SNOW

SERIOUSLY. REALSNOW!!! Not crappy pretend Texas snow. Real, true, like Colorodo snow!!! It's awesome that I didn't get to put outside pics up yesterday because now I can show you my house with SNOW!!!! And a few pics of the church! Just as soon as I figure out how... lol. I actually do know how, but you have to do it one at a time on blogger and I could do multiple on Word, but Word failed me because the pics didn't translate to blogger.

My House

*************UPDATE!!!!!!! So I did my best, and it's still a little janky looking, but I promise to do better on the outside and the rest!!!********************


OK, so I have this great idea. I'm gonna show you around my house. You saw my cool trick in my baking drawer. I'm gonna show you some other cool tricks, and also the decorating I've done. I really like decorating and I like how my house is coming! I'd like it better if I could paint, and I could, I'd just have to paint it back and that's expensive and a lot of work! AND there will be proof that my house was clean, once, AND you'll see the difference my shelves make! I meant to start this "series" with a bang and show you the outside and floor plan today, but by the time I got around to it, it was too dark to take pictures and I can't find my old floor plans and don't feel like making a new one right now. SO, I will begin with the inside! I'm analytical anyways, lol. Here is my dining room and kitchen, with commentary! Please do not judge my lack of photographic abilities! 

The front door is there on the left. This is the hutch that belonged to my Daddy's Momma and then to my Aunt Sandy, who gave it to me. The angel on the top my came from my Daddy's Momma, too. On top is candles and the cake topper from our wedding, and the book, sand, and flowers are from our wedding, also. The pictures are pictures of us from UMHB, the yellow plate I made at U-Paint-It when I graduated, the blue paint is my china, and there's the silver bread thingy, the Willow Trees, and the hydrangea wreath thingy my Momma got me. In the drawers are gift-wrapping items and piano books.

These are the drapes from my second dorm room in college. The rod is new, because the old one that looked almost exactly like it flew out of my brother's truck last time we moved. Hanging between them are folded white squares a family friend bought and painted cute little dolls doing chores.

 

Here's what the room looks like as a whole. Sorry about the terrible flash that hurts your eyes. The hutch is barely visible there on the left and you can see how we have the vaulted ceilings and where the dining room meets the kitchen. The table is the same as the hutch; they are a set. There are only 5 chairs, so sitting against the wall is the hope chest my Grandby gave me. It's sturdy enough to sit on and hanging above it is a sort of "back" made out of fabric wrapped fabric bolts. I made them in our last apartment to serve as a wall-hanging above the table, which was pushed up against the wall, but I like this much better. There are two more bolts that were blue and white plaid (I guess that's how to describe the pattern) but I decided it was too busy and Momma thought it was too wide. Robert is making me two twin shelving units to go against the wall to display some of my antique china and some other things. When those are finished, I'll have to move the two pictures closer together and I'm going to put up a long glass shelf above all of it. I might re-cover the other two bolts then and hang them beside the yellow and blue toile ones. The yellow and blue toile is the same on the chairs. These are close ups of the two pictures. They are a little blurry…sorry.

 

 

 

 

 

This is the table on the left looking over the bar into the kitchen. And above here is a close up of the bar stool seats. They used to be just ugly fake wood looking and had bad, bad fabric on the seats. I spray-painted them (with my brother's help) and Daddy and I tightened and put in new screws to hold them together better. And I used the fabric above to fix the seats! I really like the fabric, especially in my yellow and blue toile room! Plus, this shows you why I chose to do the kitchen and dining room together, so on to the kitchen.

Here is the bar looking at my Italian scene picture. Microwave on the counter and refrigerator in the background.

 






Here's the close up of my microwave. I love it! 
It's RED!



 
 

 
     

        These are antique pots my Momma gave me and they look so cute hanging on the wall!


 

 
 
This is the top of the refrigerator. The green glass bowl came from Robert's grandmother.

The apple came from his mom, the chicken from my Daddy's Momma and the sifter fromNana, my Momma's Momma's Momma.

 


This is above my sink. It's a window! The curtains match what's hanging between the blue drapes on the opposite side of the room in the dining room!




