Do you ever feel like a thousand things are coming at you all at once? You know that some of them are more important than others, but when a herd of buffalo is trampling you down, you don’t have time to figure out who the head buffalo is. 

Retired people aren’t supposed to feel like this. At least that’s what I thought before I was retired. You live and learn.

On a positive note, the buffalo may have rattled me, but I’m on my feet - limping a little maybe. It will all get done and I’ll no doubt live through the consequences of whatever doesn’t get done.

I’m trusting that the Holy Spirit will direct me to a fulfilling of God’s purposes. The Holy Spirit will do that for you, too, so have a great Friday and the kind of weekend you’ve been hoping for - exhausting adventure or relaxation or a combination of the two. ❤️

 

My current read - “Strange New World” by Carl Trueman - is thought provoking. It has reminded of  all the forces throughout the centuries that have been antithetical to Christianity. 

And in our own day the forces that oppose Christianity are numerous and powerful. It is a testament to the power of the Holy Spirit that there are any Christians left.

So if you are a true believer in Christianity or if you are simply a product of Christian culture and values, you have the Holy Spirit to thank. ❤️

Good morning, FB Friends! Another sunny day here on the bayou with no rain in sight.

The new floor in the studio (that all purpose room where we watch TV) was completed on August 4, and the room looks really nice - mainly because all the clutter that was in there got moved to the living room. It’s still in the living room, and I want my living room back.

I’ve been slowly moving things back to the studio, but it’s been two months. It’s time to kick it in high gear. I’m trying to weed out as I go, but Cuz doesn’t believe in weeding out, so his clutter will go back where it was. Although I’m not at all fond of Marie Kondo, I’m determined to kick some of my clutter to the curb.

Ok, enough rambling about that. I just want to say that I’d rather clean any day of the week than deal with clutter. 

If your Monday tasks are miserable, just remember mine are, too - and misery loves company! We’ll get through it. ❤️

Horse Tales

We had a barn party this morning - Listened to Dixieland Jazz while grooming the critters.  

Caracas (Rocky, aka Fabio) has ruined his long, flowing blonde mane by rubbing himself on anything that will stand still. Jerry got some fungal spray to see if that will stop the itching. Even a small herd of three has an eccentric member, and it’s Rocky. He’s definitely Jerry’s horse. When I try to put a halter on him, he evades me, and it takes several attempts. He lets me do it right away if Jerry is present. 🙄 But he loves his fly mask and willingly lowers his head for me to put it on. I think he fancies himself a Masked Super-Hero. He seems to like men better in general - except for a substitute farrier that came one time when our regular farrier was laid up. But that’s another story. 

Rocky

Tesoro loves me and doesn’t have much use for Jerry. He’s definitely a ladies’ horse. He’s the Boss Hoss and keeps the other two in line. Tes REALLY enjoys being groomed. He leans into the brush as if to say, "Come on now, you’re not brushing hard enough!" Tesoro had been abused when we got him, and I’ve got a soft spot for him. 🥰 I think he had been beat around the head. It took a lot of time and patience to get him to lower his head and accept a halter. It’s hard to keep weight on him. He gets a double portion of feed every day as per the vet’s orders - and he’s still on the thin side. 

Tesoro

Santa Fe (aka Fay) is just a sweetie - like most girls. 😊 She likes everybody. She really is a saint for putting up with those two geldings. She and Rocky were born on the same day at the same farm and grew up together. They are a clique of two. I think that’s why Tesoro assumed the role of Boss. Maybe he figured if you can’t be part of the clique, you might as well boss the clique around.

Santa Fe

 Good morning, Friends! On this day - January 27 - in 1756, the composer, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, was born. To a lot of my former music students and to a lot of people, classical music (with a lowercase c) means - you know, that stuffy long-haired music that’s not generally popular. 

But Classical with a capital C refers to a particular era in music history - roughly from 1750 to 1820.  Mozart is one of the foremost composers of that era. 

Although I grew up listening to a Mozart record my parents had, I wasn’t introduced to  Mozart’s Horn Concertos until I found a cassette tape of these concertos in the glove compartment of a used car we bought years ago. They are some of my favorite Mozart compositions. 

