. I have never before had to work so hard to spend money...
Now it is mine, and I am loving the speed of it! It is much easier to type on too. And the best part is, I found a fifty dollar cupon for clearence computers to use with my purchase, so my laptop was cheaper than I planned. Which means I can buy a fancy external hard drive!!!!
I am now on my last year of college, and this time around I have gotten a lovely Pell grant. I decided that it would be a good idea to invest some of those funds in a new laptop. Now, I am not a computer person. I go to look at computers from the view of how the keys feel, how the screen looks, and am I going to enjoy working on it. Mandy is my desgnated geek; I take her along to look at all the letters and numbers that make no sense to me.
I found an Acer laptop that has a number pad on the laptop. I know that is not a big deal for most, but being as I didn't have one before and I am an accounting major I found it fascinating! The keys also feel amazing under my fingers. And talk about lightweight!! Mandy came up to the store and read the specs (letters and numbers) and gave her approval on the purchase. The best part was that this particular laptop was on clearence (clearence is my favorite section of any store).
So I made up my mind to buy it. I went up to the store, found a nerd, and asked to buy the laptop. To my astonishment, the nerd responded that they had been advised not to sell this particular model. "Becasue it is so slow and outdated" was the reason behind the refusal. Now, as I have already informed you, I do not game, skype, or much else. I am a very boring person. The speed of this model was more that what I need, and way more than what I am used to working with. I tried to explain this to the nerd. It took a while, but I finally convinced him to allow me to spend my hard earned money on the computer I wanted. I have never before had to work so hard to spend money...
Now it is mine, and I am loving the speed of it! It is much easier to type on too. And the best part is, I found a fifty dollar cupon for clearence computers to use with my purchase, so my laptop was cheaper than I planned. Which means I can buy a fancy external hard drive!!!!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Oh 119B, Wherefore art Thou?
I must do this every other month; there is no getting past it. My roots start to peek out at the world, and they are most definitely not the same color as the rest of my hair.
You see (literally) my hair is naturally gray, with a lot of white in it. I have been cleverly hiding that fact for over fifteen years. God showed man how to create Clairol hair color, specifically the kind that covers stubborn grays, just for my benefit. Yet another way He proves His love for me.
I like using the Clairol box. It is fairly easy to do, and it is very cost efficient. Most people I know who have their hair dyed on a normal basis spend around $60 per application to have it done by a stylist. Me being a poor, part-time employed full-time college student, I have to be a little more conservative with my meager funds. (Do you have any idea how much Starbucks and Chick-Fil-A I could get with $60?) Clairol costs around $7 a box, and sometimes it is on sale for $5.
I have discovered, through some trial and error (my high school purple hair phase excluded) that the ideal color for me is a natural reddish brown, more commonly known as shade 119B. The downside is that 119B seems to be pretty hard to find.
I usually have an extra box stored in my closet, but this past time for a coloring I found myself without my trusty box. Making a late night WalMart run, I was sadly disappointed to find the shelf space for 119B empty. So I decided to put off the job for a few more days. My roots were just beginning to grow out. But a few days later there was still no sign of my box. I was now desperate! I had no choice but to, gasp!, try another brand/color.
My stubborn grays laughed at my attempt to subdue them. They disapproved of the new brand, loyally declaring that they would be wooed by none other than 119B. They rest of my hair seemed to agree with them. Instead of beautiful natural reddish brown, I ended up with a fiery red that, with the right shirt, looked more pink than red. Not a hint of brown. I should have known...
Oh 119B, where are you hiding? I need you greatly! Please return to me, and I promise never to try and replace you with another! Only you can truly please me!
You see (literally) my hair is naturally gray, with a lot of white in it. I have been cleverly hiding that fact for over fifteen years. God showed man how to create Clairol hair color, specifically the kind that covers stubborn grays, just for my benefit. Yet another way He proves His love for me.
I like using the Clairol box. It is fairly easy to do, and it is very cost efficient. Most people I know who have their hair dyed on a normal basis spend around $60 per application to have it done by a stylist. Me being a poor, part-time employed full-time college student, I have to be a little more conservative with my meager funds. (Do you have any idea how much Starbucks and Chick-Fil-A I could get with $60?) Clairol costs around $7 a box, and sometimes it is on sale for $5.
I have discovered, through some trial and error (my high school purple hair phase excluded) that the ideal color for me is a natural reddish brown, more commonly known as shade 119B. The downside is that 119B seems to be pretty hard to find.
I usually have an extra box stored in my closet, but this past time for a coloring I found myself without my trusty box. Making a late night WalMart run, I was sadly disappointed to find the shelf space for 119B empty. So I decided to put off the job for a few more days. My roots were just beginning to grow out. But a few days later there was still no sign of my box. I was now desperate! I had no choice but to, gasp!, try another brand/color.
My stubborn grays laughed at my attempt to subdue them. They disapproved of the new brand, loyally declaring that they would be wooed by none other than 119B. They rest of my hair seemed to agree with them. Instead of beautiful natural reddish brown, I ended up with a fiery red that, with the right shirt, looked more pink than red. Not a hint of brown. I should have known...
Oh 119B, where are you hiding? I need you greatly! Please return to me, and I promise never to try and replace you with another! Only you can truly please me!
Friday, May 20, 2011
Life's not fair; neither is God (that's a good thing)!
Have you ever heard the expression "life's not fair"? Have you ever said it yourself? That promotion that you wanted and worked so hard for is given to an undeserving co-worker. I have uttered it while watching Bridezillas one afternoon: these beastly, BEASTLY women have somehow convinced a man to marry them; and here I am, single. Life is just not fair! Sad but true, people do not usually get what they deserve.
That is the bad news. Are you ready for some good news? OK, here it is: God is not fair, either.
There is a parable Jesus tells His disciples about a certain landowner who needed help harvesting his field (Matthew 20:1-16). The man goes out at 6am and finds some unemployed folks standing around, and promises them a full days wage for a full days work. They agree and head off to his field, or vineyard, depending on your translation. But they aren't enough. He goes out again at 9am, 12 noon, and 3pm for more folk, promising them that if they go work in his field he will give them whatever is fair. And still he needs more men. He goes out one last time, around 5pm, and tells some guys standing around to go and work for him. No promises of payment he gives these men, just directions to his field.
