BOUND, Made fast by a band, or by chains or fetters; obliged by moral ties; confined; restrained. AROUND', prep. About; on all sides; encircling; encompassing; as, a lambent flame around his brows. ~Webster's 1828 Dictionary~
1.30.2009
Reflections...do they matter?
I am going to blame the book "Twilight", which I recently finished reading. Harsh…I know-- but that poorly written, boring, in lack of a hawt hero read, mostly catapulted my thoughts back to what I was doing when I was Bella’s age. (Not going to delve into those antics now…and btw, Bella begins as the main character in the book)
Those of you close to me might wonder why reading a teen vampire novel would produce total recall to those years as opposed to say… when I spend Tuesday nights with 30-40 high-school students via our church youth group? Excellent question, I actually wondered that myself. So I enquired-- my answer to myself I find very interesting to analyze.
The high school students in our church’s youth ministry, though most of them significantly wiser than I was at their age, do not seem as old to me as my memory of me in high school. I actually recall an illusion of me that mirrors an adult….Eeeeegads.
This makes me wonder all kinds of things like…Do you, my reader, recall yourself as an adult in your high school season? Is my recollection indicative of what I thought of myself then? If so would my life look any differently if I had not, if I actually understood that I was a kid? Which teens that I encounter in my life today perceive themselves as adults, which ones are aware they are just kids? And which of those categories of teens is actually more mature?
Enter Facebook…an abrupt contrast to deep thoughtful questions right? You see, my crazy Facebook page is fun and quirky while at the same time annoying and inefficiently usable. And wouldn’t you know that as soon as I finished reading Twilight, several high school classmates asked me to become their FB friend.
“So…big deal Tink, you have added a few blast from the past Facebook friends… whuupee!”
“Listen little Miss Pixie Dust….doncha evah trash talk my fb friends list…I will take you down!”
So how do I reverse the photo…today I see quite a different reflection! *wink wink*
~Photos copied from Google Images
1.26.2009
1.25.2009
Melodies Played By Forgiveness
The main character, Richard Pimental, is dealt a life as a child with circumstances that I could relate to…they were not replications of mine, yet our heart responses toward our mothers were what I found similar. In contrast the movie displays a life by Richard Pimental that was determined in spite of his mother issues. I eventually gained similar motivation of spirit -- but my road there was very long and resistant…not at all naturally in tact like I witnessed in this film.
Rather, I chose an attitude of victim hood that sucked many years from my life’s purpose; consequently it sucked life from my family as well. Forgiving myself of what it robbed them was one very large mountain for me to climb with countless reoccurring shame visitors rallying to convince me that I was not worthy of such forgiveness.
“Coincidentally” this morning’s worship service topic was forgiveness. It was tremendously joyful to be reassured of forgiveness truths. I was reminded without pain, what my mountain climbs laden with unforgiveness have cost, yet freely dance knowing that victory is won under forgiveness. Even better--life’s gifted purposes are released through a life of victorious forgiveness. These gifts of purpose are our music within.
What is your music within?
The House by the Side of the Road
There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the peace of their self-content;
There are souls, like stars, that swell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran;
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by;
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban;
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears
Both parts of an infinite plan;
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by;
They are good, they are bad, they are weak,
They are strong,
Wise, foolish - so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat
Or hurl the cynic's ban? -
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
~Sam Walter Foss
*Photograph is of the home my mother grew up in-taken in 1951
1.23.2009
"Improversation" Dilema
...not only do I not know where they are going, I sometimes don't even know where the sentences come from. For instance my last post's title. Oh my!
We have been having tri-computer issues, how we can be so affluent as to own three computers and yet too broke to fix them when they are dying is quite another blog post--digressing Tink--stay focused. Anyway, I was not even intending to post a blog that night. I was innocently trying to school myself on how to get my photos from my newly created Picasa web albums site to retrieve to my blog. You would think since both of these nifty places are related in parent company it would not be difficult, hah and bah humbug!
Several hours later, tired and feeling defeated, I decided I needed productivity. I felt that my sunset photo was too beautiful to not post...then got a great idea for a title, given all the media hype of the weekend. Note to self, do not save ones "great" ideas for last. In other words type in the "great" title idea pronto, not an hour later after working on a blog. After all Tink, all you have is a title and an unrelated photo you are working from, not to mention you are tired and defeated on top of being up way past your bed time...excuses-excuses!
As my reader, you are by now frustratedly thinking "Just tell us the supposed name of the bloody previous post!" aren't you?
Fine! Pre "President's" Day Weekend was the intended title of that post. I thought it was a great play on words, though it would have been better had I bloviated on about all the hype....hey it was late, cut me some "only so much brain power" slack.
