Sunday, March 19, 2017


Woolgathering: indulgence in aimless thought or dreamy imagining


Self-talk motivation or life is a mind game:  I've always had to work at motivating myself.  I used to talk to myself like an angry parent talks to a lazy teenager.  "Get in there and clean up your room!  You're a lazy bum!  Why can't you be neat like other people? When are you going to grow up?!" It never worked.  Now I talk to myself like a I'm a toddler.  "Come on, baby, let's get a little work done.  I know you want to play with your toys (aka books, art supplies, sewing), but just spend 15 or 20 minutes in the kitchen, and then you can play."  This works much better - and I usually end up spending 45 minutes working in the kitchen.  The moral to this story: Be gentle with yourself.  It's easier to cajole a toddler than to bully a teenager.

oppressors disguised as benefactors:  Jesus said, “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves." (Luke 22:25-26)  
Relate this to our government. It takes from us in the form of social security, medicare, medicaid, and a host of other taxes.  Then when our prepaid government services (aka "benefits") are passed out - a small return on the taxpaying public's investment - our civic leaders act like they are our great benefactors.  The moral to this story: We fall far short of Our Lord's standards.

from small houses on big lots to mansions on postage stamps:  Fifty years ago everybody's dream was a little house in the suburbs with a big yard.  Now the dream seems to be a mansion on a lot that is scarcely bigger than the house.  Fifty years ago, people wanted to be outside.  Today they want to be inside.  I guess it's understandable.  Although people had air-conditioning fifty years ago, they were't quite as addicted to it as we are.  And they didn't have the electronic devices we have - devices that work better if you're not in the glaring sunlight.  Fifty years ago moms were at home to supervise the kids playing in the big suburban yard.  Now mom and dad both work until 5:00 or 6:00 and the kids are still at school in after-care.  What do they need a big yard for?  But I've been thinking - fifty years ago there weren't a lot of depressed people.  Today there are.  Antidepressant use has increased by 400% just since 1988.  No doubt there are a variety of reasons.  I think a major reason is not enough time outdoors.  The moral to this story: Go outside and play.  It's cheaper than antidepressants.

Monday, February 6, 2017

InCoWriMo and Sealing Wax

February is International Correspondence Writing Month, InCoWriMo for short.  The idea is to send a letter, postcard, or note everyday in the month.  This is the second year I've participated in this postal extravaganza. 

Today I wrote a long overdue letter to a penpal, and I thought I would embellish it with a wax seal.  I'm a pretty crafty person.  It's not often that I have a craft failure, but my history with sealing wax has been dismal.  I am a sealing wax klutz. But the memory of my last wax disaster had faded, so I thought I'd give it another go.  

After burning my thumb, setting a paper towel on fire, and ruining an envelope with an ugly seal, I remembered that I had ordered a sealing wax spoon right after my last wax failure.  Miraculously, I found it in my craft room without having to tear the place up.  Then - for the ka-zillionth time - I settled down in my chair with my iPad and watched videos about sealing wax.  I even found one that showed the spoon method.  Here's the happy result.  If I were a rooster, I'd crow!
 As per the Youtube instructions, I held the spoon over a lighted candle and rubbed the stick of sealing wax around in the spoon until I had a nice pool of melted wax.  This nifty little spoon has a tiny spout so I poured the melted wax on the envelope and stamped it with my crown wax stamp.  Success!  Of course, some people have success by simply holding the wax stick over the candle until the end begins to melt and dripping melted wax directly onto the envelope.  When I do this I end up with burned fingers and black soot in the melted wax.  From now on it's the spoon for me! -------- By the way, if you want to participate in InCoWriMo, but don't know who to write to, my address is on the envelope above.