dieting

Dieting


Well I've gone on a diet and actually lost down to 160 from 210.(At least
that's where I think I started, I never got on the scales at the doctor's
office no matter how much the tech pouted that it was her job to weigh me, "you
don't need my weight for a pap smear." When I was going for my gastric reflex the doctor's advice among other things was to lose weight. A heavy girth
pushed on the stomach contents and made things worse. The doctor would
snip, "Of course, I can't tell you how much to lose because I see you refused
to get weighed." "I'm sorry, I thought you went to medical school, can't you
visually assess that I'm fat. I can't hide it so if you can't see it maybe I
need a new doctor." "What do you see as patient accountability in this
process?" he would ask. "I'm accountable enough to fill the prescriptions I
come here for. I think that's enough!" For some reason he dismissed me as a
patient.

I was hoping no one would discover I was dieting because the pressure of
continuing to eat right is tremendous. You start shedding pounds and everyone
gets involved. When I observed no one did notice I started shouting,"What's
wrong with you guys, can't you see I've lost weight!" (so I don't know what I want, is that a surprise?") Now everyone is calling me skinny. Give me a
break. I'm still 20 pounds overweight. They have me feeling so good I might
just stay here for a while. I fit back into my "newest" old clothes, the ones I
bought when I said I wouldn't buy anymore clothes till I lost some weight. Now I have bargaining power on both sides of the fence. Of course I'm a little
jiggly from the lost mass that cushioned my skin from my muscles (I used to
wiggle when I walked, now its jiggle, wiggle, jiggle, wiggle) so to rectify
that I wear my pants a little tighter to firm up some so I can't go out
anywhere that requires sitting.(Don't ask how I sit behind the steering wheel,
ut think "indecent exposure".

I'm often asked how I lost weight.(Losing weight is another topic
altogether, loosing implies you want to find something, I sure don't plan on
advertising in the lost and found section of the paper for it.) I have to
answer the question with another question, "How do you think I gained
weight?" "By over eating and not exercising." "Okay, duh, then maybe I lost
weight by reversing that process!" Why do people always assume you've
discovered some magic formula? You mention dieting and exercise and the subject
changes to the weather. I am not going to read a book to slim down. I got fat reading, reading menus, cookbooks, eating for two coupons, etc. etc.

When I sit down to lunch I drink my slim fast and drool over the chewable food
of my dinner partners. They in turn offer me some from their plates. Hey,
thanks for the help. These nursing professionals obviously have no concept of
the purpose of slim fast. "Is that all you're having for lunch, here try some
of this." Get behind me Satan, (no really, push your pitch fork in my back and
make me eat!!!) I want to honestly yell, "the devil made me do it!!!" No.
No, I’ve come this far. Let's see where I'll end up. Maybe I'll get so thin
people will ask, “May I have your autograph Miss Robert's, I'm a big fan of
yours." (I know losing weight will also make me look twenty years younger and
taller, so shut up!) If we lived in the 60's the stress would be over, Marilyn
Monroe was no bean pole. I'm not overweight, I'm just out dated, maybe my size
will come back into vogue. Then there is always someone at the lunch table at
work that steps in when they see me reach for the last cookie. "You don't need
that." Where were they when I was getting fat. It didn't bother them that I ate
it then, now when I have withdrawals they open their mouths,(to put the food
that I don't need in their pie holes! if I don't need it, why do they). For
dieter’s withdrawals means withdrawing food from someone else's plate when they
step away from the table for a second, being careful to not chew in front of
them, remember slim fast is liquid, what would I be chewing? If I could pick
pockets as good as I pick plates I could retire.

Shopping is a task. I go with blind folders on past the candy, chip, bread, and
soda sections. (I get badly bruised hitting other carts in the process, whose
owners are on cell phones and not paying attention to where "I'm" going). After
grocery shopping I look like I was the looser at a karate tournament. Have you
noticed how many labels say sugar free but omit the fat content? My daughter in
law offered me sugar free peanut butter cups. Great, 170 calories from fat, but
no sugar. And the foods I over eat are now in 100 calorie bags. That’s
preposterous. Now I have to eat five bags at a time to get a single serving, not
cost effective.

