You know, dogs are funny things. One minute you are thinking, "What in the world possessed us to willingly bring this dirty, hyper, bug-ridden, furry, in-your-face, giant-clawed mess of an animal into our lives?!" Then the next minute you are out in 28 degree weather, at night, with a little flashlight, walking alongside Interstate 10 desperately hoping that you won't find that dirty, hyper, bug-ridden, furry, in-your-face, giant-clawed mess of an animal dead on the side of the road.
How does this metamorphosis happen? Do they have some kind of brain super-power that takes over all rational thinking? Because I am thinking the President of the United States of America, one of the most powerful men in the world, should not own a dog. Children, yes. Dog, no. Because one night, when he is exhausted from meetings, deciding to blow up small countries, a $1000/plate dinner, and tucking in his daughters, he will look around to find a friendly, non-argumentative, happy-to-see-him face, and little Fido will be missing.
First, Mr. President will crawl around looking under the bed to see if Fido is just asleep somewhere. Then he will proceed to calling him, waking up his wife and daughters,and asking whether they have seen the dog in the last few hours. Next, Mr. President will enlist the entire Secret Service on a search for Fido. All the while, Mr. President will grow more and more frantic, thinking, "I shouldn't have ignored Fido earlier today," or "I should have let him lick my plate," or "I shouldn't have kicked him when he tinkled on the United States Seal." In a span of 15 minutes, the whole Cabinet will be assembled in the War Room, sleepy and wondering what kind of national emergency is crashing down upon their heads. Mr. President will have the FBI and CIA and HSA sending pictures by fax until finally, as pure terror bursts through the President's brain, he will shout, "I don't care if we have to nuke the country! Get some lights out there!"
As soon as he storms from the room, there little Fido will be. All wiggles and jumps and licks and wagging tail, so incredibly happy to see his person that it seems his insides will just turn inside out. And Mr. President will drop down on all fours and talk doggy talk (which sounds a lot like Elmer Fudd) and wiggle and wag and happily scoop up and pet that dirty, hyper, bug-ridden, furry, in-your-face, giant-clawed mess of an animal.
I can't explain what comes over a person. I only know it does. I just hope we don't wake up one morning to find the charred remains of Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvannia and New Jersey.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
A Little Addiction
Confession time: My name is Dee Ann, and I have an addiction. It started long ago. I have been addicted for as long as I can remember. I have successfully given up my addiction for different lengths of time, but I have always fallen off the wagon. I think the longest I have been clean is 3 months.
I am addicted to sugary, buttery, cakey, creamy desserts. I love them, crave them, lose control to them. If sugar was illegal, I would be a strung-out junkie stealing TV's and GPS's so I could get my next fix. By no means am I poking fun at addictions, or making light of the horrible addictions of crack, cocaine, meth, alcohol, cigarettes or any other substance. I am not saying that my love for sugar is as devastating, life-threatening, life-ruining or has the same result as addiction to alcohol, cigarettes, etc. I am just saying that addiction is addiction; and kicking any addiction is very difficult. And the more you give in to your addiction and indulge, the more it gains power over you.
That 'gaining power over me' is my problem. I want to be solely dedicated to Jesus. But when I am craving sugar, or dessert, or cookies, (or dry, crumbly peanut butter fudge), I am not sold out to Him. I am sold out to my fleshy lusts. Ouch. That is NOT where I want to be.
The catch with an addiction is the powerful pull it has on you. To choose to NOT follow the addiction is like being caught in the undertow of a tsunami! Just picture trying to swim to the surface after you have been smacked 10 feet deep in a tumbling torrent of boat-crushing water. You might even catch a fleeting glimpse of the life preserver floating on the surface - but it is such a long way away and the water is swirling you around and out of control! Someone may be able to say, "I want to give up sugar, or alcohol, or cigarettes," when the urge is not pressing; but when the craving has reared its ugly head, all resolve is toyingly washed out to sea.
It would indeed be hopeless if not for the grace of God; He is my only hope! He is the anchor of my soul. So I am going to go dessert-free. I would rather be dessert-free than a slave to dessert! It will be hard.
