When I was growing up, on Sunday mornings around Memorial day, the preacher would have everyone stand up who served in the Army, then the Navy, Air Force and Marines.  

What they never did was ask anyone to stand who had lost a husband, child, mother, father, brother or sister in war.  They still don’t.  I think they should do that.  My cousin’s husband lost his son Jared.

It also wouldn’t hurt to acknowledge those who had a husband, child, mother, father, brother or sister who had served in out country’s military to stand.

People don’t realize the sacrifices that families make when they send someone to war.

We now have all military branches filled with volunteers.  We have no draft.  Those who serve must choose to do it.  The fate of our response to any aggression on our country falls on their shoulders.

I personally think that the nation should have the investment of us all.  Not just volunteers.  We all should pay the price for freedom in some way by serving in some capacity.  Then we would treasure it much more.  

After saying “no” for months to the pain specialist about going to physical therapy, I finally gave in and went yesterday.  When the therapist got through with me--after an hour--I was never going back again.  I was in misery.  He hit every ligament and tendon in my back with every thing he had in his bag of tricks.  

But today, I am almost pain free.  Amazing.

It’s hard to admit when you are wrong.  So, I was wrong.  I’m going back next Tuesday and give it another try.  Maybe my doctor knows more than I do?

I only have 38 more pages to edit in the book about my brother.  He is then going to read it one more time and then I’m going to print it and submit it.  And pray.

The rain yesterday was a frog-strangler.  I called Carolyn and went out on the back porch for her to be able to hear it coming down.  It was so violent that it roared.  I got an emergency alert for flooding from the weather alert system it was so bad.

But someone else got the tornados.  And the hail.  Sorry for them.  Happy for me.

If it wasn’t for my friend Rebecca Perkins, I might forget to post some days.  But she texts me and says:  “Post.”

The weather here is getting ready to get really bad.  That’s what the weather men are saying.  Which could be true--or not.  You never know.  They love to sensationalize.

But right now, based on what it feels like outside--heavy--I would say they are probably right this time.

I was raised on “Run to the Cellar.”  My mom was so frightened all the time of tornados.  But of course, when we moved to Pryor, it had just been hit right down main street by one that killed over fifty people.

And we didn’t have warning systems.  Or doppler radar.  Or warning sirens.  Just my mother’s opinion.  Which was:  “It’s getting dark out in the southwest.  Get your stuff together because we going to our neighbor’s cellar.”

Now, it has to be right over me before I move.

I did warn Jeannine across the street that I may join her if the whistle blows.

 In the late thirties, early forties, there was a war going on and everything was rationed.  I went in and drew myself a bath yesterday.  Hot, hot water, and remembered.

No one left a faucet on.  You kept a pan of water by the sink for rinsing hands.  Hot water was a luxury.  The water and electric bills were highly controlled--you couldn’t afford either.

And as I was sitting soaking in the tub, I remembered when one tub of water served everyone.  You couldn’t afford to fill it up twice.  Mama got the first bath, the girls the second and the guys got the dirty water.

It didn’t seem strange at the time.  Now it sounds gross.  At my grandmothers house, there was a great big horse watering trough or the stream out back of the barn.  And a bar of lye soap.

Today, everyone takes a shower and lets the water run.  That is such a luxury.  People in other countries don’t have those simple privileges.  The war torn countries of the world are desperate for clean water to drink.

Americans are so spoiled.  If we ever had another war, I don’t know how Americans would give up their daily showers.  We let a computer virus shut down gasoline on the east coast.  We have forgotten how to do without.  People have no idea how to manage on nothing.

My friend Darrell Anderson went to heaven this week.  He was everyone’s friend.  He ran Thomas’s restaurant in Pryor.  Every trucker from Houston to St. Louis knew where to stop and eat.  They would park their trucks  across the highway and the railroad tracks and walk to the restaurant. 

He supervised his own beef.  And his steaks were memorable.  My favorite was the veggie plate.  He would include breaded tomatoes--which I have a weakness for.  The onion rings and homemade rolls were to die for.

I asked him why his breaded tomatoes were so much better than the ones that I cooked at home and he said, “Butter, Janie.  A stick of butter.”  And of course plenty of brown sugar.  

I never could match Darrell’s tomatoes, but mine got a lot better after he gave me his instructions.  Butter.  A stick of butter.  Not a pat.  A stick.

Everyone loved Darrell.  He was just a really kind soul.  And he fed mid-America every day for a zillion years.  Probably fifty at least.

Some people we miss because of what they added to our own lives.  Darrell was one of those people.  Rest in peace. 