I get discouraged when I see I've only lost 50 pounds in eight months. I acquired it faster than that. Then I start the calculations. Fifty divided by eight is about 6.25. That means only six lousy pounds a month. That disheartens me. I'll never get the rest off in time to wear my thongs this season (bathing suit, not foot wear). Then I proceed to multiply six pounds times twelve months and get seventy-two. (I know that's right, I'm using a calculator.) Okay, if I were to gain seventy two pounds a year I'd have go up from 135 (my lowest known weight) to 351 in three years. So I say, "Self, (I'm the only one that listens to me) maybe losing six pounds a month is pretty darn good". I'm so glad my parents sent me to that red building with all the books to learn reeding,
riting, an rithmetic. And I thought they did it just to get me out of the house
and away from the kitchen.

I know it's a fad to wear loose clothes, especially pants but I don't get it.
Mine are getting real loose and I need both hands to break the fall if I trip
over them. How can these kids go around holding up their pants with one hand
and cell phoning with the other? At least it cuts down on crime, they can't
tear themselves away from that important phone call so if they reach for a gun
with the other hand their pants fall, and we all know how hard it is to run
with your pants wrapped around your ankles. (I know this because the phone
always rings when I'm in the bathroom!)

I'm so glad I didn't thin my closet out too much. It's a real delight to fit back into something I wore two years ago. Loose fitting tops are okay, they won't fall off but bottoms are another story altogether. Most of my pants are drawstring, (I anticipated the weight to go more up than down,) so I just draw the string tighter , now I look like one of those balloons, tight in the midsection and puffed up everywhere else. The crotch hangs down to my knees but at least I don't need two hands to hold them up. The trouble here is with room to grow it makes me want to refill. I won't buy more bottoms till I stabilize!!

Exercising is a challenge. I get on the treadmill and my new puppy wants my
attention. She stepped up behind me and got the surprise of her little life.
She only did that once however. As I trot along she snips at my shoelaces. (I
have to stop every five minutes and retie them, combining cardiovascular with
stretching.) When I lie down to do sit ups this little face melds with mine so
you can't tell us apart. Her little body straddles my neck and her tail goes
ninety to nothing. Imagine doing sit-ups with nine pounds on your trachea and a
wet tongue washing your face and a tail dusting your legs (that part feels
kind ‘a good, if I could just get her to do that to my back.) She is so helpful
when I get dressed. She attaches herself to my pant legs and I do leg lifts
with the extra nine pounds. Ten on each leg. Unfortunately my pant leg hems
look a little frayed now. Mopping is great exercise. Place mop on floor,
swirl, attract dog, swirl with nine pound mop head making big circles till dog
swaggers away. Or play dodge mop. See how much you can clean before dog teeth
clamp on to mop head. I never score high on this game and I've lowered myself
to dog level slipping on the wet floor getting more tongue in my face that I
need. I believe dogs invented French kissing.

Now that I've spent a life time with weight problems going up and down the
scales I pray that life over the rainbow won't be so complicated. I hope that Sanders guy has learned to bake chicken instead of deep frying and Mrs. Baird and Mrs. Smith have eliminated pastries from their shops. And I hope Betty Crocker brought her heart healthy recipes with her. Please, I don't want to see a Pizza Mansion on every corner, (there will be no huts in heaven). I also hope my cup that over flows isn't filled with slim fast. If flying is another exercise gimmick I'll be the first in line at the motorized cloud store. I guess we'll just have to weight (wait) and see. Now that I think of it, those loose robes might be concealing more than our spirits, but who cares, without gravity maybe we'll all weigh the same, we are supposed to be equal up there.

a dieters world

A Dieters World

The world is against us dieters. There is no escape. We are all victims of
sabotage. Try cutting back on your calories. It's nearly impossible. Sometimes I go down to the cafeteria at lunch time. I work in a hospital, so I expect to see healthy food. And there is actually a splendid salad bar...past the pizzas, fried chicken strips with French fries and taco salads made with sour cream, guacamole, cheeses and fried beef, hot dogs, and chili dogs, oh my. Now, I got overweight because I couldn't go past these greasy delectables, no willpower.

