Moment by Moment

good busy

2009-10-28T05:56:52Z

I'm overwhelmed, but it's a good overwhelming. Transitioning to my working and my husband helping around the home is entertaining in and of itself. Yesterday, I met my new colleagues, and that was such a positive experience. I'm going to be working with some truly remarkable and caring people. I'm completely overwhelmed by books. Let's see, there's 19 stacked and open in front of me right now. Two days until the due date and 10 pages to go. *Deep breath* It can be done.

And, times up. I'll be back after the assignment are handed in. And I think I mean the one's due this week, not the whole 2 years of the program.

Not deleted?

2009-10-26T15:31:05Z

Yeah, I never got around to deleting my journal. Besides MSword doesn't have the pretty options that LJ does, and I do from time to time like to check out my friend's page, even if I'm not writing. So yeah, I've been a poor lurker for the last few months.

on second thought....

2009-09-01T02:21:31Z

I'm going to delete the journal. I loved having lj, enjoyed reading your posts. I loved the creative icons, but... I just don't get here anymore. The extent of my on-line attention span has been reduced to facebook one liners. Sad, eh? Yeah, but true.

Journal Renovations

2009-08-23T02:05:06Z

Hi ya'll. I haven't been writing. You noticed? I haven't been reading either. Might have noticed that, too.

Well, I might be back. I'm back in school and I'm required to keep a journal for my current program. I like lj but I hadn't been writing anywhere these last few months. So, if I have to write, I might just put those thoughts here.

The trouble is I'm going to be very busy, and though I'm going to be writing again, I won't be a good lj friend because I'm not going to be reading all these journals, all that often. As a homeschool mom, and a full time student, and with the support groups I'm leading, I can't possibly be reading some 36 journals.

So, is it narcissistic of me to entertain putting my journal up here if I have no intention of reading everyone else's? I think so, so I've decided that I'm going to reduce my f-list. Not because I don't like you, I friended you because I found something truly interesting about you. But, hey, I haven't looked at your journal in 6 months, so for all my intentions of getting to know you because you looked neat or said something original... um... I kinda blew it so far, so I doubt you'll miss me now.

One of our chickies

2009-04-06T19:32:15Z

chick and pink slippers
My daughter was playing with her and somehow they discovered that she really likes to perch on my fluffy slippers.

Writer's Block: Take Your Chances

2009-03-22T08:00:53Z

Do you think people deserve second chances?

Submitted By drea12301994

View 500 Answers

"Deserve"? No. People don't deserve second chances. We, and that is we folks, not "they", unless you aren't classified under the heading "people." We don't deserve second chances, but it's still good and noble to give them. Why? "Do unto others as you'd have done unto you." Do I screw up? Yes. Do I desire grace and forgiveness when I do? Absolutely.

However, a second chance, to my mind, means giving someone the opportunity to regain trust this is broken, when they truly get a clue and realize they've done wrong. Giving second chances to one who is not sorry is assuming the position of doormat, a great place to wipe dirty feet.

With regard to my reaction to the word deserve:

–verb (used with object)
1. to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to (reward, assistance, punishment, etc.) because of actions, qualities, or situation: to deserve exile; to deserve charity; a theory that deserves consideration.

How can we claim one deserves the opposite of what their behavior demonstrates? For someone to screw up and then we say they deserve a second chance is just not logical. They screw up, but out of a heart of compassion and hope for a better outcome, one can choose to show them that they are highly valued by giving them a second chance. The whole point of a second chance is in that it's not based on their merit or what they deserve but on the individual's choice to demonstrate love and mercy. As soon as you enter into the realm of "but I deserve a second chance" as some inalienable right, then we're on dangerous and potentially arrogant ground.

Yeah, he/she/we did ________ but, he/she/we deserve a second chance? Not likely. Even so, I will humbly hope for one.

(F-list excuse the rant. The answers to this question got under my skin.)

Back Pain

2009-03-21T00:09:38Z

I haven't been on the internet because typing hurts. I try to limit what I do to reading only. I went to the chiropractor today and I'm unhappy with the precious little difference I feel.

