Oh Dear, It's a Full Moon. Is My Beard Showing?

I am in a MOOD.

One of those kick-'em-in-the-teeth-now-and-take-names-later kind of moods.

One of those moods where you don't wanna mess with me. Because I may just end up using my kah-rah-tay and jew-jit-sue moves to lay you out flat, buster. And then, just for good measure, I may just run up the wall, flip out behind, land on my feet, and beat up the rest of the neighborhood bullies with my stunning array of well-placed kicks, punches, flips, twirls, handstands and jumps.

Because as we all know, I was a cheerleader and award-winning olympic gymnast in a former life, as well as being one of super-secret elite squadron of Charlie's Angels that were so special we could not be shown on the big screen for fear of blowing our cover and thereby jeopardizing the security, health and well-being of every American citizen on the planet today.

Or not.

In the past three days I have been there for the birth of the newest grandchild, altercated verbal bashings between employees, dealt with attitudinal teenagers, heatedly discussed differing viewpoints of world culture with the Hubster, and had absolutely no patience whatsoever or tolerance of any kind for anything or anyone. I have missed meals, making me crankier than normal. I have missed rest, making me super-cranky. I have been unable to sleep well, making me cranky on wheels.

In short, I've been a joy to endure the past few days.

It's FullMoonItis. A dreaded, nasty case.

Stay inside. Lock your doors.

And watch out for the crazed, bearded fat lady with the wild kah-rah-tay moves.

May I Introduce You To My Newest Grandchild?

Sweetie Pie

Born 9/25/07

8:55 p.m.

7 lbs. 5 oz.

19.75 inches long

Mom, Dad and big brother Little Man are all doing quite well and are very happy to welcome her into the world, as are her Grandpa and I.

Happy Birthday, Sweetie Pie!

The Everlasting Itch

I was reading me some Deuteronomy 28 tonight. And folks, it holds some of the richest blessings I have ever dreamed of.

At the very same time, it can put the very Fear of God right into you, and deservedly so.

First the blessings:

• You're blessed in the city AND in the country.
• Your children, your crops and your livestock will be blessed.
• Your fruit baskets and breadboards will be blessed.
• Wherever you go and whatever you do, it will be blessed.
• God will conquer your enemies for you. They'll attack you from one direction, but they'll scatter to seven!
• God will guarantee a blessing on everything you do and He will fill your storehouses with grain. He will bless you in the land he gives to you.
• The Lord will send rain as it is needed, bless all the work you do, make you a lender to many nations, but never a borrower.
• He will make you the head and not the tail, the top and not the bottom.

The only catch is this:

9 “If you obey the commands of the Lord your God and walk in his ways, the Lord will establish you as his holy people as he swore he would do. 10 Then all the nations of the world will see that you are a people claimed by the Lord, and they will stand in awe of you.

14 You must not turn away from any of the commands I am giving you today, nor follow after other gods and worship them."

Yeah. OK. Easy. Piece o' cake. Just obey The Big Guy, and all is well, right?

Remember, this is OLD Testament. You don't get away that easy here. This is BEFORE Jesus took all the guilt and shame and sin and yucky stuff.

So here's what happens if you flip the coin to the OTHER side:

• Your towns and your fields will be cursed.
• Your fruit baskets and your breadboards will be cursed.
• Your children and your crops will be cursed. The offspring of your herds will be cursed.
• Wherever you go and whatever you do you will be cursed.
• God will give you curses, confusion and frustration in everything you do.
• You will be afflicted with diseases, scorching heat and drought, blight and mildew until you die.
• God will make the rain that falls to be as powder, and dust will pour down from the sky. The earth will be as hard as iron.
• You will be defeated by enemies. Your corpses will feed scavenging birds and wild animals.
• You will have boils, tumors, scurvy and the itch from which you will not be cured.
• You will be stricken with madness, blindness and panic.
• You will grope and not find your way. You will be oppressed and robbed continually and no one will come to your aid.
• You will be engaged to a woman, but someone else will sleep with her. You will build a house, but someone else will live there. You will plant a vineyard, but you will never enjoy the fruit.
• Your ox will be butchered before you and you won't get any of the meat. Your donkey will be taken from you. Your sheep and goats will be given to your enemies.
• You will watch as your sons and daughters are taken away as slaves, and you will be unable to stop it.