They were closer and quicker to get to, the salad bar being at the very back, but it also had the smallest line. And at the cash registers, snacks, chocolate chip cookies, pound cakes and muffins for those who did have the will power to pass them up in the food line. They wear you down till you can't take it anymore. Now, to avoid the cafeteria I bring Slim fast to work. I also bring raisin bran for breakfast, throwing some fruit in the mix also. So what can trip me up next? Sales representatives bringing donuts and bagels with different flavored cream cheeses into our lounge, our private sanctum, to entice us to listen to their spiel on their fantastic products. Our bosses conspire against us also. They bring goodies to the monthly staff meetings. Come on, we're in the health profession, diabetes, high blood pressure and (gasp) obesity run rampant through our ranks! Walking down the sacred hospital corridors I pass many offices with candy jars in them.

These are magical candy jars, they start calling my name the closer I get. I'm invited to help myself. The owners don't eat the confections, they just harbor them for unsuspecting innocents that are slammed with guilt right after the last ounce has descended down their throats. I'm signing up for the
witness protection program and getting a new name. Then come celebrations. I had a birthday/anniversary weekend at a fine resort. What is in abundance? Good food, candy stands, more good food, more candy stands, next to clothes stores with size three outfits. No one was buying them because we were all size 18's and 20's(all numbers are fictional and any resemblance to real life is coincidental). Then there were wineries galore. We toured three of the eight vineyards complete with four ounce samples of fermented beverages and yummy treats. After the first winery I gave my wine tickets to my spouse. He looses weight easily, (if you consider 50 mile bike rides almost daily easy) I'm not about to go that far to loose a few pounds. I've done pretty well so far. I'm down to the last size clothes I wore before I super sized, we're not talking small or medium, heck, we're not talking about it at all, I'm just glad I didn't throw them away. I don't get on scales though because I don't want to be disillusioned. I actually didn't feel over weight, I thought I looked great until .... I got a picture of some obese dough girl and realized it was me! I am not about to get a book on weight loss. I'm an educated person. I know what got me fat (overweight, obese, what's the politically correct word?). I actually got fat reading,(well in reality it was the snacking that went with the reading that did it.) The only thing you loose buying diet books is money while some one else gains dineros. I will only read short hints in magazines and papers. I started cutting back on things. I actually only had to eliminate one item from my diet...food, but I resolved to start with just sugars and breads, chocolates, fats and salt. I feel better without all the sweets in my system, I don't feel like sludge is flowing through my veins. I have more energy so even if I don't take part in marathon bike rides I get on my treadmill more. My family is in collusion against me. I have two sisters-in-law, two brothers-in law, a mother in law and numerous nieces and nephews. What does this mean in calories?

Monthly, if not weekly birthday parties, anniversaries, weddings ect, ect. If you don't get a slice of chocolate cake they want to know why, you say you're dieting, they say one piece won't hurt you. No, but one slice twenty times a month with ice cream will. (I started telling them I had cake when they weren't looking.. WARNING: dieting can lead to lying!) It's just easier to gain weight. Go with the flow. Buy new, larger clothes regularly. Enjoy your weight. Eat drink and be merry then get buried. Give up the fight? I refuse. I don't want to die young, please help me!!! Our father who art in heaven, don't give me today my daily bread. Forgive us our weight and we'll forgive our tempters. Do not lead us into sweet temptation and deliver us from the devil's food cake. Amen.

lets boycott the bus

People are planning on boycotting four Fort Worth buses because some group called The Coalition of Reason has paid for signs saying "Millions of Americans are good without God". Well, speaking as a Christian myself, so far I don't see anything offensive. I know lots of good people who don't believe in God; I just didn't know how many to pray for. Well now that question has been answered.

Come on guys, is this new news? Did we just lose our blinders and wake up to reality? Non-christians are all around us and are the reason we're still here. God doesn't plan on his triumphant return until we Christians have reached every lost soul with the gospel. We do mission work in some of the roughest countries in the world yet we can't board a bus in our home town because all of a sudden we realize there is the possibility of sitting next to an Atheist, a Buddhist, a Wiccan, or an Agnostic? Somehow I don't think boycotting buses will reach the lost, nor do I think firing back with Pro-Christian signs is a way to bring souls to Christ. As I read the gospels and follow Jesus's outreach program, you know, where he went to the mountains to proclaim the good news, I don't recall he used sheep dogs to round us up and corner us, nor do I recall where he boycotted groups that believed differently from him. In fact, if memory serves me right, he actually went into the homes of those that had opinions differing from his. He ate with them, healed their sick and washed their feet.

