Oh WOW, Man, It Was Like, You Know, A GAS...

If I sound a little muffled it's because I can't talk out of the right side of my mouth. It's slowly coming back to normal, but there for a while it was iffy.My teeth, on the other hand, are a different story altogether. They are shouting out loud and clear.

Today I had to have two fillings drilled out, drilled deeper, and refilled. During the course of All The Drilling, it was discovered that one of my teeth was cracked, which necessitated Even More Drilling.

Oh the joy. The utter, unmitigated joy of it all.

First of all, I hate to even have my teeth cleaned, much less drilled. The sound of the drill makes every muscle in my body automatically clench in ever-tightening spasms in anticipation of the pain that will surely follow.

Even if it doesn't.

One dentist I had, upon noticing my death grip on the chair as he was about to come at me with a three-foot-long needle in preparation for a little drillfest, made the mistake of saying something akin to "Oh come on now! Stop that! You're being silly!"

They found him close to where he landed, somewhere in Borneo, wandering aimlessly with a three-foot needle stuck in his butt.

I do believe his hindquarters are numb to this day.

Needless to say, he is no longer my dentist.

You can imagine my fear and trepidation at entering what is, to me, akin to the actual gates of that fiery place down under here on earth. I have this awful habit of making jokes when I'm nervous (read scared out of my gourd) or uncomfortable (read about to pee my pants I'm so scared), and that made for a lot of fun in the ol' chair, I can tell you.

Lessons Learned While At The Dentist
LESSON 1: Do not try to be funny in the dentist's chair.

LESSON 2: Do not try to be funny in the dentist's chair while under the influence of nitrous oxide.

LESSON 3: Do not try to be funny in the dentist's chair while under the influence of nitrous oxide if the dentist happens to have his hands in your mouth at the same time.

Because really? The only people laughing will be the dentist and the assistant. And the only thing they'll be laughing about is how silly you are while you're trying to make jokes that make sense while you're trying to talk around All The Hands and breathing in that gas of the gods.

Honestly, I had no idea a dentist appointment could be that close to fun. Once the gas was on and working, once the numbing agent was in place, he could've come at me with a ten-foot needle instead of the three-foot one and I wouldn't have cared a bit.

Not. A. Bit.

Two shots later the drill went to work, and I just concentrated on breathing in that sweet perfume. It worked like a charm.

Only now the numb is fading fast. Methinks he must've gone a bit deeper than originally planned, because it seems I now have a migraine in my teeth. So for tonight I will forgo touching up my roots and head off to bed with my friend Ambien. By tomorrow my nerve endings should acclimate to the new fillings in town, and I may even be able to chew on the right side of my mouth for the first time in years.

All in all?

It was a gas.

TV for ME....or You....

OK, this is it.

I have HAD it with the giveaways, with the freebies, with the chances to win glorious prizes.

ALMOST.

Just this one last time, then we're going back to business as usual here at The Blawg.

Really.

Best Buy has teamed up with 5 Minutes for Mom on this one. It's all about the viewing pleasure, people. On the big screen TV, Interpeeps...THE BIG SCREEN TV!!!!

Go on over there and check it out, and you may win one for yourself...if I don't win it first. :0)

No, I Didn't Sleep Late, And Here's The Winner!

I had a ton of things to get done this morning and I got a late start.

First there was band rehearsal.

Then I have to get the oil changed in the car.

And I have to get a birthday present for Mom and Nephew.

And I have to go to my part-time job sometime today.

And I REALLY need a pedicure.....

But you could probably care less about all that, because you're saying

"GET ON WITH IT, GIRL!!! WHO'S THE WINNER???"

And so, to quiet the ever-threatening throngs of swarming humanity that threaten to break down the very doors of my blog and drag me senselessly out into the streets whilst chanting in eerie, ghostly voices "TELL US......TELL US...", I will finally reveal the recipient of the lovely prizes pictured below:

It was....

(the crowd holds its collective breath) ....

Anonymous.

Never fear, not even I would be that mean. Anonymous does have a name, and it is DIANA. She has been notified by email and will be sent her weight loss miracle post haste, or as soon as I get her information.

Thanks to all of you who visited, and hey, let's make it a regular thing, huh?

Free Sample Time...Before We Get Back To Business

Click on the link above to get your very own free sample of one of Folger's new coffees. They all look good, but I chose the Morning Cafe Blend, because I need all the help I can get in the morning.