 


Here is my amazing RED mixer my Grandby gave me and canisters full of baking things.

Can you believe how much counter space I have?

        

Above the stove (bad, bad picture, cute, cute ideas).

  
My husband cooking breakfast for supper and my cute utensil holder.



                       

 This thing used to be in my room when I was little. It makes a great place to put our toaster oven and it storage!

 These are erving utensils and chopsticks that my friend brought back from a mission trip!!!

                       
 And the square below has a sad story… 

It's just a glass plate, but my Momma covered it with broken china. We bought antique salt and pepper shakers.


They were red and pretty and we were shocked to find them, and fairly cheap. We triumphantly brought them home, but my brother's friend accidentally dropped them. I was so upset, Momma saved the pieces and used them for this and another project you have yet to see!

Really, I'm not Hiding

I'm just having trouble getting back into the swing of things. Plus, I'm super busy trying to get my house clean. I hate the cycle I get into of super cleaning, tired of cleaning and do nothing or the bare minimum, house gets really messy, super cleaning, and you see how it goes...

Hiding

I suddenly realized a couple days ago that I have been hiding from the world. I'd kinda thought about it, but I didn't seriously consider it till then. And things have happened that I thought, hmm, that'd make a good blog post, but I haven't done them. So here it is. My re-entry into the blog/facebook world. I've spent the last hour or so catching up on other people's blogs and am down to Big Mama (which will take a while, she's quite the consistent poster!) Two Shades of Pink and Bring the Rain (I'm not really sure how long the last two will take). It will probably take me awhile to get back into the swing of things, but here goes! (Are you happy now, Melissa? : ) )

Part 2

And now, part 2. The second part. : )
 
    Katherine O'Hara watched as the hammocks were lowered into the sea. Her ma was in one of them. During that last storm, when seasickness had raged through the steerage, her mother, who had contracted pneumonia even before the ship had left the harbor, had taken her last breath. Pneumonia and the sea was a fatal mix to be sure. Not that her ma had shown much will to live anyways. After Da died, Ma was just never the same. She had no fight left in her. Death was so cruel. And to be orphaned, an only child, on the way to a new country, at 10 years old. No mother, no father, no brothers, no sisters, no nothing except ocean, and a frightening new country. Life was so cruel.

    "Katie, dearie! You must wake up! You don't want to miss your train, now do you?" Jerked out of her dream by the open curtains and kind, motherly voice, Katie sleepily wiped the tears off her face.     "Ah, dear. When will the dreams stop? It's been fifteen years!"

    "They donna come so often now. Only when life gets ta scarin' me. An' when I wake up, I remember that Jesus saved me soul, an' 'e's in charge of it all." Both women's accent fit her background well. While Katie's every fiber screamed 'Irish', her counterpart and fill-in mother since that dreadful day at sea, was a common Englishwoman to the core. Fifteen years in America should have lessened Katie's brogue, even Mary had begun to speak like their American neighbors, but Katie purposely held on to her accent as her last link to her parents.

    Ach, how Aye'm agonna miss 'er when she's gone! Not that Aye don't 'ave plenty others ta look after. And Aye thank Thee, Lord, for every last one o' them, but, Lord, she's the 'ole reason Aye began this orphanage! Aye don't guess that's true, is it? You gave me this idea long before she ever came along. An' it took me losin' me own babies, an' 'er losin' 'er Mother an' Father ta make me listen.

    "Miss Mary?" Katie paused, then sniffled. "Aye'm really gonna be missin' ya. Aye'll write ever' day. And pray fer ya and the babies ever' minute!"

    "Missy, Aye don't want ya thinkin' about your family here too much. You're gonna go be a bride, and you'll need to think about your husband. Startin' a life with someone is hard enough when you know him and know how much he loves ya; startin' a life with a stranger…it will take everything ye've got to make it work. Thinkin' too much about us will only make you homesick and miserable."

    "I'm already homesick. How can a girl like me be going across the country? All I've seen of America in fifteen years was this city! I don't even think I've seen all of New York! What was I thinking signing up to go to Texas?!"