If we truly want to boycott those with differing opinions we have to leave the world, but that's not exactly feasible is it. Thank heaven Jesus didn't boycott this world. He knew there were millions of people down here that "were good without God", yet he left heaven to come and live here so we can learn what we were missing, that there is something better than good; and we can't get on a bus! Give me a break.

Just like the Scribes and Pharisees tried to get Jesus' goat, (and failed), non-believers try to get our goat, and since we fall way short of the righteousness of God, some of us let them. I'm reminded of the song "There ain't no mountain high enough," by Diana Ross and the Supremes. People will do anything for love, supposedly, but they walk around a water puddle in the street before they help someone. Christians are dying for their faith in hostile lands for love of the lost and yet we can't get on a bus. It's just a sign, folks. It's a personal opinion, folks. Its freedom of speech, folks. The same freedom we want, but shouldn't expect according to the gospels that predict we’ll be at odds with father, mother, brother and sister and most of us don’t leave home if our family are non-believers! If we want to post things we believe in, we must be fair and allow others to do the same, barring hate speeches and obscenities.

And the suggestion of Christians firing back with signs of our own agenda; Phooey. That will create an unending cycle. Somehow, in this economy I feel like the money spent on one upping the Coalition of Reason would be put to better use being donated to homeless shelters, Habitat for Humanity, Image no Malaria, The Union Gospel Mission, Safe harbor, to name a few. Why throw money down to show our difference of opinion with non-believers? Aren’t we suppose to love and forgive? Doesn’t God expect us to be good stewards of our resources? Can’t he fight his own battles? After all vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. If he’s offended by the signs I think we should be praying harder than ever for the Coalition of Reason, not boycotting their bus.

Boycott: to cease or refuse to deal with something such as an organization, a company, or a process, as a protest against it or as an effort to force it to become more acceptable. Please show me a scripture to support this!

P.S There are two places in eternity you won't find atheists, heaven or hell.

Psalm 37:1
Luke 23:34
John 17:18
mathew 10:34
Mathew 24:9-13
1 Cor. 5:10
1 peter 3:9-11 the face

Phoenix

Every morning at work we would plug into a wildlife cam and follow the daily life of one small bird. We were first introduced to it as a trivial white egg then a blob of … bobbing white fuzz? Then it grew dark feathers. We would enthuse every time it moved by lifting a wing or sitting on its butt and spreading its tiny perfect little wings. We count to see if our babies have ten fingers and toes, mommy birds count wings. When it strutted to the nest’s edge (an edge enforced with twigs by devoted parents to prevent their youngster from falling out) we all held our breaths, without being aware we were, till it backed away and safely re-centered itself in the nest at a safe distance from the death defying fall it would take to the forest bottom where it would become prey to carnivorous wildlife. We awed every time mom appeared with food. Oh what we learned about parental love! Even birds have it. In fact, sadly, they may abound in it more than some humans.

Mom, or dad, would hold the food with strong talons, take a bite of flesh, lean down and gingerly place the nourishment between small beaks. Such large birds, such a small baby, such gentleness! Occasionally the food would be alive and we’d see a fish flopping around on the floor of the nest. The cycle of life. One life for another.

Nothing dramatic, just day to day survival at its most boring. We watched her progress from white downy chick to dark feathery eaglet, we were there as she learned to walk, stand, hop, jump and perch (hop, jump and perch is not the name of a dance!) We didn’t know we were falling in love. With scientific accuracy we eagerly awaited the climax. The day our baby, the world’s baby, would step off the edge of the nest and fly. We knew what day that would be. July 18th, 2010. Experts knew that it took eighty days exactly till the loving parents escorted the fledgling to the precipice and….pushed her out! Really, it does take love to push our babies out, it’s a natural act and shouldn’t be avoided.