Now my dilemma remains, do I fix it? Not the lack of brain power silly...the previous post title fopah. After considerable debate with ourselves we, me and all my alter egos, decide affirmatively "oh yeah!". Chow, gotta go edit a post. :)
1.20.2009
Pre President's Day Weekend
fun to chow with.
1.15.2009
Fun Photo Wars
This proud moment resulted in......
1.07.2009
Making Up For Lost Time
Background: In 1983 I was pregnant with our first child. I was working close to full time, newly married and struggling to get my relationship with Christ back on track from a derailment of significant proportions. Needless to say, the unknown art of Rap music was at the bottom of my priority list.
But tonight I was thrust back through time when I answered the phone to find a sweet friend on the other end. She called wondering if Peanut would sit for her and her husband. After the job inquiry we got to chatting and catching up--and more chatting when the topic of our motor mouths came up. She asked if I remembered the song from the 80's with words "you talk too much" in it. My memory bank held nothing of the sort. I explained to my much younger than me friend that I was busy with other things while she was out dancing the college clubs. Meanwhile her hubby found the song and let it rip in the background. Simultaneously I brought up the lyrics on Google....that's when the laughter ensued. We were busting up!!!
For those who know me this will surely remind you of me! I want to dance to it all night long...I am sad that I missed out on this cutting edge group. I could have nursed my baby to its beat and explained to my new born son the truths that he would all too soon learn...your mama talks too much!!
Shut up!!!
You talk too much...
You talk too much...
You talk too much...
You talk too much...
Hey! You over there, I know about your kind
You're like the Independent Network News on Channel 9
Everywhere that you go, no matter where you at
I said you talk about this, and you talk about that
When the cat took your tongue, I say you took it right back
Your mouth is so big, one bite would kill a Big Mac
You talk too much You never shut up
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never shut up
You talk about people, you don't even know
And you talk about places, you NEVER go
You talk about your girl, from head to toe
I said your mouth's moving fast, and your brain's moving slow
You talk too much You never shut up!!
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never shut up
You're the instigator, the orator of the town
You're the worst when you converse, just a big mouth clown
You talk when you're awake, I heard you talk when you sleep
Has anyone ever told you, that talk is cheap
You talk too much You never shut, up!!
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never SHUT UP!!!
Talking is the one thing, that you can do best
You told the cavity creeps, to watch out for Crest
You never have the story, right and exact
And then you always try to bore me, with your yakkity yak
You talk too much And then you never shut up
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never SHUT UP!!!
Everyday you are out fighting someone in the street
And you're always fighting someone you know ya can't beat
Then you wonder how, you got in this mess
Just think of what you said, then take a guess
You talk too much You never shut up!
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never SHUT UP!!!
You're always spreading rumors, whether bad or good
You're the damn Walter Cronkite of the neighborhood
The Barbara Walters, and the Howard Cosell
You always come around, with a story to tell
You talk too much And then you never shut up
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never SHUT UP!!!
Said it's everybody's business that you love to mind
And talkin to you, is like dropping a dime
You're spreading the word, like it is your job
You should be a stool pigeon, who works for the mob
You talk too much And you never shut up
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never shut up!
A big blabbermouth, that's what you are
If you were a talk show host, you'd be a star
I said your mouth is big, size extra large
And when you open it, it's like my garage
You talk too much And then you never shut up
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never shut up
You always like to gossip, just like a girl
You talk so damn much, it's outta this world
When you're reincarnated, in your second life
You won't be a man, you'll be a nagging wife
You talk too much Then you never shut up
He said you talk too much Homeboy you never SHUT UP!!!
SHUT UP!!!
SHUT UP!!!
Twenty-five hours, eight days a week
Thirteen months outta year, is when you speak
I'm tired of listening to the garbage you talk
Why don't you find a short pier, and take a long walk
You talk too much Then you never shut up!
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never SHUT UP!!!
You talk too much You could be, out of breath
You talk too much Man you naggin me to death
You talk too much Tired of hearing you speak
You talk too much Eight days a week
You talk too much Then you never shut up
I said you talk too much Why don't you ever SHUT UP!!!
You talk too much Then you never shut up!
I said you talk too much Homeboy you never SHUT UP!!!
1.01.2009
Floriography Surpirse For Me
Fairborn Guy found a delivery for me on the stoop...the delivery person had not rang the bell to announce this delightful surprise...as an tiny aside I must say; that is just wrong!
Squealing I ran for my camera...need to document this happy moment. As I run upstairs to fetch it squealing "I can't wait to see who sent these to me", Fairborn Guy hollers up after me, "How do you know I did not send them to you?" He is a humorous man...
Camera in hand, still squealing, I begin the descent into discovery. My admirer is unveiled, Candee as sent me belated birthday flowers!!!!!
Oh how SWEEEEET~
The enjoyment of this surprise gift lights a fire under my innate homeschooling nature....
A little research bug emerges as I begin to wonder where the tradition of sending flowers originated.