The formatting is messed up once again.  I'll wait and see if they can fix it and try again tomorrow.  

I had to drive to OK City early this morning.  Didn't know where I was going, how to get there and ended up parking three or four blocks from where I needed to be.

That is too far for me to walk anymore...

I'm taking the rest of the day off.

 I ate at the Olive Garden for lunch yesterday and planned on being good the rest of the day.  But.....Becky called and asked me to come over for oxtail soup.  I'm figuring broth.  Lo-cal.

It was delicious, however, to go with it her nephew Chad who is currently living with them, baked a loaf of yeast bread.  The one thing I can't say "no" to.   

Today, I a going to repent.  The result of eating all of that food, (I'm not admitting to how many slices of bread I ate) is another pound in the wrong direction.

I am determined that I am not going to be part of some of the over 70 women in the USA and end up fat.  In their defense, when you retire, you don't have as active a life and it creeps up on you.

My friend Jeanette lost a huge number of pounds and she keeps a before and after picture in her purse to show anyone who doesn't believe it can be done.

Discipline, discipline, discipline.  Like I said, I'm repenting.  I only have one problem.  Chad sent a slice of bread home with me.  What was I thinking!!!

 All the up and down, small and large print on my posts are part of the "New and improved" format.  It's driving me nuts.  I apologize for it.

There is a storm coming in--it's started raining--and Squig has already started shaking.  My sweet little "Chicken" Dog.

I was trying to figure out what "stimulus" meant the other day.  I decided it was this:  Someone gets a dollar, spends it at the grocery store and the store gives 10 cents (more or less) of it in tax to the government.  The store has 90 cents left, buys chicken to sell and the chicken seller gets the 90 cent payment, pays 9 cents to the government in taxes and has 81 cents left to buy chicken feed.  

The feed store gets to keep 72-73 cents and pays 8 cents to the government in taxes.  The feed store has 65 cents left to pay the farmer that grows the grain to make the chicken feed, who has 58 cents left, to pay the farmer who pays the fertilizer company, hires someone to help cut the grain, buys a tractor and on and on and on.

It takes about 27 to 30 days before the government gets the entire dollar back from taxes. (Allowing for mathematical error?)  That's why they call it stimulus.  It only works if everyone spends it.  When you keep it, when you don't spend it, it's called something else.  So if you got a stimulus check and didn't spend it, you upset the apple-tax-cart.  

 

I am glad it's Friday.  I've run out of things to write about.  It's been a bland week.  The weather has been awesome.

Four of my friends have been on the new point-count diet with Weight Watchers.  It's the first reasonable diet I've ever heard about.  Based on your height and BMI, you get a permanent point plan. I've always counted calories myself--but that is a Big Pain to do.  Adding numbers.

With the WW point count, you don't have to give anything up.  Just stay under your point assignment.  Every restaurant in America, every meal on their menu--has already been "Pointed" for you.  Pick up a menu, check your phone and order!  

The thing I like is that there is a huge list of foods you can eat that have zero points.  Chicken, fish, (don't fry them), eggs, almost all veggies and fruits.  You can eat stuff like that all day and have Ice cream if you want it.  It's not punitive if you want something that other diets tell you "No."

If I needed to lose weight, I'd go on that plan.  No, WW isn't having me promote it--I've just seen friends do really well on the plan.  When they want a donut, they eat one.  And count the points.  Everyone I know is on 23 points a day with no problem.  All are losing weight, eating out when they want to and doing well.  Getting their body healthy.

 "This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it."

Sometimes, that's not an easy thing to do.  Bad things happen.  We are sad.  A friend has something going on that is difficult.  One of your children is mad at you.  Someone has a disease that is stage four and hope is vanishing.

I think the best thing to do is hum.  I like "Holy, holy, holy."  God is still on His throne in charge of the world.

I've started repeating The Lord's Prayer.  It's like I rediscovered it.  I just think on each topic.  