I’ve been under the weather.  It wouldn’t have been a big deal , but Becky Bacon was coming Saturday with her sister from the East coast, and I had to tell her not to come.

Of course--because she knows me well and loves me--she called my daughter Pat, who called to check on me.  And Tom wanted me to get a Covid test.  It was probably something I ate?  I’m not going to get a test.  I’ve had both shots.  I don’t think they were happy that I hadn’t told them I was ill. Maybe I should have.  It’s hard to go from being independent to being “kinda iffy.”

I couldn’t go teach my class Sunday.  Second time in five years.  So, at least I know when to shut down and stay home.

I’m better today.  I don’t like being sick.

I am going to call and get set up for the laser on my back.  It didn’t work last week.  Maybe it will work this time.  My brother says I don’t have anything to lose by trying.

Tomatoes are blooming.  Okra is up.  Astilbe is blooming pink, pink, pink.

I love my gardens. 

I don’t do sweets.  But my brain forgets that, so yesterday I cut up a bunch of strawberries, whipped cream and sliced a pound cake.

I knew better.  What was I thinking.  Sick for twenty four hours.  I’m still not back to normal.

Maybe it was the heavy whipped cream.

I packaged it all up and sent it to the crew at the estate sale to enjoy.  They thought it was wonderful.  Most people love sweets.  I don’t know why I don’t.  I don’t like anything milk either.  Heavy cream...stupid!

My plan is to never buy strawberries or cream again.

I’m a veggie freak.  Meat, sweets, and fruit don’t seem to satisfy me.  But best of all is yeast bread.  Fresh, homemade bread.

So....I don’t make bread or I’ll eat the whole loaf.

Green beans, broccoli, sweet peas, yams, tomatoes.  And pasta.  Pasta is the best invention in the world.  Put tomato sauce on it and I’m a happy camper.

 

Well, the procedure didn’t work this time.  The doctor said it doesn’t always work--but after doing it on the right side with such dramatic results, I was hopeful.  I don’t know what the next step is.

I finally got my taxes in.  Late.  They haven’t come for me yet.  Maybe the IRS won’t notice??

This was my worst procrastination yet, but really, it was the post office delivery man that goofed.  He left a notice--first notice was how it was marked.  Four days later I hadn’t gotten a second notice.  I’ll tell the IRS that it wasn’t my fault???

Discussion at teacher’s meeting last night was interesting.  Eight teachers, all knowledgeable of the Bible, digging into the fine points that nobody else would probably ask.  Just in case someone asks.

I whipped real cream this morning.  To put over fresh sliced strawberries. I knew buying them both at the store was a mistake.  Now I have to eat it all.  Mama taught me never to waste food.

Wonder how many pounds that is going to be.  I need a partner in crime.

Everything went well with my procedure.  I think it had the effect the surgeon wanted.  I’ll know soon whether I am a candidate for the permanent nerve block.  I’m ready.  Any relief from pain is a plus.

Weatherman said severe storms for the last two days.  Didn’t happen.  A little rain.  Weather people have great jobs.  They drum up anxiety that the end is coming, and don’t lose their jobs when they are wrong.

The post office delivered my tax forms to mail a check and when I wasn’t home, said they would try again.  That was four days ago.  No show.  So I went to the post office this morning and got them.  I guess my taxes are going to be late.  So I may be blogging from jail.

In a few minutes, I’m going to supervise the planters who are putting in Jeanette’s  front bed in front of the porch and between the porch and the sidewalk.  She wants me to say where they go.  I don’t mind doing that.  Better two heads than one.

I forgot to go to the Bible school meeting on Sunday afternoon.  I hope they let me work anyway.  I’m going to try and handle two grandsons this year.  Brady is in the third grade.  Tate in kindergarten.  Tate is a live wire and Brady pokes his buttons.  It’s going to be a handful for an old woman.  But it will be fun as well.

I’m going to have my back ablated again today.  The only part I don’t like is being put to sleep.

It’s frustrating to have to do this again.  They won’t permanently do it  unless a temporary nerve block has worked twice.  This is the second time.  It worked last time for a few weeks.  Just want it over.

Tomatoes are blooming.  Okra is in.  Now all I have to do is sit and watch.

It is supposed to rain every day this week.  The weather man said that we would get a frog-strangler during the night last night.  Nothing.  I wonder where they get their info?

The sun is coming up.  It’s time to start my day--however--I don’t have a single thing to start.  I’m reading Winston Churchill’s book, “Their Finest Hour.”  I am half way through.  I didn’t realize that most of the French politicians wanted to sign a treaty with Germany and give up.