And folks, that ain't the half of it. The curses go on.... and on.... and on.....

I found this chapter while I was doing a search on the word "itch," which seems to be a thread stuck in my mind here lately. Now, to me, just ONE of those curses would be enough to get the point across.

At least I thought so.

But then I thought again.

How many times has God had to almost lay me flat to get me to actually listen to what He wants to say? How many times have I gone and done just exactly what I wanted to go and do without regard for what HE wanted? How many times have I thought to actually OBEY and SUBMIT to Him without the rebellion that I seem to carry around on my shoulder, daring Him to knock it off?

Well, guess what, folks? He can, He will, and He does. And I don't think anyone knew it better than those Old Testament people who received this particular curse.

Do you see this pattern in your life? If so, I'm thinking we could both use Deuteronomy 28 as a wakeup call.

Or, you know, there's always that "itch from which you will not be cured" as an alternative.

I think I know what my choice is.

A Rash Decision

I took the day off today.

It wasn't a choice I really wanted to make. It did, however, seem to be more of a necessity than not. Because, you see, my friend the doctor was missing me. I knew it in my heart, and far be it from me to keep myself from him. I mean, even though I am a happily married woman and all, there are some sacrifices you just have to make for the betterment of mankind.

And besides that, I don't know if I've mentioned this in the last, oh, forty posts or so, but...

THE ITCH, IT IS DRIVING ME NUTS.

And so off I went...AGAIN.

The diagnosis this time is that I have a secondary infection coupled with the original poison ivy/poison oak stuff. Which is why I've been chilling for no reason. Which is why the area on my arm and neck are swollen and red as fire. Which is why new spots are poppin' up all over, including my jaw on both sides, my right thigh, the backs of my hands....it just goes on and on and on.....

Because, dear children, it's in my stinkin' BLOODSTREAM.

And it seems as though I may just be highly allergic to it.

I'll just sit here and let that little bit of shockingly glaring wisdom soak in for a minute.

(dum-de-dum...dee-de-dee....doot-de-doooooo.....)

OH REALLY???? I HADN'T GUESSED!!!

So, we're in for yet another round of antibiotics, and we have a backup prescription for yet more steroids in case the antibiotics don't work as well as they should. In the meantime, I have become even more of a blithering idiot than I usually am, unable to concentrate on anything other than THE ITCH! IT WON'T STOP!!! If you should, perchance, meet me on the street, (I'll be the big, swollen, red, rash-covered person with the glazed eyes who's slobbering all over herself and jabbering incoherently while scratching every known inch of skin available) take pity on me and don't expect any type of civilized conversation. What with all the drugs and the scratching and THE ITCH! OH MY LAND THE ITCHING!!! it may be hard for me to hold on to a thought for very long.

Seriously folks, this is getting to be a bit more than the average bear can bear.

Off to the drugstore...again.

Please Pray

Little Ashley Adams is in need of some mighty prayer right now. You can read about her here.

Still Itchin'

Oh man.

I know I complain WAY too much. Really I do. And I know you get tired of hearing about it.

BUT....

IF THIS STINKIN' STUFF DOESN'T STOP ITCHING SOON I MAY GO OFF THE DEEP END EVEN FURTHER THAN I ALREADY HAVE!!!!

The redness comes and goes, but the rash, she stays and grows. Daily. I found two new spots this morning. I had to get up and walk around to keep from rubbing it raw even with the miracle cream and the shot last Tuesday.

I am certain of this: There is itching in h*ll. No doubt about it. And it lasts FOREVER.

My advice?

REPENT.

Because God Made The Ivy Vine, And The Bum To Cure It

The Arm

The Back of The Neck

The Front of The Neck

The Other Parts Will Remain Unpictured...And You Will Thank Me Even As You Forgive My Pasty-White Skin

Bet you'll never guess where I went today!!!

Bet you'll never guess what I got when I went there!!!

Yes folks, it's

Back to the Bum,

your weekly installment of the Singer travels to the doctor's office.