At 6pm the day is over, and it is now time to pay everybody. The landowner gives instructions that the last guys, the 5pmers, should be paid first. Imagine their surprise when he pays them a full days wage! Did they earn it? Did they deserve it? Absolutely not!!!! Look closely at verses 13-16: What was the landowner's reason for giving the 5pmers more than they had worked for, more than what they deserved? He was generous! He wanted to give them what they didn't deserve!
What do we deserve, according to Romans 6:23? "The wages of sin is death, BUT the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." We deserve death; but God is generous and gives us what we do not deserve: life! And not just regular life, eternal life! Do we deserve it? Have we done anything to earn it? Can we ever do anything to earn it? No, no, and no. If a gift could be earned, it wouldn't be a gift, would it?
Praise God today that He is not fair, that He is generous and gives us undeserved eternal life!
That is the bad news. Are you ready for some good news? OK, here it is: God is not fair, either.
There is a parable Jesus tells His disciples about a certain landowner who needed help harvesting his field (Matthew 20:1-16). The man goes out at 6am and finds some unemployed folks standing around, and promises them a full days wage for a full days work. They agree and head off to his field, or vineyard, depending on your translation. But they aren't enough. He goes out again at 9am, 12 noon, and 3pm for more folk, promising them that if they go work in his field he will give them whatever is fair. And still he needs more men. He goes out one last time, around 5pm, and tells some guys standing around to go and work for him. No promises of payment he gives these men, just directions to his field.
At 6pm the day is over, and it is now time to pay everybody. The landowner gives instructions that the last guys, the 5pmers, should be paid first. Imagine their surprise when he pays them a full days wage! Did they earn it? Did they deserve it? Absolutely not!!!! Look closely at verses 13-16: What was the landowner's reason for giving the 5pmers more than they had worked for, more than what they deserved? He was generous! He wanted to give them what they didn't deserve!
What do we deserve, according to Romans 6:23? "The wages of sin is death, BUT the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." We deserve death; but God is generous and gives us what we do not deserve: life! And not just regular life, eternal life! Do we deserve it? Have we done anything to earn it? Can we ever do anything to earn it? No, no, and no. If a gift could be earned, it wouldn't be a gift, would it?
Praise God today that He is not fair, that He is generous and gives us undeserved eternal life!
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Zombies of the Bible
No, there is nothing wrong with your eyes; it really does say ZOMBIES. Now before you get all upset and start to call me some not nice names, finish reading the rest of the post, please. I think you will enjoy it as much as my Sunday School class did.
I am not a fan of the horror genre-I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is, I do not need anything else keeping me up at night. I do know just a little bit about zombies, thanks to the first half of Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies. Zombies are defined and depicted as the dead walking, the undead, the living dead (anyone else notice all the definitions include the word dead?). We see them stumbling around in search of a nice meal consisting of human flesh or brains. Do we see them having any thoughts and feelings? Nope, just hungry...
Now, what does all this have to do with the Bible? I am so glad you stayed with me this far and want to know. Look up Ephesians 2:1-5 and Colossians 2:13. What do these verses say about us before we came to know Christ? We were dead. "And when you were dead in trespasses and sins"(boldness added by me). Is he, Paul, talking about a spiritual death or a physical one? Seeing as how you are reading this, he's speaking of a spiritual death. I mean, you are alive, right: your brain is waving and your respiration system is working all by itself? According to Ephesians 2:1-5 and Galatians 5:19-21, what does a Biblical zombie look like? Both speak of living out the lusts of our flesh and desires of the flesh and mind (just to name a few: immorality, impurity, idolatry, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, dissensions, envying). Just as a fictional, physical zombie is controlled by the fleshly desire to nom brains, the Biblical, spiritual zombie is controlled by the fleshly desires and lust of it's body and mind. Let's look at them together.
Fictional Zombies
-physically Dead
-controlled by hunger (brains)
-unable to resist hunger
-No cure, No hope
Biblical Zombies
-spirtually Dead
-controlled by lusts of flesh and desires of the mind
-unable to resist lusts/desires
-Cure: Jesus
What does Jesus Himself say is our cure in John 5:24-25? "...anyone who hears My word and believes Him who sent Me has eternal life and will not come under judgment but has passed from death to LIFE."(again, the bolding and caps are added by me).
I used to be a zombie, stumbling around aimlessly trying to satisfy my unending hunger. If you weren't looking closely, you wouldn't have known. I mean, I'm wasn't walking around with my arms pulled in like a praying mantis, bent slightly to one side with clouded-over eyes in a decomposing body and moaning (I am not counting in the morning before I have had my second cup of coffee). I looked normal on the outside, but the inside was dead. But God loved me so much that He had mercy on me and made a way for me to be cured. I am a zombie no longer; I am alive!
I am not a fan of the horror genre-I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is, I do not need anything else keeping me up at night. I do know just a little bit about zombies, thanks to the first half of Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies. Zombies are defined and depicted as the dead walking, the undead, the living dead (anyone else notice all the definitions include the word dead?). We see them stumbling around in search of a nice meal consisting of human flesh or brains. Do we see them having any thoughts and feelings? Nope, just hungry...
Now, what does all this have to do with the Bible? I am so glad you stayed with me this far and want to know. Look up Ephesians 2:1-5 and Colossians 2:13. What do these verses say about us before we came to know Christ? We were dead. "And when you were dead in trespasses and sins"(boldness added by me). Is he, Paul, talking about a spiritual death or a physical one? Seeing as how you are reading this, he's speaking of a spiritual death. I mean, you are alive, right: your brain is waving and your respiration system is working all by itself? According to Ephesians 2:1-5 and Galatians 5:19-21, what does a Biblical zombie look like? Both speak of living out the lusts of our flesh and desires of the flesh and mind (just to name a few: immorality, impurity, idolatry, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, dissensions, envying). Just as a fictional, physical zombie is controlled by the fleshly desire to nom brains, the Biblical, spiritual zombie is controlled by the fleshly desires and lust of it's body and mind. Let's look at them together.
Fictional Zombies
-physically Dead
-controlled by hunger (brains)
-unable to resist hunger
-No cure, No hope
Biblical Zombies
-spirtually Dead
-controlled by lusts of flesh and desires of the mind
-unable to resist lusts/desires
-Cure: Jesus
What does Jesus Himself say is our cure in John 5:24-25? "...anyone who hears My word and believes Him who sent Me has eternal life and will not come under judgment but has passed from death to LIFE."(again, the bolding and caps are added by me).