"Father.  Heaven.  Hallowed Name.  Kingdom Coming.  God's will.  (Being done.)  Food, bread.  (I love bread.)  Forgiveness.  Power.  Glory. 

Repeating it takes me a lot longer than it used to.  When I get to the word Hallowed, I think: Majestic, awesome, uplifted, holy, breathtaking, supreme, and on and on.

Concentrating on His character helps me change mine.  

If someone disses you, let it go.  They are just having a bad day.

 This morning, I let the dog out, turned the back porch light on and there were flashing lights on the ground like fireflies.  No rain, but there must have been some in the night because the tiny lights were sprinkles of water on the tips of the grass reflecting the porch light.  So pretty.  I had never seen anything exactly like that.

Pretty is all around us, but since we have been living in an ugly world this year, sometimes we fail--or forget--to notice it.

God is all around us, speaking to us.  "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the earth shows forth his handiwork...Day unto day utters speech, and night unto night shows knowledge.  There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard."

Day unto day.  Night unto night.  But we wander around in a fog sometimes.  It's reassuring that anyone, anywhere, can know that there is a "Someone" who did all of this.

God says, "If you seek me, you will find me."  That's pretty easy.  I wonder why the world isn't looking?  You only get a few days on this earth and then you are going to meet Him.  I think if I didn't already know Him, I'd start looking.  I think I'd start with the book of John.

Checking Blogger Settings

 Pat came over and tried to set up a default for my blog.  Nope!!  My platform has decided what is good for me.  And what's good for me is good for everyone else as well.  I am very upset with them.

Every user comment is negative.  Everyone hates what they have done.  So what can we, I, do about it???  Nothing.

Sometimes life is like that.  You run into a brick wall.  When that happens, you have three choices.  1. Give up and sit there looking at the bricks.       2. Find another path and go around the problem. 3. Get a sledge hammer.  I'm in favor of a sledge hammer right about now.

The Corona virus has been the same kind of problem.  1. Talk about how bad the pandemic is.  2. Blame someone for the condition the country is in. 3. Demand your rights for your freedom.  4. Wear a mask.  5. Give up go on as normal, and decide everyone is going to get it anyway.

I just stay home and am thankful to God that I don't have to go to work anymore to live.  I don't know what I would have done back when I had a job and four children.  People are whipped by this thing.

No school.  How do you work and also teach children at home.  We are going to have an entire nation that missed a year of school???

 Blogger has changed its format.  I don't like it.  It may look the same when you receive it, but on my end it is a mess.

Every time I start a new paragraph, I have to adjust the font--and the size of the print.  Both of them.  I'm going to have to go get my daughter Pat to fix me with the old format.  I do not like change.

Older people don't like change, so I am not alone.  Just at a time you are losing dexterity and motion, changing anything is difficult.

I like to watch my children and grand-children's dogs.  But David got a huge golden retriever that is so loving and friendly with a constantly wagging tail, that the dog knocks me over just wanting to be loved.

Adjusting to imbalance is difficult.  You always had a body that responded like it was supposed to--and now it doesn't.

Making changes due to aging is bad enough.  I don't need blogger changing my font size.  I don't like not being able to stand in line for two hours to vote, (like the last time I voted).  I don't like not being able to do the things I used to do with ease.  I don't like things to change.

If you have a grandmother in your family with problems like that.  Try and be patient.  God's (soon) gonna give us a new body that works right.

 Corona is one house down.   My neighbor went to check on his folks in Texas.  His dad was hospitalized and died from Corona while he was there, and my neighbor never made it home.  He got exposed, caught it and has been in the hospital in Texas ever since.  So sad.  

Gets real when it's someone you know.

He is such a nice guy.  His name is Jay. One night there was noise in my house in the middle of the night.  I called my realtor friend across the street, but he was in Colorado and couldn't check it out--so he called Jay.

