Posts Categorized: Joy

I Know You Must Be Wondering About … the NEW FRIDGE!!!

When we purchased the fridge, the Home Depot guy explained that they would deliver it and carry away the old one. They would also hook up the water line for the ice maker … if it was a plastic line and not copper. Hmmmm.

the water tube, all new and ready to be attached

the water tube, all new and ready to be attached

Of course it was copper. I called Kenny, the plumber. Kenny is an independent plumber and the only phone number is the home phone, so I (and others) call and leave a message. I called. The answering message said that Kenny would be unavailable until the 17th. No good, as the refrigerator would be delivered on the 14. So I called another plumber that I’d used years and years ago (but liked, and they came right away). The lady who answered the phone, in response to my, “I need some plumbing work done,” said, “Oh, he’s got the people out at a construction site.” “How long,” I asked. “Oh, for about a month.” Hmmm. So, I had to call a stranger, who did come and did look at things, and did go back and get plastic tubing, and did replace the thing.

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Breaking News!

This just in from Waco, Texas. Long-time resident, Gayle Lintz, reports that, Tuesday, late afternoon, she went to her kitchen to prepare a dinner-time meal for her husband.

“I was planning to attend my Knitting Group’s meeting at 5:00. I opened the freezer section of my refrigerator and reached in for a frozen chicken breast to heat up for him to eat when he got home. My hand touched a freezer-weight zip-locking bag of previously sauteed onions and peppers. It was soft. Next to that was a bag that held some leftover spaghetti in marinara sauce that had unexpectedly begun to smell, far sooner than it should have. My husband had bagged it up and put it in the freezer until trash day. (It smelled that bad). It was absolutely squishy. Homemade popsicles that I had made for my grandson had turned back into apple juice.”

The ice maker with the ho-hum, maybe I will, maybe I won't attitude

The ice maker with the ho-hum, maybe I will, maybe I won’t attitude

Mrs. Lintz says that, a couple of weeks earlier, the ice maker had stopped making ice.

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Summer Reading

IMG_8132My daughter-in-law Sarah talked books with me back in the spring. She brought a couple of books for me to read, when we were both in Tennessee in May. Then, a few weeks later, I got a heavy box in the mail, with postage of $4.72. I mail packages all the time from here to New York, to California, and nothing goes for $4.72, especially not something heavy. So, it must be BOOK RATE!!!! It was, indeed, books.

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I Recycle-All Sorts of Things

Our recycling day is Monday, when we put out our blue bin with cardboard, plastics, newspapers, etc. Or, on alternate weeks, the green bin, with yard waste.

Today, I’m recycling a manuscript.

A couple, or so, years ago, our Associate Pastor at church, Mary Alice, asked some church members to submit devotions for a booklet she wanted to put together for our church members, especially those who were on teams going on mission trips. Her plan was that we would all be reading the same words, whether at home in Waco, on vacations, or in China or Lebanon.It would be a bonding experience for us all. She enlisted some of us to write and gave each of us the theme and a Scripture reference. We wrote, sent our words to her, and she edited and compiled them all into a booklet. The response was positive, so she kept on doing it. Now, we do them for Advent and Lent and for the summer mission trips (which, this year, included China, Lebanon, South Texas, and many missions-related trips individuals and families made, all over the place).

There are, as you might imagine, deadlines for the submissions of these things, and I’m always pretty close to getting them in on time. I asked once if anyone was responsible and got them to her early, or did everyone else skid in just under the wire (or a little beyond the wire), like I did. “Oh, I do what most of my seminary professors did,” she said. “I set the deadline a little bit before I really need them, to give me some wiggle room.” Possibly not a good thing to admit, but there you go. And possibly not the sort of thing to tell me, who is now exposing it to all sorts of people. Anyway …

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Strawberry Shortcake for Dinner

Here’s how the story starts: I was at my sister, JoAnne’s, one July 4th. In the afternoon, after a traditional

a traditional strawberry shortcake, Mom Goodwin-style

a traditional strawberry shortcake, Mom Goodwin-style

Fourth lunch of burgers and hotdogs with her family, she said, “I think we should have Strawberry Shortcake for dinner, just like Mom Goodwin used to make.”

“What?!?!?” I didn’t recall any such tradition. Our dad grew up in northwestern Ohio, in Wauseon. We would go, every two or three years, for a summertime visit. We’d stay for a couple of weeks, but I didn’t remember ever being there on Independence Day, and I certainly never heard about having Strawberry Shortcake for dinner. Ever. So, she told me how she learned about it.

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Mr. Stevenson Had a Shadow. Mine’s a Little Different.

I had a copy of Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses when I was a kid, and I remember reading the poem “My Shadow.” It must have made a great impression on me, because I can still recite the first two lines. (Okay, maybe not all that impressive, but I do remember what the poem was about.)  It came to mind this week, as Peter’s here. So, I reworked the poem to describe my shadow.

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There Were Friends. And There Was Fun!

 

It was Fun with Friends, and it was very good.

I’ve spent each evening this week at church, with the little kids (Pre-K’s and Kindergarteners). The first through sixth graders were having Music Camp, and we were having Fun with Friends. Literally. We did ART, and lots of it. Sunday was Collage Night. Monday was Drawing Night. Tuesday was Painting  Night. Wednesday was Printing Night. And Thursday was Sculpture Night. As usual, there was Tall Painting. And I was sure you’d want to see photos.

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I’ve Never Been Particularly Good at Knowing What Two-Year-Olds Are Thinking. Why Do I Keep Trying?

Left side opened w/car inside; right side closed w/car outside

Left side opened w/car inside; right side closed w/car outside

This is how our garage looked, all my growing up years in the house where we now live. Well, except for the cars. Not for the years and makes of them, but just the fact that they’re there. My Dad would get up each morning, open the garage door and go out to get the newspaper, and leave the door open. After he left for work, it stayed open, all day, as did most other garage doors on our block. He closed the door each evening after dinner. The right-hand door wasn’t opened very often, as there wasn’t a car there.

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Having to Spend Each Day the Color of the Leaves*

Years ago, I read books by Don Aslett, a man who grew a college cleaning job into a huge cleaning supply industry

Some choices from Home Depot

Some choices from Home Depot

and authored several books about housecleaning, starting a business, organizing, de-cluttering, writing, and public speaking. You can find some of his books in libraries, bookstores, and of course, on Amazon. In one book (and most likely some others), he talked about how much of modern life is overkill; we have, and consistently seek, more, more, more, and more. He specifically mentioned paint colors. And, most pointedly, green. He quoted a number (and I am so very sorry that I cannot recall what exactly it was, but it was HUGE, in the hundreds), of how many colors of green paint one could buy at a paint store. “You don’t need that many greens,” he said. “There aren’t that many greens.”

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Of Birds and Bees and Springtime

So long, lavender sweater. See you next fall.

So long, lavender sweater. See you next fall.

It was chilly, early last week, and I wore my lavender sweater one more time before washing it and putting it away. My favorite sweater, I’ve had it for years (and will have it for as many more years as it can take it). I’ve surrendered to the fact that spring is really here.

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