They were defeated mentally.  But England fought on.  Germany couldn’t get a landing force across water without air supremacy--and Germany didn’t have that.  I had no idea the millions of decisions that had to be made to fight a war.  It is mind boggling. 

It has been difficult to read because Winston includes every memo to every person in his cabinet and also to other countries.  Zillions of memos.

Yesterday in class we discussed a statement that Jesus made when he was on the cross.  “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

The discussion was lively.  I asked the question: “How can someone be forgiven if they haven’t repented?”

Another question: “Why didn’t Jesus forgive them himself?  Why ask the Father to do it?”

Another: “Who was He asking forgiveness for?  Was it the high priests and Pharisees who had him sentenced?  

Or the Roman soldiers who nailed him to the cross?  

Or the crowd who was taunting him?  

Or was it for the onlookers?  

Or was it for the world, for us?”

It is always interesting to ask a question nobody has thought of asking themselves before.  One thing that was a positive answer: Jesus paid the price for our sin.  He is our High Priest who intercedes to the Father to forgive us.

How can it be Friday again.  But then, how can it be the middle of May?  Last year dragged.  This year is vanishing.  And I still don’t have the okra in the ground because it is too cold.  Okra likes hot.

My gardener came yesterday and finished transplanting 14 or more different shrubs.  He did twice the work, because he had to dig them all up before he moved them.  I went out to water a moment ago and they all look like they are going to make it.  I was going to do this three years ago but I pooped out.

I love it when a job is DONE.

Ann comes to get me this morning and we will go to breakfast and then check out the garage sales.  I am in an I-Hop crepe, strawberry and whipped cream mood.  

Have a wonderful weekend.  Looks like part of the state is going to get hail.  It’s going to miss Oklahoma City I think.  I hope so.  I gave Ken’s car to my grandson and it is sitting out.  I’m going to have them put it back in my garage until it’s over.  Just in case.

Another grandson face-timed me yesterday.  I have grandsons who are good to call and check on me.

A dear friend from the class graduating the year after me got “not good” news yesterday.  Surgery couldn’t provide a stent to the liver due to side issues and he has been sent home to hospice.

Those of us who are in our eighties are vanishing.  We are the children of World War Two; we remember.  The silly problems that people are complaining and protesting about in today’s world are totally insignificant compared to those of the early nineteen-forties.  The nazis, the holocaust,, the fall of France, the lack of basic necessities in America.  No gas, tires, food shortages and on and on...not for one year but for six or seven. 

We are so blessed to live in America.  People from all over the world want to get into our country.  Other countries don’t usually have that problem.  And you don’t see Americans struggling to leave and get into some other country.  The truth is that we are truly “The land of opportunity.”  Here, you have a chance to rise above your current situation.

We somehow believe we are destined to always be blessed by God no matter what we do.  That is not true.  God’s blessings come with obedience to him.  You cannot re-invent what the Bible says about things that God says are wrong and expect Him to change his mind.  

He is God.  If he says something is wrong, it is wrong.  If America wants his blessings, we must repent from wrong ideas and actions.  Now.

  

 My gardener is going to try to work again today.  The rain that came yesterday hopefully loosened up the soil.

I am finding it harder and harder to blog.  Time seems to get away from me.  Writing books on the side occupies my mind.

No...I haven’t heard from the publisher.  I did text a lawyer and he said he would help me get out of the contract.  Two other publishers have told me that mine has not upheld her end of the contract.

Someone asked if I paid her.  No!!!.  I could do that on Amazon.  I would have gotten  out of the deal long ago, but finding someone to take an interest in a first time author is almost impossible and everyone tells me it is a miracle that I found one interested in my writing.

Frustration.

Frustration.

It leaves me not knowing which way to turn.   

 Today, Ron is coming to transplant shrubs.  I hit one of those end of summer sales at Lowe’s and bought a bunch of stuff last October.  Stuck it all in the ground with no plan.  I planned to replant in the spring.  But my back went south and I couldn’t get it done last spring

Big mistake.  It will cost more to straighten all that out than if I had paid full price and had it done right.

Oh, well.  It is what it is.

The freeze got some of them.  Of course it got the most expensive bush, a yew.

I have found a wonderful “Yummy China” close to where I live.  They deliver.  I ordered beef and broccoli with fried rice and it was yummy.  Their name says it all.  I can eat something there once a week and try everything they make.  I love Chinese.  I like to eat it for breakfast.

I’ve been helping Jeanette figure out what to plant in her front bed.  She lost everything--everything--in the freeze.  As you drive around town, it’s apparent that she wasn’t the only one.  There are dead trees and shrubs everywhere.  The church lost every foundation shrub they had.  Looks like more than fifty of them!