I used to be a zombie, stumbling around aimlessly trying to satisfy my unending hunger. If you weren't looking closely, you wouldn't have known. I mean, I'm wasn't walking around with my arms pulled in like a praying mantis, bent slightly to one side with clouded-over eyes in a decomposing body and moaning (I am not counting in the morning before I have had my second cup of coffee). I looked normal on the outside, but the inside was dead. But God loved me so much that He had mercy on me and made a way for me to be cured. I am a zombie no longer; I am alive!
Friday, April 29, 2011
Let There Be Light...Maybe
As I have previously mentioned, I played Design Star this past weekend, but I was not finished. Part of the plan for redecorating my room was to upgrade my lighting. I had a mis-match assortment of lamps and had decided to at least find some lampshades that I liked that went together. I had an idea in mind of what I wanted, but so far the price to upgrade was, well, let's just say "unpleasant".
I have my eye on a footstool at Bed, Bath, and Beyond that I really want. I took my sister to show her and get her valuable input a few days ago. On display next to my footstool was the absolute most beautiful lamp. A nice, bronze color with marble accents that reminded me of swirling coffee. It made my hearth sing. That is what I wanted!!! My mouth started to drool as I realized the exquisite lamp was part of a set: one floor lamp, two table lamps, and a smaller lamp. Amazing! Imagine my joy when I then looked to the price tag and discovered the lamps were on half-price clearance!!!!! Needless to say, they came home with me.
I could not wait to get home. I opened the box and began to assemble my precious lamps. After a few moments, though, I realized something was terribly wrong. I only had three lamps in my possession. Three lamps, not four. No smaller lamp at all. I dug back through the box, frantically searching for the lamp I must have overlooked. I called in my youngest sister, desperately hoping I had just missed it in all the excitement. My heart dropped to the floor as the sad realization that it was absent set in. I had managed to receive the shade, but not the lamp.
What was I to do? I pulled out my receipt and called the store. How was I going to explain this bizarre event? Would they even believe my story? Or would they assume I was another thief trying to rob them of a small lamp?
As you can see from the picture at the beginning, my melodrama has a happy ending. The manager asked me to bring in my receipt and they gave me the small lamp from the display. My joy was restored, and my room is now beautifully well-lit!
Do not despair, my footstool! I will return for you soon. And do not feel unloved because the lamps came home first; They were much less expensive than you are, and there was only one set left. My sincere desire is that you join me next week...
Friday, April 22, 2011
HGTV Inspired!
So, as ya'll all know, I am a huge HGTV fan. I drive my family crazy by leaving it on all day long. Even when I am not in the room watching, I love just listening to the shows. And no, there is nothing wrong with that! All this obsessing over paint techniques, furniture arraignments, proper displaying of accessories, and wall demolition has payed off this past weekend. Well, all but wall demo-we rent; but one day....
For eight years I have lived in my converted garage "apartment". No kitchen or private plumbing, but a nice sized open space that was just big enough for one car and maybe a lawn mower; the downside was that it was crowded with furniture. For a while I just tried to ignore it; the only time I spent in there was when I was sleeping. Then I got rid of a lot of unnecessary things, which made it better but still crowded. By now the claustrophobia was really starting to get to me.
Two weeks ago I had an idea: move some of the larger pieces of furniture around. So I started studying my living quarters. I decided to leave the bedroom side alone. There isn't anything I can do about that area. I turned my attention to the other side of my space. Years of planning, collecting, and dreaming had given me an assortment of furniture; you don't even want to know what is in the attic!
I measured my room and mapped it out on a grid. Then I did the same to my furniture. A very smart woman once told me to move furniture on paper instead of in the area. Paper furniture is so much lighter. I came up with a design that looked good, and then spent a few hours putting my plan into action. It is amazing how much of a difference taking a small couch and switching its home with an armchair. Pull the rocker next to that armchair for a nice, intimate conversation area, and perfection! The room feels so much more open and spacious, the claustrophobia is gone! Thank you HGTV!!!!!!!
I am in college for accounting, but after surveying the results of a few hours' work the thought of changing over to interior design did cross my mind. But hey, I've only got six more classes to go. I'm too far in to start over now...
For eight years I have lived in my converted garage "apartment". No kitchen or private plumbing, but a nice sized open space that was just big enough for one car and maybe a lawn mower; the downside was that it was crowded with furniture. For a while I just tried to ignore it; the only time I spent in there was when I was sleeping. Then I got rid of a lot of unnecessary things, which made it better but still crowded. By now the claustrophobia was really starting to get to me.
Two weeks ago I had an idea: move some of the larger pieces of furniture around. So I started studying my living quarters. I decided to leave the bedroom side alone. There isn't anything I can do about that area. I turned my attention to the other side of my space. Years of planning, collecting, and dreaming had given me an assortment of furniture; you don't even want to know what is in the attic!
I measured my room and mapped it out on a grid. Then I did the same to my furniture. A very smart woman once told me to move furniture on paper instead of in the area. Paper furniture is so much lighter. I came up with a design that looked good, and then spent a few hours putting my plan into action. It is amazing how much of a difference taking a small couch and switching its home with an armchair. Pull the rocker next to that armchair for a nice, intimate conversation area, and perfection! The room feels so much more open and spacious, the claustrophobia is gone! Thank you HGTV!!!!!!!
I am in college for accounting, but after surveying the results of a few hours' work the thought of changing over to interior design did cross my mind. But hey, I've only got six more classes to go. I'm too far in to start over now...
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
This is the Stuff...
"I lost my keys in the great unknown. Call me please, cause I can't find my phone. This is the stuff that drives me crazy; this is the stuff that's getting to me lately. In the middle of my little mess, I forget how big I'm blessed." Francesca Battistelli-This is the Stuff
So often we focus all our attention to the things that are causing us stress: family, job, school, ... The list could go on and on, but that would be defeating the purpose of this particular blog post. I don't want to call attention to the stresses in life; I want to call attention to the blessings!
Just like the line from this adorable song, we so often forget about the many blessings in life when surrounded by all our mess. Our focus is in the wrong place.