Three in the morning, and Jay is at my door to tell me he is checking all around the house for me.  He has a gun and checked out everything.  I had never met Jay, but he stood at my door and said, "Hello, my name is Jay.  John called me to come help you."  I have great neighbors.

Turned out it was a raccoon in my attic.  

I don't like to hear that anyone is sick, but for sure I don't want someone to get sick that is willing to get out of bed at three in the morning to go help a frightened neighbor.  God give us more friends like that.

Exterminators trapped the raccoon.  Nasty critters.

I forgot to post yesterday!  I had a connection group party around one o'clock and came home brain dead I was so tired.

My spider lilies are blooming.  Bright red.  Twenty five of them.  That means that next year I'll have fifty of them.

I'm cat sitting this week.  I don't have her here at my house, I just go pet her and make sure she has food and water.  Her name is Daisy.  She's Persian.  Sweet, calm--the perfect cat.  I would steal her if I could get away with it!!!  Squig loves her too.

Becky has a new dog--Ellie May.  Wild as a March hare.  She is just a puppy.  Squig is tired of her wanting to play in about thirty seconds.  She jumps straight up in the air and does a 180 and then jumps up and does another one.  She never stops jumping.  Pure energy.

Squig and I are worn out by the time we go home.  We are both old dogs.

Becky got me one of those see through plastic masks and when I went to dinner yesterday I forgot I had it on and tried to eat my soup through it.  It didn't work--to say the least.  I like it.  No sweat, no getting hot.  I just have to remember I have it on!!

Messed up

Forgot

to

Post.

My daddy always took me to get my immunization shots.  And when it was over, he would buy me a strawberry malt, and shake nutmeg in it.  I always carry nutmeg in the pocket of my car.  If I need a special treat, that's it.  If the urge for a strawberry malt hits me, (always strawberry) I'm prepared.

I have no idea where he got the money for the malt.  Back then, there wasn't any money for such things.  My mom and dad lived paycheck to paycheck like everyone else during WWII.  Everything was already allocated when the check came in.  Nothing left over for fol-de-rol like a malt.

Rent, utilities, gasoline (to get in a car pool-you didn't just drive a car to go get something, you walked), etc.  Food wasn't on the list.  Gran raised a garden and supplied canned goods.  She had a cow for milk and butter, and chickens for eggs.  And when we went to her house, we had fried chicken.  It was always tough, because the only hen a person could sacrifice was an old one that had quit laying eggs.  Or an old rooster for chicken and dumplings.

You had to have a ration stamp for meat--if you could afford it.  The grocery stores had freezer cases with horse meat--advertised as "not" for people.  But there were some who ate it since it was so cheap. We weren't that desperate.

My other grandmother was on rations and got blocks of cheese. (Remember those?)  Our staples were macaroni, beans and cornbread.

Everything was fried in bacon grease.  Jars of bacon grease were saved in the refrigerator so it wouldn't go rancid.  And lard.  How did we survive all that bad fat?  Who knows.  But every now and then, I fry okra in bacon grease.  The taste is a memory of what it was like to be poor and well fed.  

Sunday, the lesson I taught was on the sixth Chapter of Isaiah.  I remember when I was a little girl, I heard a sermon on this and it has stuck with me all this time.

"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up..."  The pastor said that sometimes, the year that something happens sticks in our head.  Isaiah had lived through other kings, but Uzziah was a good king.  Isaiah was disturbed by what was going to happen next.

This year will be like that.  None of us will forget 2020.

When Isaiah had the vision, he said, "Woe is me! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips.  We are also living in a nation of people who have run out of curse words, and foul words.  They have used them up and now attach adjectives to them to make them worse. 

I asked the class why the seraphim picked up a burning coal and touched Isaiah's lips and declared him clean and purged from iniquity and sin--when everywhere else in the Bible, cleansing from sin is always from the blood of sheep, doves, and finally, from Jesus.  He died as the ultimate sacrifice.

One of the women said, "Well, Isaiah had declared himself a man with unclean lips, and God always meets us at the point where we need grace.