Things had been going on so predictably boring for seventy five or so days we didn’t expect the unforeseeable. One day we turned on our computer, plugged in the website and found….Its hard to say this, we found ….our baby wasn’t moving. She was laying face down, wings spread out, body cold. She had died without apparent reason, just days before she was to soar on the wings of the wind. Just days before her live become more challenging. Just days. And we all saw it. We all cried. We all prayed for her to rest in peace. RIP. We all got on Facebook to seek answers, comfort , support. To share YouTube moments of her transitory seventy five days of life. We were anxious about her parents, twenty-six year old bald eagles. We witnessed them grieve, we watched them observe, perched on another tree, the tree climbers retrieve their child’s lifeless body from the nest. We watched the rescuers lovingly handle the small body. Small? I didn’t realize it was about the size of my Shih Tzu.

The point being we followed an insignificant bit of nature, way in the treetop of a tree way in the wilderness of a country hundreds of mile away from some of us, continents away for most of us and we fell in love and got our hearts broken. That’s what love does to us.
Let’s put this on a bigger scale. Imagine a cam recorder in, let’s say, every house, tent, igloo, RV, hut, trailer, car, office, castle, ditch, cave, farmyard…are you getting the picture? I said imagine, but guess what? This isn’t make believe, we are all being watched in our humdrum day to day activities of daily living. We are all being monitored as our parents care for us, as we care for our children, as we care for our pets, as we turn over in our sleep, when we stub our toes, when we get a splinter in our fingers.

And guess what else? Someone is falling in love with us. No, let me take that back, he’s not falling in love with us, he’s always loved us, without reservation. Guess what else? He cries when we hurt, he grieves when we stray and he’s tuned in when we die. And just like science, he knows what day that will be, that day we step to the edge and take to the air, even though we don’t and shouldn’t! And on that day, just like when our little baby bird was handled lovingly by it’s rescuers, we will be held in strong tender hands and we’ll soar forever with the eagles!

The final Independence day

The final Independence Day

Something like thirty centuries ago a man named Moses, anyone ever heard of him, fought for his people’s independence from the Egyptian government that was placing hardships on his people. You know, killing new born male babies and forcing slaves to build more and more buildings, cities and pyramids with less and less material that they had to provide themselves! If you aren’t familiar with the story rent or buy the great movie The Ten Commandments. (Or just read the book of Exodus, right behind Genesis, in your bible, assuming you know where you put it last!) Moses was aroused to action by God, you know, a guy some Americans believe is some mythical figure in the sky, to free his nation, the people of Israel. How many mythical figures do you know that can persuade million of slaves to follow them through the dessert to a promised land? Well there have been false prophets arise over the years but where are their followers three thousand years later?

And we celebrate yearly that day of independence, first as the Passover, the night when the angel of God passed over Egypt, killing its firstborn child, calf, colt, kitten, puppy, piglet at the same time passing over Israel protectively sparing every living thing. Then latter, a few millennia ago as Easter, the day God in the persona of Christ died on a cross for our freedom from the tyranny of Satan, the prince of the power of the air, the prince of darkness. You know, that other mythical figure that has enslaved us with drugs, delusions, and addictions, making us build more and more webs of entanglement with less and less resources. People at the start of these events set a day aside yearly to remember what God has done for them and us. People who witnessed the actual events and passed the stories, not fables, down to us, people who didn’t believe God was a mythical figure because they saw him in action, felt his breath on their necks, touched his wounds!

Fast forward to the American Revolution where several men heard the call of God. Our God given rights to freedom were once again being slowly removed by another country that was binding us with the yoke of slavery. During the American Revolution the battle cry was, “No King but King Jesus!” and the biggest campaigns for enlistment in the army were done in the pulpits. Preacher after preacher preached “there is a time to preach and a time to fight.” Pastor John Peter Gabriel Muhlenberg preached such a sermon; pulled off his clerical robes to reveal his revolutionary army officer uniform and marched off to join General Washington. It’s not a crime for Christians to fight for freedom, the banner of Christ and Old Glory can wave together in harmony!

People could be recruited for the fight for freedom in church because our founding fathers attended it regularly. In fact in 1665 the New York legislature ordered that a church be built in each parish capable of holding 200 people. Our nation was built on Christian principles, the bible was the text book of school children and after the revolution Congress opened (and still does) with the prayers of a paid chaplain. On May 1, 1789 Reverend William Linn was the first paid minister to the House of Representatives, earning a salary of $500 from the federal treasury. How our fathers interpretated separation of church and state eludes me, but somehow they still expected this nation to have God as its ruler, it’s King. Warren Earl Burger, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court from 1969 to 1986 said, “The men who wrote the first amendment religion clause did not view paid legislative chaplains and opening prayers as a violation of that amendment…the practice of opening sessions with prayer has continued without interruption ever since that early session of Congress.”