    "You were thinking that you were wanting a husband, and God wasn't giving you one here. You were thinking that, after much prayer, this is the answer that came. You were thinking that this was the best way to break from us and marry a man who will be able to take care of you, and not some man that will work in a God-awful factory his whole life and never make a cent! You were thinking good when you decided all this, and I don't want to hear another negative word out of you! You can't change your mind now, love, so get up, get dressed, and finish your packing. I think I can manage breakfast without you today; I suppose I'll need the practice!"

    Mary's harsh and loving words were what Katie needed to hear. Katie knew Mary was hiding her own pain in anger and the words spurred Katie into action.

To be continued... At some point in the hopefully not too distant future...

Part 1

This is, as it is titled, Part 1. The first half of the prologue. I certainly don't want false encouragement, but if you do have something nice to say, please say it! It's really scary to me to have this out here, floating around cyber space! To separate the story from the rambling, I put it in the typewritery font. It's been a really long time since I actually used a typewriter. I used to use one all the time at Carmen's desk. (The Elementary principal, aka my grandmother, had a secretary named Carment Who had a typewriter. Which I enjoyed playing with.)

    Daniel Abraham Brown. A good, strong name for a good, strong man, mother always said. It was true, too. Until the tragedy, at least. Honorable discharge from the Rangers. What could be worse? Why couldn't that Comanche arrow have just killed me? Instead, it destroyed my elbow. They took my arm! Daniel thought these thoughts as he lay in a bed in San Antonio, Texas, unable to leave. His lost arm troubled him, for reasons he couldn't explain. He didn't realize that his dreams, his every want had depended on him being a whole man. Not a cripple. Now he thought he was useless. But of course, none of this ever occurred to him. That preacher, who has two arms, said this's a blessing in disguise. Blessing!? Blessing was not the word Daniel would've used, disguised or not.

    "Captain, as soon as you can travel, we've arranged for your passage home."

Dr. Houston began speaking as soon as he saw Daniel's open eyes.

    "How? On a horse?" Daniel snorted.

    "Well, nothing goes south of here. San Antonio's the end of the line. No one's even heard of Paloma Solitaria."

    "Of course no one's heard of it! I ain't made it into a real place yet! Gimme a horse and a pack horse, I can ride." I got to be able to ride! There's gotta be a way!

    "Your arm's not strong enough to ride, you can take a wagon. 'Sides, we're keeping you longer. Infection could set in, then what would you do?"

    "A wagon wouldn't make it into Paloma Solitaria! The brush is too thick; it'd take weeks longer to take the wagon trail!"

    "Alright, then you can wait until we've made arrangements for you to leave that way." The doctor thought he'd won; he could keep this cranky patient at least a little longer. He'd never let Daniel know, but he was extremely worried about infection. Daniel had been near death when he arrived.

    "I'd make my own arrangements if you'd let me out of this God-forsaken bed!" The bitterness was so apparent in Daniel's voice that Dr. Houston cringed.

    "Ah, yes, well, speakin' of God, that preacher's here to see you again." The preacher's arrival gave the doctor a welcome excuse to leave the room.

    As the preacher entered, he could hear Daniel shouting his refusal to see the preacher.

    "Good luck Parson, he's really bitter today!" the doctor said as he left the room.

    "Doc, you oughta know I don't need luck! I've got God on my side!"

    "Preacher, if I gotta hear that kinda stuff, ya might as well leave now!" Dan said loudly.

    "Captain, I have something I really think you'll wanna hear."

    "Yeah, well, what is it? Then you can leave."

    "Well, Captain, we've received word, and I was asked to share it with ya, and it's important. Well, uh, we got word that your mother is extremely ill, and her doctor said she's…"

    "Doctor? If they called the doctor, she's as good as dead! Since you seem to be the messenger boy 'round here, you can go tell everyone that I'm leavin' tomorrow."

    "Tomorrow?"

    "Yeah, tomorrow! Now leave me alone, I gotta think!"

    "You need more'n thinkin', you need to rely on God ta get ya through this. You got nothin' ta go home to. Do ya want your dyin' mother ta see ya like this? She's better off rememb'rin' you as ya rode off ta join the Rangers!" By the time the preacher was finished, Daniel was sobbing; he knew what the preacher meant. He wasn't talking about his arm at all, but his attitude.