In other news:

Business is going better. We're very nearly no longer broke and in a few months time we'll doing fine again. I've taken up chicken farming in a major way and am excited about three chicken books I ordered off Amazon. We'll have nearly 200 chickens this year, of assorted and rare breeds.

*I HURT*

What else?

Miss ya all. I read from time to time but don't post. Sorry... pain. *sigh*

Uh... crap. All i can think now is, "Oww. Oww. Oy! Must stop typing now!!

Bye for now.

Writer's Block: Words to Live By

2009-02-22T02:02:01Z

What is your personal motto or favorite quotation?

View 500 Answers

"Did I do my best to live for truth?" - a line in a song by Robin Mark

"We need to know the truth with greater intimacy than we've known the lie." - author Lisa Bevere

And the old adage: "He who doesn't study history is condemned to repeat it."

However, as I get older I get more skeptical, and I really wonder if a knowledge of history will stop humankind from repeating it, and repeating, it, ... and repeating it. I mean, how many things do you do that aren't the greatest, or maybe you shouldn't do, and you choose to do it anyway? No, I'm more and more convinced that knowledge isn't enough; it's only half of what we need.

Knowledge alone will do nothing where there is no will to change.

Hmm... That being the case, I shall do my best to live for truth and not merely for knowledge.

Writer's Block: Half a Glass

2009-02-10T00:42:33Z

Do you consider yourself an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist?

View 500 Answers

Wait! There are three possible options to the glass is half full/empty scenario? No way! ...

I'm so confused. Uh, uh, well today I've been too pessimistic to claim to be an optimist, but most of the time I'm an optimist, except when it comes to me, of course, because I have to take history and experience into account which makes me a skeptical realist?

Poor Sammy

2009-02-09T23:07:45Z

Tomorrow

2009-02-09T05:50:37Z

Tomorrow I have two things to do in the city.

1. Fight my speeding ticket. I've been thinking about it too much, but I can't help but think this ticket is tremendously unfair. I get riled up in my own little head just thinking about it. So, I won't natter about it, justifying my position here. I'll give them my two bits on the subject, and see where it goes. But, every time I see a 60 km sign on a major thorough fair I feel the need to fight it. All I was doing was accelerating to 60km when I turned onto a major highway. Then I remembered it was the stupid zone and slowed down to 40km. There was no sign for me to see from where I turned on, no sign on the several blocks before, but I did remember it's the stupid zone (posted 40 km on a highway where I have never so much as seen a dog or person in 1.5 years.) Anyhow I accelerated and braked, correcting my speed to 40 km. I bet I was speeding for all of seven seconds. Imo, I got ticketed for a law abiding habit. So much for not nattering on about it. But, if my crime is worth $90 and the demerits so be it.

2. In the afternoon I pick up my Sammy. I can't believe how many times a day I've missed him. I've also been incredibly thankful that he has had somewhere safe and for him to recover. I don't need to be fretting about his bladder all day long.

Oh... my family has gathered around. later

facebook friends that I don't actually know

2009-01-29T23:09:08Z

Do you have friends on facebook that you don't actually know? I do.

If people ask to friend me, I say yes. Because, after all, why would I say 'no'?

They either want to be my friend, or think me friendly enough to add me.

Now those folks that go out and add me because I was in their e-mail address book at one time. Those I decline. But how do you say someone is not your friend? I mean it's not that I don't want to be their friend, I just never thought I was.

So, when I have a great visit with the lady selling expensive make-up in the mall in Nashville, and she asked for my email address I gave it to her. And I confirmed her as a friend on fb.

When I commented on someone's blog that I read from a link on their fic, and we corresponded a few times, and then she added me on facebook, I didn't know how to say 'no.'

Then there are people from my church. Some of them, I've never heard their names before, but they know me, because I've spoken at church a few times. Just because they know me better than I know them, doesn't mean I don't want to know them. Quite the contrary, I feel at a disadvantage as I look at their name, their photo, and our common friends, and try to remember if we ever actually spoke. So I friend them back, and try to watch out for them next Sunday, since we're friends after all, we might actually talk, right? I sure hope I know their names when I see them, but I doubt I will. Solution: just be real nice and ask general questions.