Our fight for independence was guided by God and God was very much a supporter of our independence as he was very often consulted by those who died for our independence; by educated men who feared and revered God and his principles, men who ran our country. George Washington was frequently seen on his knees (no, not by me!) praying for God’s guidance and many presidents since quoted God or referred to God in their speeches without shame or apology, in this country on public airwaves or in print for all to hear or read. When presidents are inaugurated they place their hands on a favorite bible verse for crying out loud, because they believe in the word of God and if they don’t, well God help them! Are we to believe our country was founded by a group of delusional men who died for a mythical figure and encouraged hundreds of young men and women to die by their sides! Was our country’s freedom won on a hoax! I think not, but then again, I’ve been accused of being delusional because I believe in God!

“Providence has given to our people the choice of their rulers, and it is the duty of our Christian nation to select and prefer Christians for their rulers,” John Jay, first Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court.

Now we are fighting another war for freedom. The freedom to be Christians on Christian soil! Crosses are removed or stolen from public places and hidden, the Ten Commandments are prohibited to be displayed, (mostly because so many Americans violate every one of them daily), prayers aren’t allowed at public functions, we can’t use the word Christmas in December, and on and on the list goes.

It won’t be long now before the argument of whether God is a mythical figure will be resolved. A final war will be fought one day (it will be pretty one-sided actually) and the losers will lose big time! That mythical being will reveal himself to the atheist, agnostic, Satanist, wiccan, and all others who have enjoyed the freedom to be wrong bought for them by the blood of Judeo/Christian martyrs centuries ago, and the battle cry, “No King but King Jesus” will be realized. I can’t wait to be there to see the enlightened faces of those misinformed Americans who are trying so hard to remove God from this land as I cry, “No King but King Jesus! No King but King Jesus! No King but King Jesus!” On that day the shoe will be on the other foot as we see who gets removed from the land! Then they will get to meet that other mythical creature, Satan, now reduced to their level of torment and anguish, and wonder how they let him deceive them! So sorry, so sad, too bad! But hey, Congratulations, now you won’t have to put up with God and his symbols any more.

Gen 1:27
Exodus
John 12:31
Rom 2:12-16
Gal. 5:1
Eph. 2:2
Rev. 1: 7
Revelation 11:15
Rev 20:14-15

running with the big dogs

I know somewhere under here that life exits! I can feel it moving, I can hear it breathing, and can smell its breath, I just can’t see its face! Whoops! That was its tongue, (I hope) that just assailed my chin. It had to be a tongue; although I couldn’t locate any labels I was pretty sure I was holding it right side up! Oh the heck with it, down it goes! I placed the mass of brown, white and black fur on the patio and off it went into the melee, not the least bit intimidated by the size or ferocity of the other dogs. It intended to be a player not an observer in the fun. It may have looked like the black lab was in the lead being followed by the smaller white Shih Tzu but in reality it was being herded by the smaller canine who was being chased by the even smaller… dog I think, not being sure because it was cleverly camouflaged with fur, lots of fur.

Whenever I let Tasha, the lab, out to do her thing (can you guess what that means?), Tessie, the Shih Tzu, feels it’s her duty to dissuade Tasha from lingering about and having any free time away from her. You’d think Tasha having 35 extra pounds than Tessie would be in charge but no, there’s a reason it’s called a Napoleon (in this case Napoleona) complex, and Tessie holds a certificate in it. There they go, around the above ground pool with Tasha in the lead, Tessie close on her heels and Mikki, the newest addition, scuttling along without a clue to the objective but full of exuberance. Oops, Tasha was cornered by the back fence; no, she spun around, sailed elegantly over Tessie and changed course. Mikki halted, confused, but not for long, he had to take crucial action to avoid being trampled by the oncoming duo. He side stepped to safety; no, the wind from the racers blew him to the side since he only weighed four plus pounds! I’m not sure the older dogs even noticed that there was a third participant in the game, though Tessie considered it serious business, keeping Tasha in line and aware of whom the boss was.