God was getting ready to use Isaiah as a spokesperson to warn the Jews in Judah and Israel that he was sick of their sin.  And Isaiah's mouth was to be the instrument of God's message.  God touched him at the point that Isaiah had declared was unclean.  His mouth.  

It turned out much better than I hoped.  I was relaxed, the crowd was very, very attentive.  (What more could you hope for) And I was satisfied with the job I did.  Satisfying me--with myself--is not an easy thing to do.

I received a standing ovation.  Best ever result.

It's always easy to talk about Ken, and all the things he did in the Marine Corps.  But they wanted a speech on what it was like to send him to war.  It was a program on Viet Nam.  

And I was able to read a few comments from the book I've written.  There was a lot of interest in when it will be out.  Projected for the Saturday after Thanksgiving in Oklahoma.  Amazon later.  (The Letter)

But for me...it's over.  I am so thankful it is over.  If the event planner had called 15 minutes before the event and said: "Our speaker can't make it.  He, she, has the flu--can you fill in...then I wouldn't have had a problem.

I can do last minute.

It was having three months before it--looming down on me.  Out there on the horizon--waiting.  That meant it had to be perfect because I had plenty of time to prepare?

Oh well.  It's done.  I can get back to writing this book I'm writing about my brother...leisurely.  No pressure.

I feel like I'm starting the first day of the rest of my life.  Calendars empty.

Having a meltdown.  Got a call last night that the entire American Legion and other veterans are coming to hear me speak tonight.  In addition to the Daughters of the American Revolution.

I was supposed to speak to women. Now, it's many men as well. I have to entirely revise what I am going to say.  And how I'm going  to say it.  I'll do that today. 

I am never nervous to speak, but speaking to a mixed group is an entirely different ball of wax than just to women.  

Men are not good listeners to women talking.  Not being critical or judgmental, they just listen to other men speak better.  I'll give it my old gung-ho best.

Every veteran at this time in our history is a volunteer.  The last draft was in the 1960's.  They choose to serve; they are not forced by the draft.

I am supposed to talk about Viet Nam and what it was like for those of us who sent their loved ones to an unpopular war.

The children who lost loved ones in that war are now in their sixties.  That's hard to fathom.  I was twenty-eight when Ken left.  He was thirty seven.  He had already flown over one-hundred missions in Korea.

He had nineteen and a half years in the Marines when he got orders.  Six more months and he could have missed it and retired.  But his orders were for thirteen months in Nam.  We had three children. Forth grade, second grade and three years old.  It wasn't my favorite thirteen months.  His either.

New Mattress Report.  Woke up with no backache.  I'll give it a week before I say for sure, but I think this is going to help.

Rain is pouring down this morning and Squig is lying on my lap NOT Shaking.  Maybe the new mattress cured him?  Not shaking when it rains is a first.  Of course he is getting old, maybe he can't hear the rain?

The last time I read through Isaiah, I marked my Bible, "Interesting, but you don't need to read this again..."  Just goes to show you how wrong you can be.  Our quarterlies are covering Isaiah, so I am teaching it.

It's like reading about America down the tubes.  When I think about the 1940's and the years since then, it is like we took a downward spiral.

God tells the Israelites:  What is the point of coming to my temple?  You bring vain oblations multitudes of sacrifices to what end.  Your lives don't change.  You make me sick.  I can't stand you.  I am weary of you.  Stop bringing them.

He says: When you spread your hands to heaven, I am going to hide my eyes.  I won't see you.  When you pray, I will refuse to hear you.

It's like people who go through all the motions, come to church, throw some money in the plate, sing the songs, listen to the sermon and prayers--then go out of the building with no change in their lives.  Continuing to cheat, steal, commit adultery, lie, fake their taxes, ignore the poor.

God said, "Come now, let us reason together..."  Sin--and we all know what that is--separates us from God.  He is sick of our charade.  He destroyed Israel after Isaiah spoke to them and they didn't repent.  What about America?