Hi, I'm back and jetlagged. Hence the random useless rambling.

Is there a way to download my journal?

2008-12-31T21:45:20Z

Many of you know so much more stuff about how lj works than I do.

I want to download and archive my journal, to date, onto my big 360 gig external that holds everything. I thought there would be a button somewhere to let me do that. But, if there is I can't find it. Ideas?

Second Chicken Tragedy

2008-12-31T16:17:53Z

An owl broke into the hen house last night. My son found it in the house when he went out to gather eggs. He came running back and I rushed out to chase out the owl. It had already killed two of our Isa Browns in the night, and one was a family favorite, Daisy.

The owl got through those lovely south facing windows we put in. It broke the glass in one window in order to get through. It's such a small slot that the window provided that I'm surprised that big owl got in, but he couldn't get back out. Must have done a flying dive to get in. The glass sprayed everywhere.

Looks like he ate part of one, and the second might have broke it's neck in a desperate attempt to get away. Second one is entirely intact, but for the broken neck. What a terrible waste, and such a huge tragedy for my dear chicken loving children. The Isa Browns are my favourite too, because they are both the friendliest bunch of girls and the best layers of big brown eggs.

DH is repairing the damage and putting chicken wire over all our windows as I type this. Wow, that's three chickens we lost this month. This is all so sad and stressful, I knew I'd make a rotten farmer.

My youngest DD is out there consoling the poor chickens who spent the night with an owl in there house. I'm so disgusted with the rooster, I think I'm going to give him back... or put him in a pot. I'll give the previous owner a chance to take him, before I do that. If he was a good rooster then he'd be the first dead for protecting my girls, but that stupid coward runs from me.

*Sigh*

But I guess you don't get the whole dramatic picture if I fail to say:

I heard the cry that the chickens were in trouble. I stuff my bare feet into cowboy boots, grabbed a winter jacket and ran out into the -15 morning in my pajamas. I ran to the chicken house in my mismatched polar fleece snowflake top and plaid flannel bottoms, unkempt hair flying about, and brandishing my ski jacket as my only weapon against the predator.

I open the chicken house door and come face to face with my nemesis. A large owl is sitting a top my precious chicken's square straw bales. It looks right back at me. We are about five feet apart. Sensitive that I'm blocking it's only exit, I holler at it, "GET OUT!" and step back. The owl quickly takes it's leave and leaves us with our dead.

Mug shot line up (trying to ID my bandit):
http://www.owlpages.com/owls.php?genus=Strix&species=nebulosa
http://www.owlpages.com/owls.php?genus=Aegolius&species=funereus

Oh, no... that's the one!
http://www.kidzone.ws/animals/birds/great_horned_owl.htm
The last picture on the page. Perfect coloring, with the ears folded back like that, too. Fact sheet on him: http://www.owlpages.com/owls.php?genus=Bubo&species=virginianus

The Inbox (edited)

2008-12-30T05:50:51Z

*Edited to add my new discovery*

What do I keep looking for in my email inbox?

I've been checking my email for days, and I keep getting surprised by the absence of something. Of what? I don't know. But, I keep going to look and, whatever it is, it's not there. There's nothing interesting there. Some itunes spam, a news feed that I subscribed to and ignore, but I keep looking for something, something that's not mass generated, something personal, fascinating and directed to me. I have no reason to assume that there is a special something coming my way, but still I keep looking.

Dec. 30th, 2008 - So I wrote that last night, then I went off and wrote a couple of people, asking them questions about themselves that I'd be genuinely interested in hearing about.

Then I got an email, it was actually from my step-son for my husband and it said, "Check M's yahoo box" for some link he sent for our updated webpage. This had nothing to do with what I was just going on about, except that I went to yahoo and discovered 400 messages. Some time ago, I clicked off the autoforwarding, and meant to fix it but didn't. Duh...oops!

So, people I thought weren't writing me are, and do I ever have a lot of email to sift through.