Now, if there were only free makeup samples somewhere...

Sigh.

It's A Giveaway!!!

Note: This post is set to stay at the top until Friday, July 27th.

Please see below for more current posts.

It's HERE!!! The Great Bloggy Giveaway is HERE!!!

I'm so excited I've already had to go to the bathroom 3 times since I started this post, and that's a record - even for me.

And so, without further ado, let me state the obvious:

I am fat. There's no denying it.

Though I try to hide it by only showing my face in the photo, you can get a better picture of what I really look like by checking out the avatar on the sidebar. In my lifetime I have spent $923,249,573,294.43 (more or less) on diet books, programs, exercise equipment, memberships, etc.

And still I remain the way I am.

So, in hopes that you will do ever so much better than I did at this, I am offering the following up for grabs:




Yes, it's the ever-popular South Beach Diet Guide and Cookbook! Two for the low, low, price of ...well...NOTHING!!! Just take 'em off my hands. Leave a comment below and get started on your very own weight loss journey.

Books are guaranteed to work. They open AND close, and the pages turn beautifully. They've hardly been used, so it will be almost like getting practically new books for absolutely nothing.

On second thought, it will be JUST like getting practically new books for absolutely nothing.

If your heart desires what I have to offer, please leave a comment. I'll use a very sophisticated Random Number Chooser to pick the winner on Friday night at midnight, and I'll announce it Saturday morning. When I get up, that is.

Postage and handling is paid by me.

You do not have to be a blogger to win! Just check back here to see if you won on Saturday.

Bribes are accepted in the form of chocolate, coffee, dark chocolate, mild coffee, milk chocolate, espresso, mocha, cappucino, and any or all of the above. However, they won't influence the Random Number Chooser. But feel free to try...really.

This wunnerful idea was thunk up by Shannon at Rocks In My Dryer, and you can reach a veritable plethora of other giveaway items by visiting her blog this week. Just click on the button above and it will take you right there.

In Which God Hauls Out The Holy 2 X 4 Once Again

1 Samuel 15:22

But Samuel replied, “What is more pleasing to the Lord: your burnt offerings and sacrifices or your obedience to his voice? Listen! Obedience is better than sacrifice, and submission is better than offering the fat of rams."

Ouch.

Gee, God. You really know how to hit a gal where it hurts, huh?

Yes, I've been doing pretty much what I want to do the way I want to do it when and how I want to do it with no thought whatsoever about the way YOU want me to do it. That's pretty much a given.

But hey, it's YOUR fault. You were the One who let ME down!

I lost FORTY STINKING POUNDS. FORTY POUNDS!!! Do You even realize what kind of sacrifices I had to make to do that?

OK, let me rephrase that.

I was disciplined. I stuck to my eating plan. I didn't eat what I wasn't supposed to and ate what I was supposed to. I didn't falter. I didn't fail. I was faithful.

And then I plateaued.

Month after month went by, and still I stayed at the same weight. So who wouldn't start to eat a little here and a little there that they weren't supposed to? I mean after all, I worked so hard! I deserved to keep losing.

Oh, I see. You're going to bring up that EXERCISE thing again, huh?

No, I didn't exercise while I was losing the weight. Not even when I plateaued. Not even when I started to gain again.

Not at all.

And so here I am, back at the same weight I was before I started this whole thing over a year and a half ago. At least I hope it's just that much. I've been too scared to look at the scales.

And so I blame You.

Not me, the one who rebelled yet again and refused to exercise.

Not me, who found out what it was like to have pain-free knees and feet after I lost the weight, only to have the pain return in spades after I gained it back.

Not me, who was almost asthma-free until the fat came home to roost again.

Not me, the one who suffers from daily acid reflux now.

Not me, the one who can't fit into anything but her fat clothes again.

Oh no, not me.

Because, You see, if I can blame You, I don't have to take responsibility for my own actions. I can pretend that it isn't my fault. I can put my disobedience to rest on YOU instead of where it belongs...squarely on my shoulders.

You could've at least taken a little sandpaper to the 2 X 4 first, Lord.

I'm just sayin'....

Because I Love Me Some Christian Music

I am a sucker for some good Christian music.

And if you're like me, you'll click on the link above to get your very own, free, Monk and Neagle CD, which I believe may or may not be my very own new favorite...at least for today.

