Posts Categorized: Patience

What *Is* It About Outside!?!

I suppose there are little kids who don’t like to go outside. Most of the ones I know (or knew when they were little), very much do like to go outside. Or, sometimes they look out the window and just think they want to go outside. When they do get out there and it’s 105° or 25°, they want to come right back in. (Of course, the problem is that no parent or responsible caregiver is going to let them go out when it’s 105° or 25° so the kids keep on standing by the door wailing at the injustice of it all. And the parents/caregivers are pretty much wailing on the inside…at the injustice of it all.)

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Super This! Super That!


superbowl50I’m a Texas girl. I grew up with Friday Night Lights (before it was a book and a television program). Well, in Junior High, it was Thursday Afternoon Lights, but football mania is pretty strong here in Central Texas (and beyond). From my preschool days, Daddy listened to Baylor games on Saturday afternoons, until there was enough money for him to get season tickets. I went with him to a Baylor game just a couple of months before he passed away. And, of course, he watched Sunday afternoon professional games-mainly as a Cowboys fan. I remember the Ice Bowl (1967 NFL Championship Game-Packers vs. Cowboys). I remember when Dallas won its first Super Bowl (1972 Super Bowl VI-Cowboys vs. Dolphins). I remember lots of ups and downs and blowouts and squeekers. We watched games, but we didn’t, well, celebrate. There weren’t big listening or watch parties, and no friends were invited over for Super Bowl get-togethers. We were the quieter, less celebratory, fans.

So, I’ve never made football-shaped cookies, frosted in the colors of my favorite team. I actually have put Ro-tel tomatoes in melted Velveeta for cheese dip, but it was when the kids were home from school and their friends were coming over, for some other reason besides football. I’ve never purchased football-themed plates and cups and tablecloths. But, I’ve always enjoyed watching games, even when I didn’t care about the outcome.


I did look, with interest, at the Sunday paper’s ads and coupons a couple of weeks ago. There were recipes and suggestions and coupons for pizzas, and wing sauce, and pizza bites, and loaded potato skins, and chips, and so on. Interestingly, there were also coupons for Prevacid and Benefiber and Gas-X and Ex-Lax and Perdiem. In other words, “buy these foods and eat them and eat a lot of them, while you’re watching the Big Game,” and “we know that you’re going to need to buy these things a day or so after the Big Game, because you’ll have really messed up your digestive systems on Game Day.”

It seems somewhat honest, doesn’t it.

Last Sunday, there were coupons for special Game Day treats for your pets. I don’t really know what that means.

When we were first married, David was in the Air Force, and we were living several time zones away from Super Bowl game cities. And, back then, those Super Bowl games started at regular game times (well, what were regular game times back then, which was early afternoon). So, the games would be happening mid-morning Sunday, when we were in worship service. There was an Air Force colonel who had spent a lot of time on the flight lines, without ear protection, in the days when no one realized that could cause hearing loss. He wore hearing aids, which, back in the early 70’s, were somewhat larger than they are now. In the fall, there would be a lot of interest in this kind colonel, among the school-aged boys. Sometimes, one (or more) of them would find an opportunity to sit near him, or on the pew right beside him, during Sunday morning worship service. They had seen the things in his ears, and supposed that he might be using earphones connected to a radio, to listen to the Big Game (or to earlier, not quite as big, games). He was kind and gentle and really amused by this, and would never give anything away, pretending not to understand why he was so popular during football season.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

2 Timothy 4:7 (New Revised Standard Version)

January 29, 2012--April is finishing Waco's Miracle Match Marathon

January 29, 2012–April is finishing Waco’s Miracle Match Marathon

There are several biblical references to athletes and races. Some of them mention the training and the preparing and the winning. I like this one that talks about the satisfaction of competing in and completing a race. Some of our races are literal. Some are symbolic. I’ve stood at the end of a Marathon. No one I saw was unhappy that they weren’t first. They all seemed really gratified to cross that finish line. That’s how we should feel about all our challenges. We did our best. We finished. And maybe there were cookies.


Maybe I’m not Giving My Plants Enough Nourishment

I’ve mentioned the Sanseveria plant that I have in my bathroom. (One of my sisters-in-law says that sanseveria plants are the best plants for cleaning indoor air, to make it better for us to breathe.) I like them because they’re sturdy and put up with a lot of neglect. The one I have I bought at Walmart; it had three or four big leaves. The soil was pretty dry so I watered it. Immediately, a couple of new leaves popped up. I’ve had it for two or three years, and every couple of months, I think to myself when was the last time I watered that thing? And I give it some water, and it puts out two or three new leaves. I’m very fond of plants that behave like that. I think mine might be the sansevieria trifasciata nelsonii variety. (It looks like the first photo on this site.)

Recently, I began to fear that it’s becoming an Audrey-type plant (from Little Shop of Horrors) that becomes demanding, saying “FEED ME! FEED ME!” And that particular Audrey plant wants humans for lunch, so I’m glad that mine only appears to want my medications (Or, my toothbrush.) Here’s the story: Last week, I reached for the pill cutter box  which held a number of halves of pills that I take. (I’m cutting them in half on my physician’s instructions). It wasn’t in its space in the medicine cabinet.

The pill cutter box doesn’t have a latch on it. There’s a space for several pills/pill parts to stay, so I can cut one and have two days worth of pills/pill parts. Or, I can save a little time each night by cutting twenty or so at a time and keeping all the pieces in the pill cutter box. But the box doesn’t have a latch.