A change of scenery tomorrow may help - new places, new faces, new distractions. After the first 5 days or so, it does get easier - the power over me gets broken.
Ready, Set, GO!
I am addicted to sugary, buttery, cakey, creamy desserts. I love them, crave them, lose control to them. If sugar was illegal, I would be a strung-out junkie stealing TV's and GPS's so I could get my next fix. By no means am I poking fun at addictions, or making light of the horrible addictions of crack, cocaine, meth, alcohol, cigarettes or any other substance. I am not saying that my love for sugar is as devastating, life-threatening, life-ruining or has the same result as addiction to alcohol, cigarettes, etc. I am just saying that addiction is addiction; and kicking any addiction is very difficult. And the more you give in to your addiction and indulge, the more it gains power over you.
That 'gaining power over me' is my problem. I want to be solely dedicated to Jesus. But when I am craving sugar, or dessert, or cookies, (or dry, crumbly peanut butter fudge), I am not sold out to Him. I am sold out to my fleshy lusts. Ouch. That is NOT where I want to be.
The catch with an addiction is the powerful pull it has on you. To choose to NOT follow the addiction is like being caught in the undertow of a tsunami! Just picture trying to swim to the surface after you have been smacked 10 feet deep in a tumbling torrent of boat-crushing water. You might even catch a fleeting glimpse of the life preserver floating on the surface - but it is such a long way away and the water is swirling you around and out of control! Someone may be able to say, "I want to give up sugar, or alcohol, or cigarettes," when the urge is not pressing; but when the craving has reared its ugly head, all resolve is toyingly washed out to sea.
It would indeed be hopeless if not for the grace of God; He is my only hope! He is the anchor of my soul. So I am going to go dessert-free. I would rather be dessert-free than a slave to dessert! It will be hard.
A change of scenery tomorrow may help - new places, new faces, new distractions. After the first 5 days or so, it does get easier - the power over me gets broken.
Ready, Set, GO!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
A Little Fun
Tonight was our Homeschooling Mom's Christmas Party. What a lot of fun with some quirky ladies! Sadly, I don't have any pictures to show you. We played some games, ate some yummy food, ate lots of desserts, brought gifts for a single mom and her children, and had a White Elephant gift game. I had a very successful white elephant game. By successful I mean that I got to steal two presents! And the one I ended up with is now my token Christmas decoration for the year. I stole a handmade Pennington treasure (much like Restoration Hardware!) It will probably be a collectible in a few years. It will be very easy to put decorations away this year!
The gift I brought was not as successful - in that nobody was fighting over it. Come to think of it, my dessert was not very successful either - hardly any was eaten. But I can't blame them. I tried my hand at Peanut Butter Fudge. Yes, even though my very honest daughter told me that only Grandma can make it right (which means mine is NOT right), and she was right again. When I got home from the party, I called my Mom, who is awake and ready to chat at 11 pm, and asked her, "Why is my peanut butter fudge dry and crumbly??" She promptly replied, "I don't know! I just made it today and mine is too gooey!" Finally we decided that I must be cooking it too fast and at too high of a temperature.
In spite of my personal un-successes, I thoroughly enjoyed these ladies. It is great fun to be with this amazing group of women. Each one is unique and beautiful. The only problem with these get-togethers is that there is never enough time to get to visit with everyone.
I hope that each one present had as much fun, as many laughs, and received as much love as I did!
The gift I brought was not as successful - in that nobody was fighting over it. Come to think of it, my dessert was not very successful either - hardly any was eaten. But I can't blame them. I tried my hand at Peanut Butter Fudge. Yes, even though my very honest daughter told me that only Grandma can make it right (which means mine is NOT right), and she was right again. When I got home from the party, I called my Mom, who is awake and ready to chat at 11 pm, and asked her, "Why is my peanut butter fudge dry and crumbly??" She promptly replied, "I don't know! I just made it today and mine is too gooey!" Finally we decided that I must be cooking it too fast and at too high of a temperature.
