Beware: broken sidewalk

If you’re on Instagram, you’ve probably noticed the proliferation of cat and dog photos.  That’s okay, since it’s a subject obviously near and dear to the owner’s heart.  I even wrote a children’s book about my dog—ready for this??—in Swedish, for my Swedish granddaughter. 

(Sidebar—Yes, I’m trying to learn Swedish, such a beautiful language.  I use my vocabulary words, plus a few others to fill in the blanks, to write primary-style stories along the lines of “See Jane.  See Jane run.”  Because that’s about the level of my Swedish.  So why not write about my dog, along with photos?) 

One of the wonderful things about dogs, we are told, is that they live in the now.  There’s no worrying about tomorrow or fretting over yesterday.  For them, it’s a total embracing of present tense, in every encounter, every situation.  Continue reading “Beware: broken sidewalk”

Feast on which beast?

NR thanks
Thanks to Norman Rockwell for this amazing painting: Freedom From Want.

This is the time of year I really kind of wish I had a chest freezer down in the basement.  The 20+ pound turkeys are on mega-sale, and the fresh cranberries will only be around for a month or so.

No matter, as the traditional American Thanksgiving Day feast that so many of us are blessed to gorge ourselves on will, by God’s grace, come around again next year.  My sister-in-law is the usual head chef at our yearly family gathering.  (Personally, I prefer to stay in the background and help with the clean-up.)  The main thing with the traditional meal, however, is the fun and hilarity that can follow shortly after about the first ten minutes of feasting and before the tryptophan kicks in. Continue reading “Feast on which beast?”

In other words…


The Lord is my shepherd;
    I have all that I need.
 He lets me rest in green meadows;
    he leads me beside peaceful streams.

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.

“Will you please just listen…?!?”

IMG_20150103_172451138I’m an old-fashioned XX and my husband is an old-fashioned XY, which is genetic code for female and male (exclusively).  After more than 35 years of matrimony, it is obvious that, as our chromosomes are not changing, neither are our styles of communication. That doesn’t mean we can’t learn NEW methods of getting our needs/desires/ideas across to each other, however.  Old dogs can still learn new tricks.  One of mine is that, since Bob reads my blog, I know he’ll see this one….and laugh out loud.  Well, I might laugh out loud; Bob will probably smile, maybe giggle.  You know, certain things just hit us differently, since we are different….v-e-r-y different.

Come to think of it, I could even use this moment to remind him that our anniversary is NEXT WEEK.

For years earlier on in our wedded bliss, I wanted him to send me flowers.  I think to him it just seemed like an impractical gift, especially given our precarious financial lifestyle at the time.  So one day, imagine my reaction when he brought to me a real live red rose!  I mean, a real LIVE rose, not cut…no, something I would need to take care of–on top of three small children in a tight married-student campus apartment, and a part time job as a nurse (night shift or weekends).  And what did I know about taking care of roses??!?

As always, it’s the thought that counts.

I’m at a better place now, communicatively speaking I mean.  How can I expect the poor man to have any idea what his companion is thinking without telling him?  The Y in his X doesn’t exactly give him telepathic powers (thankfully).  And, yes, he tends to have that typical “let’s fix it” mentality (again, quite practical) when I have a teary-eyed frustration or concern.

On that note, I received this from blogger Rusty Foerger at More Enigma Than Dogma.

(BWaH-hahahahaha!!!)  Message received LOUD AND CLEAR.  

Now, honestly, how many of us do this to God?  Right, here’s how I’m feeling, just listen (which God is really quite good at), but then when He gives us the solution, we choose to keep the nail in place instead.  DUH!

He does have specific strategies for our specific areas of concern.  He is not capricious, and He is not ambiguous.  And everything He does is out of love (even removing the nail, as painful as it may be at the time!)

  “He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
    bringing honor to his name.”

And, oh yeah, Happy Anniversary, Honey!  That is, almost.  Y’know, next Thursday.  Six days from now.  August 18th, 1979.  Flowers optional.  (Pssst…make sure you read the tags.)

Psalm 23:3  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.

Define “green”, please?


We were visiting our eldest daughter and family this past summer at their home in southern California.  I don’t really know what the Mamas and the Papas song “California Dreamin’” meant back in the 60’s, but starting about 2011, it meant dreamin’ of water.  I’m also reminded of a pretty impressive draught we had back in Indiana many years ago.  The grass had turned not only brown, but so crispy that you couldn’t comfortable walk on it without shoes!

Nice, spongey green grass, on the other hand, is so soothing to the feet, smells fresh when cut, and the sheep and cows feast away.  No wonder the shepherd/songwriter/soon-to-be-king David used that in what has become probably the most beloved psalm in the Bible.

“The Lord is my shepherd,  I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures…”

I like all of that, I really do.  It’s just the “I shall not want” part that gets me a little tripped up now and again.  Truth is, I DO want, a lot, and often, and sometimes not very patiently.  And I don’t think I’m the Continue reading “Define “green”, please?”

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