Listen to a little Mozart today!

Happy Monday!

 It’s a chilly Monday here in southern Louisiana - a new week - a clean slate. It’s all too easy to focus on what’s wrong in the world. I know. I fall into that trap too often. There’s no denying that there’s a lot wrong with the world, and we should not be blind to it. Jesus said, "Be wise as serpents." Being wise does not mean being in a constant state of denial about the evil in the world. 

But Jesus also said, "Be innocent as doves." Don’t participate in the world’s evil. Do all the good you can and speak the truth. And don’t fall into thinking, "I can’t do much, so I won’t do anything." 

You can trust God to multiply the little good you do. You can’t imagine how much a simple word of appreciation and encouragement can do for another human being. So look for the good and the beautiful in nature and in other people. I hope your day is full of good cheer, goodwill, and lots of laughter. ❤️

Valentines

Good morning, Friends! It’s been one of those mornings. I feel like I’ve been riding off in all directions at once. I hope I can tick enough things off my list today to get a couple of hours in my craft room. Retirement shouldn’t be so busy! 

I’m working on Valentines in the craft room these days. In elementary school Valentine’s Day was a favorite holiday. It fed my postal fettish. We decorated shoe boxes, cut slots in them, and stacked them on a shelf. That was our ”post office.” We started bringing Valentines two or three weeks before Valentine’s Day when we all got to open our shoe box.  

It was important that we give a Valentine to everyone of our classmates. I don’t remember if that was an official rule or just the teacher’s suggestion. Anyway, nobody was to be left out - and that’s as it should be. 

But that meant that a great deal of thought had to go into choosing Valentines for our classmates. There were what we called “mushy” Valentines - the ones that talked about love and kissing and - well, mushy stuff. And there were general Valentines that just wished the recipient a good day. 

It was a grueling process. After all, you didn’t want to send a mushy Valentine to that obnoxious boy that kept pulling your hair. But did you even want to send a mushy Valentine to a boy you liked? I mean  - when you’re in the fourth grade, that could be embarrassing. No telling what the repercusions might be. A lot of my mushy Valentines ended up being un-sent. 

These days I think of Valentine’s Day as a celebration of not only romantic love, but a celebration of God’s love for us - the Sacred Romance. 

I hope your day is good! ❤️ Don’t forget to do small things with great love.

The Shepherd Who Stayed

I love poems and stories that make me think of something I hadn’t thought of before, and this poem does just that. 

Although most of our Nativity Scenes have the shepherds there with at least two or three token sheep, the Bible only says the shepherds went to Bethlehem. There’s no mention of them taking any sheep with them. And they probably didn’t, which means somebody had to stay behind and tend the sheep. 

So help me, I never thought of that before. But I should have because surely Our Good Shepherd would not want sheep at the mercy of wolves. The shepherd who stayed behind was fulfilling his calling as much as the shepherds who went to Bethlehem. 

This poem is by Theodosia Garrison (1874-1944) from a little book called Christmas Poems, selected by David Stanford Burr.

The Year 2020

The year 2020 will be etched in our minds forever. Everything changed - and not for the better. But prior to this extraordinary year, 20-20 meant perfect vision. In a sense the year 2020 did improve the vision of a large segment of the American people. Before 2020 we knew we were being used, but the picture wasn’t quite in focus. 

We elected Donald Trump in 2016, hoping for a clearer picture. Even before the 2016 election it was apparent that the establishment hated him. We thought it was because he was boorish. He wasn’t polished. He wasn’t presidential. But we thought this was routine politics. Neither party likes to lose. Neither party is above demonizing the opponent who won. Both parties always focus on the weaknesses of their opponents. Trump’s demeanor and his endless tweets gave them plenty to criticize.

Even so, we were inclined to think that the Democrats would eventually settle down and accept that they lost the election, and we’d be back to the routine ugliness of politics. But that didn’t happen. There was the Mueller investigation into baseless charges of “Russian collusion” followed by an impeachment trial. It started to become clear that more was going on here than the usual ugliness of politics. 