In spite of my personal un-successes, I thoroughly enjoyed these ladies. It is great fun to be with this amazing group of women. Each one is unique and beautiful. The only problem with these get-togethers is that there is never enough time to get to visit with everyone.
I hope that each one present had as much fun, as many laughs, and received as much love as I did!
A little Patience
I have an awesome computer. It plays music, makes CD’s, plays the radio, plays movies, lets me type, organizes stuff into charts, tells me what is going on in the world, connects me with my friends, invites me to parties, does my taxes, stores all 8,534 digital pictures. It does so much more than I could ever understand. But one thing my computer excels at is teaching me patience!
You see, to turn my computer on is a major undertaking. Not just because it takes a full 12 minutes to become ready and waiting to fulfill my every command, but because the monitor has a mind of its own. A mind very resistant to becoming active! I literally have to coax the monitor to light up. I have to squeeze the frame of the monitor, and squeeze the back of the monitor, and press on the screen so hard that I am sure the “Secret Monitor Police” are going to burst through my door and arrest me for Monitor Harassment. I have to use both hands, squeeze at the top, bottom, sides, diagonal edges with rhythm and consistency and patience. I squeeze until my arms are actually tired and I am hot! Once the flicker of life comes to the squeeze, I wait expectantly for the picture to follow. Usually it does, for about 45 seconds, then flashes off. Back to squeezing I go. I am the only one in my family with this talent of coercing the monitor to work. I don’t even know how I figured out this technique. I feel confident that IF I read the monitor manual, there would be no information suggesting squeezing the monitor repeatedly and firmly for at least 5 minutes. Probably you would get this sort of helpful advice:
Troubleshooting: Is the device plugged in securely?
Is the power turned on?
Log into http://www.blahblahblah.com/ for live help (where they will ask you to make sure your device is plugged in, then ask you to unplug it, wait 10 seconds and plug it back in).
I seriously doubt that squeezing the device shows up in any tech manual for any product ever – except those toys that make noise and have a button clearly labeled “Squeeze Here.” Boy, if only my monitor had that label!
It is such a victory when the monitor comes on and stays on! We cheer and I wipe the sweat off my forehead!
Now you can see the great spiritual wisdom of my computer – teaching me Galatians 5! Just don’t get me started on my printer,…..or ipod!
What teaches you patience???
You see, to turn my computer on is a major undertaking. Not just because it takes a full 12 minutes to become ready and waiting to fulfill my every command, but because the monitor has a mind of its own. A mind very resistant to becoming active! I literally have to coax the monitor to light up. I have to squeeze the frame of the monitor, and squeeze the back of the monitor, and press on the screen so hard that I am sure the “Secret Monitor Police” are going to burst through my door and arrest me for Monitor Harassment. I have to use both hands, squeeze at the top, bottom, sides, diagonal edges with rhythm and consistency and patience. I squeeze until my arms are actually tired and I am hot! Once the flicker of life comes to the squeeze, I wait expectantly for the picture to follow. Usually it does, for about 45 seconds, then flashes off. Back to squeezing I go. I am the only one in my family with this talent of coercing the monitor to work. I don’t even know how I figured out this technique. I feel confident that IF I read the monitor manual, there would be no information suggesting squeezing the monitor repeatedly and firmly for at least 5 minutes. Probably you would get this sort of helpful advice:
Troubleshooting: Is the device plugged in securely?
Is the power turned on?
Log into http://www.blahblahblah.com/ for live help (where they will ask you to make sure your device is plugged in, then ask you to unplug it, wait 10 seconds and plug it back in).
I seriously doubt that squeezing the device shows up in any tech manual for any product ever – except those toys that make noise and have a button clearly labeled “Squeeze Here.” Boy, if only my monitor had that label!
It is such a victory when the monitor comes on and stays on! We cheer and I wipe the sweat off my forehead!
Now you can see the great spiritual wisdom of my computer – teaching me Galatians 5! Just don’t get me started on my printer,…..or ipod!
What teaches you patience???
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