Maybe, just maybe, I’ve found something to kill the drain flies.  Raid.  I emptied half a can down the drain last night, and this morning there weren’t any.  After a week of this, I hope so.  

If you get a fruit fly infestation in a drain, don’t waste your money on Clorox, vinegar, borax, soda, or boiling water.  Start with Raid.  Or don’t buy bananas.  I never heard of anyone getting these before.  I’ve didn’t know this possibility existed.  

Becky Bacon is here to see the Dean McGee eye doctor.  She’s going to stay through tomorrow.  It is so wonderful to have her here.  Jeaninne came over last night to talk about the drug Eliquis, and the fact it was so expensive ($500 a month) that she was going to quit taking it.  Becky (RN genius) said “No! You mustn’t do that.  You need to Google the national medical reports on that subject.”

“Who wrote the national report,” Jeanine asked?  “I was the co-author,” Becky told her. 

Becky is so unassuming that you would never know she was a genius.  She is smarter than any doctor I know.  The telling point however is that Squig adores her.  Squig has excellent taste.

   

For the first time in my life, I am fighting a bug infestation.  I thought I had seen it all with the military housing, rentals, etc. as we moved from coast to coast.  

The military is supposed to give you housing, but they never do.  You get to station, and there is nothing open and available.  You send your stuff to storage, rent a motel and wait until someone in your squadron moves out.  You have to grab the house before it hits the market--so you are the one who cleans it up before you move in.  Bugs and all.  In all those years, we only got base housing twice.  And one of those houses was two bed, one bath for us and three kids.  We took the mattress off the second bed for Scott to sleep on the floor and the girls got the base of the bed.

But bugs...this is a new one for me.  They are in my brand new spick and span bathroom tub drain.  I haven’t had a single bug since I left the military.  And these are so tiny you can barely see them.  I thought it was dust specks until I saw one move.  They are coming out of the drain and nobody knows how they got there.  I poured a bottle of Clorox down the drain.  They loved it.  Borax--same thing...a bottle of vinegar--they ate it up.  Raid, no problem.  Then I started pouring gallons and gallons of boiling water down the drain.  Nothing kills them.  They are smaller than the tip of a pin.  Teeny.  I now know that they must have come in on bananas.  They are fruit flys.  How they got into the tub drain I’ll never know.  They aren’t anywhere else.  The exterminator wants $300 with no guarantee.  Jeanette is ordering me a jug of something from Amazon...it gets here tomorrow.  I wouldn’t wish this on anybody.  I bet I end up spending $$$$.   

I have six or seven things to do today.  I’m aiming to get two of them done.  Then I will reevaluate.   

My publisher called me Saturday.  Paper prices have gone through the roof, the pandemic closed most book stores, and people stayed home and read books on Kindle.  She had gone to the Oklahoma publisher’s convention and was the only publisher there.  Nationally, the five largest publishers have gone belly up except for one, and the Germans bought that one out.

All that to say...she is not giving up.  My librarian daughter Pat keeps telling me that it is a miracle that she is still in business.  Pat says that every publisher in Oklahoma is hurting.

The publisher said, “I believe in this book.  There aren’t any books out there like it...books about what children of went through when the Viet Nam war was going on and their fathers and moms went to war.  And Americans spit on them when they returned.”

All I can say is, “Get it published.  Do whatever you have to do to get there.”

I hope I’m still here to see it.

 Jon called last night to wish me a happy birthday.  And then he asked, “How close did I get to getting it right?”

“Only two days off,” I told him.  “You did better than when you lived in Houston.”

Everyone remembers that when the redbuds bloom, it’s my birthday.  Sometimes they get it right.

When he was in Texas, he called me in February.  Two hundred miles south, they were blooming then.

When my mom was in the hospital to have me, it was snowing outside, and the doctor told my dad he couldn’t save both of us.  Dad chose to save mom of course.  The doctor said later that when he went to deliver me, I turned around, and was born before he had to make a choice.

My dad, and uncle Cleo were waiting--and when they heard that I had been born and was okay, they went outside and it wasn’t snowing, and the redbuds had burst into bloom.

Nobody forgets my birthday.  Sometimes, even the redbuds get it right.  This year they are close.  Tomorrow.  Eighty-four years of redbuds.

Yesterday, two lovely young men came to do my carpets.  They went the extra mile, removed some odd rust spots where something metal sat on the floor when I was moving in (the spots had been there four years.)  

They scrubbed a place where I had spilled grape juice, tried for over an hour to get the places Squig had messed up and then deodorized everything--and also cleaned three rooms of carpet.

I had them sit for a moment in the kitchen to eat chocolate brownies and drink Dr. Pepper.  Tipped them and sent them on their way.