What are my blessings? Well, for starters, the same people I listed for causing some stress: my family. Don't get me wrong, I love my family! They are the best! And I am not just saying that because they will be the first ones to read this. They are super supportive and much wiser than I.
What else? My room. I live in the converted garage, and I just redecorated it a few days ago. Now it looks like one of those "luxury" one room apartments I see on HGTV, and I mean that in a good way! All I need is a tiny kitchen and bath in there and it would be perfect.
Next would have to be Zaboo. My spoiled-rotten kitty brings a smile to my face when she runs to the front door to great me as I return from the great beyond. And while she abhors any public displays of affection, when it is just the two of us she showers me with love and purrs. She is also a decent help with Accounting homework...
Don't forget about the little things, either: hot water for inside showers, indoor plumbing, air conditioning (it is a MUST in the hot and humid South!), a fridge full of food, a car that has been payed for and still drives like new,... These things truly are blessings!
"And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." Phillipians 4:8 NLT Look around. What are your blessings?
So often we focus all our attention to the things that are causing us stress: family, job, school, ... The list could go on and on, but that would be defeating the purpose of this particular blog post. I don't want to call attention to the stresses in life; I want to call attention to the blessings!
Just like the line from this adorable song, we so often forget about the many blessings in life when surrounded by all our mess. Our focus is in the wrong place.
What are my blessings? Well, for starters, the same people I listed for causing some stress: my family. Don't get me wrong, I love my family! They are the best! And I am not just saying that because they will be the first ones to read this. They are super supportive and much wiser than I.
What else? My room. I live in the converted garage, and I just redecorated it a few days ago. Now it looks like one of those "luxury" one room apartments I see on HGTV, and I mean that in a good way! All I need is a tiny kitchen and bath in there and it would be perfect.
Next would have to be Zaboo. My spoiled-rotten kitty brings a smile to my face when she runs to the front door to great me as I return from the great beyond. And while she abhors any public displays of affection, when it is just the two of us she showers me with love and purrs. She is also a decent help with Accounting homework...
Don't forget about the little things, either: hot water for inside showers, indoor plumbing, air conditioning (it is a MUST in the hot and humid South!), a fridge full of food, a car that has been payed for and still drives like new,... These things truly are blessings!
"And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." Phillipians 4:8 NLT Look around. What are your blessings?
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Pretty, Pretty!!!
So it's Easter time again, and it is tradition for the ladies to arrive at Easter Sunday services with brand new dresses. Thankfully, I am not a member of the churches that go for the matching hats and gloves (I do NOT look good in any kind of hat!). Not that there is anything wrong with the hats and gloves, mind you. I am just not a big fan.
For the last three years I have been without a brand new Easter dress. Not for lack of looking, but the selection of pretty, comfortable dresses in the fat ladies department has been sadly lacking. Seriously designers, not all of us are professional supermodels! Some of us have desk jobs. And there is no way I will ever be caught wearing a Mu-Mu in public. Although lately one of my problems has been the length: yes long dresses are nice, but I am just over 5 feet tall and the dresses are dragging the ground by a foot and a half on me! I did find one I liked this year, but of course, my size could not be found. Bummer....
As I said before, I have been sadly deprived of a new dress. It really is no big deal, and I have never lost sleep over it. But this year will be different, for this year I have a new dress!!!!!! And not just any new dress: a beautiful, bright and colorful green dress that looks amazing on me! The color is perfect for my skin tone and dyed reddish-brown hair( I was a natural gray at 14). The length is absolutely stunning for my short self, and the cute little jacket is just adorable! And I look absolutely adorable, if I do say so myself!!!
It is an amazing feeling of prettiness that came over me as I critically studied my reflection in the mirror. A pretty, well-fitting dress is magical. It can transform an ordinary woman into a beautiful princess. Yes, I am 30 years old, but I still want to feel like a princess.
The search for the perfect Easter dress is over. Now I just need to find some matching shoes.......
For the last three years I have been without a brand new Easter dress. Not for lack of looking, but the selection of pretty, comfortable dresses in the fat ladies department has been sadly lacking. Seriously designers, not all of us are professional supermodels! Some of us have desk jobs. And there is no way I will ever be caught wearing a Mu-Mu in public. Although lately one of my problems has been the length: yes long dresses are nice, but I am just over 5 feet tall and the dresses are dragging the ground by a foot and a half on me! I did find one I liked this year, but of course, my size could not be found. Bummer....
As I said before, I have been sadly deprived of a new dress. It really is no big deal, and I have never lost sleep over it. But this year will be different, for this year I have a new dress!!!!!! And not just any new dress: a beautiful, bright and colorful green dress that looks amazing on me! The color is perfect for my skin tone and dyed reddish-brown hair( I was a natural gray at 14). The length is absolutely stunning for my short self, and the cute little jacket is just adorable! And I look absolutely adorable, if I do say so myself!!!
It is an amazing feeling of prettiness that came over me as I critically studied my reflection in the mirror. A pretty, well-fitting dress is magical. It can transform an ordinary woman into a beautiful princess. Yes, I am 30 years old, but I still want to feel like a princess.
The search for the perfect Easter dress is over. Now I just need to find some matching shoes.......
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Simple Things
My windshield wipers have been on my car for over two years. This past winter, however, they decided to disintegrate. For a few months I was driving around with strips of rubber wipers flapping on my windshield. It was no big issue, though; the weather had been nice and clear.
With the arrival of spring comes the coating of yellow pollen all over my red car, especially on my windshield. So I go to pull the lever to wash off the windshield, and then I remembered my destroyed wipers. Needless to say they didn't do to good a cleaning job. But hey, I'll deal with it...
It has been raining steadily for the past two weeks, and here I am trying to drive down the road at 60mph, in the pouring rain, with practically no wipers. I finally broke down and asked my dad for the money to replace them (I am, unfortunately, still unemployed), to which he gladly gave me $20 and sent me down to Advanced Auto parts. Thanks Dad!!!!!!
In five minutes, I had payed for the wipers with frappuccino money to spare (Dad said I could have one), and they were installed on my car by someone who could reach over and take care of it. I have never been so glad to see raindrops on my windshield before! Gone were the flapping, scraping and screeching noises; gone were the gaps where the wiper was not present to take the water away. In their places were silent, efficient, perfectly choreographed movements of the new blades. Like two fluid ballerinas they flew perfectly over my windshield. I was thrilled!!!