We knew the Democrats were promoting socialism, but we hadn’t realized just how far they were along the road to communism. We hadn’t realized the evil methods they were willing to use to reach their communistic goals - rigging the 2020 election - using a questionable pandemic to wreck the economy, curtail basic freedoms, and control the populace - allowing unlimited illegal immigration to insure that they stay in power.

The year 2020 has given us 20-20 vision. Is this a divine sign or merely a coincidence? I don’t know. You be the judge. But whether it’s a coincidence or a sign, 2020 was a year of revelations. He who has eyes to see, let him see.

Vaccine Logic

This logic about the Covid vaccine was posted by someone on Facebook.

"Out of all the vaccines I have had in my life....tetanus, small pox, measles, polio, meningitis, TB, etc... I have never seen so much wishy washi-ness over a vaccine that says I have to wear a mask and socially distance even when fully vaccinated.

That I could still contract or spread the virus even when fully vaccinated, never been bribed by establishments to take the vaccine in order to win a car and/or cash prizes. I was never judged if I didn't take it. I was never discriminated for travel or other regular services. 

The vaccines I listed above never told me I was a bad person for not taking it.....or taking it for that matter. 

I have never seen a vaccine that threatened the relationship between a family member and/or a close friend. 

Never seen it used for political gain. Never seen it used to persuade kids in favor of free ice cream. 

I never seen a worry about mix and matching and yet told it's ok to do it one day and then told the next day to not do it...then on and off, on and off again and again. I have never seen a vaccine threaten someone's livelihood, job, school etc.

I have never seen a vaccine that allows a 12 year old's consent supersede his/her parent's consent (that one alone blows me away!!!).

So, after all I have said can someone tell me how on God's green earth I am a conspiracy theorist, uneducated, non researched, not following the “science” for not willing to take this vaccine UNTIL the clinical trials are over at least two years from now??

Finally, after all the vaccines (shots) I listed above, I have never seen a vaccine like this one that discriminates, divides and judges a society such as this one.

This is one powerful vaccine. It does all these things that I mentioned and yet, It doesn't do what all the other vaccines (shots) that I mentioned earlier were designed to do (and successfully achieved I might add) which is…..fight off Covid"

*copied and pasted from a friend….

The Media - Selling Subhuman Status

Candice Owens recently shared this article. It’s an excerpt from a book entitled Less Than Human by David Livingston Smith. There is an ongoing media campaign to paint those who choose not to get the Covid vaccine as uncaring, insensitive subhumans. This media campaign has a lot in common with the methods described in this article. It’s worth reading. 

https://www.npr.org/2011/03/29/134956180/criminals-see-their-victims-as-less-than-human?fbclid=IwAR2jgZhW2tOfzRVFMrHycWF1KrWTpbz-lENzGsp38pGNtbbvcSo3JhjlhGI

Facebook’s Heavy Hand

Posting links on Facebook can be tricky these days. I was put on probation earlier this year for a link that Facebook found to be offensive. I don’t remember what it was now. Recently, my account was suspended for 24 hours for two links I posted back in May that questioned the information we’re being given about Covid. I also shared a link to an article in opposition to gun control. Facebook’s explanation for reprimanding people is always that what you have posted goes against their “community standards.” 

Facebook posters aren’t paranoid. At a recent press conference, Jen Psaki came right out and said that the administration is working with social media to flag “certain problematic posts.”  She said that the administration is urging social media companies to supress anti-vaccine ideas. They supress posts by removing them or attaching a notice to them that says they are inaccurate or out of context.

According to conservative Mark Levin, by saying these things, Psaki has given Trump a gift. Trump is suing Big Tech, arguing that since Big Tech has taken direction from the government about the pandemic, they must abide by the First Amendment. Psaki’s statements support Trump’s allegations. 

I’m glad Trump is suing Big Tech, but the wheels of justice turn slowly, and there are at least a few corrupt judges in the system. No telling when this will be settled.