Mikki, head held high, (once again, I was only guessing that was the head, he could have been running backwards!) took off behind the group, nibbling at tails, ankles, ears, or whatever. He had no idea what was going on but he was determined to let the two senior dogs know he wouldn’t be ignored; even though he was being ignored. Ignored of course until he body slammed Tessie. Wrong move. Oh so wrong! Tessie turned her brutality on Mikki, but only temporarily because Tasha was still her main objective and her main objective had dashed behind an upside down canoe where she taunted Tessie by slapping the bottom of the vessel (which of course was on the top?????)

Tasha was winded with her pink and black tongue hanging down to her navel (obviously that chow that hits every home in America had visited Tasha’s mom), yet she remained on her hind legs supporting herself upright on the canoe while Tessie yapped viciously at her from the opposing side. I would hate to translate what she was barking into English and loose my dubious standing as a lady!

Mikki, who had gone totally submissive during Tessie’s tirade - lying prone on the ground, paws over his head, tail curled around his body when she was attempting to subdue him a few seconds ago-, took advantage of Tessie’s absolute focus on Tasha prancing up to her where he courageously (or very suicidally) took a morsel from Tessie’s rear; not her tail, her rear! He would not be ignored or treated like a baby, after all he was twelve weeks old, that was old enough to leave home and start a new life. He was a man now, on his own, so to speak, exploring a strange new world, seeking out new life, boldly going where no puppy (er.. twelve week old man/dog) has gone before.

Oh, did Tessie change focus! She reinstated her full attention on Mikki! Poor little Mikki, he was a goner now. Mikki took his punishment like a man and bounced back with determination. Mikki had spunk, even if he was a foo-foo dog with a girl's name,( at least he can't read to know his name has the feminine spelling, but as determined as he is i wouldn't be surprised if he did become literate some day!)

Eventually Tessie galloped up the porch and into the back door with Tasha on her heels. Mikki made it to the steps and comically hit the brakes, as though he had smacked into an invisible barrier. I think he had psyched himself up, chanting to himself, "I can do it! I can do it!" but like Peter on the sea he looked at the steps and faltered seeing the improbability of success. I couldn't squeeze a finger between his belly and the ground so his stubby little walking sticks weren't adequate for stair stepping aerobics! He sat down on his furry behind and stared up at me; once again, that's what I assumed he was doing behind the bushy eye brows and facial fluff that had to be concealing the gel filled orbs used for sight.

Head tilted to one side, but held high, he waited me out. I waited him out. I wanted him to give it a try. Just put one little paw on the step, please. Give it a try. Nope. Nothing. He just sat there like dead weight. And just like Jesus reached down and salvaged Peter from sinking down to his demise I reached down and scooped Mikki up and plopped him into the house where Tessie and Tasha greeted him with doggy bites and head butting. They greeted him! They welcomed him into the house! They weren't ignoring him anymore! How quickly dogs assimilate into packs! All Mikki had to do to prove himself was try to keep up.

Somehow this reminded me of my walk with God. How, you ask? Well, since you asked....Reading my Bible I get overwhelmed by trying to follow the big dogs, Moses, Abraham, Joseph, Isaiah, Paul, John ect. They got their names in print. They accomplished things. They are the big dogs in history. God saw them and called them by name. Whenever I compare myself to them I feel close to the ground, barely able to step up to the mountain. Yet I keep plugging along, snipping at their heels, endeavoring to follow them, getting rebuked by them, yes, rebuked by them via my conscience as I read stories of their achievements, yet I vault back (eventually!) They were after all made of the same soil I was, molded from the same chemicals, exposed to the same Spirit who’s no respecter of persons. I chant to myself, "I can do it! I can do it!" But when I can't, I sit and wait. I sit on my jean clad behind and wait on the Lord, and he waits for me and offers me encouragement. He gives me a chance to pull myself up and if I can't cut the mustard that day he scoops me up and places me in His home where I'm greeted by Paul, John, Peter...whoever happens to be around that day. Big dogs that have had their bad moments yet didn't give up. Big dogs who lived boring everyday lives not fully recorded. They weren't always up to the mission and sometimes they had to change directions. They had down days. They had days when they mixed the colors and the whites while doing the laundry, days they forgot to take out the trash, and worst of all, days they left the toilet seat up (at last, something I’m not guilty of!)

