My friend Carolyn in Pryor gets Ken-Ken puzzles in the Tulsa paper every day.  My paper only has one on Sunday.  So Carolyn cuts them out for me each day, and when she gets a stack of them she mails them to me or sends them with someone coming this way.  That is love.  It is tedious, boring and tiring to keep track of.  But she does it.

My neighbor across the street lost her husband a year ago and takes care of her mother-in-law.  She says it is the least she can do.  It is a two and a half hour drive to get there and she goes almost every week.  That, too, is love.

Love is a behavior.  Feelings come and go.  Actions are the thing that express our love.

Pat comes when I call her to take me to the doctor.  Becky brings me food two or three times a week.  Jeanette and Jeanine shop at the grocery store.  And deliver!!!  Kathy bakes me yeast rolls and sees that I get them.  Linda makes beans and fried okra every Wednesday for me.

I hope you are on the receiving end of real love this year.  Happy New Year to you and those you love. 

Today is the last day of the year.  Goodby 2021...Welcome 2022.  We are finally having a freezing day today.  There have been multiple records broken for the low temperatures this month.  It has been warm most days.  Many days in the 70’s.  Oklahoma is the new Florida.

The national weather service confirmed the news that “Tornado Alley” has moved to the East.  I hate it for them, but we Okies have had that title my entire life.  I didn’t know it could move.  Good riddance.

When Jon and Jennifer came to get Tate, they brought Brady with them.  He is ten.  Tate is six.  Just enough difference to tussle.  I found out one thing.  I can’t handle two of them.  One at a time.

Which means that this summer, for Bible School, I have to make a choice, or I could send one of them to Pat or Becky.  They are a handful.  Boys.  I’ve had two boys, so I understand that they love to rumble, but I’m too old to deal with it.  One boy--good.  Two boys--nope.  Good kids, but they are boys.  

I raised two girls and two boys.  So I do know a little about the subject.  

I am going to spend the day doing nothing.  That’s my plan.  Say goodby to the old year in style.

God gave children to young folk, and today, I am remembering why.  I raised four of them and don’t know how I did it.  I’m eighty-three now, and Tate--who stayed all night with me--is six.  I’ve played nine or ten games of flip the coin, battleship, and read books in between.

His energy is unlimited.  Mine sags.  But it has been so much fun.  His vocabulary is huge.  He talks without taking a breath because he has so much to say.  And surprisingly, it is all interesting.  Last night I put him to bed and opened the Bible to read him the Lord’s prayer.

I said, “This book is full of the words God wanted us to know.”  Tate said, “He sure had a lot of words to say.”

Jon and Jennifer came over yesterday and hung two picture rails.  They will allow me to change pictures from time to time without nailing them to the wall.  They will sit on the ledge.  They will hang the last rail up when they come back this afternoon to get Tate.  I really like them.  I will be moving pictures around on the ledges all week long I am sure.

Two more days left in 2021.  These last two years have been a blur.  They have gone extremely fast----and extremely slow.

The youngest of my clan, Jonathan, is bringing his wife Jennifer and two boys Brady and Tate today.  Tate is going to stay all night for the first time.  He is excited.  I just wonder how  in the world I am going to keep him entertained.

Jonathan has made me picture rails to set picture frames on.  I am excited.  I can get a dozen or so pictures up without having to nail and level them.

It has been a busy week.  Tonight, I made veggie stew with the left over prime rib.  I made a pan of cornbread and they ate it all.  No leftovers.

Jon’s two boys are younger than some of my great-grandchildren.  Jon was born nine years after I was done (done) having children.  Surprise child.  So he got a late start having children. Tate is in the first grade.  My oldest grandchild is forty in February.  The great-children are in between all that.

Like I have said before, My quiver is full of arrows (as the Bible puts it).

We are almost to a new year.  I know it has to be better.  The last two have been difficult to say the least.  Thank God I didn’t get Covid.

Every Christmas my two daughters outdo themselves.  They put on a feast.  Becky on Christmas eve night and Pat on Christmas day brunch.  And I bet all of us gained ten pounds.  Which is fine, because sometimes it is worth it.  I’ll pull a Scarlett and think about that tomorrow.  If you don’t know what a Scarlett is, you need to read,  “Gone with the Wind.”

Pat sent creamed-corn soup with shrimp home with me, so that takes care of lunch tomorrow.  Becky sent home a biscuit gravy diced egg dish that takes care of breakfast in the morning.  I bet I can come up with something for supper.  Everyone is really good to take care of food for me.

My freezer is stuffed with leftovers from all of their largesse, and when I take something out of the freezer, it is called Surprise-a-meal.  I don’t write anything on the containers, so I never know what I am going to be eating.  Which is okay.  I’ll eat anything I don’t have to cook.

My sister Lisa’s son Thomas--and his wife Megan--are having their first baby this week.  A boy.  Lisa has flown to Florida to be there, but babies come when they are ready. I am already a great-aunt twice with my brother’s two boys.  It’s time to have some girls.

But a last minute December tax-exemption will be okay, too.

Merry Christmas....I will post again on Monday.  May Christ reign in your heart.

I’m having trouble with new words because I can’t see the thing they stand for.  Words like “Streaming,” and “Bluetooth.” Every time a new word comes out about my phone or TV or computer, I can’t figure out what the word means.  When I was growing up, words represented things. Or emotions, or ideas.  Now they stand for invisible occurrences that you use in some capacity.

Pod cast.  What does that mean?  It sounds like pea pod shells you threw away and cast out.  I am always going to be a day late and a dollar short about what these words mean.

And letters.  Nobody uses the entire words for things.  They are identified by letters.  Scotus, etc.  Someone asked me if I had tried CBD for my pain.  “What’s CBD?” I asked.  “You know...weed,” they answered.  I said, “No, I grow tomatoes.  I throw the weeds out.

Someone trying to learn the language of America for the first time wouldn’t understand if you said you were, “Behind the eight ball.’  Or “That’s so funny I’m in stitches.”  It’s hard enough learning English without all the letters and funny names for things.  

I can’t keep up with it.  Technology is moving faster than I can think.

Passwords are driving me crazy.  I used to go into the bank and was identified by my face.  No more.  I’ve lost that identity.  Now I have to have a password.  Even through they know me!   And just about the time I learn it, they make me change it. 

You know you are over the hill when you finally can’t think up any more passwords that you can remember.  So you have to write them down and find a place to put them so that nobody else can find them.  And then, of course, you forget where you put them.  

Eventually, I am going to be locked out of everything that I own.  I think I need to put my assets in a Folger’s can and bury them in a post hole like they did in the old west days.  I bet there is a fortune out there in post holes.  But since all the good land that used to be farms with fences has been covered up with housing developments, who knows where the post holes used to be?

People who developed the west built on the good land, and eventually covered the good land with towns and cities.  Small farms are a thing of the past because of the cost of equipment.  They can only exist in a small perimeter.  Support your local small farmers!

Well, it sounds like we are in for another round of Covid.  Eventually, I think we will find out that it is with us forever.  You will either get the vaccination, or get Covid.  Or both.  It’s rather depressing.

I am finally realizing that my life has changed and I am in the condition that I am in, and they can't fix me.  You can’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again.  I can live with that, but every time you give up a part of your body, you grieve--because you can’t get it back.  Then, if you are a realist like me, you adjust to whatever it is and keep on keeping on.  