Yep, the evening after I had chopped up 10 or 15 pills and had 20 or 30 pill halves stored in the box, I must have knocked the pill cutter/storer box off the shelf when I was getting the toothpaste. IT HAS NO LATCH, so I suppose it opened right up and everything went careening down into the big green plant. I struggled to fish the little pill halves out from between the leaves. I tried leaning the plant over on its side and shaking out the pill halves that had slithered down into the deep center of the plant. Bad idea, as I hadn’t thought about watering the plant in a while and all the dirt was dry and flaky. I shook out more dirt than pills. I rescued as many as I could, but I have a feeling that there may be a few more, way down in the center of the plant. The pills are good for me. They help control my blood sugar. I don’t know what they’ll do to a Sanseveria.

The new place for the pill cutter box in the medicine cabinet. This is the shelf with the Pepto tablets and the Mucinex pills. I don't use things from this shelf regularly, and certainly not daily, or a couple of times daily. I hope everything will be safe here.

The new place for the pill cutter box in the medicine cabinet. This is the shelf with the Pepto tablets and the Mucinex pills. I don’t use things from this shelf regularly. I hope everything will be safe here. And it *is* farther away from the tips of the leaves, that seem to be reaching, stretching, gaining ground


If you’re faithful in small-scale matters, you’ll be faithful with far bigger responsibilities. If you’re crooked in small responsibilities, you’ll be no different in bigger things.

Luke 16:10 (The Voice)

Hmmm. I fear that being irresponsible or negligent or inattentive in small, small matters, like little-bitty half-pills, might mean that I’m irresponsible or negligent or inattentive in larger things, like paying our taxes (which I am NOT). But maybe in other things, I could be, um, more focused, more intent in paying attention to a detail that seems irrelevant but might become significant. More intentional, more pro-active, more in-the-moment. Instead of thinking more about what I’m going to do next, becoming a more active part in what I’m doing at present.
Is it too late to make a New Year’s resolution?


Not Quite Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, But …

Trying to put together a family Christmas when three families are involved can be a challenge. Not quite as much of a challenge as some folks with several family members who are farther-flung that mine. We have a family of three who live a hundred miles away in Fort Worth, and a family of two who live in Brooklyn, and we two. We share the Brooklyn family with the rest of their family in southern California, And we share the Fort Worth family with a slew of siblings and parents and in-laws and grandparents, almost all of whom live in the Fort Worth area. So, only a little bit complicated.

Holiday treats were ready! Top to bottom--chocolate chip meringues, peppermint stick bark, peppermint M&M's bark (an experiment/tasty!), cookies w/chocolate chips, walnuts, and dried mulberries

Holiday treats were ready!
Top to bottom–chocolate chip meringues, peppermint stick bark, peppermint M&M’s bark (an experiment/tasty!), cookies w/chocolate chips, walnuts, and dried mulberries

This year’s plan was for the Fort Worth people to drive down first thing on December 26. The Brooklyn people were catching a plane at JFK first thing that morning, also. They would come on down from DFW by train to McGregor, a small town a few miles from us. David was really eager to take Peter to pick them up, because Peter loves trains.  Christmas dinner ingredients were in the cabinets and fridge, cookies were baked and pie fixins’ were ready to be put together and baked. A good solid plan.

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Who in Their Right Mind Would Go to the Grocery Store Three Days Before Christmas?!?

Note the late date of this e-mail, and the lack of suggested deadline for answers.

Note the late date of this e-mail, and the lack of suggested deadline for answers.

Who would do that? Well, maybe it would be someone who waited until the last minute to ask family members what specific kinds of food they want to have during the holidays. And, if someone is going to ask the question, then someone feels a little bit compelled to prepare/provide those foods. Since she asked. If she’d been thinking more clearly, she’d have asked weeks ago and given a deadline for responses, but alas, she did not.

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Weave, Weave, Weave Me the Sunshine Out of the Falling Rain*

We’ve had a lot of rain. Last Sunday set a new rainfall record for the date. And I hate to complain (and, really, I’m not complaining), because we just came through a pretty dry summer. After a really wet spring. Which led to problems with growing things. And, says the exterminator, an increase in vermin. But the much, much larger problem is this: we’ve not been able to do things with Peter that we’ve wanted to do.

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Ollie, Mollie, Gollie! NOW What?!?

I have a lot of doctors. A few, like the gastroenterologist and the cardiologist, are specialty guys that I only see for special occasions, like the super-special colonoscopy, and that sort of thing. Others, I see often enough that I ought to be sending them Christmas cards. There’s:

my Primary Care Physician (at least twice a year)

my Ophthalmologist (every 4 to 6 months)

my Retina Specialist (also every 4 to 6 months)

my Dentist (um, I really need to make an appointment)

the kidney guys (every 3 to 6 months)

and, my Podiatrist (every 3 to 6 months, unless …) And we have had a recent “unless.”

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Sew What?!?


I’ve mentioned before that my mother sewed for us. Some of that sewing was for Halloween.

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‘Tis the Season to . . . Get My Hopes Up

I was driving home a week or so ago, and I noticed some Halloween decorations in a yard in the next street over from us. I smiled to see several happy Jack-o-Lanterns on the lawn. They were created by using decorative trash bags that some company makes so people can fill the bags with the leaves from their trees, and have a low-cost source of holiday happiness that they can easily get rid of by dumping the leaves into their compost or their green recycling bins (or maybe putting them in the actual trash, but let’s don’t go there). I drove around the block and looked at them again. And I wondered, “Where’d they get the leaves to fill up those bags?”

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Attention Distraction Dis-whateveria

I was listening to a speaker (I think on PBS Ted Radio Hour) who was talking about a little girl, decades ago, who could not sit still in her chair at school. A specialist, after watching the child, from a distance, bounding and leaping and bouncing around his office, said to her mother, “She needs to move. Put her in dance class.” And the girl became a famous dancer and teacher of dance.

“It was before ADHD was invented,” the presenter said. “Before people knew they could have such a thing.”

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