    "Preacher, I made Jesus my Savior a long, long time ago, but I never did make Him Lord. I never got that peace my momma has. If she saw me now…you're right. I shouldn't go home…Not like this."

    "You can get that peace. Boy, all ya gotta do is make Him Lord, too!"

    "I've made such a mess of things! I just don't think I can just let go now!"

    "Yore right. Ya can't. Not in your own strength, ya cain't. But you've already made him Savior; it's not hard to do the rest now!"

To be continued... : )

Scary, Scary, Scary

I want to do something kinda scary. Somewhere there about high school, I got an idea for a story. It's not an incredibly origional idea, but it's something I'd read (if it were well written). I've actually had quite a few ideas, but that's such a digression right now.

Senior year, we had to write a story story, not an essay I mean, and I chose to kinda revise/rewrite/begin a prolouge to this story floating around in my head. My teacher said she liked it and certainly wanted to read the rest of it, which was, you know, just floating in my head, and I'm fairly certain I got a 100 on it even though just now when I was editing it, I found a grammatical error. Just one, though.

Anyways, I was thinking about "publishing" it on here in two parts and then more as I write it. You know, because I have lots of time to write a story right now with a dirty, un-Christmas decorated (except the outside) house with less than half my Christmas presents actually made and throw some travel in, and, oh yeah, I have a job.

(Can you see what a miracle it is that there was only one grammatical error?)

So, I'm going to schedule the story in 2 parts across the next 2 days because hopefully I'll spend the next 2 days doing important Christmasy (and maybe some not Christmasy) things. Like clean house. And finish Christmas presents. Cuz, did you know, it's already December?! (BTW, sorry I forgot, but Happy Birthday, Rita! I actually knew, but didn't wanna mention it yesterday.) And like, almost Christmas already?! Time flies, ya'll, time flies.

My Healing Nose

Rita, I know you are a faithful reader, but I just want to warn you, this post might be cathartic or you might just not want to read it. Fair warning. Love you.

So last Thursday, in my haste to get up and ready to go see my Aunt Sandy, I scratched my nose. Not the top part, either. Underneath, where my nostril is. With my engagement ring. (It sounds funny to say engagement ring now that I'm married, but I'm pretty sure you still call it that...) It hurt, but I kinda just ignored it. Until later when I was bawling uncontrollably and wiped my nose.

I was able to ignore it most of the time, unless I was crying and wiping my nose, which has been happening, but not constantly or anything.

And then today.

When I spent a good part of the day crying again. And my nose hurt all over again.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

It's a metaphor. I like metaphors.

I can be going through my day and be OK and then, suddenly, something will trigger the tears. And then I wipe my nose. And the pain in my nose reflects my heart.

My nose is already starting to heal and I'm sure will be pain-free soon. And I know that right now Sandy is healed and pain-free. So I'm waiting for my heart to heal, too. Today was a good step in that direction.

Thanks for your prayers. Please continue to pray.

Tomorrow

It's about 10:00 pm as I begin this and I'm not really sure where to start. I guess what I really want to say is Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, my Aunt Sandy went to be with her parents and the Lord. The funeral is tomorrow at 10:00 am, which means the goal is for Momma, Daddy, and Corb to be here at 5:00 so we can all get in my car and go. I still need to pack for the car ride, decide what to wear (has to be something that goes with my red coat because it's supposed to be freezing) at the funeral, pack it and my makeup, decide what to wear for the ride and set it out (unless I decide to just wear what I'm wearing tonight as PJs, which is a serious possibility). Anyways, my family, especially Kip and Rita, could really use some prayer tomorrow.

And, I got this in an e-mail today and thought I'd share it because it looked cool.

Shocking, Isn’t It?