That’s what growing old is all about.  Giving things up and going on.  This year for the first time, I didn’t put up a single Christmas decoration.  Because if I put them up, I would have to take them back down and pack them away--and no one will be at my house but me anyway.

I bought a rib roast for ten people for Christmas Eve.  We will go to Becky’s house, not mine.  I've had to give up cooking for a crowd which I have done all of my life.  The interesting thing is that when you give up things you’ve always done, it’s not too bad.  In some ways it is a relief.  You’ve had a life pattern that ran you “ragged” and you don’t have to do it any more!!  I am in the same place Paul was: In whatever condition I am, therewith to be content.  I am truly content.  I write, and someone out there is reading it.  That is a wonderful feeling.  I have a purpose.

God created man for a reason that was different from the other forms of life.  Man was created as a communicator with God himself.  God breathed into man the breath of life.  His holy Spirit.  

 

We were created “In His Image.”  God didn’t want a robot.  He gave us the gift of choice.  He chose us...but we are free to choose him as well--or not.

It is a wonderful thing to be chosen.  When Ken asked me to marry him, he would fly back and forth every weekend from Pensacola--where he was teaching pilots to hook wire on a carrier.  He would ask me to marry him, I would say no, and he would do the same thing all over again the next weekend.  He chose me.  That is the most wonderful thing in the world--to be chosen.  I finally said yes.  Best decision I ever made.  57 years of wonderful.

God chose us.  But He did not make the relationship automatic.  We must choose him back.  He gave us choice.  A relationship must be two-way for it to endure.  The Old Testament is the story of God’s desire to put his Holy Spirit--the breath of God--back into man.  It took a sacrifice for our rebellion. God’s only Son.  When we choose God’s gift, we once again become whole.  In his image.  

 

I felt that the way the Bible story of creation was being taught was from a “You just have to have faith that it is true,” position.  Which was limp and wimpy.  And not necessary.

I decided to really read what it said, and found that it was exactly scientifically true.  Three words are used.  Create, make, and let.  If you understand those words, the first chapter of Genesis reads perfectly.  

 

Create: Take absolutely nothing and design a perfect thing.

Let:  Allow something to occur.  “Let me get that for you, or let me out at the corner.

Make: Take something that already exists and “make” a different thing. Use cloth, scissors, thread, etc., and make a dress.

The word “create” is only used three times in Genesis chapter 1.  God created the heavens and earth.  He created great behemoths (mammals).  And man.  everything else was making and letting--or allowing to happen.

Only the first verse deals with creation of the earth.  All of the other verses are about reconstruction of a “void, dark, formless mess found in verse 2.  The dinosaurs died, but water life continued as it always had.  Then 66 million years later, God got back into the creation business.

Once you read the first verse of Genesis and agree that a creative work is a perfect work, you can’t read verse two and say that a void, dark, formless blob is a perfect work.  Something did happen.  I wish God had told us about the years between those two verses, but He didn’t.  What he tells us in the following verses is how he reconstructs the earth, not how he created it.  He’s already done with creating the earth and heavens.

The earth is not 6000 years old--as some religious groups claim.  It is millions of years old. The master Scientist--God himself--put the laws of the universe into play, and carbon decay rate is one of those laws.  All living things are made of carbon and when they die, they decompose with what is called a rate of decay.  You can mark time by it.  God invented it--just like he invented every other scientific law.

Water existed in verse two that had been created in verse one...”God moved on the face of the deep.”  And life in the water continued living undisturbed.  Land life died out at the exact time an asteroid hit the Yucatann sulfur deposits, shook the globe and darkened the skies with smoke as sulfur burned.  (The earth was dark...)  Plant life died because the food chain disintegrated.   Land life died, but water life didn’t. 

That’s why evolution theorists try to prove that we evolved from the things in the water.  Life on earth disappeared between Genesis 1 and 2 and there is almost nothing in strata after that.  Nada.  Nothing.  No evolving life forms.  And then....life reappears, seemingly bursting out of nowhere after 66 million years.  Skip to verse 21 to see where God begins to create again. 

 Every day, when I open my Mac to post, I wonder what I am going to have to say.  After over 2000 posts, I’m running out of stuff.  But some of you joined late, so I guess I could repeat myself.  I don’t think any of you would remember what I wrote five years ago anyway.

I started out because I wanted to get the word out there that the first chapter of Genesis was scientifically accurate.  It still is.  As long as you recognize that dinosaurs existed and that they have to fit into the Biblical account somewhere.

We only have two records of those times.  The Biblical account, and the strata remains in the earth. (Bones, leaves, etc. laid down  year after year in layers of dirt--strata.)  Strata also exists in the ice cores at the poles.  Dust, volcanic ash, etc. laid down in yearly layers of ice.

They  have huge warehouses of ice cores at the pole to be used by scientists who study strata.  Watch Nova.  Anyway, dinosaurs existed and went extinct 66 million years ago all at once.  And strata holds no fossils after that.  No evolution data.  Verse one of Genesis says God created two things, the heavens and the earth.  Verse two says the earth was a void, dark, formless mass.  Not very pretty.  Something happened between those two verses to destroy His creation.

Today, I am going to Hideaway Pizza to restore my pizza slices that I eat for breakfast.  I order three pizzas, fruit, and slice them into eighteen pieces.  If you haven’t eaten their mushroom appetizer, you’ve missed one of the best things ever. 

Pat brought a horse with her and parked the trailer in the street, so we can’t be gone long.  His name is Rudy, and he comes every Monday to the vet so Pat and I go somewhere for lunch.  Pat has been dragging a horse trailer around for most of her life. 

She bought and sold horses for the YMCA out of Tulsa for years.  She ran their camp Takatoka (out by Wagoner) every summer when she wasn’t teaching school.  And found families to take the horses to board over the winter--getting the horses to them and going back to get them in June.  They did week long camps for the deaf and also blind children in addition to the other week long camps. 

She just got back from upper Illinois where a vet friend lives.  She drug two horses with her up there and back.  She does love horses.

With Ken it was planes.  With Pat it has always been horses.  I don’t particularly care for either one.  But I will fly.  And occasionally, when I am at Pat’s, I do get on a horse.

Personally, I like my dog.  All the people in my family have strange habits of transportation.

I think I’m going to live.  Antibiotics  are doing their job.  I’m going to see how I feel at 11:00 and if I can, go get my hair done.  If not, I’ll look like a witch for another week.  I haven’t been out anywhere for a week unless someone drove me--and then only to the ER.  I think getting my hair done would be a good picker-upper.  

. 

The cleaning ladies are here...praise the Lord.  It has been six weeks since they came last.  Thanksgiving, sickness, etc.  I spilled the paper shredder junk on the floor when I tried to empty it--and just left shredded paper all over the floor.  I looked at it a couple of times, but decided it was doing no harm and left it.  It wasn’t in a pathway.  That’s how weak I was.  

I haven’t picked at the cuticle skin on my nails.  Never again.  I am a new creature.  Repentant.  Reformed. You can quit a bad habit if you are motivated--and brother! am I motivated.  I don’t ever want to be this sick again.   I would think to myself: “I’m just going to pull this little fragment of skin--but sometimes it would bleed.  Most of the time I got away with it.  But last week, I didn’t.  I got a wake up call.  Pat said it was a suicidal habit.  I have decided to agree with her.  At least it is for me because I have lymphedema in that arm and any cut, or opening in the skin is a danger.  Like I said.  I’ve repented.  