Includes graphic details of underwear cleanliness and wear, as well as which side the inevitable Cure for What Ails You (and we use that term oh! so loosely) goes in. It's suspenseful, it's graphic, it's....

A pain in the bu*t. Both figuratively and literally.

Figuring it up over the past six weeks, I've spent about $150 we don't have on various physical ailment junk JUST FOR ME that's come down the pike. I gotta tell you, I've about had it with this. Thank You, God, for health insurance!

Today's shot featured both a kick-'em-fast-kick-'em-hard steroid for a jump start on the allergic reaction as well as a long-acting one for the eventual drying-up of stuff. I also got some killer cream that actually took the itch away for more than an hour for the first time since last Thursday. Which is a good thing, because the people who sat with me at lunch today at work were really irritated by All The Rubbing I had to do to stay reasonably sane.

And we all know I would NEVER do anything to irritate ANYONE on purpose, right?

heh heh heh heh.

So tomorrow it's off to the races, scarred but hopefully itch-free.

The one good thing that came from this? I found out my chest x-ray is clear without having to wait for a LETTER from the doctor. Apparently he doesn't call if everything's OK...he just leaves you to worry.

The Bum.

The Ol' Soft Shoe...

Do not wait.

Do not dawdle.

Do not pass GO and collect $200.

Go directly to Everyday Mommy and enter the drawing for a pair of Easy Spirit Shoes right now.

And if you win and don't want them, think of me.

:-)

Sunday

1 Peter 2:5

And you are living stones that God is building into his spiritual temple.

What’s more, you are his holy priests.

Through the mediation of Jesus Christ, you offer spiritual sacrifices that please God.

Can't Help Lovin' That Cal-a-mine....

Yup.

It's in the bend of my left arm in a big way.

It's all around my neck.

It's on my right forearm.

It's in my hairline.

It's between and under certain accoutrements that, shall we say, hang like the proverbial Spanish moss?

It's even...you guessed it.

And how on earth it got in all those places is beyond me. I'm clueless. Well, except for the fact that I didn't even know there was a possibility I could have it until the rash popped up. A little late for the ol' being sure the oil was washed off in a timely manner bit.

Tecnu and I have become fast friends, and Calamine has joined us. We're on the lookout for even more and better friends to join our "happy" family, so if you have a "friend" that's really helped you or someone else out in the past, please leave a comment below.

Did I sound a little desperate?

I thought so.

And Do I Hear Eights And Nines?

By the end of this saga, I will be so pumped full of steroids I may end up with pecs the size of kegs.

Or becoming a race horse.

Yes, our friendly doctor-man used my behind as a pincushion yet again today. That makes two shots and one oral prescription of the 'roids. Barry Bonds and I have more in common than I thought, and I don't even like baseball.

As for the fears, his sage advice was "When you hear hooves, think horses - not zebras."

Uh...OK?

Apparently he felt the breeze as that one shot over my head, so he explained that I shouldn't think the worst, just look at it as what it presented itself to be.

Who, ME? Think the WORST??

So tomorrow I go to get a chest x-ray, just to be safe and to put my mind at ease. And because he knows how paranoid I am.

And I do have poison ivy. Ugh.

Thank goodness I'm already on steroids to help out with that, huh?

At Sixes And Sevens With Me

Today is one of those days when I'm just uncomfortable in my own skin.

I think it has to do with seeing pictures of myself last night. That's part of the mental part. Or the fact that I still haven't gotten over the bout of bronchitis from two weeks ago. That's the physical part. Or the poison ivy I think I have from clearing out the hedges and fence row last week. That's just the allover part. Or all of the above.

Or it could just be I'm a little scared. Which is huge for me to admit to The Interweb As We Know It.

One of the things I guess I'm bothered most about is the bronchitis. It isn't going away as fast as it usually does, and that worries me. My father's side of the family is famous for lung disease, and they seem to have passed it on down. My uncle, who smoked heavily, died of lung cancer. My aunt, whom I love dearly, suffers from scleroderma, a hardening of the soft tissue. Lungs, in her case. My father, also after years of heavy smoking, has emphysema. Both of my sons have had asthma, as do I.