Today I get a new mattress.  About time.  The one I've been sleeping on looks like a double canoe.  When one side is all sunk in, I get the boys to rotate it.  Give it a chance to refresh itself.  

Since it is king-size and almost square, last time they rotated it, I had them do it only 90 degrees so I have the sideways foot of the bed now going up and down.   I am actually sleeping on the foot of the bed.

That was better, but it didn't last long.

I detest shopping.  But I finally did it.  I tried all those foam top types and they were too squishy.  I need extra-firm

After leaving the sleep center, I had it narrowed down to two.  I slept on the "foot" of my bed a couple of more nights just to be sure I Really needed a mattress and finally went back and spent an hour lying on those two before I finally bought one.

I'm sure it is the wrong one.

I really, really, really don't like to shop.

Today I am going to go through my decades of clothes and try to decide what to wear Thursday when I speak.  I'd rather be hung by my heels than go buy something new and have to shop for it.

"Consider the lilies...Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." Luke 12:27  I'll just pull something off a hanger and hope for the best.

Monday.  This week on Thursday, I have to speak at the Daughters of the Revolution.  

I am the world's worst procrastinator and have not written a speech yet.  

All I've done is worry about it.  I've got to get something on paper.

And of course, being a woman, I am wondering what I will wear.  I went to a Mexican restaurant with my class last week and was so hungry I ate the cheese dip with a spoon.  I gained three pounds and anything I might have wanted to wear isn't going to fit.  

I don't think I can lose it all in four days, but I'm going to give it the old college try. 

I don't want to wish my life away, but when I have anything hanging over me that I have to do, I just want it over with.  Dentist, grocery shopping, getting gas, or giving a speech.  Whatever.

You feel like you are tied down to "that day." It's looming over you. 

I used to be able to do a zillion things every week:  Four kids, teach at a college 55 miles away from my house every day.  Grade papers.  Cook meals.  Wash, dry, sort, put away.  Now I can be made anxious by only one thing.

Maybe I wash a load every two weeks .  I don't cook.  I'm retired, so no papers to grade.  Maybe the problem is that I have too much time on my hands?  So I'm not forced into a schedule?  Maybe I need to make one out.

Carolyn and I have been discussing snakes.  Specifically the assumed "snake" in the book of Genesis.  I have always assumed that the "Serpent" was a cunning, beautiful creature.  Genesis 3:1 says, "Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast..."  

I can't believe Eve would have been tempted to engage conversation with an ugly thing.  Sin is always enticing.  Something that was called a Serpent appeared to Eve and tempted her.  What was this thing called a Serpent? Rev. 20:2, "...an angel..laid hold on..that old serpent which is the Devil...Satan...  

Lucifer was cast out of heaven and sent to earth. He was an angel.  Angels were beautiful.  We think they had wings.  There is no Biblical indication that Lucifer came to earth as a snake! It was Satan--a "serpent" who tempted Eve.

If Lucifer--Satan--is the "Serpent," he was a fallen angel and had not yet been cursed by God to crawl on his belly.  Hence:  Eve was not tempted by a snake.  She was tempted by a "Serpent."

Only then was the word "Serpent" transferred to assign a name  for something on its belly--which we assumed to be a snake.  The word snake is not used until Mark 16, when it mentions handling snakes.

Once the word "Serpent" is assigned to snakes by implication, the word "Serpent" was used for snakes in the rest of the Bible.  We use the two words interchangeably that way as well.  

I believe Eve was not tempted by a snake.  She was tempted by a serpent--the Devil--Lucifer, the fallen angel.  Who was then cursed to crawl on his belly.

My friend Carolyn--who lives back in my hometown of Pryor--was a year behind me in school.  We talk on the phone every day and have absolutely nothing to say and spend thirty or so minutes saying it.

She told me that this:  "Anymore, I can't do what I wanna' do--and I don't want to do what I can do."  That pretty much sums up my day.  Except for one thing.  There isn't much I want to do anymore except read--and write.