Read more about Psaki’s press conference at this link: https://www.robmaness.com/2021/07/mark-levin-says-psaki-made-a-mistake-and-now-shes-trumps-best-witness-in-big-tech-lawsuit/

__________________________________________

You have to ask yourself what’s going on when state governments offer multi-million dollar lotteries as an incentive to take the Covid vaccine. I don’t recall this ever being done for other vaccines. Why are governments taking such extreme measures to promote a vaccine for a disease that doesn’t kill in any greater numbers than the flu?

The lottery is not the only thing that bothers me about the Covid vaccine. All the conflicting information about Covid and the vaccine should give any thinking person pause. And why is the vaccine promoted by foundations that also promote population reduction? If they want population reduction, why promote a vaccine that they claim is going to save lives? And then there’s the fact that the vaccine is not FDA approved. It’s being distributed under an emergency exception. 

Are those who decline to get the vaccine making a mistake? At this point, I don’t think we know. Maybe time will show that they are indeed making a mistake. But it’s reasonable to want answers to questions, to want conflicting information sorted out, to want to know why strong-arm tactics are being used. 

Read more about the Louisiana vaccine lottery: https://www.theadvocate.com/baton_rouge/news/coronavirus/article_8b7e8afc-e645-11eb-a837-4bcc7e05aa12.html

The Couch That Came and Went

 

The new couch and I had a quick wedding and an immediate annulment.  The trouble started when the delivery fellows told me they couldn’t take the old couch.  They didn’t know why the sales people at the store told they could.  The best they could do was haul the old couch to the road - heedless of the severe weather that was expected in an hour or two.  I felt like the old couch had entirely too much life left in it for such a fate.  I told them to push it halfway into the kitchen, and we’d figure out what to do with it later.  But I wondered what that would be.  We had already tried to give it away with no success.  How long was the living room going to look like a warehouse with us sidling between couches?

When the movers assessed the situation, they discovered that they’d have to take the front door off its hinges to get the new couch in.  This had not been necessary when the old couch arrived in 2009, but the new couch’s back is slightly higher than the old one. At length the new couch made it’s entrance, having to be lifted up over the stair bannisters.  These movers are young 20-somethings, but still - how do they spend eight hours a day moving big pieces of furniture in and out of houses?

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when the new couch finally made it to the living room, and I was shocked to find that the seat cushions did not have upholstery fabric on the bottom - just some nondescript cheap, brown, muslin-looking stuff.  It wasn’t an outrageously expensive couch, but I thought the price warranted better than that. 

I pointed out to the 20-somethings that this wouldn’t do because the cushions can never be flipped over.  They assured me that the couch had been Scotch-guarded, and I didn’t have to worry about stains.  Poor innocent babes!  They think it’s all about stains!  I pointed out - trying desperately to keep my sweet disposition - that for couch cushions to keep their shape, they must be flipped periodically.  I told them as gently as I knew how that I couldn’t keep the couch, but that I wasn’t going to quibble about having to pay the delivery fee.

They went outside and conferred - and probably did a fair amount of venting about the shrew who lived inside.  I don’t even blame them if they did.  When they came back in, they said I’d have to pay the delivery fee and an extra $15 for taking the door down and putting it back up.  I agreed.  They said I could settle things up later at the furniture store. They lifted the new couch back over the stair bannister, loaded it in the truck, put the old couch back in place, and were probably glad to see the last of me.

I went to the store today and talked to the store owner who we’ve known for years.  He borders on being a saint.  I told him my complaint about the cushions.  He understood, but said putting a cheaper fabric on the bottom of the cushions is pretty standard practice these days unless you pay the price of a small car for a couch.  I told him I’m not quite ready to buy a small car.  He laughed and refunded everything, but the delivery fee.  He refused to let me pay him for the door being taken down.  I’m thinking of giving the 20-somethings a gift card for a meal at a local restaurant.

The only thing that’s wrong with the old red gingham couch is that one of the back cushions has come un-sewed from the back.  I’ve watched a couple of Youtube videos that show how to fix this with a curved needle and some upholstery thread.  I already have curved needles in two or three sizes.  I went to the fabric store today.  There was nothing there called upholstery thread, but they had button & craft thread which looks pretty heavy to me.  The repair attempt will begin as soon as I can get to it. Stay tuned.