I'm not really sure if you could understand this between all the freak out yesterday, but we went to see my Aunt Sandy yesterday. She and her husband live on a ranch in South Texas. Among other things, he breaks horses. At one point, I needed to take a walk and Robert went with me. We ended up down by the horse barn. Robert wanted to pet the corralled horse, so he tried to call it over. It was acting a little leery so Robert leaned up against the fence with his arms crossed on the top trying to coax it closer. All of a sudden, I noticed that the top wire wasn't like the other wires and there was a battery pack sitting on the ground. I said, "Hey, baby, be careful. I think that top wire is…" and right then, the five-second delay was up and he was electrocuted.

Luckily, he was wearing his (p)leather jacket and the wire was only touching his hand in one little spot. He really wasn't shocked that badly. And, thank goodness, it wasn't me because I have a heart murmur and am not supposed to get shocked. Not that anyone is really supposed to, but… Anyways, that is the one story from yesterday I am ready to share. The rest will probably come eventually.

Word

It occurred to me a long time ago that it would be so much easier to type my blog posts, particularly the ones that because of length or topic I don't want to have to edit, in Word. And, also, because I never actually have to hit "shift" when I want to use the letter "I" in Word. It's just smart like that. I've tried to do a little copy and paste number, but it never quite works out and it ends up that instead of not having to really edit it so much I have to just go ahead and retype it all. Great fun. So, through a little trial and error and exploration, The Age-Old Metaphor and this post were both typed with Word's blog post program thingy. Official name, you know. We'll see how it works out!

The Age-Old Metaphor

We went to see my Aunt Sandy today. (The link has not been updated in a long time.) She's not doing well at all. And it made me very sad. So sad, that I really can't talk (or type? I can never decide…) about it right now because I've just gotten some semblance of control over myself. Instead, I'm going to talk about something funny that lead to a rather deep (OK, deep might be an exaggeration) thought because that way I can actually sleep tonight. And not use our entire supply of toilet paper as tissues. (Is it just me or do I exaggerate more when I'm trying not to be upset?)

This morning we were leaving our house to go pick up my parents. (Which isn't really true considering my daddy drove after we got there but the point is we went from our house to their house in our car so we could all go to South Texas in our car.) (Which is a whole 'nother story about acquiring 2 new tires for my car. It has 17" rims. Apparently, that's an odd size. And they are the ones that came on the car! On a Sunday, no less, when most tire places are closed. But 5 miles a gallon better than Momma's, we all fit, and it really, REALLY needed new tires anyways so we got it done.) And, in my head, I just had this picture of what would happen if my life were a movie. The scene would suddenly shift from us riding in the car, go back to our house, and dramatically picture, well, something in particular, but it would be way too complicated to explain.

I was already working myself into an upset but desperately trying not to and the whole imagining my life as a movie thing made me laugh. On the inside at least. But later on, I started really thinking about the age-old metaphor of "what if life was really just like making a movie?" And not just because of how sad I am about my Aunt Sandy. That is part of it. But my use of the age-old metaphor wasn't just talking about that. And I suppose it isn't really the age-old metaphor because movies haven't been around that long, but it is a little overused. Trust me; I won't be offended if you stop here. In fact, I won't even know. Big Brother hasn't quite leaked that technology yet.

The main thing I was thinking was that it would be awesome if at certain points in life, you could just yell, "CUT! That was great in theory, but didn't work out in actual execution. REWRITE!" Or "CUT! People just didn't take that the way it was intended. Do it over." Or, my word, just "CUT! 5 minute recess!" (I've been watching JAG, can you tell?) Really, I'd be happy with just the last one. OK, not really, but do you ever feel like you'd like a little 5 minute break where you can step back and not just not think about issues/problems/etc. but for them to actually not exist for 5 minutes just to get your equilibrium back? Maybe it's just me.

And I know I should carry this metaphor all the way through and then God becomes the director and the screenwriter and then there is no "CUT! REWRITE!" because God doesn't make mistakes and really the problem is in free will when we actors start adlibbing and screw it all up without the possibility of a retake.

I'm being a little petulant now and I know it, so I'm going to stop. I don't have to worry about taking care of Aunt Sandy on a daily basis. Kip and Rita do that. I can come back home and get busy and push it away for a while and they can't. And my other little daily problems aren't nearly as taxing as theirs are right now so I know I need to stop and I promise I'm almost done now.