Enjoy, Interpeeps.

Enjoy and be blessed.

I Have Broken The Law

For the past several days I've been having a bit of a problem with the intake of the ol' oxygen.

Now, it's nothing I normally worry about, since every time the temperature goes above 90 degrees F for any period of time or the pollen count goes up or there's bad air quality or a pigeon passes gas in outer Tasmania this seems to happen.

However, this is one of those times when it's gone a little further than normal.

Tonight I went to the Urgent Care (which just happens to be my usual doctor's office) to see the Urgent Care doctor (which, surprise! just happens to be my regular physician). He decided I had asthmatic bronchitis and gave me one of those lovely shots in the behind that our mothers always warned us about when we were little. You know, the if-you-don't-behave-yourself-while-we're-in-the-doctor's-office-I'll-tell-him-to-give-you-a-shot-with-a-needle-THIS-LONG warnings?

Yeah, one of those.

And remember the other thing Mama always said? Besides to always have a clean bellybutton because if you didn't the doctor would see it and have to give you a shot with a needle THIS LONG?

Yeah. The unwritten but oft spoken

Law of The Drawers.

THOU SHALT NOT WEAR HOLEY UNDERWEAR TO THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, YEA, EVEN UNTO DEATH.

And by "holey" I know you realize I do not mean sacred in any way, shape or form.

Oh no, Ma'am.

And even though I'm half a century old, do you think I pay any attention when my mama speaks on matters such as this?

I didn't think so.

And so, as I stood there in that doctor's office, clad in naught but the tattered remnants and memories of Victoria's Secrets past, I knew I could do one of two things: I could either shame my mama and die a thousand deaths inside, or I could take the higher ground and do what I did.

I hid my underwear in my pants as I pulled them down around my hips and pretended they were just too sexy to be seen. And I apologized to my mama in my heart of hearts for all the times I never listened when I should have.

And for my penance, I did not utter a sound when the needle THIS LONG pierced my delicate bum.

Not a single, solitary sound.

Rub-A-Dub-Dub, It's More In-A-Tub!

(Edited to add the photo of the ACTUAL GOODS which I swiped from HeyJules. Go here to check out her reaction!)

My good friend and pal HeyJules grew up in the same neighborhood, more or less, as I did. However, we attended rival high schools - she, the red and yellow (yawn) and me, the Purple and Gold (the crowd cheers wildly!).

Nevertheless, we both share the love of In-A-Tub, even though it technically is on Purple and Gold turf. Those of us with Royal Blood learned to share our riches with the lesser among us, and so the red and yellows and the blue and dark blues and yea, even the blue and whites among us were allowed to partake of its goodness.

Those hot, crispy, greasy, deep-fried tacos with the lettuce, sauce, and oh-so-good powdered cheese that you had to eat fast before they fell apart, and that you had to actually let DRIP into the tub before you bit into one...ahhhhhh.....

The crispy burrito drowned in sauce....the Pocketburger....the veggie stix, the fried cauliflower, the quart-sized shakes, the taco salad, the....the....the....

Really, it's enough to make a girl have a conniption fit RIGHT HERE just THINKING about All the Greasy Goodness!

And so, it was with some fear and trepidation that I read this email from my friend HeyJules today:

Just so you know...

I read your post about In-A-Tub Sunday morning before leaving for early service. I got so excited thinking about all that delicious greasiness and powdered cheese that I found a reason to head down the street it's on instead of heading for home where a week's worth of groceries awaited me.

I got all the way to the building and pulled into the parking lot when I saw the sign on the door.

CLOSED ON SUNDAYS.

I cannot accurately express to you how much I hated you and that blog of yours in that very moment. It's a good thing I love ya to pieces or I would have had to kill ya.

So, tonight, after work, I'm going to Petco ... to get some dog food and then I'm driving home by way of In-A-Tub, and I WILL get my two cheese mild and I WILL get my burrito with cheese and sauce and I WILL eat every last bite of it and then I will blame you and your stupid blog post for the fact that my jeans don't fit.

Oh yeah, I can smell that greasy goodness now...

As I told her, I am only the messenger of good things, people. What you choose to do with the glad tidings I bring is YOUR business.

It All Began At In-A-Tub

In-A-Tub.

Ah, sweet, sweet In-A-Tub.

The artery-clogging drive-in of my youth.