The living room seems to have fallen into the quintessential English Country look with the antique side chairs, the old gingham couch, the gold recliner, and the flowered rug - all different patterns, vying for attention.  It’s a look that you either love or hate.  I love it, and since I live here, I guess it will do. 

     I watched a video recently that a Facebook friend sent about what the globalist technocrats have in mind for us. No doubt it's important to stay informed about what is or might be going on in the world, so I listened as this video laid out the dystopian future that may be on the horizon. It was plausible. It was unnerving. My mind had to work hard to keep it from casting a pall over my day. 

     When the video finished, I set about doing the routine housework and the not so routine - decluttering countertops, giving the sink a thorough scrubbing. One good thing about mindless housework is that it leaves your brain free to do a lot of thinking and some decision-making. 

     I've decided to make this the very best Christmas ever, and I hope you will make the same decision. Even if you have to spend the holidays alone, put up some simple, inexpensive decorations. Watch no more than a half hour of news a day, and don't take it too seriously. It's nothing more than what a corrupt news media wants you to believe on any given day. It may or may not be true. 

    A lot of the usual Christmas events are not being held this year. So what. Dress up like you’re going to a concert, put on your sparkly jewels, and watch a concert or a Christmas movie on TV. Make things festive in spite of lockdowns.  Listen to Christmas music. Celebrate western civilization by honoring all the old traditions. Put up a tree if it's nothing more than a twig. Hang a wreath or some green boughs. Light the Advent candles. Observe the twelve days of Christmastide. Put up some outdoor lights even if it's just one string around your front door. 

     If your upbringing didn't supply you with any holiday traditions, adopt the familiar ones.  Explore the history of time honored traditions we all take for granted. Or come up with your own brand-new traditions. All traditions began somewhere with an idea that somebody set in motion.

   Read all the beautiful Old Testament prophecies about the coming of Christ. Read the second chapters of Matthew and Luke that tell of Jesus' birth. Read the chapters in Revelation that tell of Christ's coming kingdom and the restoration of all things. Revel in the story God is telling. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed by His love for you.

     Read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis. The story begins when Narnia is under a curse - it's always winter, and yet Christmas never comes.  This relates to our current situation. The draconian response to Covid is like a spell cast by a wicked witch. But in spite of Narnia's curse, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver have a cozy, cheerful home where they await better times when the wicked witch will no longer be in power. One of the definitions of the word, kingdom, is "an area or sphere in which one holds a preeminent position." Your home is your kingdom. Make it a cozy, welcoming refuge from the benighted world. 

     Remember, dark powers never last. The light always breaks through. A curse is always broken. Christ has already broken the ultimate curse - death. You can be a light in the darkness. If someone is in complete darkness, think of what the sight of a tiny lightning bug would mean to them. If you were stumbling your way through a dark forest, think what the sight of a single candle in a cottage window would mean. Be a light in this dark world. You can do that by being brave enough to speak the truth. You can be a light by remembering and reminding others that what is good and true and right always triumphs in the end.  Make this the best Christmas ever, and be a light all year long. 

 

They say it’s an ill wind that blows no good.  Covid has been a storm.  It has meant death for some people, unemployment and struggling or failed businesses for others.  It has meant the heartbreak of not being able to visit loved ones in hospitals and nursing homes.  It has meant not being able to have a proper funeral when someone dies.  It has meant an unsettling feeling of alienation when you see more masks than faces.  But if the old saying is true, surely there are a few good things that have come out of it.

Here are some good things that I have experienced on a personal level - 

I found out I’m ok with being gray.  I had my hair dyed for so many years, I had no idea what color it was.  I knew it was gray.  You don’t get to be my age without being gray.  But I always wondered how much of my hair is gray?  And what kind of gray?  Is it a dingy yellow gray or snowy white or a steely silver?  It’s leaning toward silver as it grows out, and I’m happy with that.  If beauty shops hadn’t closed, I’d still be having it dyed.  I found out I like my hair longer than it has been.  I got a trim yesterday for the first time since March 5.  My hair was beginning to be unruly and needed what my beautician calls “shaping up.” It’s a good bit longer than it has been in years.  I like it.