I’m going to live.  It was a toss up for awhile.  Sepsis.  I have repented from pulling the dead cuticle skin off from around my fingernails. sometimes I pull too hard and it bleeds.  And that is how bacteria get into my right arm.  I have lymphedema in that arm and the lymph can’t drain out and infection begins to build up....

My suggestion is to not get breast cancer, or chemotherapy, or radiation and then you won’t get lymphedema.  But if you do, don’t pick at your nails.  I’ve repented.  I don’t ever want to go through this again.  I’ve been hospitalized 6 times with it and had home treatment twice.  You would think I would have learned by now.  I’m finally convinced that I have to do something drastic or it’s going to deep-six me.

If you get breast cancer and it has spread to your lymph nodes, they have to take the nodes out along with the cancer.  Without nodes in your shoulder and arm, you can’t drain lymph--and that is the clean-up system of the body.   The good thing is, I lived.  One in four American women will get breast cancer.  That’s outrageous.  

Now that is a pandemic.  If it was about men, I bet it would get solved.  Oops, what did I just say.  Sexism in print.  I bet I hear from some of the guys.

 

Yesterday was a toss up.  Today, I think I’m going to make it.  Infusion antibiotics did the trick.  My right arm still looks like a red balloon, but I can stand up without fainting.  Yea!  

I thought I could pull a little piece of skin off one of my fingers--with my teeth instead of clipping it--it tore the skin.  Nope.  I won’t do that again.  They have warned me a zillion times against a puncture to my right hand or arm.  I just forget in the moment.  I’m not going to forget again.  I’ve learned my lesson. 

Being good is hard.  There are too many ways to fail.  I detest the stop sign at the end of my street.  It has no purpose.  I don’t want to stop there.  But the law says stop.  It’s one of those “Am I going to be good, or am I going to “kinda” stop.  Good is my goal.  Being good is an effort.

I have to go back to see the doctor at 11:00 today, so she can decide whether I have to go into the hospital and stay there until this arm clears up.  Pat stayed all night with me, she is very compassionate.  She will drive me.  I’m still not steady on my feet.  It is a blessing to be able to call on her when I need someone.  Becky would come as well.  And I have wonderful neighbors and friends.

I detest being sick.

I would swear dad told me about Belle Starr.  But no, even though my brother and I both remember that, it couldn’t be true.  She died before dad was born.  It must have been the Dalton brothers.  I wish I had written everything down.  It was probably his dad that knew Belle.  I know they fed her from the cafe.

I spent all morning in the emergency room.  I have lymphedema in my right arm from the chemo and radiation I had years ago.  My arm goes septic from time to time. It’s a blood infection that spreads.  It was so tiring--and took too much time.  I’m running a fever And of course, the worst part was the bed they put me on.  It like to killed my back.  

Used to be you went to the doctor, he asked, “What’s wrong?” You told him and he gave you medicine.  Now, all of the medical people are trying not to get sued.  And it takes forever to get in and out with all the paper work.

I think we may have too many lawyers.  They need cases.  And there aren’t enough cases to go around.  Medical suits are lucrative.

Anyway, I’m really sick.  My arm is bright red, hot, and the infection is spreading.  I’ve been hospitalized for this 7 times.   Today they gave me a drip antibiotic and finally let me go home, but I have to go back in tomorrow.  Some day, I think that this is going to get me.

    When outlaws in Arkansas tried to escape the famous “Hanging Judge,” they would cross the Arkansas River into Oklahoma and sometimes end up in Wilburton--which was in Southeast Oklahoma just across the river.  

    In the early 1900’s my grandmother opened a cafe there, and my dad killed hogs, chopped wood, ran the kitchen, and did about everything else to keep the place running.

    His father had been murdered when he was seven years old, and of his six brothers, only he and one other brother (who was ill) were left at home.  One brother died of appendicitis and another in the 1918 flu epidemic.  

    Outside Wilburton, there are caves.  They call them Robbers Caves.  And they were a refuge for criminals back then--who were running from the law.  My dad delivered food to them from the cafe.  Belle Starr, Pretty Boy Floyd and a number of other outlaws knew my dad well.  He was just a kid and no threat, and there was really no choice about delivering food.  You had to stay on the right side of the wrong side or end up dead.

    I don’t know how my dad escaped all of the things that happened to him, but he did.  He was a wonderful Christian man, a deacon in our church for over fifty years.  Three brothers died, and his oldest two brothers were bootleggers.  Go figure.  When he started telling stories about his past, everybody sat down and listened. He was part of the original Oklahoma Territory story.  He was a legend.  He was a gentle Godly man.  It is a privilege to be his daughter.

If any of you out there are also writers, you know that most of what you do is edit.  And you can’t edit while you are writing.  You have to wait for some time to pass, and go back and read it fresh.

I know what I am saying when I write something, but reading it again lets me read it as an outside observer.  And sometimes I didn’t say what I wanted to say at all.

All that aside, I have been writing a pamphlet for Christian parents to be able to understand decay rates, strata, carbon dating etc. so that they can be confident that the creation story in Genesis is scientifically accurate--which it is.  I don’t expect the average person to know about that stuff, but have tried to simplify it to explain that what the Bible says is true.  Not a fable.

Editing it has been going on for months and months.  I write. put it down.  Forget about it.  Reread it again.  Edit, and go through the process again.  It takes a lot of time.  And patience--which I have shared with you that I don’t have very much of. (You aren’t supposed to end a sentence with the word “of.”)  Yes, I edit what I blog before I post.  Sometimes I catch my mistakes, sometimes I don’t.  But I have the best editor in the world.  My friend Carolyn patiently listens to what I write and gets me going in the right direction.  She is an excellent editor.

My cousin Ann picks me up on Friday morning and we go eat breakfast and garage sale.  I never buy anything, but I do try and find things for here that are brand new and unused for her “You did very good” basket.  Trinkets and toys.

She teaches piano (She is an OU music major extraordinaire’) and has a basket on the floor by the piano filled with goodies for those piano students who did what they were assigned to do--to pick something.  The kids love it

I was over at her house the other day when she was finishing up with a student and I can’t describe how patient she was with him.  It would have driven me crazy.  One note at a time, one missed a note at a time, replay a note over and over again...for thirty minutes.  She was saying, “Good...good”  I would have been saying “You’re time is up.”

I do admire gifts in others that I don’t have.  And patience is one of those gifts that I didn’t get very much of.

If I was a piano teacher--I do play the piano--I would keep a bottle of aspirin on the piano.  God bless piano teachers.

Not only did I forget to post yesterday--as my close friends advised me--I didn’t get much of anything else done either.   I did go to lunch with my friends.  And Squig got a bath and a haircut.

My cleaning ladies haven’t been here in four weeks.  I don’t know how clean you are, but my idea of clean has deteriorated.  The girls called and said they couldn’t be here for two more weeks.  I’ve reached my limit and can’t do anything about it.  The holidays have messed up their schedules.  My house needs cleaning in an extreme way. 

As you age, the way you spend money changes.  I can’t vacuum anymore, much less move anything to clean under it.  And doing my hair is impossible because holding my hands in the air to fix it is too tiring.  I’ve re-thought how I spend.  Certain luxuries are now necessities.