Odds are not great here, folks.

Or then again, I could just be obsessing and borrowing trouble and worrying about nothing. Which, as we all know I NEVER do, right?

My firm hope is there will be research to replace the unhealthy-lung gene with a weight-loss gene in the near future. I mean really...what more important scientific research could there be?

Ahem.

So today I will be going back to the doc for the fourth time since contracting this little bug in hopes there is some sort of bionic part with which he can replace my ailing bronchial tubes, at least until they heal properly.

In the meantime, I will earnestly try to practice what I preach and give it to God to handle. It's ever so much more comforting than thinking of the "what if" parts.

If you think about it, wouldja send up a small-but-fervent for me please?

And we'll get back to work on the blubber part tomorrow.

Matthew 6:34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

You Just Can't Go Too Long Without A Dose Of Cutie

Just one of the almost three reasons I love being a grandparent...

Linkage That Just Makes Sense To Me

Whilst browsing through the blogs my way,

On a sunny, cool September day,

Some linkage I did find,

Which brought think-age to my mind,

So I thought I'd share the wealth then hit the hay....

HeyJules is taking pictures again, this time of the Tour de France bikers as they ride through Parkville, Missouri. Let's just say they're easy on the ol' eyebones.

Singing Owl is ranting about spiritual pablum for grown-up Christians and the lack of meat-and-potatoes food for the spiritual body on bookshelves today.

Heather at OhMyStinkinHeck writes candidly about my life. Really. She's in the midst of trying to lose weight and is suffering the fate of living my EXACT SAME LIFE. Poor kid.

Linds at Rocking Chair Reflections discusses virtual reality in a very direct, moving post. Amy Wilhoite, mother of 21-month-old Gary and wife of Brandon, lost her battle with leukemia this week, and Linds does a great job of showing us that we are all REAL.

This Was So Beautiful I Had To Steal It

Thank you, Linds, for sharing this on your blog and allowing me the honor of ripping it off. It truly is beautiful.

Sunday

Revelation 7:17

For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd;

He will lead them to springs of living water.

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

Chef Jeff, You Have Disgraced Yourself

Lo, all those many months ago when the Spring, tra la, was full of promise and the sun shone brightly and birds sang while gentle breezes wafted the new leaves of the trees to and fro, tra la, I made a trip to the hardware store.

Tra la.

And at the hardware store I purchased the following:

1. One premium Chef Jeff cucumber plant
2. One premium Chef Jeff sweet red pepper plant
3. One premium Chef Jeff sweet green pepper plant
4. One premium Chef Jeff Early Bird tomato plant
5. One premium Chef Jeff Early Girl tomato plant
6. One premium Chef Jeff Better Boy tomato plant

And suffering the jeers and sneers of Hubster, who has seen me try and fail before in the gardening area, I planted all of the above.

In my front flower bed.

For the whole world to see.

Tra la, tra la, tra la.

I got a bumper crop of tomatoes on one plant. The squirrels and rabbits ate very well indeed. In fact, I would say they probably had over twenty tomatoes just off of that one plant if you count the blooms they knocked off and the branches they bent trying to get to all the tomatoes they could reach while I wasn't around.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Oh no, not at all.

But then we come to the rest of the plants.

The pepper plants have produced nary a pepper. I don't really blame Chef Jeff for this one, because it seems my friends the rabbits are partial to the leaves on the lower part of the pepper plants and the blossoms. It's hard to make a pepper when you don't have a blossom.

Then there's the cucumber plant. The cucumber plant that grew to a length of about 8 inches, then died. Deader than a doorknob. No nibblers.

And the other two tomato plants. One has never put out a single, solitary tomato to this date. Not one. The other produces tomatoes that have seams and tend to rot before they ripen. Not even the squirrels will eat them. They look, frankly, like some sort of genetic mutation gone very, very wrong.

And I'm wondering if Chef Jeff is trying to pull a fast one on me here.

I mean really, if you're so busy cooking all the time, where do you find time to run a plant business? And if your main focus is on preparing food, it's obvious you can't be as dedicated to providing quality greenhouse plants to deserving customers like me, now isn't it?