Of course, there will come times when you have a chance to say more.  The man who installed my TV -- (so that the wires came through the wall from outside the wall--I didn’t want wires to show)  sat down on my couch and talked for a while.  

I usually ask, “Are you a Christian kind of person,” instead of the blunt “Are you a Christian.”  He said, “I used to be, but I quit going to church.”  

Of course I shared the basics about that.  And before he left an hour later, he realized he didn’t have to get saved again, also church didn’t save you and other thoughts.  He said he was going to go to his church the next Sunday.  The thing that was most important to him out of the discussion was that his children were dependent on him taking them with him.

It wasn’t a hard-sell.  It was just a discussion.  People don’t want to be thumped with a Bible.  But they are sometimes are ready to talk.  However, it won’t happen unless you are the one to start the discussion.

Most of the time you do good to get one opening line.  But sometimes, you get a guy sitting on the sofa, asking questions, laughing and happy to hear your life experiences.  All we have to do is be ready.  One chance out of a hundred “tries” may save someone’s eternal life.  It’s important to try.

Last night at a meeting I attended, the question was asked, “How do you encourage your members to witness.  Of course the standard answers came in.  Including praying about it, reading the Bible, etc., etc...

I offered the opinion that they do not need to pray for opportunities.  That is God’s job.  He provides those.  My opinion is that you need to evaluate ahead of time who your opportunities are.  They are out there. 

And you are not selling the gospel.  You are throwing seed out.  Scattering it.  Evaluate who you come in contact with each week in your daily life.

For me, it’s waiters.  Or drive through people.  Or repairmen, gardeners, door to door salespeople.  Who do you meet?  

You don’t want to hit them over the head with a Bible.  You just need a pre-planned opening.  Include God’s name in normal conversation.  If I am a restaurant, when the food is placed on the table I usually say something like, “We’re going to bless our food; is there something you would like us to pray about for you?”  Almost always they respond, and we pray.  

You have accomplished two things. 1. There is a God that hears us pray. and 2. The waiter has met a Christian that isn’t giving them a hard sell.

I’ve never gotten a rude or negative response.  

Today I am going to eat Chinese with Jeanette.  Very exciting.  However, it doesn’t take much to get me excited after this pandemic.  

The horrible freeze we had killed all of her shrubs in her front flower bed, shrubs that had been there for probably over fifteen years.  The ones like that at the church got frozen as well.  I’d guess they lost fifty shrubs.

These are the kind of shrubs that are supposed to live through cold weather; however, the freeze we had went on forever and was awful.

Anyway, we are going to the nursery to see what she should buy to replace them.  And design a layout.

I lost three shrubs.  I thought I lost my thirty foot high myrtle, but it is showing signs of recovery.

The tomatoes are doing well.  The okra isn’t.  I will have to plant it again.  It hasn’t been hot enough to grow okra.

I do what I can and God does the rest.

After over 2000 posts, you would think I would figure out how to preset the type size and the font.  But no...I set it every time I write.

I am not an “Read the instructions” learner.  Someone has to show me.  I learn by watching.  And my Mac computer doesn’t have an instructor to go with it.  It just has instructions.

One problem with that is that they use words I don’t know to explain a process I don’t know.  Hard to do when you don’t know the language.

And I am not the greatest listener in the world either.  If I miss a point, I can’t just skip it and go on.  I stop.  Dead stop.

I found out when I was teaching math at a college that students didn’t learn the same way.  So I would present an idea on the board.  Explain it verbally, and then end up at some student’s desk to show them how.

I think that is why I am enjoying this exercise of marking themes in color that show up in the Bible.  There are no instructions with the words I highlight.  It just serves as a “notice.”

It’s pouring down rain, so it will be a good day to do nothing.

 Every Monday, five of us are doing a word recognition in the New Testament by coloring a word a particular color.  Today my friend Jeanette helped us identify the word “angel.”  There are a bunch of them.

The object of what we are doing is to become aware of certain themes in the Bible.  It has been very interesting.  I had no idea the word “angel” was referred to so many time.

The Jews were used to angels.  God spoke to them through prophets and angels.  So perhaps that is why they are mentioned so often.

But we Christians miss the opportunities we have from God by not recognizing what He sends angels to do for us.  One verse talks of little children having a personal angel.  In another Jesus says we should become like children in the way we receive his words. 

Another says that sometimes we meet angels unaware.  They are sent to help us and we don’t even know we have met them.

Now when I thumb through the Word of God, I see the word “Angel” with a pink circle, a halo, around the word.  It draws my mind to the subject and causes me to think.  I’ve never done anything like this before, it isn’t a Bible study, it is an awareness exercise.  It has been interesting.