The picture shown is actually of the NEW In-A-Tub. You can actually sit down and eat inside this building. It's a far cry from MY In-A-Tub. The one where you had to take your food to the car to eat it.

The In-A-Tub of my youth was a dive. A hole-in-the-wall. A place where it was the custom to drive up and park in one of about 20 or so spots which ran in two rows from the front of the building out to the road. From there you walked up to the building, and if you were lucky, you were able to get inside instead of waiting outside in all kinds of weather for ten minutes or more to place your order due to the crowd. When you finally reached the counter you'd best be ready with your order, and you'd best know the lingo, or suffer the attitude of the sour-faced, beehive-haired, nasal-voiced woman behind the counter. Anyone who entered her domain had to place an order in a timely manner or risk being passed over.

After all, this was a well-oiled machine.

In more ways than one.

In-A-Tub was/is famous for their tacos. But these are not just ANY tacos, my friends. These are DEEP-FRIED TACOS, making them EVER so much more dangerous for your health and well-being. Tacos that were served IN A paper TUB, hence the name.

And since so many of you have been kind enough to share your recipes on the Interweb, I thought I'd share this little tidbit with you; Remember those lovely metal clips like Grandma's beautician used on her hair when she went to get it set at the beauty parlor every week? Before you immerse your tacos into the boiling hot oil that adds All The Nutritional Value, be sure to use those metal clips to close the tacos up tight and keep the filling in. Then, after you have determined they have soaked up enough of that greasy goodness, you take them out, unclip them, spread the shell apart, and add chopped lettuce, powdered cheese, and taco sauce, either hot or mild (mine being the mild because I am the Wimp of All Wimps when it comes to all things spicy).

I'm telling you Interpeeps, it's a taste sensation made in the Heavenly Realms Above. Truly it is. And when you add a deep-fried burrito with melted cheese on the top and a medium Dr. Pepper?

GLORY!!!!!!

In high school we had open lunch, which meant we could go anywhere for lunch we wanted to if (1) we didn't drive or ride in a car and (2) we didn't use any more than our allotted time for lunch. Somehow or another someone frequently had to go to the dentist or doctor or had a sick aunt or dog or job off campus, and so a car load of us ended up at In-A-Tub more often than not.

And today, even though The Girl is attending a Rival School Which Shall Remain Unnamed, it was her turn.

I passed the tradition on.

It was a sweet moment, really. It almost made me shed a tear.

I hadn't been there in years, yet they were still serving up the same old stuff. For old times' sake, I almost asked the girl behind the counter to treat me with disdain and whine with a nasal tone as she called out my order, but I refrained. After all, the place has changed hands a couple of times.

So I got two mild, a burrito with cheese and sauce on the side, and a Dr. Pepper. The Girl got three mild, but had to ask me why I ordered it that way. I had to laugh. You would too, if you'd suffered through the lady with the beehive hairdo that yelled "THU-REEEE MILE-YULD!"

At least she's got someone to show her the ropes.

Because I Am Just Mad As That Hot Place Down Under And I Ain't Gonna Take It Any More, THAT'S Why!

UPDATE BELOW!!!

Well folks, let it never be said the fun here at Singer Central ever ends. Because it doesn't.

Ever.

Case in point:

Coming off of a rather bad vacation, which I may or may not highlight at some future point in time, I went back to work on Monday. The head of the accounting department came in to my office with a bill in hand and a worried look on her face.

Asking me if I was sure we had canceled ALL of the "company" credit cards when my purse was stolen, and receiving an affirmative answer from me, she then proceeded to show me a bill from Wal-Mart.

Now, bear in mind I work for a not-for-profit that helps needy people each and every day before I tell you this. Bear in mind the credit card used to make purchases at said store was a Sam's Club card that had been canceled at Sam's Club but that Sam's Club had not had the foresight to cancel completely when we reported it stolen, so it could still be used at Wal-Mart.

Bear in mind it had my picture and the NAME OF THE ORGANIZATION ON THE CARD IN BIG, BOLD LETTERS.

And then hear me when I tell you that Wal-Mart let the thugs who stole my purse use it to steal THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS' WORTH OF GOODS. Around $5,000.00 more or less. And that was from a bill that ran only through the 19th of June. My purse was stolen on the 7th.

Among items purchased were an X-Box, digital camera, DVD players, gift cards totaling hundreds of dollars each, a changing table, clothing, food, and almost anything else the store carries.