I know wiper blades are not hugely important. They were a simple thing that I usually took for granted, until they fell apart. But, I think the simple things can bring us the greatest joy: new, functioning wiper blades; a tall enough person to install them; a dark chocolate Snickers bar; a Java Chip Frappuccino; my favorite song playing on my radio; and Zaboo keeping my feet warm at night.
Celebrate the simple things, and don't take them for granted. The simple things make me smile!
With the arrival of spring comes the coating of yellow pollen all over my red car, especially on my windshield. So I go to pull the lever to wash off the windshield, and then I remembered my destroyed wipers. Needless to say they didn't do to good a cleaning job. But hey, I'll deal with it...
It has been raining steadily for the past two weeks, and here I am trying to drive down the road at 60mph, in the pouring rain, with practically no wipers. I finally broke down and asked my dad for the money to replace them (I am, unfortunately, still unemployed), to which he gladly gave me $20 and sent me down to Advanced Auto parts. Thanks Dad!!!!!!
In five minutes, I had payed for the wipers with frappuccino money to spare (Dad said I could have one), and they were installed on my car by someone who could reach over and take care of it. I have never been so glad to see raindrops on my windshield before! Gone were the flapping, scraping and screeching noises; gone were the gaps where the wiper was not present to take the water away. In their places were silent, efficient, perfectly choreographed movements of the new blades. Like two fluid ballerinas they flew perfectly over my windshield. I was thrilled!!!
I know wiper blades are not hugely important. They were a simple thing that I usually took for granted, until they fell apart. But, I think the simple things can bring us the greatest joy: new, functioning wiper blades; a tall enough person to install them; a dark chocolate Snickers bar; a Java Chip Frappuccino; my favorite song playing on my radio; and Zaboo keeping my feet warm at night.
Celebrate the simple things, and don't take them for granted. The simple things make me smile!
Friday, March 11, 2011
My Informative Speech!!
Here you go Katrina. Hope you enjoy reading it! To the rest of the world, this is a copy of my Famous Dog Speech that I had to give in my speech class this past week. Hint: It really helps to hold on to old English essays, as they lend themselves so well for a speech...
Choosing a Dog
Dogs are one of the most popular pets in the United States. According to a 2009-2010 survey by the American Pet Products Manufacturers Association “there are approximately 77.5 million owned dogs in the United States, with 39% of US households owning at least one dog.” Dogs have a reputation of being man’s (or woman’s) best friend. Many people aspire to become dog owners for that reason alone. But before running down to the local animal shelter or pet store, potential doggie parents need to decide what kind of dog they want. Most of the time this decision is based upon breed, size, temperament, grooming needs, or slobber quantity. While these are things that need to be taken into consideration, they are not the most important factors in choosing a dog. The decision of which dog to bring home should be based on what an individual owner needs or wants a dog to be: Perfect Spouse, Personal Trainer, or Private Security.
First up is the Perfect Spouse, also known as a companion dog. These are typically the smaller breeds or couch potato dogs, such as Yorkies, Peinkanies, and smaller Bulldogs. It need not matter whether its owner is a man or woman; it will fulfill the basic desires and expectations of an ideal mate. From a woman’s point of view, a dog often makes a much better husband than a man ever would. Her dog is always attentive to how her day went. Hubby, as she has named her Yorkie, listens with rapt attention as she describes the trials and victories of work. He does not complain when dinner is late or maybe a little too overdone. He understands that she is mentally and physically exhausted and needs a quiet night of watching her favorite chick-flick movies. He shows his support of her decision with a wag of his tail as he hops up next to her and settles in for “Pride and Prejudice” with Keiera Knightly. A dog could also be a better wife for a man than a woman could ever hope to become. He knows that his bulldog, Lady, will not berate him for coming home late. There will be no questions of where he has been or why he didn’t bother to call. Lady is always pleased to be seen with him no matter what he is wearing. She is incapable of nagging about chores and loves to watch football and old John Wayne war movies. Her favorite place in the world is snuggled close to him as World War II era aircraft battle the skies for control of France. Hubby and Lady really are the Perfect Spouses.
Second, after the Perfect Spouse, is the Personal Trainer. Gym membership fees are costly, and to hire a human personal trainer is a monthly expense that is getting harder to afford. An active breed makes the best Personal Trainer. Dogs that were originally bread for farm life, such as Boxers, Shelties, and Border Collies fall into this category. Why go to the trainer when he/she is already at home? Zack, the Australian Sheppard, keeps his owners on a strict, active schedule. He pulls them out of bed at first light with his intense stare and a few short yaps, and it is go, go, go from there. First, he shows them how to stretch, preparing all the muscles for what is to come. Next, he starts his trainees off with a brisk walk to get their blood pumping and legs moving. If they do not move fast enough, he may possibly slow down some to encourage them. Then, Trainer Zack pushes for the run. There are no excuses, no shortcuts, and most definitely no whining allowed in this workout program. Zack is an expert in uphill jogging and long distance running. His main goal is to prepare his owners for the next Boston Marathon. After an hour of intense workout, Zack finally relents to take a break and leads his owners back home. But the rest is short-lived, for in a couple of hours he will start the workout all over again. There will be no couch potatoes in Zack’s house. He will not accept a half-hearted workout, no matter the circumstances. Running in the pouring rain builds endurance, and the thunder overhead just gives his owners more of an incentive to run faster. Why go to the sports center and pay to be yelled at by a semi-complete stranger when a Personal Trainer dog is perfectly happy to be paid in kibble and head-rubs?
Lastly, there are the dogs of Private Security. German Sheppards, Rottweilers, Dobermans, and most other larger and imposing looking breeds are the bodyguards in this field. Home security systems offer burglar protection while the homeowner is away, but any good action movie shows how a respectable criminal can bypass the system. Employ and train the right watchdog, and there will be no way to circumvent this security. The massive eyes would be enough to scare wannabe burglars away. The deep, loud barks of bravery are definitely going to make the intruder pass on to the next house on the street. A homeowner is never going to have to worry about a power outage causing a short and disabling the system. He will never wake up in the middle of the night wondering if he remembered to turn it back on after coming home from work. Private Security dogs can also be good walking companions. Sally Singlewoman will have no fear of an attack while on an evening walk with Bruno the Rottie by her side. His large head and alert ears are always scanning the terrain, looking for possible danger. He is ever vigilant at her side, and will warn any unknowns approaching his position to keep their distance. A criminal lurking in the park and watching for potential victims will quake in fear at the sight of Bruno. His monthly salary is a couple of doggie treats and a dish of kibble twice a day. Compare that to the monthly bill for a human bodyguard and one will find the Private Security dog is the way to go.