When you live out in the countryside like I do, a trip to the big city to shop and run errands is an all-day affair.  In the past I always had lunch at a restaurant.  Now I pack a lunch.  I bought a nifty lunch thing that has three good sized compartments and three little trays.  All of this screws together and makes a tower that slides down in an insulated case.  Yesterday I had salad in the largest container, mandarin oranges in another container, and a protein bar cut in squares in the third container.  I found a spot next to a tree in a parking lot and parked there to eat lunch.  It’s an idiosyncrasy of mine.  If I’m not seated inside at a table to eat, I want to be by a tree. (If you’re a psychologist, and you know what this means, message me.) Since it was 96 degrees outside, I stayed in the car and kept the air-conditioning running. I played some music on Spotify.  All in all, it was a pleasant dining experience.  Restaurants are open now - although not at full capacity - but I think I’ll continue to pack my lunch on most of my big city days.  It’s more economical and probably more healthy.  I know this isn’t good for the restaurants, but it’s good for me.

Since I’ve been at home more than usual the last few months, I decided to endure the chaos that goes with home repair and sprucing-up projects.  I wonder now if some of my past outings weren’t just excuses to get away from home and avoid these projects.  We had some water damage on the dining room ceiling from a leak.  The leak was fixed a few months ago.  Since Covid, we’ve finally had someone repair the sheet rock and repaint the ceiling.  We also had the 1970s gray paneling in our guest room painted a pretty blue called “Icy.”

Months ago I bought a Kalimba - that little hand-held musical instrument - mainly because it’s so cute.  (I know, that’s no reason to buy a musical instrument.)  Since the Covid lockdown, I’ve actually learned to play the little thing.  I’ve played the piano since I was nine years old, and I also play the flute.  The Kalimba is a different animal.  On the piano the pitch gets progressively higher as you move from left to right on the keyboard.  The pitch on a  Kalimba alternates from side to side.  I think it’s good brain exercise to learn how to navigate this side to side instrument.  I’m playing it so much now I decided to order a case for it.  I took it with me on my errand trip yesterday.  When I had to kill time between appointments, I sat in the car and practiced the Kalimba.

These are a few of the positive things that the Covid wind has blown for me.  I’d love to hear some of your positive developments due to the lockdown, so comment below.  

Grief & Gratitude

Whenever I start having free-floating anxiety, it’s usually because I’m not grateful enough for the good things in my life.  I’m too focused on some personal crisis or problem.  I give myself a pep talk, ask God for forgiveness, and make some time for gratitude.  That’s worked pretty well for most of my life.  But life has significantly changed in this Age of Covid.

Yesterday I masked up and went into the big city to run some errands and do some necessary shopping.  I’m one of those renegades who don’t think masks are necessary.  I think social distancing and a lot of hand washing is sufficient.  But I wear a mask where its required just out of compassion for the poor store clerks whose job it is to be sure everybody is wearing a mask.  They’re just trying to make a living.  I know some anti-maskers defy mask requirements.  I’m not judging them.  In fact, maybe we need a few defiant people to make a statement, but I don’t think that’s my calling.

Shopping used to be pleasurable.  Sometimes, even when I had everything on my list in my shopping buggy, I’d browse around and find something I hadn’t known that I needed - or wanted.  But shopping is not pleasurable anymore.  It’s more like a military mission - a foray. Get in, get what you need, and get out.  

Eating out used to be pleasurable, but masks have ruined that.  Of course, you’re allowed to remove the mask to shovel food in your mouth, but the mask is supposed to be on until the moment your food arrives.  Some restaurants only offer outdoor seating.  That might be pleasant in the Scottish Hebrides, but it’s not too pleasant in southern Louisiana in 95+ degree heat and humidity.  Yesterday I sat in the car and had a cold drink and a protein bar.  It was sufficient, but hardly a “dining experience.”