I heard one of them say to the other one as they were leaving, “I wish all our customers were nice like that.”  And I was thinking, “I wish all the people who come to help me were nice like that.”

How much does nice cost anyway.  They worked hard.  I appreciated them.  They appreciated my attitude even though they couldn’t get Squigg’s “outhouse” perfectly clean.

I played Amazing Grace for them on the marimba.  That’s what life is all about.  Giving each other some grace.

  

Stanley Steamer is on their way.  It’s either that...or get new carpet.  Squig has started leaking.  I’ll try cleaning the carpet first...I also got doggie diapers.  We’ll see how this works out.  

Squig turns 14 this week, so I don’t expect him to get any better.  I’ve started timing myself as to how long I leave him alone before I get home to let him out.  His max seems to be three hours.

I expected to get a lot of feed back on my blog when I said that Sampson committed suicide.  Nope.  Maybe you never considered that was what happened?  Let me know what you think.

Sampson was chosen.  But...he failed God.  He had a problem with women that led him away from the path God had chosen for him.  He ended up blind, hopeless, and repentant.  And God heard his prayer to restore his strength so he could bring the walls of the building down.  

The men came to clean the carpet awhile ago.  I fed them brownies and Dr. Pepper.  They did a super job.  I’ll pay closer attention to Squig from now on.

Some time ago, a woman told me that her son had suffered for years with a terminal disease, lost his eyesight, suffered constantly and finally took his own life.   He had been an exemplar Christian, Jesus had saved him and he had witnessed for Christ all of his life.  She was troubled at the number of people who told her that her son wouldn’t go to heaven. 

Balderdash!! I told her the story of a man who killed himself and hundreds of others--and how God blessed his last request.  He asked God to restore his strength so that he could bring down a structure on top of him--and everyone else who was there.  That was Sampson.  He not only killed himself and dozens of others, God gave him the strength to do it.

Does that mean we advocate for taking your own life?  Of course not.  But don’t judge what God will do based on what sins you commit.  Jesus died for all of it.   

I don’t know why God blessed Samson’s prayer for strength for what he was about to do.  All I know is that Samson was God’s child.  Before, during, and after.  

God doesn’t let go of us.  Once we belong to him, we are his forever.  I think we should stay out of the business of judging other people.  That’s God’s job.

My brother is not well.  And him being a doctor makes it worse because he has to trust another doctor and he knows all of the things that can go wrong.  Doctors are people, and medicine is a “practice.”   Not an exact science.  

Bill is an excellent doctor.  He spent most of his life diagnosing what was wrong with people in places where there were no solutions to their problems.  No hospitals, medicines, no medical equipment, no laboratories and no one to consult.  All he had was what he could get in a black bag that he carried with him.

He was a missionary to China for 37 years before China opened their doors.  Undercover.  A doctor was what they wanted, not a missionary.  He used medicine to get in the door and set up an arrangement with Bowman Gray hospital to get their doctors in.  China didn’t even have anesthetics in the early seventies.  They wanted what America had, but didn’t want to lose “face” by admitting it.

He got equipment in, doctors who knew how to use the equipment and changed the face of medicine in China, Tibet, Laos, Viet Nam, Mongolia, and every other mid eastern country.  And shared the story of Christ where he could.  He set up continuing clinics with rotating American doctors and trained Christian teachers and doctors and nurses to work undercover and not get caught.  Some made it.  Some didn’t.  Pray for my brother’s recovery.  

No, I haven’t quit posting.  I’ve been falling apart over my computer.  I hit one wrong key and the world came to an end.  I’ve had to drive to Luther to the library two days in a row for Pat and the library IT guy to help me.  Maybe I can get it all rectified this week.  The good thing is---Pat and I go eat while I’m there.

I saw in the newspaper this morning that they are going to stop the crazy time changes and leave the time alone--at the federal level!!!  Hallelujah.  No more springing forward and falling back.  I am very thankful.  I have to go on line to set my watch every spring and fall.  

It drives me nuts because I’m not a tech person and hate to follow directions.  You have to read a bunch of stuff first that doesn’t make a hill of beans before they tell you what you want to know.

Squig will be 14 years old next week.  He sleeps most of the time now.  I don’t know how much longer he has, but it is going to be so sad to lose him.  We are going to take a walk around the block today.  It takes longer now to walk that far--for both of us.  Carolyn and her dog Pablo are in the same boat as Squig and me.

It’s time to plant tomatoes and parsley.  No more green peppers, but will try okra again.  If I can keep the rabbits out of it.  Get your gardening gloves out...

   A couple of days ago, I said we could car pool--heaven forbid--and carry more than one person in a car.  Well, the next day as I was driving home from the store...there was a half mile row of cars, I counted over 53, lined up waiting to pick up their kids at school in the right hand turn lane which went all the way back to the light and curved back down the last street.