It’s okay.  You just have to learn how to do a different budget.  And as frugal as I have always been it is hard.  I never paid for anything I could do myself.  Yard work, gardening etc.  I keep saying to myself that to move somewhere that everything is done for you would cost a fortune.  I don’t want everything done for me.  Just vacuuming and my hair.  Becky and Craig said they would come change my sheets when I need it.  There!  That’s it.  That’s all I need help with.  Jeaninne, across the street, has my credit card and buys what I need when she goes to the grocery store.  Look around you.  There may be an older person that needs a light bulb changed.  They all need something done.

 

 Pat took me for coffee and sweet rolls this morning and we were talking about the things that members of our family have done.  I told her that I missed playing my marimba.  The pandemic shut that down.

I have two marimbas.  I keep one broken down in the trunk of my car ready to go.  Another is in the family room and I play it every time I get up and let the dog out the back door.  I used to play all the time.  She said that I played for her wedding!  I had forgotten that.  She said she asked me to play “Bless This House.”  That was an appropriate choice!

I played “When They Ring those Golden Bells” for Ken’s father’s funeral.  And “Amazing Grace” for at least a dozen others.  Used to play for Rotary Club, Methodist men’s meetings, etc. at least once a month.  I’ve been doing that for since I was fifteen.

My hands aren’t as nimble as they used to be.  I remember playing “Flight of the Bumble Bee” for some civic group once.  Two mallets--which is harder than playing with four.  You are all over the keyboard with two.

Now, I do hymns.  Three or four mallets.  Slow.  For some reason, God has spared my hands and fingers from arthritis.  I am thankful.  I can still do something useful with my hands.  Play the marimba and type.  Praise God.  It is good to be able to do something that other people like.

I have never understood Black Friday.  It is insane--like fish swarming to a spawning area.  What could I possibly need bad enough to get out there and get run down by a mob.  I don’t get it.  Just to save money on something I probably don’t need anyway??  But I know some people love it.  I must be a mutant.

My friend Sue Rucker just got the Texas constitution changed.  That is a huge--HUGE--accomplishment.  Her husband Fred had a stroke in 2020, had to be placed in a care facility, and the government said she couldn’t go in and be with him.  Yes, that’s what I said--the Government.  Same as the Nazi’s did when they separated families to go to their deaths.

Fred was there a year.  Sue could only put her hand on a window to see him and talk on their phones. There was no loving comfort for the suffering Fred endured.  For a year, he lay there.  The unvaccinated attendants could go in, the plumber, repairmen, but not Sue.  Fred died after a year and a half--without any family by his side.  And this happened over and over again all over America.  Families were separated from their “Incarcerated” loved ones by government edict.  It will never happen again in Texas.  Sue joined with forty others, got enough signatures on a petition, and passed not only a law, but a constitutional rewrite.  It will never happen again in Texas.  It should never happen again in America anywhere.  Write your congressman.

Have a blessed day.  We lift our hearts for the things God has given us and pray for peace in the world.

Instead of complaining about the things that are wrong in our lives--and there are many things wrong--let us praise Him for the things that are right.

We are blessed like no other nation or people on earth.

I don’t think I’ve told you about when the Klan came and got my mother?  She was about thirteen years old.  There was a knock at her parent’s door and when her father opened it, there were a few white-hooded Klan’s men at the door.

“We want Margie Swan,” they told him.  They were all frightened, but my mother said, “I’ll go.”  And she did.  Her parents were terrified.

They took her to a wooded area where hundreds of other hooded men were gathered and set her up on a ledge.  Two of her friends were there on the ledge as well.  

The head of the Klan told the girls, “Sing.”  The girls were part of a group that was known in the area for their musical skills, so they sang.  They were the evening’s entertainment.

“I wasn’t scared,” my mother said.  (Those of you who knew my mom would understand that!) “Until they took their hoods off--then I was scared.  I knew these men from town, businesses, church.  I was shocked that they were Klan’s men.  And it was frightening that they were involved in something like that.  But the worst was that they knew--that I now knew--who they were.  And they knew who I was. My feeling of being safe in my home was never the same after that.”  

I actually accomplished something yesterday.  You know those funny things that are in Reader’s Digest...I thought why not send one in.  So I did.  This is what I wrote:

When I was teaching my granddaughter her address, I asked her what town she lived in.  She said, "Miami.”  Then I asked her what town I lived in and she said, “Grammies ami.”  The slow of wit won’t get it probably, but I thought it was funny.

After I stopped laughing, I asked her where her mother lived, and as expected by that point she said, “Mommies ami.”

I have no idea what she thought an ami was.

Pat is on her way to get me to go get a sweet roll and coffee.  My car is in the shop.  I gave my other car away to my grandson and now I need it.  However Craig brought me one of theirs.  I just don’t want to drive it because all the switches and buttons are in the wrong place.  It would take me fifteen minutes to get it out of the driveway.

I got all of the dressing ingredients cooked.  Now all I have to do is put them together.  Ken always tasted it at that point to tell me if I had the right amount of spices.  Now, it’s a toss up.

Sunday, because it is Thanksgiving week, we quit the story of Abraham right smack dab in the middle and looked at the one-hundredth Psalm.  Which presents itself as a song of Praise and Thanksgiving.  

I was thinking, “How am I going to fill forty-five minutes with five verses.  (It is a very short Psalm.)  However, in reading it, I found that only one verse, the last one, is about praise.  The body of it is instructional.  And since I am an application teacher, it gave me something to teach.

Here’s how it goes:

1. Make a joyful noise (everybody)  2. Serve the Lord with Gladness.        3. Come before his presence with singing. 4. Know that the Lord, he is God.   5.  Acknowledge that he has made us, we haven’t made ourselves.  6. He is our Shepherd, we are his sheep--stop trying to lead, let him lead. 7. Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise.  8. Be thankful to him. 9. Bless His name.

I guess if we got all of those things done that we are instructed to do, we could say that we were on the right path.  Basically they are joyful things.  So we need to concentrate on who God is, not on what we want him to do. ACTS: Adore, Confess, Thank, then....Supplicate (ask). 

The last verse is praise.  “For the Lord is good, his mercy is everlasting, and his truth endures to all generations.”  Just think how many generations that the truth of the written word has endured.  Bibles are everywhere in the world.  The problem is getting people to actually read them.  Read!!

I am going to take today off.  Have a good day!!

My friend Sally called this morning.  It made my day.  She is such an uplifting person.  By the time she hung up, I was laughing.

Becky brought me so much food this week, I won’t have to go out to eat for a month.  I divided it, wrapped portions and froze them.

As for going out to eat...Tuesdays are Kentucky Fried Chicken days.  When I got there, they were closed and I had to drive ten miles west to find another one because I had my mind set on fried chicken. And of course, on the way there, the light saying I needed gas flicked on.  Now, I am fifteen miles from the gas station and that’s when the suspension on my car went south.   I think I will give up on chicken for awhile.

Craig got an appointment for my car to be fixed next Tuesday and he said he will give me a car to drive while they are fixing it.

People.  They are the lights that brighten our days. And get us through the bad moments.  You need positive people in your life.  Avoid the ones who are negative and hurtful.  You will get enough of that by accident.

