"Hon, what does concubine mean?"

July thirty-two years ago Barbara Jordan was the first black person to keynote a political convention in our country...and I met my friend Jana Hjelmseth. We were both going to be Freshmen at Sentinel High and I was the new girl in town.

I think she secretly felt like all teen girls that age do when a new girl moves in on their turf, "...leave our guys alone you hussy, this is our territory!"
Even so, we became fast friends that summer, she introduced me to her crowd. Thanks to her, and my friendly nature, life as a teen in small town Missoula was a blast.

I moved from Montana to Portland after our sophomore year, but we were to reunite when she became an Oregon Duck. By the time she graduated college I had become a wife and mother. By the time she joined the ranks of those rolls; both our families were living in Washington, hers in Seattle and mine in Silverdale. A few years later they moved on to Colorado. Now days we try to get a visit in every 18-24 months somehow.

Ahh... but I have gotten ahead of myself in this little story.

After U of O graduation, and while living in Portland, Jana introduced us to her fella. Richard was an Ohio boy and since I was married to one myself, the four of us hit it off well. One Sunday after a church service they had attended with us, little miss social butterfly that I am, was introducing some friends to Jana and her fella Richard. "..this is so and so, and this is so and so ,and this is Jana, Richard's concubine."

DEAD silence....no comments from anyone, not a sound..."that's weird" I think to myself...oh well
"We better run and get the kids from the nursery, nice to see you all, have a great day!", said I as we exited the building.

During our drive home it dawns on me that I may have said something funny...the silence during intros just did not sit well with me for some odd reason. ;)

I replay the conversations in my head...hmmmm concubine....did I say concubine...or did I say cohort?..I think I said cohort but did I say concubine?

"Hon, what does concubine mean?"

To which he replied, "I don't think you really want me to tell you the answer to that question."

That was one loooooong car ride home. I raced in the house and phoned my sweet friend Jana to apologize gushingly. Thankfully she took pity upon me...she probably chalked it up to my being a mother of younguns or just plain stupidity either way ~ Love covers a multitude of butchered language usages, right Jana?

It would be hysterical if that morning's sermon topic was slander.

I so very much enjoy thinking that Richard sometimes gets a kick out of calling his wife of more than twenty years,"My Concubine"....I wonder if she calls him "My King David"?

Here are some dorky photos of our day together :


Hummm... the life of a concubine aint so bad




Why dos ya thun we aint got no gud hellulp in this heres Nord-strums annie vurs ree sell?




We will feel better once we enter this magic Pink Door

Darn, this picture won't rotate in here. You get the idea....great wonderful food, a little white wine...

BTW who knew blogging equals detailed work overload...I spent hours making a little film from our day...low and behold it would not upload... 3:30 AM is not an hour these eyes have seen in a very long time.

Yes!... is does bug bug bug this mostly random girl that this post is actually dated and posted the 31st when I started it and experienced it the 30th.

This hobby has me thinking that having an IT in my employ, rather than my dream of a cook, may be more time management worthy...or perhaps Fairborn Guy an additional wife..not a good idea, I am way toooooo jealous, just ask Wavita! (like I said, she is a blog waiting to happen)

Master Gardener I am Not

You mean it's easier if you weed in the spring?

...and oh look, the grass is dead!

But are those really plastic flamingos....yup and I love em!!

We were flocked a few years back, only a few very faded girls remain.

I think Miss Cindy will be proud when she returns from New York to find I used a bit of our regular telephone time in a green manner.