I’m a little bit introverted.  Even so, I used to enjoy the occasional chat with a stranger in the grocery aisle or the cashier when checking out.  Masks have ruined that, too.  We all seem to talk less.  It’s harder to make yourself heard and understood when you’re wearing a mask.  I never realized how much I used to observe facial expressions when talking to people.  Now it’s sort of like talking to a blank wall.  Someone might speak a greeting, but I can’t tell if they’re happy or sad or grumpy.  It’s like I’m interacting with robots.  I miss seeing people’s faces.  When you’re faced with masks (no pun intended) every time you leave your house, it begins to wear on you.  On some level you start to feel like everybody’s humanity is being sacrificed.  

And I miss church the way it used to be.  My church is open with social distancing and masks, but what kind of fellowship can you have with a mask on?  We Christians need each other more than ever in these trying times.  I think we all understood in the beginning when we were supposed to be “flattening the curve,” but how long is this going to go on?

Add to the Covid business, the state of the nation - cities being burned with impunity by the hateful and the lawless - politicians turning a blind eye to the destruction - millions out of work - the destruction and removal of historical monuments, accompanied by scathing insults to us and our ancestors.  This is cause for grief.

I’ve tried giving myself the usual pep talk.  I’ve prayed about it, and I’ve received some comforting insights.  I’ve suffered losses and so have you.  There’s no point in denying it.  Some people have suffered big losses - the death of a close friend or family member.  Some people have lost their jobs and don’t know if the job will still be there when this is all over.  These losses are in a special category all their own.  The attacks on one’s heritage and culture is yet another category.  But even the small losses - just not being able to live the way you used to - are significant.  I think God is giving me permission to let grief and gratitude coexist right now.  Grief over the continuing, daily losses and immense gratitude for health, enough food to eat, resources to pay the bills, and peace in my neighborhood.

Mental health professionals say that the way to stay sane in the current swirling chaos is to stay off of social media and limit the time you spend watching the news.  I know it’s true, but I’m not having much success in taking their advice.

Like a moth to the flame, I keep going back to Facebook and TV news.  I can’t seem to leave it all alone.  Some might say that I can’t leave the news alone for the same reason people slow down and ogle when they pass a car wreck on the road - morbid curiosity. I’ve considered that, but no - that’s not it.

I remember when my kids were little and one of them got really sick and had a high fever.  I couldn’t leave their bedside.  I’d sit and watch them sleep, closely observing - hoping for some tiny sign of improvement.  

Now my country is sick and has a high fever.  I keep going back to Facebook and the news, hoping for some tiny sign of improvement, but the fever seems to get higher and higher.  If a sick person with a high fever is going to survive, the fever must break.  The temperature must come down.  I have no medical training, but common sense tells me that if a fever keeps getting higher and lasts too long, the patient will die.

And that’s why I keep monitoring Facebook and the news.  Something has to change.  There has to be an improvement.  If there isn’t, our beloved America will die.  And there’s not another place on earth like America.  If you don’t believe me, ask all the immigrants that come here from other countries.

I’ve had a love affair with coffee shops for more years than I can count, but we’ve grown apart as lovers sometimes do.  If a coffee shop could talk, it would probably say that I’ve changed, blaming the break-up on me.  Don’t believe it.  It’s the coffee shop that has changed.  It used to be warm and cozy.  Now it’s painted gray and has all the appeal of an industrial warehouse.  It used to have warm, wood tables.  Now it has cold granite.  The temperature feels like subzero whether it’s warm or cold outside.  There’s either no music at all or music that sets my teeth on edge.

I made a last-ditch effort this afternoon to patch up our relationship by visiting the nearest coffee shop.  But it’s no use.  The relationship is over.  I’m now seated at my desk in an upstairs room at home.  It’s in front of a window with a nice view.  I’m in control of the thermostat. Alexa is here, doing my bidding by playing whatever music my heart desires.  The coffee is better here, too, and it’s certainly cheaper.  So - as I say farewell to 2019, I’m saying farewell to my coffee shop love affair, too.  May 2020 bring delightful discoveries to mend my broken heart.  