I was livid.

I was a wild woman.

The organization for which I work will not be responsible for the purchases made, but that did nothing to ice down my fury. These people deserved to know they were NOT getting away with this without being called on it.

And I decided I was just the person to do that.

You see, there are only two detectives for every 200 cases each month in my part of town. Because of this, only the "important" cases get assigned. My case obviously did not, and even if it did, the detectives are so far behind that it might never get brought to justice.

When the crooks were stupid enough to use my checking account to pay for calls for one of their friends or relatives to call out of jail to their home number, however, I had all the information I needed. When I tried to give it to the police they were uninterested.

But it made great material for a little bit of retribution.

After finding out about the spending spree, I made a little call.

I asked them how they were, if things were going well. Then I laid into them. I told them the police knew all about the robbery they'd committed and where and when it happened. I told them they had videos of the robbery, the places where purchases had been made with the stolen credit cards, the exact place where my purse had been found, and the phone number, address, and names of the people who did it. I told them they'd better be watching for the authorities to show up at any time, because I made sure to tell them everything I knew and I'd been researching it since it happened.

And I shamed them for stealing from people who had no food to eat or home to live in, which was what they did when they used the credit card with the organization's name on it.

And then they hung up on me.

So I called back and left voicemail, because they wouldn't answer the phone again.

When I tried to call again the next day, the voicemail message had been taken off. The next day the phone was "temporarily disconnected."

Yes, I lied about knowing the names and addresses. And I know I said I forgave them. I did, for what they did to me. But I haven't yet for what they did, or thought they did, to an organization that only tries to help those in need.

For that I'm doing the Scarlett O'Hara. I'll ask forgiveness for that one tomorrow.

UPDATE:

I honestly don't know if something is in the water or the moon has been full for the past couple of months or I'm hormonal or all of the above, but here's the latest...

Tonight I took my son to the movie theater with me.

I went in to do my weekly job and gave him the money to buy his ticket to see the movie he wanted to see. We met up after I'd finished my job and he finished seeing his movie. We left through the doors at the end of the theater that were clearly marked EXIT ONLY.

There was no mistaking them for entry doors. No way, no how.

A couple of young men who resembled the ones who ripped me off casually tried to enter as we left by holding the door for us as we exited, thereby gaining entrance to the theater without paying.

Little did they know with whom they were dealing.

However, rather than screaming at the top of my lungs

"HEY!!!! YOU'RE TRYING TO STEAL FROM THIS THEATER BY COMING IN THE BACK DOOR TO WATCH A MOVIE FOR FREE!!! POLICE!!!! MANAGER!!!!"

I instead kept my cool and said

"ExCUSE me. You have to enter

through the FRONT DOOR."

And then I made sure the door shut firmly behind us before we walked away.

And I muttered a bad word that described the young men as we walked, and I asked my son for forgiveness.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

by His Singer

Yes, the pictures wuz took by my own self and it's totally my own video...well, except for the tune, which I attribute to the musical wonderment of Peter Ostroushko and his Magical Mandolin. A gifted sort, that man. The piece on the video is called Prairie Sunrise from his Heart of the Heartland CD, which I judge to be among the finest available anywhere for the price.

In my humble and unbiased opinion and all.

Y'all.

Anyway, it's back to the grindstone tomorrow. And may I just say this about that?

Jeremiah 8:15

We hoped for peace but no good has come, for a time of healing but there was only terror.

That gives you just a small idea of how the vacation went.

Yup, we'll be MORE THAN HAPPY to get back to the office, my friend.

MORE THAN HAPPY.

My Patience With Blogger Is Fading Fast

Update: Apparently the glitch is fixed as of 7.12.7, and none too soon!

First, I was unable to leave comments on other Blogger blogs unless I held my breath, swung a dead cat three times over my head during a full moon on the third Thursday if it didn't rain and the temperature was above 77 degrees F, but only if I hadn't eaten brown beans for dinner.

One false toot could ruin the whole thing.

And I still suffer from that malaise. Not the tooting thing, but the inability to leave comments on Blogger blogs unless the utmost care is taken to gently tap the keys just so as I enter Commentdom. Otherwise all kinds of stuff breaks loose.

Now another blight has overtaken Blogger. I am unable to use the title field at all. For any reason. Zero use of the title field is mine. None. Nada.