I got my fried chicken and the lady who handed it to me said, “God bless you!” 

My perm didn’t take.   Straight as a string this morning.  Hairdresser said to come in at three and she would see what was going on.  Bummer.

I got to hold my new great-grandson last night for thirty minutes.  He is the prettiest baby.  Doesn’t look like a new-born at all.  Calm, doesn’t seem to be bothered by noise.  Why didn’t I have babies like that?

Craig said there was legislation going on to promote diversity in the Marine Corps.  The Corps has always been diverse--when you join.  Then they use boot camp to make you stop thinking as an individual and think as a group.  A Marine will die for the Marine next to them.  They are a true band of brothers.  Count on our government to mess up something that works. Ken said that nobody fights for their country (it sounds patriotic) when the attack begins, they fight for the guy next to them.

Ken’s bunk mate at flight school was Frank Peterson.   First black man to go to flight school after WW2.  They flew together and remained friends for life.  Scott called Frank, told him he was Ken’s son and got Frank to come to Bartlesville to speak.  Frank was the first black aviator to make General in the USMC.  He went to flight school in the early fifties--followed by many others. And held in high esteem by all.  Marines are Marines.  They don’t care if you are polka-dotted as long as you are in the trench or air beside them.  But count on our government to mess up something they need to leave alone.  We have many races in the Marines who are Generals now.  Let them lead.  They know how to do it and it isn’t by listening to one individual who thinks he is being picked on. He needs to be sent back to boot camp. 

Spent the morning at the hairdressers getting a cut and perm.  I no longer look like a shaggy dog.  Jennifer (Becky’s sons wife) is going to bring the baby over for me to hold. They named him Ken Jack Johnston.  What a tribute to Ken Jacks. 

Jeannine brought me brown beans.  Becky and Craig brought me enchiladas and something I don’t know what it is but it looks good and smells delicious.  I have enough food to get me through the week.  Thank God for people who help people like me--who need a little of their help.  

Pat told me I was living on junk food, which is true except when people have mercy on me.  Pat also said she wasn’t going to get on my case because I am a grown woman and know better.  That’s good.  I go to Kentucky Fried and eat a thigh and leg once a week.  And Brahms hamburgers once a week.  I like their hamburgers because they put extra lettuce and tomatoes on for me.  No cheese.  Ever.  All the burger places use American cheese instead of the real stuff.  It tastes like melted glue.

I wrote about Abraham yesterday.  You would think by the time he had a child by Sarah’s maid he would have figured out that God’s plan was better than his or Sarah’s.  But no.  They moved again and he told the ruler of the next place they went  that Sarah was his sister.  He keeps repeating things that didn’t work the last time he did them.  Doing the same thing expecting a different outcome.  And God keeps loving him and trying to give him direction.

Abraham is going to get it right in the end.  It just takes him a little bit of time to get there.  Sounds like someone I know.  Sounds like a lot of people I know.  Sounds like me, too.

 Abraham is a study in human behavior.  He packs his family up and leaves his home in Ur.  However, God says for him to leave his family behind.  But Abraham allows Lot and his people to come with him.  He obeyed, but disobeyed in the process.

Then there is a famine and Abraham takes everyone to Egypt--and lies to Pharaoh--telling him that Sarah is his sister.  So Pharaoh takes Sarah for his wife.  And plagues beset all of Egypt, punishment for all the innocent people for something that was Abraham’s fault.  Pharaoh didn’t know he was doing something wrong.  Neither did the people.

Then, since God was slow in fulfilling his promise to Abraham that Sarah would have his child, he takes Sarah’s maid Hagar--at Sarah’s suggestion--and impregnates her.  Producing Ishmael--the father of the Arab nations.  Another problem--for all of us today.  All from disobedience.  Putting the Ishmaelites--Arabs--against the Jews forever.

Flawed people.  But God loved them.  It gives us hope.  We too, are flawed.  And God continues to love us.  

It is a good thing because we don’t seem to fulfill what He has in mind for us.  But we need to continue our journey toward obedience to God.  It is by far the best path.  And comes with his blessing.

It’s Friday again!!  I don’t know where the week goes.  Ann will come get me, we will go to breakfast, then to garage sales, I’ll get my hair done and it will be noon before I get to do my crossword.

Craig, Becky’s husband told me that there is a new publisher who has opened in Edmond.  I’m chasing rainbows at this point trying to find a publisher that will take the second book I’ve written.  Pat tells me that it was an act of God to get a publisher on my first try.

I’m not giving up.   The story of Ken’s time in Korea is worth printing, and the story of my brother’s time in China is just as important.

I’m just an observer.  There are people who did things that were heroic, and people who write about what they did.  Neither of those two men would have ever thought of writing their stories.  I’m just the writer who knows what they did.  

I could self-publish, but then you don’t get the advertising, and most important the libraries.  But it may come to that. The money is negligible unless it is a big hit.  Self publishing--you pay them.  Traditional publishing--they buy the book.  That’s what happened to my first book.  They bought it.  I guess is was a miracle for a first timer.

Thanksgiving is coming.  I said I would never make dressing again, but I am repenting and going to do it again.  Chopping celery, onions, making cornbread.  I can do it ahead of time and bake it on Thanksgiving day.

I went to a veteran’s celebration at my church for lunch.  When they asked Marines to stand, I stood up for Ken.  He deserves to be remembered even though he has gone to guard the skies of heaven.  Probably buzzing the gates in an A-4 or an F-9.

I finally returned to see the back pain guy.  He brought my back film up for me to look at, and told me it wasn’t good.  I looked at the film--and since I’ve dissected and taken anatomy classes--I realized that what I’ve got is what I’ve got.  It isn’t pretty.  So.  That’s that.  Surgery won’t help.  Bones are old and worn out, crooked and a mess.  Solution to the problem:  Don’t get old.  It helps to know--because I can quit looking for a cure and start living with what I’ve got to live with.  I’ll figure that out. 

My son Scott tore up his knee and shoulder playing baseball.  He hurts all the time.  If he can do it, I can too. And Scott and Ken are the two toughest people I’ve ever known.

God is good.  He never gives us more that we can manage.  It really makes the idea of getting a new body when we get to heaven an attractive concept.  And when we get our heavenly body, it worn’t wear out.  Just think!!! Eternity with no war, no sinful people, no people who lie to you, no sickness, no pain. There was an old song that said, “There’s a great day comin’ bye and bye!”  And bye and bye is getting closer and closer.

It is Wednesday again.  Bean day for the Kerleys that used to live next door.  They are a mile or so away now, but we still do “Bean day.”  I usually make the cornbread and greens and she does the beans and fried okra.  It is such a help for people like me who live alone--when someone helps with dinner.  Red beans, white beans, brown beans or lima beans. Take a plate to someone who lives alone.  It means a lot.

Jennifer, my granddaughter-in-law across the street who bought the house I used to live in, texted that the baby will be here Friday if he doesn’t come sooner.  That will make eight great-grand babies for me.  I can’t remember everyone’s birthday there are so many.  Ten grand children as well as children and all their spouses as well.

Like I said, a bunch of people that I didn’t know when I married Ken sixty five years ago.

I can't believe it is November.  These last two years have evaporated.  I hope we never see another one like 2020.  What an awful experience.  And some of the people I used to see at church never came back.  Broken habits are hard to renew.  I’m teaching my class and going to church again, and going to Wednesday night teacher’s meetings, but that’s it.  I seldom see anyone else that goes to my church.  Being single is very single!! 