         

                     Christmas 2019.  It wasn’t the most stellar of Christmas mornings.  I didn’t get much sleep in room 415 on Christmas Eve at the Hampton. There was a motor running somewhere and I found myself measuring its cycles - running for 7 seconds, off for 10, running 7, off 10, running 7, off ten. It sounded like a clothes dryer on a very short wrinkle-prevent cycle. “If it's not a dryer, what else could it be?” I mused.  “Since we’re on the top floor, maybe it's some piece of equipment on the roof. An air-conditioner maybe?  But A/C compressors don’t usually go off and on so frequently. What could it be?  What could it be?”  All this mental activity is not conducive to good sleep.

          I got up at 6:30 and got dressed. Texted my hubby who was already downstairs getting breakfast and asked him to check with Glorianna at the front desk and see if they have another room available. 

          I went downstairs to get breakfast. Hubby is nowhere in sight. Got a boiled egg and some fruit off the breakfast bar. Ate the fruit, but ended up throwing the egg away because it was impossible - and I do mean impossible - to get the shell peeled off.  

          Texted "Where are you?" to Hubby just before he materialized in the dining room.  Apparently, he had gone up on one elevator while I came down on the other. "Go talk to Glorianna," he tells me, "She's checking on another room."

          Glorianna says the noise is probably the ice machine and there are ice machines on each floor, so it may not do any good to move. Clearly, the ice machine is not the source of the noise. “If it was the ice machine, wouldn't you hear the noise when you're standing by the ice machine?” I asked.  Of course you would, but that's not the case.        We've stayed at this hotel numerous times over the years on floors 1, 2, and 3. The first time we stay on the fourth floor is the first time we encounter this noise. It can’t be the ice machine. Glorianna says if we want to clear our stuff out of room 415 now, she will arrange for us to have a different room this afternoon after the cleaning staff is finished. I say, "Never mind.  This is Christmas Day.  I don't want to spend it moving out of the hotel and back in."  I've always liked Glorianna, but if I discuss this with her any more, I won’t like her.  Sometimes you have to stop talking to people you like if you want to keep liking them. 

           As we are leaving the hotel to go to our daughter’s house, my rubber-soled shoe refuses to slide on the rubber edge of the big rug at the front door, causing me to trip and fall face forward on the floor. Indignity added to frustration.  Hubby has a bum knee and can't get me up. I can't get up by myself because my knees don't bend enough to get my feet up under my body.  A big, husky young fellow in the dining room witnessed my lack of grace and helped me up. God bless him.  On the way to the car, Hubby said something about the importance of picking one's feet up.  So comforting. 

On the bright side, I did not hit my head on anything and didn’t break any bones, so all is well.  But the moral to this story might be:  Stay at home for Christmas.

          

Joy!

This morning I made the drive to Baton Rouge from the west bank. Traffic was sluggish, but not the nightmare that it is sometimes.  I didn't used to look at the Mighty Mississippi as a great obstacle. Years ago we crossed the I-10 bridge unhindered by any congestion, and we didn't think much about the big river below us.  Now the bridge is hardly ever trouble free. The congestion these days has put me in touch with nature. As I creep along in bridge traffic and gaze down at Old Man River, I realize just what an obstacle he is!

Life flows like a river. There are worrisome times, hard working times, carefree times, times of leisure, and all those in-between times. My last few weeks have been hard working and worrisome - finishing up an online course on the New Testament with its comprehensive final exam - and sharing a family member's health scare. 

I finished up the course work with good grades and the health scare turned out not to be as serious as we were imagining. I am immensely grateful to God.  But stress is a peculiar thing. Sometimes, even when the things that you have stressed about are happily resolved, the stress lingers for a while. Feeling stressed almost becomes a habit, and it can take a little while for the joy of happy resolutions to banish the clouds. But the clouds are receding today and I feel the stirrings of joy.

No health worries for the time being. No more Tuesday noontime homework deadlines, no more lecture notes, no more assignments, no more tests!  I’m tempted to behave like I did when I was a kid and school was out - take my shoes off and run around in the yard barefoot, relishing the carefree summer ahead.  I'm glad to finish this New Testament course, but it has been a great blessing. I'll miss our online class meetings where we had good discussions and developed some new friendships. 

I stopped at the post office on my way home and was delighted to find a letter from Spain, a postcard from Pennsylvania, and one from California.  More joy!