It's Been Ten Years...

since my supercalifragilistic, climactic yard sale high of highs! On my way home from a taxi-mom run I decided to stop at a yard sale. I found an antique photo of Abraham Lincoln unframed and smallish, along with a few other things I do not recall. When paying, I noticed a small sign that advertised a bedroom set for sale. I inquired because I am a great yard sale client and because I had been longing for a real live grown-up bedroom set for several years. My dream set was antique with a headboard and foot board. The memory is vivid; walking into the dark basement back room of the woman who was selling the set, laying eyes on it and feeling astonished that it was more beautiful than I ever thought I would find. In addition, the price for it was delicious! I have had retail highs of this nature, like the IKEA flooring I found in the dent section for 7 dollars a box...yowza! You need to know that store retail highs and yard sale retail highs are not at all the same. Yard sale highs are higher, much higher! To date the bedroom set is my yard sale high unmet. The ole set has been a good friend to me; it beautifies my bedroom in spite of my daily habit of not making my bed, it provides a place for one of the superior benefits of my marriage to be enjoyed and it holds the clothing items that are needful to cover and warm us.
Now for the point of this story: today I decided to yard sale, I wanted retail therapy from a lonely 5 days without Shannanigans or Fairborn Guy (he got a call from Coram Deo on Monday asking if he would bring Wavita to the rescue, more on her later). I don't yard sale these days, it is too anticlimactic...thank you delicious bedroom set yard sale discovery memory. Today was a planned exception, three gals out for the fun of it. I hope you are wondering weather or not it was worth it. Sadly my venture today was not the surpassing yard sale high of highs, but I did acquire a singer sewing machine (have no idea if it works or not yet) and a toaster that is 1/4 broken. for FREE!! Now that is therapeutic in spite of it's anticlimacticness.

“What do you have to blog?”

“Hey Babe, did you see my blog site link that I emailed you today?” To which he replied matter-a-fact the question above.
It is a simple enough question for Fairborn Guy to ask me, right? But I find the answer to be my very quandary. My question to his question is “What do I choose not to blog?”
I seem to have the capability to talk for hours about nothingness, not to mention the endless list of things that are somethingness. But as you all know, blogging is not only about the writ, thank you digital and video technologies!
Little does Mr. Bloggless know that the things I will choose not to blog about when I choose to blog, if listed, could actually be endless? Can anyone relate? So for today I will choose to blog, in photo, my appreciation of feet.

Coram Deo (before the face of God)

Tomorrow

Shannanigans,

along

with

the middle

and high

school

students

from Kairos,

will be heading out to enjoy Coram Deo summer camp.

Hey Guys…though Fairborn Guy and I will not be joining you this year, I will be dancing with you here in my living room daily, expecting God to meet you face to face with more of His Glory. Have a blast and wear your sun screen. Muah!

Tink Meets Blogger

It's all Miss Cindy's fault...she has been talking for months about how much fun it is going to be to join the blogging world. I recall that in 1998 she did the same thing with quilting...that "useless" hobby that I was sure I had no interest or time to partake of, right? My heart belonged to decorating for crying out loud. I was entranced with transforming our then home, mobile home to be more exact, into the cottage of my magazine infested dreams. I had spent months searching garage sales, shabby chic holes in the wall, resale shops and antique stores for the perfect smallish mirror to cover our ugly circuit breaker box in my newly remodeled laundry room-gone-entryway. With one failed attempt after another Miss Cindy would suggest that I make a wall quilt instead. My response was "no thank you, I do not have time for all that chopping and sewing". Besides, the supplies needed to accomplish the art would put me in the poor house. As quilting fate would have it, one day I was sharing my mouthy complaints about the un-found mirror of my dreams and Miss Cindy's crazy suggestion to another quilting friend of mine Miss Lynn. She ecstatically offered to lend me all her supplies so I could try. I thought this was a terrific two-fold idea. One ~ I would create a darling quilt to cover my ugly circuit box. Two ~ I would prove to Miss Cindy that this quilting thing was not my cup of tea. I achieved the former but thankfully the later not so much...I was instantly smitten. Will that be the case for me here in the land of Ever Ever Blog? It is here that I, Tinkerbelle (Tink for short), shall embark on the Ever Ever Land of Bloggsville...only the Great Blogger of Blogs knows for certain what my blogging fate shall be. Btw Miss Cindy, get going on your wannabe blogging, it will be too lonely out here without you!