Maybe I'll make it my (non-existant) New Year's Resolution to work on concluding my posts better. I don't have anything profound or that really wraps it up, but I think this will suffice.

END SCENE!

Opinions?

So I LOVE my blog's design. I spent many an hour fixing it up at first. It even involved downloading a free Photoshop like program to use that little dropper tool and match exact colors and get my name on the header just so and using an html color code to get the words the perfect colors. Serious stuff. And all that hard work makes me just love it. It makes me happy to post and see my words appear on such a lovely background.

BUT...

I saw a new backgroud today and really like it.  And I could do something very similar but get a new color scheme going on. And maybe use one of these cute headers!

Or not.

Feel free to chime in.





By the way, I got pretty much all of my pre-party to do things done. I need to fix the office curtains and re-cover a recliner and then I will have done everything I can do without going to buy more stuff or getting my Daddy or husband involved. Consider yourselves warned, guys!

Stuff...

So I lied. I did not in fact chronicle the making of the second stool. It's all screwed together and mostly painted, though. My momma had her gall bladder removed yesterday. She went home last night and is doing really good. Taking the painkillers consistently, but took a shower and made a few "laps" around the inside of the house and even is eating.

I'm very tired and considering I'm having a party this weekend, I should really go clean something.

I'll probably just go watch Bones.

Transformers 2

Uh, yeah, AWESOME! Not sure it was as good as number 1, but didn't bomb miserably like many sequels, Pirates of the Caribbean's sequel for instance. Here's my "review" lol. I'm not giving anything away, so don't be afraid to read it!

1. How, how, did that girl keep those white pants so clean. SERIOUSLY. I can't even keep a white shirt clean for 5 minutes in surburban America. Much less a desert in Eygpt.
2. It's always a little confusing who is who during an Autobot/Decepticon battle, but at the very end it was really hard. I mean Autobots are good guys and have color. Decepticons are bad guys and are pointy and only metal colored. But the last battle of this movie: confusing.
3. What happened to the little guy after they got to Petra? Which is totally in The Last Crusade. I thought about the big door thing when I saw it in that movie.
   
4. I really like the implication that Bush was concerned enough with national and world wide safety to have the Autobots on our side and trust the military to handle them and Obama sent the bureaucracy that had no clue what was going on to deal with them and send them away. And what happened to him? TOO FUNNY. Take care of the VIP. LOL

Completely unrelated to the movie, I am writing this post sitting on my new bar stool! I took them from my Momma. And did a lot of work to this one and need to do a lot of work on the other one! However, I think I'm coming down with painter's finger. It's like (OK I couldn't think of anything. It's kinda like a blister or something that makes things feel really weird) only paintier. ("And I think I'm coming down with swipe wrist. It's like carpel tunnel only swipier.") I really want to to document the process on the next one but I already covered both seats so you won't get to see the creepy bunnies with the veggies or, what I found underneath it, a pink shiny fabric with stripes. Trust me, whatever you're imagining, it's worse.


I'm off to admire my new barstools some more. And watch the Girls.




"Pedro's friends talked in code?" "Well, Spanish, technically, but same difference."


"Yeah, well, live and learn. Like now I know not to drink the water in Mexico, which, by the way, somebody should really tell you. And I learned I'm not morally against murder, I just wish I had the guts to do it."

Bones

OK so I just found out someone who doesn't know me is reading my blog. It puts a weird different pressure on this whole blog thing. Maybe not pressure. That's too strong of a word. But always before I've just written and known those who know me love me anyways if what I write stinks and makes no sense and, besides, if they know me, they can probably make sense of what I wrote. Now I have to stop myself from over-explaining. (I know. It's totally shocking that up till now I haven't felt I was over explaining.)

The point is, (sorta) thank you, Brenda.


(Pretend there's a segue here.) : )

I'm so into the show Bones right now. I'm almost done with season 3. I'm not really sure what about it reels me in, but I can't seem to get enough of it! I have begun quoting the show. That's when I know it's a good one. I really, really, REALLY enjoyed the whole Sith Lord thing. "There's always two. A master and an apprentice."(look, I figured out how to spell it! lol) And then "Dude, did you just Star Wars us?" SO FUNNY!!!