I actually accomplished a lot yesterday.  You know those pieces of mail that ask for money--and always get doubled up around Christmas.  Normally I throw them out all year and pick the ones I help out in November.  They could save a lot of postage by mailing me their information once.  Once.  In November.

I got the ones I support taken care of and cleared half the paper on the floor.  The donations are in the mail.  That’s done for the year.  So many of them are fake.  They just rip people off and don’t help anyone.  You can find the % of your donation on line that actually goes to what they advertise.  It’s worth a look. 

We all want to help legitimate charities.  I make sure the ones I help don’t fund the founder!  Some of them are rip-offs. Some are true blessings.

And this time of year is when I try to help the Lottie Moon offering.  For missionaries who need special equipment or supplies.  Bicycles, tents, post-hole diggers and a million other things that aren’t normal supplies.  Our church sets aside a percentage for this once a year, but I like to give it independently so it is added to what the church does.  Having a brother who spent 37 years in China as a missionary let me know just what they go through to get what they need.

This time of year is when we think about these things.

I had three things I had to do today, and I had them all done by ten in the morning.  Now...what do you do with the rest of the day?  I had my personal shopper (Ha! It is my friend Jeanette) get me a card organizer on Amazon, so I went to her house and got all my cards organized.  

I had been having to go through all of the cards every time I was looking for a particular card.  True to my disorganized nature about small things, they were all in one place stacked together.  Much like the paper that comes into the house.  Totally disorganized.

Paper is my downfall.  I throw most of the mail out--unopened.  The rest I lay on the floor next to my chair to deal with later, so there is always a rat’s nest next to my chair.  Since I have been having back problems, I have spent a lot of time in the chair surrounded by paper.

My intentions are good, but being a procrastinator hasn’t helped.  I do try to get the bills paid the minute they come in.  That’s about it.  I throw out the Oklahoma paper except for the crossword and puzzles.  No point in reading much that is in it.  It’s yesterday’s news.  However, sometimes there are local events and happenings that are interesting.  The sports section goes in the trash unopened.  I’m not an athlete, and if my children hadn’t been so involved in athletics, I wouldn’t have known anything about any type of thing like that.  I read.  I guess I would be considered a nerd.

Thanksgiving is coming.  It is the one day in the year that all of my people get together--and find out who is in the family.  Last time I counted, there were 46 or 47 of them.  Little did Ken and I know what was in the future when we got married.  I passed by a picture of us taken at our wedding the other day and thought, “Girl, (18 years old and laughing) you have no idea what it coming in the next 57 years.

We were cutting the wedding cake with his sword, his hand is over mine.  It is a priceless picture.  And this year would have been our 65th year if Ken was still with me.  

I moved to California four times, Virginia twice, Oklahoma every time he went overseas--which was a regular occurrence. South  Carolina, Pensacola Florida.  He would come home and get to be the good guy, spoil the kids and leave again.  

When he retired, he had some sort of idea that he was in charge.  I handed him the check book and said, “Go for it.”  He gave it all back in two months and said, “I don’t know how you did it all.”  Truth is, I don’t know either.  I guess we just both did what we had to do and got it done.  The country owes him a debt of gratitude.  But I always think that when they ask veterans  to stand on November 11 in our church, they ought to ask their children to stand as well.  They also served.

 All my potted plants are inside for the winter.  April is coming.  I will try to plant okra again.  Planted it two times this year and rabbits ate all of it both times.  I’m thinking about putting clear glass canning jars over each plant and giving that a try next year.

Today is my friend Jeanette’s birthday.  I’m going to take her to lunch.  She usually drives and says, “I’m driving Miss Daisy.”

Teacher’s meeting last night was (once again) a hoot.  I always go with my questions ready because everyone who is there is a pretty good student of scripture.  Problem is, I ask questions and everyone looks at me like I’m nuts.  I’m the only woman in the room, and I guess I have different questions than men do.  And that’s when the fun begins.  I seldom get an answer to my questions.  

Very little of what is discussed in Wednesdays teacher’s meeting makes it into the lesson on Sunday. Background information for the most part.  The men always want to discuss where Abraham is during the conversion of the week.  They bring maps.  I don’t ever use a map. I just want to know what Abraham is thinking.  God speaks to him.  I want to know how.  The Bible doesn’t say how God spoke except once--in a vision.  They wanted to determine the moment when Abraham was “Saved.”  I felt like when he listened to God and packed up to go to Canaan was an important moment.  He didn’t know where he was going, but he trusted God. None of them agreed.  Interesting conversation.

Lisa, my sister, got back from a week in Italy (her daughter lives there while her husband is stationed with the military) and found out that her dog--a small schnauzer--was missing.  They live in an area with coyotes and such types of wild animals.  Of course she is heart broken.  It doesn’t look good.  

Squig hasn’t felt well today.  He is shaking all over.  We will go to the vet tomorrow to see what is going on.  Carolyn’s (Pryor friend) dog Pablo has been sick as well. He has Pancreatitus. (That is spelled wrong?) She lives alone also.  Pablo is her world. 

I spend more on Squig than I do on myself.  After your children are grown, your dog becomes your best friend.

I have been reading Genesis, the 12th chapter on, about Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Joseph and his brothers--and all of the others.  I don’t know when I read it last.  It’s been a while.  They were people like us.  Flawed.  The Bible shows people as they are--good and bad. 

God keeps loving them.  It gives us hope.

Well, I got my booster today.  Haven’t had a reaction to any of it.  First one last January. Second in February.  Doin’ what I can to put the book of Proverbs to work.  “Get wisdom, and with your getting, get understanding.”  Having a pre-med degree helps understand it and make a choice....  

My brother, Dr. Swan, said “Get the shot.”  He’s smart as a whip; he saved my life when I was 34 years old.  Seven different doctors told me that what I was telling them was all in my head. There was nothing wrong with me.  Bill listened.  I had a tumor in my heart that was killing me.  Couldn’t get oxygen to the old noggin.  Nobody had ever had that before.  I was a world first recorded case.   I trust my brother.

I had measles before the measles shot was available and almost died.  I was three years old, and I remember the room, the house, and the quilts my mom hung to block out the light so the light wouldn’t hurt my eyes.  If a shot kills me, so be it.  But with a year behind me with no after-effects, I’m good.  I remember polio...we didn’t wait to see how that one was going to turn out either.  One of my classmates was permanently crippled.   Now, polio is eradicated in America. 

So get the shot---or don’t get the shot.  I’m just telling you what I did.  I have never been one of those people who say, “It’s in the hands of God.”  If that was true , he wouldn’t have given us so many Biblical instructions in the book of Proverbs to help us make choices.  I call Proverbs “The book of buts.”  If you do this, this will happen BUT, if you do that, that is what will happen.  Verse after verse with a “but” in the middle.  Wisdom book.

 

 My sweet friend in Pryor, Amy Smith, writes notes of encouragement to people. (I think mostly older people?)  She has been sending me notes for years.  Her children have grown up--since I left Pryor and moved to Edmond.  One of the hopes that I have for all of my Pryor friends is that we will spend eternity together and I can catch up on all I have missed.