Yes, God knows me by name and has it in print also. I am known to him and I can't wait for him to call for me when the roll is called up yonder, where all barriers are broken down and I can join "the pack" with the other big dogs. Where I won't be ignored!

Math 10:22
Acts 10:34
Hebrews 12:1
Revelation 13:8

the new patio

Weeds, weeds, weeds! Every where I look, weeds. They’ve been growing all winter and each rain storm has made them multiply and spread. Funny, when I’m on a water diet I lose weight, but weeds just seem to get taller and invite guests. I didn’t really even notice the weeds till I got my patio finished, now when I relax on my new zero gravity lounge chair and look past the new terracotta bricks, red lava rocks that are around the tree in the center of my brand new patio, and hanging flower baskets bordering my brand new patio , that’s all I notice. They all seem to take away from the relaxing effect of …did I mention I had a brand new terracotta patio surrounded by flowers and red lava rock? If not, here I go again……

Well, I just thought my work was done; now instead of breaking my back laying bricks for a patio, I’m on my knees pulling up weeds. It’s a shame too; they are the only green thing that grows on my lawn. As I pull up one loosely rooted weed another springs up to take its place. This is one of those endless, thankless jobs that I just love looking forward to doing. Please, take careful note of the sarcasm; I don’t want it to be wasted. If I wasn’t afraid of weed eaters, due to my clumsiness, this job would be easier. But I figure using a weed eater for five minutes then spending a day in the emergency room doesn’t compare to the hours of manual labor even though some of those interns are kind’a cute.

Apparently, more than weeds have taken advantage of my winter sabbatical from the lawn mower, (now I will use the lawn mower despite my fears of losing toes, there is just no way I’m going to use scissors to level out my lawn!) Little trees have sprouted erratically about with roots too deep for a mere tug of a feminine hand, a calloused feminine hand with dirt under cracked nails. I have to rise from my kneeling position, brush the dirt from my knees, and search for some shears to snip these uninvited guests in two. That is really sad as I have wanted to plant some trees, but these didn’t cooperate and sprout in feasible locations around the borders, but smack dab in the middle of nowhere, yep, that’s where I live, Nowhere, U.S.A.(zip codeless)

Now, since pulling weeds is mindless work, (something I’m qualified for!) I reverted to thinking. (I know, that’s hard to imagine!) It dawned on me that the weeds sprang up from inattention; I had been too intent on building myself a peaceful retreat, developing tunnel vision, spurred on by lust of the eye. If I had just been on the job during the winter, or at least at the start of spring, I could have reduced the unwanted burdensome plant problem considerably. Ahh, a comparison is banging me on the head with vehemence! Are you ready for this? Weeds are like bad habits,(the politically correct term for sins) they can grow and multiply when we neglect to practice good habits, when we take the winter off, to just lay back and rest or divert our concentration to other projects. But the good news is bad habits can be broken or pulled up with some sweat and hard work. They only become difficult when we let the roots dig deep into the soil like the miniature trees I had to snip off with shears, those are the habits we need extra help surmounting, like alcoholism, over shopping and spending, over eating, cursing, judgementalism, to just name a few in a long list of weeds. The longer something is ignored, or lived with, the harder it is to conquer: the more drunk, broke, friendless or fat we become.

You can sit in the middle of Eden like my new red terracotta, flower lined patio with the lava rock encircled tree, {see initial paragraph for further description!} and sip mint julep tea while being invaded by an army of weeds, or you can open the word of God and succeed at legal identity theft by conforming to the image of Jesus, a process that requires daily work (effort, commitment) without time off for the holidays or seasons. Being too focused on one good deed, the patio, doesn’t excuse us from practicing regular spiritual hygiene!

P.S If however, you do find yourself on your knees pulling up weeds after the eye opening moment of discovery while sitting in your anti gravity chair on your new red terracotta brick flower lined patio with the lava rock encircled tree, make good use of the posture by multitasking, in other words, PRAY; it’ll make the time more beneficial and pass pleasurably. Oh, and wear gloves when you pull the weeds, your hands will appreciate it!