And neither one of those activities require that I get out of my chair.

Which means I have to force myself to exercise.  Which is one of those things I don't want to do.

Luckily, I'm not one of those people who gain weight.  I've always been able to eat like a horse and stay thin.  More than that, I eat all day, six or seven small meals.  I'm either thinking about food, or eating it.  I'm always hungry.

I watched a show on NOVA yesterday called "The Truth About Fat."  It was interesting.  All about different kinds of metabolism.  And genetics that effect weight gain.  Sometimes, it's not your fault.  Everyone who is over weight needs to get their body profile done to find out how they burn calories.

People who know me have always wondered how I eat so much and don't gain weight.  The show on NOVA explained a lot.  We have what is called a "set-point" that our particular body gravitates to--when we try to lose weight.  If we go below that point, our body thinks it is starving.  The show was enlightening.

My body thinks it is starving all the time. 

Monday night was a killer.  Pouring down rain all night long.  Which meant Squig didn't sleep.  He shook.  Which meant I didn't sleep either.  I got up at midnight and gave him his anti-anxiety medication--but this rainstorm didn't let up until 9 the next morning and neither did the Squig shaking.

He finally crawled under a blanket and then panted because he was so hot.  It was a bad night for his human.  She couldn't comfort him.  Nothing worked.

You would think the thunder and lightening would have been what scared him.  But no...lightening and thunder roared and he was fine.  But when the raindrops hit the roof, he came unglued.

I wonder what makes dogs--and people--afraid?  Fear is an awful thing.

My mom was very afraid of tornados.  Probably because a tornado tore down main street of Pryor and killed over fifty people.  Back then we didn't have a warning system, so every black cloud meant we (me, my brother and mom) were going down the street where a neighbor had a cellar.  Everyone gathered there.  My dad and uncle Cleo would stand outside with the rest of the men and watch...and eventually give everyone an "All clear."

I have a scripture that means a lot to me.  "When you lie down, you shalt not be afraid; yea, lie down...and your sleep shall be sweet."  Proverbs 3:24.  I used to be afraid one of my children would quit breathing in the night and kept hopping up and down to check them until I was so exhausted I couldn't stay awake.  I had lost a child to crib-death--she quit breathing.  So when I found that scripture, I took it as my marching orders from God.  He says, "you shalt not be afraid...lie down."  It helped.  Give me a word from God to live by.  I'll do it.

Sunday, my class talked about situational ethics.  We all use situational ethics in our everyday lives, but the topic has gotten a bad rap for Christians.

I used an example: During this time when we are stuck in our homes, communion has been a problem.  My class decided for the seven of us to do the Lord's supper together since we weren't going to church at the time due to the pandemic. (Some churches think we should only do that with the entire church.)

One of the women baked the unleavened bread, one brought grape juice, (Baptists don't do wine for communion) and we read the scriptures saying, "This is my body....this is my blood..."   No problem.

But if Ken's father (my Baptist preacher when I was young) had been there, I would have abstained.  Why?  Because he believed strongly in "Closed Communion."  That subject isn't even discussed any more in our churches.  It is the idea that only those members of that particular church are able to partake communion together.  I just wouldn't offend someone's "rules" belief unless it was on the subject of Christ and what he did for us.  

So we are studying 1 Corinthians 10:27-33.  The Jews thought it was a sin to eat meat sacrificed to idols.  Paul said, "Whatever is set before you, eat, asking no questions...but if someone tells you this was sacrificed to idols, don't..." In other words, don't ask.  "Don't give offense, neither to the Jews, nor to the Gentiles, nor to the church of God. (Christians)."

Paul said that when he was in the company of Jews, he tried to act like a Jew.  When with Gentiles, or Christians he tried not to offend their customs.  In other words: use situational ethics rather than offend a person if you can--without compromising the truth, and your Christian witness or Christian behavior.