I was sick at my stomach all week and the only thing I could keep down was the hot yeast rolls that Kathy (in Pryor also) baked and sent me when Becky Bacon (also in Pryor) brought me when she came to see me a couple of weeks ago.  I froze them and break off one or two at a time.  I have been blessed with so many good people who are my friends.  I love them every one.

Some medicine my doctor gave me was what made me sick--but I was slow to figure that out.  Pain or nausea--I’ll take pain every time.  

My friend Rebecca Perkins is coming next week.  She is going to set me up with a publisher she knows.  What would we do without friends?  

My book is still in the works but printing has gummed up the works.  My frustration is in the stratosphere. 

  Still not feeling well.  I think I have a bug of some sort.  My two youngest grandchildren called at 7 this morning and woke me up.  They have to get up early to make it to school on time.  I had gone to bed the night before and couldn’t go to sleep before one.  Kids have been waking me up at every moment of the night for 65 years--wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m in charge of getting the mail for my neighbor.  She is a couple of hours away taking care of her 95 yr. old mother-in-law.  Walking to the mailbox to get my junk mail is the most exciting thing I do every day.

What is the deal with these car warranty calls???!!!  I get four or five a day.  And the leading sentence is, “This is the last courtesy call we are going to give you.”  I wish I could get rid of the calls.  They come from all over the USA.  I block them but they don’t stay blocked.

 

I had a very bad experience with a local pharmacy yesterday.  They wanted me to scan something---I have never scanned and didn’t know how...then fill out multiple pages of information about myself.  On my phone.  My hands occasionally shake and I couldn’t do it.  It was information they didn’t need and had no right to, but they wouldn’t process me unless I told them my entire medical history.

I was so upset by the time I left, I was physically sick.  I will never go back there again.  Customer relations are important to older people--we grew up in a different age and are not very computer handy.  I usually go to Walgreens.  They are very nice and helpful.  But they didn’t have what I needed so I was forced to go somewhere else.

I’ll do without before I go through something like that again.  It does have one positive effect if you are trying to lose weight...which I am not.

Being nice takes nothing.  Why are so many people not nice?  I don’t get it.  However this generation has grown up not interacting with real people, just texting, playing video games and doing all communication on a computer.  My generation were very heavy on being kind to others, always saying please and thank you, and smiling.  I don’t know when I’ve seen a young person smile.  I think I’m over the hill and sliding down the other side.

Do you have someone who doesn’t like you?  Have you figured out why?  That is the thing that is hard to do--because you, and I, are all likable(?) But when someone decides they don’t like you, reversing their opinion is difficult.  If not impossible. 

We are who we are.  But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take a good look at ourselves and consider doing things, or saying things, in a different way.  Self examination never hurts.

Through the years, I have learned that I don’t have to answer ever question immediately.  And some questions I don’t need to answer at all. There are people who don’t want answers to the questions they ask...they just want someone to listen and agree with their perspective.  And when I don’t agree with their perspective, there is no reason to give them mine.  They don’t want it.

Some people aren’t looking for answers, they just want to build a coalition of people who agree with them.  Or they want sympathy but not change.  I’m not good at that kind of listening.  Basically because I don’t want to listen to someone whine.

I need people around me who make me better.  You do too.  Maybe that is why our inner circle of friends is small.  Start with Jesus.

I’m taking the rest of the day off.  I left the house at 7:30 to go to breakfast and estate sales with Ann, got home in time go go get my hair done.  Returned for 10 minutes and went back out the door to get a CT scan and finally sat down and held my dog at 1:30.

He can’t take my coming in and out.  He has anxiety when I leave.  I picked him up and held him for thirty minutes and he finally calmed down.  Dogs can’t tell whether you have left for good or are coming back.  

Leaving him three times in one morning was too much.  But he has always been insecure.  The family who bought him from a breeder, had just gotten married and had a blended family of five kids and five dogs--they got rid of the newest dog.  Luckily I got him.  Best thing that has happened in the last few years.  Squig is my best friend.

If you don’t have a dog, get one.  I didn’t let my kids have a dog--and I have repented.  I had never had a pet growing up, and “Didn’t Get It.”  Oh my stars.  There is nobody more loyal, faithful and true.  They love you even when you don’t deserve it.

Pat is on her way from the East Coast today, and she said that the trip isn’t so bad because she has her dog Oscar in the front seat next to her. You can talk to a dog and they always agree with you. 

 

Carolyn got me a subscription to Reader’s Digest.  Once each month I have something interesting to read.  I used to subscribe to it all the time, but between four kids and a husband (who had stopped being deployed every month or so and retired), and a job (55 miles from where we lived) came into my life, reading sort of slipped by the wayside and I didn’t resubscribe.  Carolyn knew what I needed!!  Good friends are a blessing.

I’ve always posted in the mornings, but lately, I haven’t even gotten dressed before ten or ten-thirty.  It doesn’t make a difference when you read it anyway, today or tomorrow.  It doesn’t really make a difference if I get dressed either.

 

My lawn man mowed today and I had him blow out under the upright freezer in the garage.  Mice had taken up residence there.  It’s a wonder that they hadn’t started an electrical fire.  They had brought a zillion acorns in, cracked them, and left the shells.  I didn’t know mice ate oak acorns but they do.  It was a mess, but I got it cleaned up.

I have to get a new seal on the bottom of the garage door.  There is a crack in the tube seal big enough for a skunk, raccoon or anything else that wants to get in the garage can get through--as it gets cold.  And it has started getting cold.  It’s been in the fifties lately.  This time last year we had the biggest ice storm in the history of the state.  I’m thankful it isn’t freezing yet.  I am dreading the cold.  “If winter comes...can spring be far behind.”  Who wrote that, and why do I remember it?  Shelly?

 

The more people in your family, the more joys and more heartbreaks you will have.  Sometimes I feel like a pin cushion. And sometimes so full of happiness I feel like I will burst.  And the longer you live, the more of both you will have.

The cardiologist cleared me for surgery.  Said my heart was excellent and strong.  For a heart that doesn’t beat on its own, that’s good news.  I’m due for my fourth pacemaker.  Thank God for medical science.  Now I just have to decide to let a doctor operate on my back.  I’m almost there.  But having a doctor in the family (my brother) clues me in on all the things that can go wrong.  

My brother Bill has had every surgery that can be done on a person’s back.  And the fusion done on his discs has broken down.  He said he saw an x-ray of his spine recently and realized that it is totally shot.  He will have to live with what he has at this point.  I just wonder if trying to fix my back is worth it after watching all Bill has been through.

Ken, (a true Marine) always said that pain is just weakness leaving the body.  He even had a pillow embroidered with that sentence.  It’s in a chair in the back bedroom.  Every time I pass through I see it and remind myself of that.  And consider the source--Ken was tough.  Getting old is not particularly pleasant...I’m trying to do it with grace and some days I succeed.  Others...well the alternative is to die young and I’m blessed that didn’t happen.  I’m at what they say is a ripe old age.  Ripe.

I went to Hideaway Pizza  and ordered three pizzas, then wrapped individual slices and froze them.  I now have breakfast for 18 days. I alternate days so that should last me for a month or so.  I no longer worry about what is good for me.  At my age, what difference does it make?  I still try to eat healthy--except for pizza.

All these people going into space must have a screw loose.  Millions of dollars for twelve minutes.  Think what that money could do!  I guess they would say I missed the point.  That would be right on.