Shame on you, Chef Jeff.

Shame. On. You.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

But hey, thanks for giving me someone to blame it on this year.

Tra la.

From Suzy Sunshine to Darth Vader in 1.5 Seconds Flat

I am a bit on what I like to call the strange and wonderful side of life, but I am not one to run hot and cold on a regular basis.

When I'm in my usual state of mind, all is running smoothly and the writing flows along the way my life does. In other words, what you read is what I am in real life.

Well, 99% of the time, anyway.

But there are those times when I don't want to let you know how I feel. There are those "Dark Side" times when all I want to do is gripe and moan and complain and whine and wail and weep and gnash my teeth. The times I wallow in depression or self-pity. The times I'm mad-as-h*ll-and-not-gonna-take-it-anymore. Those are the times of which I'm not particularly proud, and those are the times I try to keep from showing.

I know you. You're like me. You do the same thing. And if you're like me, the best way for you to get over those feelings is to write them out.

My friend HeyJules and I were hanging out having our regularly scheduled program of coffee and God/girl talk at Starbucks last weekend, and this very subject came up. And then my friend Bev wrote on the selfsame item. And we've all come to the same conclusion.

You gotta have a Dark Side blog.

One that you keep private or open up to only a couple of people. One where you can rant to your heart's content. One where you can let out all of your frustrations, all of your pent-up anger, all of your PMS angst. A place to vent all the steam that tends to build up. A safe place that no one knows about except you and God.

And after you write it all out and you've had your say, you can feel free to let it go.

The Dark Side blog is a way of using the gift God has given you to help yourself. And after it has served its purpose, you can delete the entries and no one will be the wiser. No one will be hurt. No messes will have to be cleaned up. You will have worked through whatever it is that is bothering you. It's just between you and God alone and it's done in the way we do it best. By writing.

The Dark Side blog. It's a good thing.

Psalm 55:22
Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.

1 Peter 5:7
Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.

Because We Love Us Some QUALITY Family Time

Oh my word.

I am about to confess to something I never thought I would ever tell a soul outside my own little close-knit household of four (at this time...the rest are grown and gone). A secret so dark and forboding I can't even say it out loud for fear the very walls will collapse around me.

Come closer.

I have to whisper in your ear, because really, you'd never think this of me.

A little closer. I really don't want this to get out. And I know I can trust you, right?

(deep breath)

Here goes....

My family and I are avid watchers of ...(gulp)...




Hubster was the first to go. He's watched it from the beginning. And then it ensnared each of the children. But me? I stayed strong. The computer is in the other room, you see. The computer and I formed an alliance worked together to maintain some sort of sanity in the home.

But then it happened.

One night I didn't get dinner started until late. We were having some kind of slop wonderful concoction that I was sure the kids and the Head of Household Hubster would veto love. Because the show had already started when we sat down to dinner and because Hubster absolutely cannot miss it for the world, we watched it as we ate.

And I was hooked.

From then on it's been THE family thing we do together, strange though it may be. We always eat dinner together at the table on BB8 nights, and we always get done in time to take our places in front of the television before it starts. We plan out family strategy, we choose sides, we gloat, we yell, we throw up our hands in disgust, and we applaud.

All over a silly television show.

But it's more than just a television show. With most shows, you sit in front of a box and watch. With this show, my whole family actually talks to one another. We play the game with the contestants, even though we aren't a part of it. The show is secondary to the interaction we have as a family.

It's a good thing.

This season a strong Christian woman made it to the final four. Now, without some divine intervention there's no way she'll win, but she certainly has been a witness for her faith while she's been in the house. Jameka has shown integrity and the love of God to the others in the household, even while being berated for that faith. And she's done it on national television. I doubt I'd be that strong.

So if you get a chance, you might just lift up Jameka in prayer. Not that she would win, but that she would continue to glorify God and to be strong in Him during the time she has left to play the game.

And if you'd told me I'd ever (1) be watching a reality show and (2) be praying for someone on a reality show, I'd look at you like you'd been hit over the head with a cob, so I know what you're thinking.

Just humor me.