In closing, choosing a dog is as much about the owner’s lifestyle and needs as it is about the type of dog, and it requires some personal reflection and research. Animal Planet.Com has a dog breed selector questionnaire that will aid any unsure potential owner in deciding what they need. A marathon runner would not be happy with a Peinkanese or Pit bull. A jumpy woman living alone would not feel as safe and secure with a Shitzu or Sheltie. While a Bull Mastiff might be a passable companion dog, he would definitely take up too much of the couch on a bad-day movie night. Dogs come in many different shapes and sizes, but it is important for the owner to remember that they all fall into one of three categories. Dogs can be the Perfect Spouse, a Personal Trainer, or Private Security. The happiness of both the owner and the dog depends on knowing what is needed and who the best candidate to fill that need is.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Zaboo!!!!
See this face? Isn't it adorable?? This face belongs to my spoiled-rotten child, er, cat. Her name is Zoboomafoo and she is my baby. I call her Zaboo for short; Zoboomafoo is only used when she is doing something naughty and she knows it. Zaboo is quite an unusual kitty and has some interesting habits, such as a monstrous dislike of closed doors, especially if you are on the other side. She plays fetch better than most dogs. And she will obediently run to my (our) room at night when told to "go to bed". Of course, I have a massive southern accent, so it comes out more like "Zaaaboooo, go to bey-ud".
While she is daily deserving of a post in my blog for keeping my feet warm at night, drinking water out of the sink, playing with pound puppies, or just being so darn cute, I try not to write about her because I do not want to sound like a crazy cat lady just yet. However, last week she did something that I feel is worth telling the world.
I had decided to buy her a new toy. Why, I do not know. She prefers to "stalk" the toys from my youngest sister's room. Anyway... this particular toy came with a pouch a catnip, which I had decided not to give her. Someone had once referred to it as "marajuana for cats" and I am determined not to raise a druggie! However, I made the crucial error of leaving the small pouch out in the open where she could find it. The next afternoon, I noticed something strange going on. My precious yet mischievious child was croutched on the floor, with a glazed look in her giant green eyes. She was continuously rolling around on the same spot of the floor, practically rubbing herself into the carpet. After a few moments of watching her odd behavior I noticed small flakes of a foreign particle covering her soft, thick furr. I stooped down on the carpet to see what was so interesting to her, when I saw it: A small, torn plastic bag of what used to be catnip! My little snot had found the baggie, drug it under the couch, and proceeded to rip it open. Catnip was all over the floor and all over her. I called her by her full name, which only brought me a quick glance. "Whattt???" she seemed to innocently ask.
I cleaned her off as best I could, and vaccuumed up all of the offending particles, fussing her for her poor choices. For the next three days she would come to that same spot, croutching low and sniffing, as if looking for any trace amounts for her next kitty high. All of my hard work and carefull parenting, all for naught! But I have finally forgiven her (after a long 3 hours), and she has promised never to do it again. At lest that is what I enterpretted that "mrrrow" to mean.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Opportunities and Footholds
Leave no (such) room or foothold for the devil (give no opportunity to him). Ephesians 4:27 AMP
God has an interesting sense of timing, and He can use anything or anyone to speak through. I know this from personal experience, the latest of which occurred during Psychology class. Yeah, I know... God using Psychology!
We were studying the Foot in the Door phenomenon= "the tendency for people who have first agreed to a small request to comply later with a larger request". The book had even printed, at the end of the paragraph, these words: "To get people to agree to something big, start small and build (Cialdini, 1993). A trivial act makes the next act easier. Give in to a temptation and you will find the next temptation harder to resist." Psychology in Everyday Life, David G Meyers, pg 378
1 Peter 5:8 says that the devil is running around looking for someone he can devour. How does he eat us up? How do we find ourselves being eaten by him? It starts with a small decision: We give into a little temptation; we excuse an action or choice because it is no big deal or unimportant; and seriously, it won't hurt anybody, no one would even know. We agree to a small request, a trivial act, and he has his foot in the door. The he builds on that first step. The next choice is harder to refuse, the next temptation is stronger, the next act isn't so trivial. And we take another step closer to his gaping mouth. We had given him a foothold, and he is using it to gain ground in our lives. When did he start chewing on us? When we took that first step! He had us, and we didn't have a clue.
I started thinking of where the devil could get his insert his scaly foot: Music, Books, Movies, TV, Friends, Work, The Internet,.... Now, I am NOT saying that all movies and tv shows are evil, and we should only be listening to old gospel music, and should never, ever get on the computer. However, I do think we need to be guarding our hearts and minds as we are watching tv, reading popular fiction, surfing the web, listening to the radio, and hanging with our buds. Taking every thought captive to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5) will go a very long way in keeping us from becoming lion chow, a snack for the devil.
Yep, God showed up in my Psychology class. He has an excellent sense of humor!
God has an interesting sense of timing, and He can use anything or anyone to speak through. I know this from personal experience, the latest of which occurred during Psychology class. Yeah, I know... God using Psychology!
We were studying the Foot in the Door phenomenon= "the tendency for people who have first agreed to a small request to comply later with a larger request". The book had even printed, at the end of the paragraph, these words: "To get people to agree to something big, start small and build (Cialdini, 1993). A trivial act makes the next act easier. Give in to a temptation and you will find the next temptation harder to resist." Psychology in Everyday Life, David G Meyers, pg 378
1 Peter 5:8 says that the devil is running around looking for someone he can devour. How does he eat us up? How do we find ourselves being eaten by him? It starts with a small decision: We give into a little temptation; we excuse an action or choice because it is no big deal or unimportant; and seriously, it won't hurt anybody, no one would even know. We agree to a small request, a trivial act, and he has his foot in the door. The he builds on that first step. The next choice is harder to refuse, the next temptation is stronger, the next act isn't so trivial. And we take another step closer to his gaping mouth. We had given him a foothold, and he is using it to gain ground in our lives. When did he start chewing on us? When we took that first step! He had us, and we didn't have a clue.