I’ve been reading the Psalms.  David is the most down to earth person in the Bible.  Probably all those years herding sheep gave him a realistic background for being king.  He knew what real life was like.

And I’m teaching about Abraham on Sundays.  He, like David, is held in high esteem.  But both were flawed.  Abraham told his wife to lie.  To say she was his sister so that the Egyptians wouldn’t kill him to claim her.  He just sat back and let her go to Pharaoh to be his wife.  Every lesson we do on Abraham, I keep thinking about what Sarah thought about her husband Abraham.  I would have been very irritated.  But women had no rights back then, much like in the mid-east today.  They were, and are, property.

     Monday.  I have dozens of housekeeping chores that I have managed to put off for a week.  Folding clothes is one of them.  The ladies that clean my house--every two weeks on Friday--strip the beds and I have to wash sheets--which isn’t a problem, but folding them is.  Something that used to be easy isn’t easy any more.  I usually wait until someone comes to see me and get them to help me fold.

    Sunday, we started the study of Abraham.  God told Abraham to go to a country where God would send him.  I can just hear the conversation that evening at suppertime.  “Sarah, you need to pack things up.  We’re moving.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?  My friends are here.  Our family is here.  I don’t want to move.”

I know what Ken would have said, he would have said, “I have orders.”  I heard him say that a bunch of times.

Abraham and Sarah moved.  To a place where they had no friends; to a place they had never been.  Because God gave orders to Abraham and he  listened to God, believed God, trusted God, and obeyed God. God gave him 7 promises that we call the “Abrahamic Covenent.”

Becky Bacon left late this morning.  I hate it when she leaves.  She is one of the most peaceful people in my life.  She says that she comes to see me so that we, “...don’t fill the air with talk.  We just sit--and know each other is there.”  Occasionally one of us will get up from where we are sitting and cross the room to show each other something.

We get what we want to eat, sometimes fix each other a plate and enjoy the peace of comfortable friendship.  We ate the rolls Kathy sent, and I sent Kathy a sewing machine I wasn’t using back with Becky.  Kathy wants to teach her granddaughter how to sew.  My sewing consists of crossing the street to use Jeaninne’s sewing machine.

It is the end of another week.  2020 flew, 2021 evaporated.  The only difference I can tell from 2019 is that I trimmed the crepe myrtle in my back yard back then and the bermuda grass has grown up to the trunk of the bush.  It used to be a fifteen foot dirt patch.  Now my lawn is lush and green everywhere.

God has done such a beautiful job of creation.  I plant stuff.  He grows it.  And color is such a gift.  Color and music are two things that God gave us to brighten our days.  “In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”  

   

 

 I flat out forgot to post yesterday.  I must be over the hill.  Today I go see the pain specialist and I am finally going to talk about hips.  He has been wanting to do that for a couple of years.  He keeps telling me they are shot.  I don’t mind the surgery but  rehab is another story.  Am I going to do it.  Maybe.  Pain can be a real motivator.

Becky Bacon came in yesterday and brought rolls from Kathy Davidson.  I ate three of them immediately and two more within five minutes.  I am happy.  I’ll have rolls for breakfast this morning. And while I’m eating rolls I will do the ken-ken that Carolyn sent me. She cuts them out of her paper every day for me.  Life doesn’t get much better than that.

When I went out to get the paper the other day, a little snake had made his way up to the top of the hedge along the front walkway and he didn’t seem to know what to do next to get down.  I picked him up and put him back down on the ground.  The next day, he was belly up on the walkway.  I guess he died of trauma.  I know how to pick up a snake.  I didn’t hurt him, but between me and the hedge-climb, he didn’t make it.  It made me sad.

Becky Bacon brings her own coffee with her.  Little packets she gets at the Korean grocery store.  I can’t tell it from the real thing. G7 coffee three in one. Coffee, sugar and cream.  But I’m hooked on Darjeeling tea.

Tuesday.  They come around so fast.  I feel like time is dripping through my fingers. It was January just last week.  And summer flew by.  We finally had a tornado warning Sunday night--this has been a year when we didn’t have but a couple of those.  Which is good.

Scott called on his way to work to agree with me that the book of Job is written like a drama.  Like Beowulf.  ( Did you have to read that in high school?  They say it is the oldest drama that we have.  People stand up and speak, sits down, then someone else speaks, etc.)  

I think Job was about a real man who met real tragedy.  But I think someone wrote it down to present it as a play and they did it in Beowulf style.  One person speaks, stops, and another speaks, stops--and so on.

I have a problem with the play director introducing the play with Satan coming to the throne of God and having a discussion and God giving Satan permission to test Job.  Satan and his angels had been cast out of heaven and damned.  How could a holy God let evil come before His throne?  

I think the writer of the play (about a real man, Job--and it is a true story) wanted to introduce the story and chose that way to do it.  In Isaiah, it says that, “...the Lord’s ear is not heavy that He cannot hear you...but your sins have separated between you and your God and he will not hear you.”  How could God listen to Satan.  I believe the Bible is true from cover, but since that “Job” intro is about Satan bargaining with God, I think the story was put in the form of a drama.  I could be wrong...it won’t be the first time. 

If if hadn’t been for brown beans, I would have starved to death when I was growing up.  My mom was a big roast, meat and potatoes cook.  I don’t like meat very much.  But once a week, she made brown beans and cornbread.  Along with, fried potatoes or okra...or greens with bacon.  I ate leftovers off and on all week.

I put beans on this morning.  With ham...but I won’t eat much of the ham.  I don’t like sugar or milk products either.  I love brownies with pecans, but that’s about it for sweets.  I guess you would say I am picky.  But I’m really not, I’ll eat anything rather than cook.

But this Thursday, Kathy is sending me homemade rolls!!!  My favorite thing in the world. Becky Bacon is coming for the weekend (hopefully) and bringing them.  And Becky picked up the Ken-ken puzzles from Carolyn.  She saves them for me.  I love puzzles.  Carolyn cuts them out of the paper every day for me.  Puzzles and yeast bread---all in the same day.  Becky, Kathy and Carolyn are three of my BFFs.

The girls in the church office have gotten excited about the book I wrote about my brother Bill.  They are getting the Southern Baptist Press involved.  Maybe it will come to something.  The preacher praised it...so that may help.  All I can do is hope.  He is the writer of current Sunday educational lessons.

I doubt--at this point--I’ll ever get a book published.  The print company that was printing the book went bankrupt.  The publisher is having a meltdown and I am stuck in the middle.  I think this is what life is all about, one thing after another.

I am teaching the book of 1 John; my preacher wrote the material for the denomination.  He presented six things we can be sure of, because John, an eye witness, tells us what he knew.  He starts his letter by saying that he (John) saw, heard, and touched the risen Christ.

The book is written to Christian believers that John had discipled.  He calls them “Children.”  You can tell he loves them.  He reassures them of the truth, the reality of God’s promises and Christ in whom we believe.

In the last chapter, he says that he is writing to those who believe, so that they can know--so they can believe.  The stages of Christian growth.  We believe, the evil one wants to make us doubt, we reassure ourselves by reading a letter written by an eyewitness, and our belief is strengthened.

The Biblical account is a marvelous piece of eyewitness testimony.  Think about how many things you believe that don’t have an eyewitness.