Pack Your Bags, You're Going On A Guilt Trip

I'm firmly convinced that God gave mothers an innate ability to pour guilt upon their young in order to get them to behave the way they ought to in times of great idiocy and neglect on their parts. And I'm just as convinced that those of us who realize this will use this gift to our advantage, not only with our children, but in dealing with others with whom we come in contact on a daily basis.

And Girlfriends, that can be a good thing in its place. Oh yes, it can.

Take work, for example.

I was in charge of a blood drive held at my place of employment today. Our goal was to have 20 able-bodied men and women sign up to donate a pint of blood. Bear in mind there are about 85 of us in the immediate vicinity, so this was not an unrealistic goal.

As of yesterday there were 10 people signed up.

TEN.

We were down in numbers from the last donation period because of several reasons, some of which included:

1. People who recently donated platelets and/or blood and couldn't give


2. People who were on medications or had illnesses that couldn't give


3. People who have been out of the country and were restricted from giving for a year


4. People who were low on iron, and


5. People who were afraid of needles and refused to give under any circumstances.

So my inner Mother of All Guilt came to the surface. I couldn't help it. I sent an email to the troops worthy of ...well... MY mother. It went something like this:

I know. We ask, and ask, and ask again. And you give.

And it gets to the point where you say, "Whadda they
want...BLOOD????"

And the answer is yes. We do. A whole pint, please. And we're not picky about whether it's leaded or unleaded, fat-free or fat-laden, ultra-refined or lower class.

We just want it.

We don't want it to sell on the street or to drop on cars as they pass under an overpass. We don't want it to fertilize our gardens or feed our pet piranhas.

We want it to help other people live. We want it to give to people who need a little extra to survive. And who knows? One day one of those people could be YOU.

The great thing is it doesn't cost you a dime. You just get stuck, bleed into a bag for a little bit, then you get cookies and pop. It's free. It's easy. It's practically painless.

And we're short at least 10 donors as of this writing. The blood drive is tomorrow.

Won't you please consider signing up? Reservations will be taken through today, but if more people don't sign up we may have to call the whole thing off.

And that would be a very bad thing indeed.

I got 7 more donors from that. Well, from that AND from going to individual offices today to ask people point-blank what time they'd like to show up. And from siccing one of the blood center guys on a particularly good prospect.

All told, we had a total of 17 sign up. Not a bad increase for one day. We had 5 first-time donors of the ten pints we were able to collect. 7 of the people who signed up couldn't donate due to various reasons; an unusually high number. Two flat-out didn't show up.

Next time, in January, we'll try a different tactic. Bribery has always worked wonders in my part of town. Maybe if we mix the two together......

Haven't We Been Here Before?

minus

( plus )

times 30 days

equals

yet another case of

asthmatic bronchitis.

So, a word of advice here...

IF you want to save a little money? Do it some other way.

Because the not-refilling-the-prescriptions-because-they're-expensive-and-you-really-can-do-just-fine-without-them-thank-you-very-much?

Turns out to be a lot more expensive in the long run.

And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

Spic and Span

In an ever-growing effort to keep you, the bloggity public, informed and aware, let me just say this:

I am alive.

Oh yes, contrary to the glut of FOUR WHOLE POSTS you had to wade through last month, I am indeed among the breathing and those with a pulse.

My good buddy HeyJules reminded me over a cuppa joe today at our monthly You-WILL-Be-There-Or-I-Will-Hunt-You-Down-Like-The-Dog-You-Are get-together at Starbucks that it had been a while since anyone had heard from me.



I vehemently denied it until she showed me the cobwebs which had overtaken my blogspace, along with the icky, digusting dust mite thingies in the corners.

Yuck.

Um, does anyone have any Works-For-Me-Wednesday or Thursday Thirteen or Friday Feast or Saturday Sumpin' cleaning hints for the corners of a blog?..... Anyone??? .........

Yeah.

So here's me, bandana on my head a la Lucille Ball and Ethel Mertz, mop in hand, wearing pink Playtex gloves, with ammonia, rags and hot water in a bucket.

Oh, and bright red lipstick and false eyelashes. We can't forget the false eyelashes.

Katie bar the door, the cleaning lady's here!