I didn’t see any car with two people in it.  Sitting there, burning gas,  waiting until school was out.  We are going to have to stop doing things like that as gas goes through the roof.  Probably not in Edmond--which has the highest income rate in  Oklahoma.  Suburb of OK City. It’s going to hurt those who don’t make enough to live on.  Half of the USA most probably.  Who right now can’t afford a home.

Rent, food, gas, supply line broken, truck drivers quitting because they get no money waiting on a ship to unload--they have to just sit and wait.  I have a dear friend the age of my children who drives--a million mile driver.  They get paid when they are loaded, moving, and delivering. The pandemic killed our ability to function.  Now Russia is going to cause a war and finish it off.  We can always get oil from Venezuela--but it is dirty oil and has to be cleaned--which costs more to clean.  We are in a mess right now and looking for someone to blame.  Covid is the culprit and now that it is slowing down, we want “Control Z” on our computer  to get back to where we were. That isn’t going to happen. 

Well, facebook is gone.  That’s okay.  I never posted anyway; I just answered when I thought appropriate.  Of course, no one wants to hear your opinion...most are deaf or misinterpret what you say.

My problem is that I would welcome an intellegent conversation on an issue.  Few know how to discuss.  They spout their “God given” truths.  I respect a few, very few, who don’t call people names as part of their positions---very few can do that.

High school debate is an awesome class for students.  You are assigned a position whether you like the issue or not--and you have to defend it with intelligence.  My friend Carolyn taught debate.  When I am trying to think something out, I call her and present both sides of the issue I am juggling.  Both sides of issues have points of truth or their wouldn’t be a debate! 

I’m glad those in Congress have decided to agree that we need to help with the situation in Ukraine.  I sure wouldn’t like to be making a decision on how to do that right now without further expanding war.

We are told to pray for our leaders, whether we like them or not.  Some of you like the current President.  Some of you like the last one.  Whatever, God says pray. 

Becky Bacon called to reserve “my hotel rooms” for the last of March--for three days.  I’m excited.  She is my friend that comes to visit and “not talk.”  That is so wonderful.  She sits on the sofa.  I sit in my chair--and occasionally one of us will say something.  

But for the most part we just read each other’s minds.  Friends like that are worth more than gold.  You know them.  They know you.  You’ve already said it all, agree on everything, and can just enjoy the “peace” of each other.  I can’t wait.

I think I am not going to facebook again.  I tapped on something and lost everything to a security block. I never tap on anything, but this time I did.  It took four hours on Apple assist just get it back up again.  And today, I drove to Luther to the library so Pat could retrieve the books I’ve written.  I have to get a back up hard drive.  It’s all in the cloud, but....where is the cloud.  I’m still not back where I was three days ago.

I went to Walgreens, and when I got in the car, I spilled a glass of water all over the things I had bought.  Squig licked most of it up, but luckily everything was in packages and nothing was ruined. All in all it hasn’t been a successful two days.  I’m going to start all over again tomorrow and see if I can’t do better.  I don’t know if I can post.  I don’t even know if this one will get “out there.”

Jeanette and I are back to color marking our Bibles.  It is one of the most interesting things I have ever done with Bible study.  Just coloring the word “Kingdom” in the book of Matthew has been an awesome eye opener. 

Jesus told his disciples to preach “The Kingdom of God.”  Or the “Gospel” of the kingdom of God.

Try underlining--or better--coloring the word “Kingdom” in the book of Matthew.  You probably won't be able to stop there and will do the entire New Testament.  

It has given me an entirely new way of looking at the words of Jesus.

Carolyn Brown says someone has put a bunch of new passages in her Bible that were never there before.  I have to agree.  If you have read God’s word over the years,  you will always find things you never saw before.

Maybe it is our maturity...it changes our needs.  And our way of viewing the world.  It changes what we notice.  Different things become important.  My friend in St. Louis area, Gale Dollar--who shares my birthday--talked to me on the phone this week and agrees.  The Bible is always fresh.  We are always learning something new.

I sent a donation to St. Jude, Wounded Warriors and a few other charities in December, and now, every charitable organization in America has my name and address.  I’m sure charities make money for their cause by selling lists of their donators.

The waste of stamps and paper is unbelievable.  And if this year is like last year, I’ll get mail from everyone of them for twelve months--even though I always do donations in December, and have been doing that for over twenty years.  You would think they would get it.  No.  Kill a tree to make paper.  Sending paper requests that I don’t even open until December. 

With the price of gas rising, maybe people will start car-pooling again.  During WWII, if you didn’t have at least five people in the car with you, something was wrong.  Everybody pooled.