I think my favorite quote just might be when Bones said to Booth "Can't you just be satisfied that if I'm wrong about God I'll burn in hell?" If you're not a fan, here's where I make that make sense. Temperance Brennan is a forensic anthropologist which basically means she looks at people's bones (hence the nickname) and can figure out how they lived and died. She uses her skills as a liason to the FBI, helping them solve cases where a normal autopsy wouldn't answer questions. Bones is also an atheist. She believes only in what she can empiracally prove with science. Her FBI partner, Special Agent Sealy Booth, is a Catholic. He seems to be a practicing Catholic, he's shown praying and once said he goes to mass every Sunday, but he also is a little promiscious. Here's where I'm going. Bones and Booth constantly argue about the validity of Christianity (or any religion, but they mostly talk about Christianity because Booth is Catholic) and at one point Bones says, "Can't you just be satisfied that if I'm wrong about God I'll burn in hell?"


I laughed.

I thought, and still think, it's hilarious.

But it got me thinking, too.

Yes, it's important to tell others about Christ, to share His love. (And, you know, save them from burning in hell...) It just doesn't work, though, to badger someone into Christianity.

It doesn't totally translate from their situation, but I think the point works.


And, as I'm somewhere between tired and punchy right now, I'm leaving you to figure out your own conclusion. : )


  

Apparently...

I'm not the only Branalyn out there. There's also someone named Branalyn Williams who's done a lot of scientific stuff with the CDC (and I don't think they mean Child Development Center) and a few other random Branalyns out there. One, on myspace, goes by Brandie. It might be easier, but it's weird to me someone would shorten Branalyn to Brandie. I'm kinda sad I'm not the only one out there... But at the same time it could be cool to know someone else named my name. I do, however, like knowing that when someone says my name (talking to me or about me lol) it pretty much means me. There's not confusion or need to use last names.OK, I've moved on into the rambling now...

 

Remember When I Said I Was the Village Idiot?

I locked myself out on my balcony and no one was home.

Oh yeah.

I'm serious.

No phone, no keys.

Dressed in a pair of shorts and cami.

Armed with a coffee filter and Windex.

Can't McGyver much out of that.

So, it's the first cold night this fall. I decide to wash the inside and out of my sliding glass doors. I'm dressed like white trash on a stick in cleaning clothes-shorts from high school that are really short and barely fit and a cami. Not exactly fall clothing. On a night we actually have fall weather. I wash the sliding part of the door and close it to wash the other side. AND THE BAR SLAMS DOWN!!! Don't ask me how it happened. Don't ask me how any of the stupid stuff happens to me. I'm just the village idiot. There's no other explanation.

Let me tell you, those anti-burglary bar thingies really work. Now I'm stuck outside with no phone or keys, upstairs on a balcony where the only option of getting down is jumping or breaking the door. I figured breaking the door was stupid because it's really late Friday night and wouldn't be fixed all weekend, not to mention being really expensive. And jumping would be even more expensive because I would so just happen to land on a tree stump or something that would break my leg or impale me. I have a reputation, ya'll.

I'm now left with the final option of waiting. Several scenarios would've worked out: 1. My brother or friend, both of which have keys, happen to let themselves in and see me out there. 2. My husband comes home from work early and sees me out there (which just occurred to me now, he didn't have a key. He gave it to my brother this morning. I was supposed to make him a key on the way home from work but the traffic sucked because of Obama and I didn't.) 3. Some random person walks by and sees me out there and lets me use their phone.

What happened was a modified version of number 3. Some old man was walking outside and I got his attention. I figured maybe he was a nice old man that would be gentlemanly and help me. And if he wasn't nice and was a bad guy, he probably couldn't get to me and I could totally take him if he could. I told him I was locked out and needed to call someone. He said he wasn't sure who I could call. I said I had family who had a key I just needed to make the call. He can't understand me and won't come closer but he went and knocked on his neighbor's door. After what seemed like forever, the neighbor, a young guy, comes out. He comes up to me and asks what happened because the old man was apparently very confused. I tell him and he runs back to get his phone. He climbs halfway up and gives me his phone, yelling instructions on how to use it as I call what I think is my brother's number and get a very confused, old, Latino lady. Then I call my momma's number praying she's awake and answers.