I started thinking of where the devil could get his insert his scaly foot: Music, Books, Movies, TV, Friends, Work, The Internet,.... Now, I am NOT saying that all movies and tv shows are evil, and we should only be listening to old gospel music, and should never, ever get on the computer. However, I do think we need to be guarding our hearts and minds as we are watching tv, reading popular fiction, surfing the web, listening to the radio, and hanging with our buds. Taking every thought captive to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5) will go a very long way in keeping us from becoming lion chow, a snack for the devil.
Yep, God showed up in my Psychology class. He has an excellent sense of humor!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
My Winter Wonderland!
You need to understand: I have spent my entire life living in areas where snowfall is rare, almost unheard of. I would see it on the news, in old Christmas movies, and in other people's vacation photos. Occasionally I would be lucky enough to see some sporadic flakes descending from above, but those moments were always few and very far between. So when Mr Weather dares hint about possible snow, I get so excited.
For the last few years I have been living right on the east coast. Hurricanes we get, snow we don't. But this winter has been an exception. I got to see an almost White Christmas, and that was amazing. I tend to think of it as a belayed Christmas gift from God. A few weeks later, on the first day of classes, I woke up to a surprise snow that shut down the school system (God's surprise present to me). Both of these occurances of winter weather left less than 3 inches of snow, but that didn't matter to me. I saw snow!
I thought all this was amazing and wonderful, but it was nothing compared to what visited the coast this past weekend! I was cautiously informed by Mr Weather that there was a small possibility of a "dusting" to occur late Saturday afternoon. Imagine my surprise and joy when, at 10am Saturday morning, tiny white flakes began floating down from the sky. How pretty they were! I sat by the window and enjoyed them while I could, because I was told they wouldn't be dancing for me for long.
Not only did they keep falling, they came down heavier and faster. The lithe dancers turned into hardy runners and raced each other to the ground. Within hours I huddled under my electric blanket as I drank in the sight of a complete white-out beyond my dining room windows. Poor Mr Weather was so confused. By the end of the day it had finally stopped falling. What was predicted to be a light dusting had left over 6 inches on my porch!
Now I know some of you do not like the snow, but I love it! I love the look of a brand new white blanket covering my muddy, rutted yard and stately Snowmen guarding my driveway. The smell of the snow, crisp and fresh and clean, enraptures my senses. The sound of snow, however, is my favorite thing. Snow is quiet, muffling out the chaotic sounds of the world and leaving a calming peacefulness in its wake. For a few moments I forget about the worries of life. Everything is new. Everything is clean. Everything is quiet. Everything is perfect.
For the last few years I have been living right on the east coast. Hurricanes we get, snow we don't. But this winter has been an exception. I got to see an almost White Christmas, and that was amazing. I tend to think of it as a belayed Christmas gift from God. A few weeks later, on the first day of classes, I woke up to a surprise snow that shut down the school system (God's surprise present to me). Both of these occurances of winter weather left less than 3 inches of snow, but that didn't matter to me. I saw snow!
I thought all this was amazing and wonderful, but it was nothing compared to what visited the coast this past weekend! I was cautiously informed by Mr Weather that there was a small possibility of a "dusting" to occur late Saturday afternoon. Imagine my surprise and joy when, at 10am Saturday morning, tiny white flakes began floating down from the sky. How pretty they were! I sat by the window and enjoyed them while I could, because I was told they wouldn't be dancing for me for long.
Not only did they keep falling, they came down heavier and faster. The lithe dancers turned into hardy runners and raced each other to the ground. Within hours I huddled under my electric blanket as I drank in the sight of a complete white-out beyond my dining room windows. Poor Mr Weather was so confused. By the end of the day it had finally stopped falling. What was predicted to be a light dusting had left over 6 inches on my porch!
Now I know some of you do not like the snow, but I love it! I love the look of a brand new white blanket covering my muddy, rutted yard and stately Snowmen guarding my driveway. The smell of the snow, crisp and fresh and clean, enraptures my senses. The sound of snow, however, is my favorite thing. Snow is quiet, muffling out the chaotic sounds of the world and leaving a calming peacefulness in its wake. For a few moments I forget about the worries of life. Everything is new. Everything is clean. Everything is quiet. Everything is perfect.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Frozen Inside and Out
I am an addict, but I do not have a problem. Admitting that I have a problem would entail lableing my frequent trips to Starbucks as detrimental, and we all know they are not. There can be absolutely nothing adverse about the happiness waiting right inside the entryway for me. I can also quit whenever I want to. I just don't want to.
This past week I began my second year as a full-time college student, complete with a night class located 45 minutes from my home. Getting there was not an issue. It is a relatively easy drive and I had my own personal mix of Owl City to accompany me. Staying awake through the class, however, was the issue. It was a chilly 26 degrees outside, not taking into effect the biting wind. So naturally, those in charge of the thermostat felt the need to overcompensate for the frigidness outside by roasting us alive inside. In less than two minutes my coat and scarf had come off, and I was bemoaning my winter clothing. For the next two and a half hours I vainly struggled to stay awake and focused on Governmental and Non-Profit Accounting. Yes, is it exactly as stimulating as it sounds.
By the time the class was over I did not know what I was going to do. I was hot, tired, and my brain hurt. How would I ever make that late night drive home through the now dark and deer-infested roads? With a smile on my weary face I exited the oven and walked out into the freezer,got into my car and headed to the Target; for the Target alone held my only hope: a Starbucks!
Shivering, I walked up to the counter and placed my order. "I realize that it is less than 30 degrees outside, but I NEED a Grande Java Chip Frappuccino, please" I said through chattering teeth to the barista. Amazingly, she didn't laugh out loud at me like I thought she would. And in less than five minutes later I was returning to the bitter cold with my frozen coffee drink clenched in my bare hands. No, I do not have a problem.
Now I know that one is supposed to have a hot drink when it is so cold outside. The heat from a hot coffee or a hot chocolate warms a person from the inside out. But that was not what I wanted. "Besides," I said to my dear friend the Frapp, "if I had something hot inside it would make me confused on the outside. Better to be cold both without and within, as it requires much less thought." I needed the concentration to drive myself home.
