(2023) Old Toys…

Just the other day, from out of nowhere, came a happy memory of one of my favorite toys from childhood, my Hippity Hop!  I was born on a farm and aside from my horse, my favorite toys were ones I could ride on.  I have many memories of bouncing around the yard and pasture on that thing, and boy it must have been made of magic rubber because it never sprung a leak, that I can remember. 

When I thought on it a bit, I realized that for the life of me, I cannot remember whatever happened to my favorite toy.  As I pondered this, more memories of toys that brought me joy came to mind.  Some of them came to tragic ends, as some toys do, when we are too hard on them or just don’t take care to protect them.  Others, however, I quite honestly cannot remember what became of them. 

It occurs to me that people are kind of like toys, in the sense that we sometimes, for whatever the reason, lose track of people that we once loved and held dear.  Sometimes I feel like the child, and at other times I have felt like the toy!  Instead of this thought leading me, or you for that matter, into the negative, I want to share an insight with you. 

I have a soft spot in my heart for those little old fellows that own huge pieces of land simply teeming with old things…some rusted beyond repair, while others may yet be restored and reused.  The point is that they simply refused to let go of anything that might one day be saved. They never stops loving and dreaming about bringing the beauty back to those old things.  It doesn’t really matter if the old man ever gets them restored.  I am just encouraged by him always hoping and dreaming. 

I am so glad that God will never get tired of me!  He will never forget that I am there, or nudge me aside with His boot.  God never stops believing in me, no matter how damaged or dinged up I become.  The Masters hands are always mending, rebuilding, and restoring me to how He sees me…His own!!!!!

Book or Books?

Daily writing prompt
What book are you reading right now?

However strange it may seem, my reading usually involves multiple books at the same time. No, I’m not a marathon reader, nor do I have magic eyeballs that let me read two books simultaneously.

When I say that I read multiple books, what I mean is that I have trouble only reading a single book, one by one.

I read my bible each morning, and then I usually have between one and three other books that I take turns with, chapter by chapter. If it’s a fun fiction, I might power read through it, burying myself under blankets with a cup of tea.

My problem is, of you wish to consider it a dilemma, I don’t usually read simple stories. I have a passion for the really big Saga stories, for diving deep into something, and/or reading on topics that really make you think about what lies beneath the words written. This means I have to take a break from a tougher topic, long enough for it’s meaning to sink in, if you know what I mean.

Right now, I’m reading The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, as well as the Dragonlance Chronicles by Margarette Weis and Tracy Hickman. The first is not an easy read, and the second is an action packed, imaginative Fantasy series with everything from elves to mighty knights in shining armor, riding on the backs of silver dragons.

I know it seems like a rather odd combination, but hey… don’t judge this Willy Wonka brain! I can’t help it… it’s just what I do.

Here, take one or two of my cookies…

You can dip them in your coffee or tea. Happy reading!

(2023) Note to Self…

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

Doubt

I read somewhere that doubts were like little fears trying to come to life, or something like that. It makes sense if you think about it for a moment.

I guess when I have doubts about my writing ability, that can be seen as the same thing as fear of failure or rejection.

When I have doubts that we will ever get beyond one step above homelessness, isn’t that the same thing as fearing God will let me down… that He’s forgotten me, or simply left me here?

Some call it doubt, some call it fear, and most often, you’ll hear me call it a Rabbit Hole.

Whatever we choose to call it, we all face obstacles that can cause us to doubt ourselves, and our fear of failing to overcome sends us down all sorts of rabbit holes to try and wriggle out of things.

I think the bottom line is whether we have enough faith, or maybe enough courage, and/or enough inner fortitude to rise above the things we face.

I think it is a good idea to regularly remind myself to do some self-checks of who and what I am… to God, to others, but very importantly, to myself! If I don’t believe that I am valuable and worthy of love, how can I believe that God feels that way about this daughter of His? Does that make sense? If I don’t I am worthy enough to serve God, it makes it very difficult for me to step out in faith when He asks it of me, because I get too caught up in doubt.

So, for a healthy reminder to regularly sweep out my doubt closet, Note To Self #12 is from one of my favorite authors…

“We are what we believe we are”. C.S. Lewis

Just to make sure I have brought my point across about doubt and about believing in ourselves, I’ve included a song by Lauren Daigle called You Say. I hope to leave you with a reminder for those who need it…

(2024) On My Head, Of Course…

Daily writing prompt
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

While I’m not certain as to the significance of where I might find said hair, I would most assuredly want it placed upon my head before any other part of my body.

I suppose if I traveled across the sea, as my ship allows me to do whenever I wish it, I might find flowing hair such as Fabio,

Or better yet, silky and soft like Angelina Jolie,

or even full and glossy like Catherine Zeta Jones,

But, whichever hair I end up selecting, I most definitely want it on my head… ya, for sure there…

wait, what?

Oops… forgive my mistake… I thought it said “If you could have hair anywhere, where in the world would you want it?”

It was an honest mistake, I can assure you (I am so lying about that… I absolutely did it on purpose)!

Here, take a cookie for your trouble…

Preferably, the adulting part…

Daily writing prompt
What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?

Sometimes, one must simply call it like it is, you know?

As per societies rules about routines and such, we all get up every morning, and obediently slip into our adulting patterns… day after day after day. Ewwwww!

Of course I’m going to try getting out of adulting, if at all possible… wouldn’t you?

So just remember, if you see me adulting… well, I’m possibly faking it!

Cookie?

Photo by Marta Dzedyshko on Pexels.com

(2023) Do You Remember…

Part 2 …

So, in case anyone was waiting for the rest of the haircut memory…here goes!