She does and I tell her I'm locked out and my brother and friend have keys and ask her to please send one to the rescue. She sends my brother and I throw (yes, throw, he insisted it would be alright and he did actually catch it) the phone back to the guy. He asks if I need anything else and I consider asking him to help me get down because he had gotten halfway up and I thought maybe he could get me down. But then I decided he was obviously athletic and there was no way I could take him if he turned out to be some sort of rapist.

Now my parents live at least15 minutes away, so I continued my wait. Of course about this time I had to pee but could do nothing but wait. I contemplate that either 1. the guy really is a rapist because he has no friends or 2. the guy is a really nice guy because he didn't call his friends to come laugh at me. I also realize that my brother's gonna get here and not know where I am because I'm on the balcony and not waiting out front and I really wasn't sure if I'd communicated that. But, he decides to come in just in case I had gotten in, thank God. So, he walks in calling my name and I knock on the sliding glass door. From the outside. We both bust up laughing and he lets me in.

Finally inside, I peed, put on a hoodie, got a drink of water, and made my brother go with me to thank the I-hope-he's-not-a-rapist guy, who had periodically checked on me and I wanted to know it was all resolved and he wasn't devising a scheme to rape me, or, you know, was worried about me and calling the cops or something.

As I picked up my own phone, I had two missed calls and a text message, which proved I'd been out there for a little over an hour.

So, the village idiot's lessons for the day: 1. It's wonderful to live near family. And 2. Thank God. He orchastrated the events to let my brother have a key today of all days and to let me get access to a phone. And I did not freeze to death out there!

: )

By the way, getting locked out totally cut into my cleaning time. Plus, you know, blogging about it. But my deadline is approaching and my house is getting better and better!

 

Day Trip

8 hours in the car is too much. Even when it's 4 and 4.

It was a short trip.  We saw my aunt Sandy, who is doing better than she has been recently, but is not doing well.  Please pray for her.

We saw some other family and then we headed back.

6 inches difference in the width of a vehicle matters.

I'm exausted and have to get up early again tomorrow. It's to go wedding dress shopping with my former roommate and wonderful friend. I know from prior experience that those days can be tiring. And, let's not forget, I seem to be havin a sleep deprivation problem this week. I'm a fan of at least 8 hours of sleep. I don't really want to admit this because I feel lazy admitting it, but I actually function much better with 9 hours.

I'm not even going to take the small amount of energy it takes to find my cute signature.

Good night.

It Is Finished

It's been a long time. I know. Really it has. And really it's because all my free time has been spent unpacking. Or at least most of it. Which brings me to the title of this post.

I AM DONE UNPACKING!!!!!!!

Really, ya'll. Done. There's a little bit of rearranging I want to do with some stuff. There's a WHOLE lot of decorating that needs to happen. There's certainly a ton of cleaning that needs to happen. But I am DONE unpacking!!!

And, just in case you couldn't tell, I'm super excited about that!

Especially since I invited a whole buncha people over on the 31st for a Reformation Day party. It was to give myself a deadline, and people let me tell you that it worked! At least for the unpacking part. The cleaning, decorating and baking/cooking part not so much yet.

So, now I'm off to the store to get a few things, including windsheild wiper fluid cuz I'm all out and there is probably very little I hate more than little spots of sap on my windsheild and I have been out of wiper fluid for days, and hopefully a curtain rod for the dining room and tassels for the lamp. After said tassels and curtain rod are bought, I am done with my "need" list. I know that tassels and curtain rods aren't truely needs, but what I mean is I'll have all my basic wants taken care of. The other things (mainly shelves for the dining room, like upright almost bookshelves, and shelves for the bedroom, like screw them to the wall shelves) I want will be expensive and require building and will have to wait. Oh and something to go on the wall above the toilet in the bathroom that is only a potty and shower to put things like extra toilet paper on. And a baby rose and 3 or 4 other plants. And possibly another roll or 2 of shelf liner. Oh, and... just kidding... because I can't think of any more...