I slowly enjoyed my Frapp all the way home that night, and thankfully saw no deer waiting to attack me. I credit the Java Chips with scaring them off. Java Chips usually terrify any living creature at night, except me. Yes, I can quit whenever I want to. I just don't want to.
This past week I began my second year as a full-time college student, complete with a night class located 45 minutes from my home. Getting there was not an issue. It is a relatively easy drive and I had my own personal mix of Owl City to accompany me. Staying awake through the class, however, was the issue. It was a chilly 26 degrees outside, not taking into effect the biting wind. So naturally, those in charge of the thermostat felt the need to overcompensate for the frigidness outside by roasting us alive inside. In less than two minutes my coat and scarf had come off, and I was bemoaning my winter clothing. For the next two and a half hours I vainly struggled to stay awake and focused on Governmental and Non-Profit Accounting. Yes, is it exactly as stimulating as it sounds.
By the time the class was over I did not know what I was going to do. I was hot, tired, and my brain hurt. How would I ever make that late night drive home through the now dark and deer-infested roads? With a smile on my weary face I exited the oven and walked out into the freezer,got into my car and headed to the Target; for the Target alone held my only hope: a Starbucks!
Shivering, I walked up to the counter and placed my order. "I realize that it is less than 30 degrees outside, but I NEED a Grande Java Chip Frappuccino, please" I said through chattering teeth to the barista. Amazingly, she didn't laugh out loud at me like I thought she would. And in less than five minutes later I was returning to the bitter cold with my frozen coffee drink clenched in my bare hands. No, I do not have a problem.
Now I know that one is supposed to have a hot drink when it is so cold outside. The heat from a hot coffee or a hot chocolate warms a person from the inside out. But that was not what I wanted. "Besides," I said to my dear friend the Frapp, "if I had something hot inside it would make me confused on the outside. Better to be cold both without and within, as it requires much less thought." I needed the concentration to drive myself home.
I slowly enjoyed my Frapp all the way home that night, and thankfully saw no deer waiting to attack me. I credit the Java Chips with scaring them off. Java Chips usually terrify any living creature at night, except me. Yes, I can quit whenever I want to. I just don't want to.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
To the Victor goes the Frap!
Come, friends and celebrate with me. Raise your frappuccino cups in victory, for I have conquered my adversary! After having spent the last day in a fierce battle for supremacy, I have won. My enemy was deceptively sneaky, and there were times when I thought I would lose the fight. It didn't help that I was unprepared for the battle and had never suspected that an ambush was lying in wait behind a seemingly easy problem. That problem: assembling an office desk.
Sure, it looked easy on the box. A very simple desk, with the most advanced piece being a pull-out drawer for a keyboard and mouse. It was much heavier than I had perceived it to be, but after I had arraigned to have it deposited into the space I would be assembling it in I thought the rest of the project would be a chunk of brownie (I don't like cake). And the instructions insisted it would only take an hour and a half. How hard could it be?
Never believe the lie of the instructions! Especially when they state how easy something is to put together. They trick you into believing them, and then they have you doubting your sanity and threatening extreme violence against an inanimate object. After studying the pre-assembly instructions (seriously, everything is in the pre-assembly stage until it is finished, right?) I was left in a state of utter confusion. Why weren't the screws called screws? Where is part number 7? What direction is FRONT really supposed to be facing? And there is no such thing as the pre-attached plastic anchors in parts 3, 6, 7, and 4!
It was right after the second interruption of my now two hour fight that I almost threw my hands up in surrender. I had become distracted and had glued a whole section on facing the opposite direction ( I blame that on my unexpected visitor) and the temptation to collapse into despair almost overwhelmed me. But then I remembered who I am. I am Samantha! I am a smart, highly educated woman! I fear no computer desk! It shall not defeat me! I attacked the assorted parts and pieces with renewed vigor, and they bowed to my will. After another hour of gluing and assembling, I stood back and basked in my glory: my desk was complete. In ten minutes I had wrestled it against the wall I had chosen and had placed all my equipment onto it. I held my head up high, my proud gaze critically sweeping over my accomplishment. It looked great!
The desk chair, which had remained in its box the entire duration of my epic battle, must have realized that resistance was futile. Within five minutes I was sitting on it adjusting the hiegth. I was Queen Samantha, sitting on my majestic throne regally surveying my hard won kingdom.
After striving so long and hard, I deserved a reward. And that Grande Java Chip Frappuccino hit the spot. Bring on the next challenge!
Sure, it looked easy on the box. A very simple desk, with the most advanced piece being a pull-out drawer for a keyboard and mouse. It was much heavier than I had perceived it to be, but after I had arraigned to have it deposited into the space I would be assembling it in I thought the rest of the project would be a chunk of brownie (I don't like cake). And the instructions insisted it would only take an hour and a half. How hard could it be?
Never believe the lie of the instructions! Especially when they state how easy something is to put together. They trick you into believing them, and then they have you doubting your sanity and threatening extreme violence against an inanimate object. After studying the pre-assembly instructions (seriously, everything is in the pre-assembly stage until it is finished, right?) I was left in a state of utter confusion. Why weren't the screws called screws? Where is part number 7? What direction is FRONT really supposed to be facing? And there is no such thing as the pre-attached plastic anchors in parts 3, 6, 7, and 4!
It was right after the second interruption of my now two hour fight that I almost threw my hands up in surrender. I had become distracted and had glued a whole section on facing the opposite direction ( I blame that on my unexpected visitor) and the temptation to collapse into despair almost overwhelmed me. But then I remembered who I am. I am Samantha! I am a smart, highly educated woman! I fear no computer desk! It shall not defeat me! I attacked the assorted parts and pieces with renewed vigor, and they bowed to my will. After another hour of gluing and assembling, I stood back and basked in my glory: my desk was complete. In ten minutes I had wrestled it against the wall I had chosen and had placed all my equipment onto it. I held my head up high, my proud gaze critically sweeping over my accomplishment. It looked great!
The desk chair, which had remained in its box the entire duration of my epic battle, must have realized that resistance was futile. Within five minutes I was sitting on it adjusting the hiegth. I was Queen Samantha, sitting on my majestic throne regally surveying my hard won kingdom.
After striving so long and hard, I deserved a reward. And that Grande Java Chip Frappuccino hit the spot. Bring on the next challenge!
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