One Size Fits All

I don’t fit. Or maybe it’s that things don’t fit me.  I’m a five-foot-twelve-inch (think about it) woman in a 5’6” woman’s world.  As I’ve mentioned before, I’m somewhat more comfortable talking with other woman sitting down together rather than standing in a group, since the latter arrangement has the conversation hovering several inches below my ears, and I find myself slumping a bit.

Shopping is a quite the challenge.  Once I walked into a retail store at the mall and asked if they had jeans with a 35” inseam, but the incredulous expression on the saleswoman’s face said it all.  Even the J.C.Penny’s

Let’s be offended.

Yes, let’s.  At least, most of us would be after reading this in a letter, even from a beloved teacher:

In other words…

“…For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.”

Revelation 4:11  Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

 

Is your religion a rabbit’s foot?

The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, Missouri, is a truly beautiful place, inside and out.  I love the antiquities area, as you can walk through ancient Egypt and gawk at the real-live (pardon the pun) mummy.  I especially appreciate the artwork from the days of the early church.  In one glassed-in case resides a “reliquary”, a silver ornate depository of some sainted person’s finger bone, or so they say.  Who “they” are, I’m not sure.  Evidently, there was supposedly something special about the bones of any saint so-and-so, and to have one was quite a boon back in the day, a bit higher on the scale than, say, a rabbit’s foot.

Mark Twain makes a point in one of his books that, in

Here, There, Everywhere

Still being a bit of a novice at this grandparenting thing, I’m told that grandchildren generally chose their own monikers for their grandparents, something easy to say, at times comical and endearing little things that stick like glue: Mimi, Nana, Papoo…so I was curious what the first of this new generation was going to choose for us.

Our oldest daughter, however, took that into her own hands, and has done a fabulous job preparing her little one to know us as (are you ready for this one?)

In other words…

“A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil. For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.  Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil.”

Ephesians 6:10-13  Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

The capstone of nine months

As I begin this post, our youngest daughter is in the birthing process with their first child.  She called last night around 1:30AM (their time) to say that the dam had broken, but were home from the hospital with the injunction to “try and get some sleep”.

Yeah, right.  A separate human being is trying to push her way into the world through your body, and you’re supposed to “get some sleep”. 

Last report is that the contractions are getting more regular.  Of course, their bags are packed, and my son-in-law has been the one “nesting” by changing all the lights in their small apartment so that they can be turned on and off by a phone app, by rotating the tires on the car, etc…we love him.

And yet, even though he will experience everything he can as our own baby girl goes through this process, no one can really

Put on notice.

There is a distinct difference between a whistle-blower and horn-blower.  A whistle-blower, as current events has shown all too poignantly, has more to do with drawing attention to others, usually carrying with it negative connotations.  A horn-blower has to do with promoting one’s self, also with ironically negative connotations, at least with one’s peers. 

Except that there are a few finer nuances with blowing one’s own horn (ask me how I know this).  One category, in fact, has to do with a type self-promotion in the eyes of others that can be done in ways so subtle as to even disguise itself from the one actually doing it!  Another

Silverware, or flatware?

I don’t have a home and hearth “lifestyle” site like my bloggin’ buddy, Lindsey.  Case in point: I grew up calling all eating utensils “silverware, yet I somehow doubt that we ate off of silver.  I have since learned the differentiations between silverware, stainless, and simply flatware.  Now, Lindsey might be able to tell you more precisely what those are are (and how to use them correctly!)  One thing I have learned, however, (Lindsey, dear, please correct me if I’m wrong), is that the more you use silver, the less you have to keep it polished.  Otherwise, just stuffing it away for special occasions means you had better budget a fair amount of time in the preparation of the event for the wearisome task of polishing, cleaning, and wiping. 

For someone who rarely gets around to dusting my furniture, no thanks.

Not that I would allow my granddaughter to dig in the dirt with the silver serving spoon I got as a wedding gift lo, these many years ago, but why stuff that little treasure away just for dipping out the mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving?

So I wonder how much I fall prey to that attitude in other areas of my life; that is, putting something away for “safe keeping”, afraid it might get broken, stolen, or at the very least misused or disregarded, instead of using it for

Tink, and A Movie

Bob loves intelligent sci-fi, you know, the kind where you dare not walk out of the room or you might miss an important piece of the mental puzzle. (But then, he also likes big stupid scary monsters, like Godzilla, so I’ll just him “eclectic”.)  He wanted to watch the movie Inception…again.  Now, I’ve been vying for the old Jimmy Stewart black and white You Can’t Take It With You, so you can see our differences in taste.  But he’s working on some of his own writing and he was doing some, shall we say, research.  Because that’s what college professors do.

Fine.  Inception won out.

No plot spoiler, but be prepared to wrap your head around