Remember my girlfriend saying that I could one day laugh at her? Well, if your wondering, I did have the occasion to take her up on the offer to enjoy a laugh, at her expense.  Probably about 3 or 4 years after the Horse Hair Tragedy of 95, I got an unforgettable call...

My girlfriend declared, “I am calling you first because I said I would, and you get the first chance to laugh before anyone else does.” 

Let me back up just a tad…

From the time of his birth, my girlfriend’s son began receiving Beanie Baby Bear memorabilia from his grandmother, as well as, other friends and family.  His baby room was covered wall to wall with adorable beanie bears, all perfectly encased, in those little plexiglass cases.  Everyone knows that for a collectible, its value is in its preservation… especially the tags attached to the item, from its beginnings.

Well, with the confusing logic that’s usually employed by children, my friend’s son took it upon himself to take the tags off of all his beanie bears.  He did this, not being concerned at all with the monetary importance of the tag being intact. 

After getting all of his bears off of the shelves and out of their cases, he proceeded to get out his preschool scissors and cut off not only all of the tags, but any ear or foot attached to said tag. 

I cannot remember exactly how many bears were maimed that day, but I do know it was a lot

To this day we laugh about this memory, along with many other crazy things our babies put us through

…and, we wouldn’t have it any other way…

(2024) I’m Sorry, That’s Not On My Bucket List…

Daily writing prompt
Do you need time?

As soon as today’s prompt appeared on the screen, a song popped into my head, oddly, from something I’d seen the other day… but, for the life of me, I can’t remember where. What’s funny is that it seems a rather fitting answer to the question being asked. Well, sort of, anyway.

While it’s not fully what my personal response might be, I think the song was so popular (and probably still is) because it’s how many people feel, at some point in their lives.

Looking back from where I stand now, its glaringly obvious that I didn’t understand the reality of time, the way I do now. Probably, because I was busy being wild and free! Ahhh, the joyful ignorance of youth…

But, time itself, has a way of sneaking up on one… and then running them over, as it speeds past.

What I’ve come to discover is that no amount of needed, wanted, added, or borrowed time is fully used to its full potential…

I think we’re much better off using the time we have, instead of always dreaming and wishing for more…

at some point, that’s no longer going to be an option!

Here, take some cookies…

I picked all the sand off, I promise!

(2023) Do You Remember…

***Part 1 ***

What was wrong with this picture? 

One morning, while standing in my kitchen and talking on the phone with my girlfriend, I just knew something wasn’t right! I kept glancing out the window suspiciously towards the sound of singing. 

There was my five-year-old, happily playing on her swing set in the back yard. 

Something wasn’t right with the scene I observed, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. 

          You see, it’s usually the absence of noise that signals childhood mischief, but I could see her clearly and she was simply swinging. Wait a minute… that’s it! 

I could see her but not clearly because of the distance between us.  I asked my girlfriend to hold on a second, momentarily placing the phone on the counter.  Leaning out the back door, I called for my daughter to come into the house.  Hopping off of the swing, she happily made her way toward the back door, where I stood waiting.

 As she drew near, my eyes became riveted to her forehead, where her bangs had once been.  My baby gave herself a reverse mohawk! I saw what looked like a small monk!  She had somehow sheared off all of the hair on her forehead! 

In mortified shock I grabbed the phone up and cried to my friend, “You have to come over and look at my baby girl’s hair”! 

Hanging up the phone, I attempted to calmly ask my child what happened… note that I said attempted.  She looked concerned at my anger and said, pointedly, “My hair was in my eyes, so I got out your sewing scissors and cut it off.

  I was in tears by the time my girlfriend walked in and I turned to her for comfort in my hour of need.  All I got from her was a long round of hysterical laughter.  Point in fact, she laughed for a good bit, to my dismay.

“How can you laugh” I cried… “It’s not funny!”

As she tried to contain her laughter (not very well, I might add), my friend said, “I know this seems awful, but her hair will grow back.  Look, kids do things like this.  I’m sorry for laughing, but I can’t help it!  Its hilarious, really it is!  I’m sure you will look back on this and laugh, someday.  In fact, you can laugh at anything my kids do to me when it happens.  I will even call you first.”

After my girlfriend left, I had to hunt down all the evidence to be found.  Underneath my own bed, I retrieved my scissors… along with a massive pile of hair!  There was a lot more contributions of hair than I had anticipated, which was rather alarming!  My thoughts momentarily raced to my other children, but then quickly moved on to one or more of the family pets in the house. 

When I asked whose hair I’d found, she confidently took me to her toy pony, sittling in the corner of our family room.  The poor jumpy horse had received an army style crew cut, and was never the same after that, the poor thing.   

Of course, my girlfriend was right! I did look back and laugh. 

And if you are wondering, I did have the occasion to take her up on that offer.  Several years later, I did get my chance to laugh at her child’s silly antics. 

That, however, is another story…

(2024) On The Other Hand…

Daily writing prompt
What will your life be like in three years?

While this prompt is actually a pretty decent one, and there are at least three or four hopes and dreams that bear mentioning, I’m unable to answer just now, for several reasons… one of which is my current low caffeine level.

The second reason isn’t what you might expect. I’ve somehow managed to injure my left hand, so its been hunt and peck typing since Saturday. This question about life in three years requires a far lengthier answer than my tired little phalanges can tackle!

And, the final reason for not offering any ideas is… right now, I just don’t know about anything, with any degree of confidence!

So, in trade for my usual witty comebacks, I thought this video was rather apropos, in a twisty, windy, and roundabout sort of way:

Luckily, my magic Easy Bake oven only requires that I push a simple button…