Every day at 3:30, the street next to me is blocked for a mile by moms coming to the school to pick up their kids.  One mom, one kid, one car.  All cars idling and burning gas.  I don’t remember anyone ever--ever--picking up anyone at school when I grew up.  We walked.

Times have changed.  I doubt there is a family in America with a car pool to pick up the kids on their block.  Maybe when gas hits ten dollars a gallon it will be something to think about.  Today’s families probably haven’t ever had a car pool for anything.  Everyone has their own car.... 

 On Friday, I am always late posting because I set my alarm for 7:30, Ann picks me up at 8:00 for breakfast, and she likes to do the garage sales (and I like to go with her as long as she drives).  Then I get my hair done, get home in time to eat lunch, do the sudoku and crossword puzzle.  First things first.

My friend Rebecca Perkins lives in Dallas, and when I don’t post, she lets me know that I’ve slipped a cog and need to get busy typing.  But some days, I just can’t think of anything to write.  I lost a day this week and didn’t even know it.  I thought it was Wednesday and missed my Thursday appointment with my doctor.  It was four in the afternoon Thursday before I realized it wasn’t Wednesday.  Which means I missed teacher’s meeting on Wednesday night.  The doctor’s office wasn’t happy with me.

In my defense, there is no way to mark the days.  They run together.  I’m not going to school.  I'm not going to work.  Friends do my shopping most of the time.  I never liked to shop anyway.  But yesterday, as I was walking Squig, I saw a young girl in a house down the street--twenty five to thirty five years old (you can’t tell) and said I liked her side shaved hair cut.  She told her four children to watch the house and asked if she could walk around the block with me. Which she did!  You never know what a day will bring. I met a new neighbor.  That is a good thing.

There is no “White Out” liquid anywhere.  Even Amazon can’t get it.  So...I bought the roll-on white tape, and at first try, all the white crumbled like chalk.  I bet it had been sitting on Office Depot’s shelf for a zillion years.

I can’t do my puzzles without the liquid stuff, because I use a pen and not a pencil.  Ken always said that you should use a pen...so I always did.  I finally asked him why (?) and he said it makes you more exact in what you do.  You will make fewer mistakes.    

As a result, I seldom need white out, but when I do, I want the liquid.  Using a roll on over a little square in the newspaper is impossible.

My friend Jeanette told me that Amazon has a liquid substitute--she ordered it for me and it will be here Monday.  That means I can’t make any mistakes on paper between now and then.

I need to apply all of that to life. (Be more exact)  Like trying to do two things at once.  I’ve broken two Corning ware dishes lately trying to double up.  And cleaning up broken glass is awful.  Keeping Squig out of it while I clean it up is daunting.  The bending over is also awful.  And if I get down to do it, I can’t get up.  The tile kills my knees.  In other words, don’t depend on an eraser when you make a mistake.  Make fewer mistakes by taking a moment to think out what you are doing. 

The first step Biblically, was getting Israel back into their land.  The land God contracted for them.  If you want to read something interesting, read the “Left Behind” series.  They get a little “out there” at the end, but are interesting.  Reading Revelation and Daniel is difficult.  But needs to be done.  You get a super blessing from God for reading Revelation.

Getting their land back happened at the end of WWII.  The UN did something unprecedented--they voted that the Jews could go back to the place they originally came from.  They could reclaim Israel.  Jews who survived the Holocaust recreated their nation.

The next step...Well, I check the eastern sky every morning.  And with this thing in Ukraine, wars and rumors of wars seems imminent.  

I’ve never been an end-time alarmist.  I just know that the stage has been set.  Ken’s dad always said, “Israel is God’s time clock.  Watch Israel.

Israelites have turned out and gone into Ukraine in large numbers to help the Ukraine people.  Ukraine’s president is a Jew.  This is interesting.

I’m waiting and watching.

Monday came and went--and I went with it.  I had stored up a zillion chores to do during the ice.  I got my taxes mailed in.  That was number one.  Squig had missed his haircut because I couldn’t get out of the garage to take him there.  Ice doesn’t melt like snow.  It packs down.

The car needed gas.  I was out of cheese and tomatoes...etc, etc.  I was stuck in the house for six days in a row.

And when I don’t do things in the right order, they get forgotten.  I forgot to blog.  I couldn’t have done it anyway because my charging cord was cut and the curser was skipping around.

Today is a new day.  “This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it.”  Craig brought me a new charging cord.  He is stellar.   

I only have one appointment today.  I’m going to get myself back together.

My publisher has been communicating with me.  Which is encouraging.  It means someone out there hasn’t forgotten they are supposed to get a book out!  I called another publisher and they said, “Send us $3,500 and we will see what we can do.”  At least my publisher is paying me instead of the other way around.  Self publishing is expensive and I don’t have the patience to deal with it.  The whole experience has been daunting.