Do you think Blogger is telling me it's time to move on?

Yes, I've tried rebooting. Yes, I've tried deleting the post and starting over. Yes, I've tried yelling at it. Yes, I've tried plying it with Sangria and cheese. Yes, I have threatened it with extinction.

None of the above seem to have worked.

So m'dears, methinks my time at Blogger is limited at best. If you would be able to suggest a good/better/best alternative, please do so in the comments. Bear in mind the cost should be minimal, the service should be great, and above all, I (as the Queen of All I Blog) should be Most Happy Indeed.

I anxiously await the opinions of Blogdom.

Your humble servant....

His Singer

Hard to believe, isn't it?

One whole year of mediocre writing, whining, forced photos of my grandchildren, children, socks, drapes, insects, laundry habits, housekeeping and parenting woes, joys and failures as a mother, wife, Christian, and human being.

Isn't that what it's all about?

Living and loving and sharing this world and our faith, our joys and sorrows, our gifts and struggles together? Praying for each other, laughing and crying together, joining together as brothers and sisters before one Holy God?

What a wonderful, wonderful ride it's been so far!

And in honor of this, my first Blog-iversary, I hereby declare a day of NALITH...Not A Lurker In The House! If you visit today, please do me the kindness of commenting, if only to say hello and to tell me where you're from. It would tickle me to no end.

Really.

Because there's no greater way to celebrate a day like today.

I'm Off To Get The Gizzards, The Wonderful Gizzards Because...

I'm skipping church today.

Oh, don't be giving me that looking-down-your-nose-and-thinking-"HEATHEN!"-type look, now. Judge not, and all that.

I actually have a fairly decent reason.

Not that I don't Love The Lord My God With All My Heart, but I think He understands that I'm leaving town this morning to head south. I'm going to see The Aunt, and I'll drop by to see Dad as well. And since I'm going to northwest Arkansas, and since I have relatives who work and/or are retired from there, I'll be dropping by a certain chicken plant to pick up discount boneless, skinless chicken breasts and thighs in bulk to take home.

Forget about the gizzards. They're gross.

Of course, that means a 6-hour drive, and I'm doing laundry now in preparation for that not-so-small trip. I'll spend tonight and Monday night there, then drive to the Country Music Capital of the World, Branson, Missouri, on Tuesday to pick up the kids on the way home.

During this week of somewhat forced solitude for Hubster and me, we have noticed a certain amount of difference. A certain... FREEDOM, if you will.

To wit:

The house seemed to heave a gigantic sigh of relief just after their departure. There has been an aura of peace about the entire building and grounds. There has been no screaming, no yelling, no loud music, no banging, no booms, no screeches, no thwacks, no sounds of things being thrown, broken, slung, bounced, hit, knocked, jumped on, slapped, punched or kicked.

AHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........

Dishes have been done on a regular basis. Food has not disappeared in great quantity, and actually seems to last much longer than normal. When a room is cleaned....try to see this with me....IT STAYS THAT WAY FOR MORE THAN 24 HOURS.

I kid you not.

There are no towels strung across the bathroom floor. The phone does not constantly ring for someone else. My husband can always find the remote control to the television. I don't have to fight anyone to use my computer. The dog has no nemesis to constantly bedevil her.

To be honest with you, at this point, the empty nest? It doesn't seem like such a very bad idea.

Of course we miss the kids. We miss The Girl telling us all about the latest conquest of the male gender. We miss comforting her if she's been dumped and helping her plan her next conquest if she's dumped the last one. We miss the lanky legs of The Boy, hanging from the side of the chair as he sprawls all over it watching television or trying to beat the next level on his X-Box. We miss his slow, sly smile as he tries to get away with something. We miss the intermittent hugs from both of them, the few times they will still sit on our laps, the family dinners.

But when God sees fit to marry them both off, I think we'll be ready. We'll miss them, but we'll be ready.

And we'll still get the chicken in bulk. But no gizzards.

So y'all behave yourselves while I'm gone. Be good to each other. Pray for each other. Love on each other. And most importantly, laugh. Because that's a gift God gave you, and He intended it to be used and used well.























Hugs, Interpeeps! I'll write when I get back.

Proverbs 15:30

A cheerful look brings joy to the heart;good news makes for good health.

Psalm 32:11

So rejoice in the Lord and be glad, all you who obey him!Shout for joy, all you whose hearts are pure!