Whoa! I'm so there! Let's buy me an ocean!

2008-12-26T02:43:13Z

In 2009, serenitysoars resolves to...

Spend less time on trauma.
Go to environmentalism every Sunday.
Learn to play the ireland.
Find a better bible.
Buy new oceans.
Go traveling three times a week.

Wii Wii Wii

2008-12-25T06:02:38Z

No I don't have one.

But, that was too much fun. We had a terrific evening with our neighbours. And part of that terrific time included playing the Wii that their daughter got from her boyfriend. I knew I'd love it, and I knew I wanted one.

We had a whole houseful of people boxing. It was pretty funny. There were couples fighting each other. My husband came home undefeated and pretty sore from all the work he had to do to keep his title. I tried to beat him twice, at one point we knocked each other both down, it was such a close fight. But both games he beat me in the very end of the third round. Competitive? Me? Heck no! Yeah, that's why I'm going to phone my stepson and ask him to bring his Wii with him when they come down on Boxing Day. :)

icons are addictive

2008-08-22T02:10:08Z

Ok I'm spending far too much time collecting userpics. But I can have 35 now! And I've surfed day and night and only come up with 29. Talk about a ridiculous use of my time.

Yeah, paying the bills has taken a back bench to finding icons like this one. :) lol

I'll get it together, honest. We're starting school tomorrow, ready or not. Why Friday? Because when I see how ill prepared I am tomorrow it might motivate me to do something other than search for the Firefly icon of my dreams.

Pet Peave

2008-08-18T01:11:26Z

Every single time I make a comment on a friend's post, I leave a typo. Every time! I do read it over once before I post, and I miss it that read through. Yet, every time I see the comment posted there is that dang typo. Often they land in the worst place, where meaning can be changed by my typo. Argh. What can I say? I'm an idiot. *sigh*

And I don't see a way to edit a comment. I mean I edit my posts constantly after I post, for all those stupid "their" and "there" - I've always known the difference, btw, my fingers don't. But near as i can tell, I can't edit my typo ridden comments.

emotionally broke

2008-08-07T16:03:59Z

I remember a concept that Stephen Covey explained in "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" - Wait is that really the name of the book? Why does "effective" look strange to me now when it never did before? Anyhow, the concept: The Emotional Bank Account.

It went something like, in all our relationships we have these invisible bank accounts. What we do in our relationships determines how much is in the bank account. It's important to treat people well, respect their boundaries and what not, and these things add to the bank account. Then there are those negative experiences, we all know them, that cause withdrawals. Some times we need to make a withdrawal, perhaps there is a crisis and we need an ear. In such cases its good to do so. Then there are other withdrawals that we make by our own selfishness and insensitivity. Too many withdrawals results in a negative balance in the emotional bank accounts in our relationships. Following? Because I'm doing a rotten job of explaining this.

Needless to say, I like to keep all the accounts topped right up. Yet, lately it seems like every time I open my mouth, every time I move, the consequences result in another dang withdrawal. It shows me just how much I think I'm lived and accepted on the basis of what I do. I feel fearful as I see and hear myself making these withdrawals because I expect immediate rejection. I expect all the accounts to be immediately empty. But, I don't expect the people in my life to show me a little grace and forbearance.

beyond tired...

2008-07-22T22:51:39Z

Beyond tired there is this positively numb state. It is tranquil in that when the brain ceases to function it's hard to be anxious about anything. It looks like daytime so I'm up, but it's looked like day time so many hours now.

I'm home. So I find myself staring at the very green landscape around me and listening to the silence.

what the...?

2008-06-19T15:28:56Z

I don't usually swear, so as often as I see all your neat 'wtf?' icons I smile, I get the point, but until now I've never really needed one.

Get this article: Court overturns father's grounding of 12-year-old

http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/afp/080618/canada/canada_child_court_offbeat

Sometimes I think Canadian judges need to be dropped on their head as a prerequisite! Really, we do have more serious matters for our judicial system to attend to. But nah, why not hand over the judicial system to petulant children to punish their parents! I don't want to even think of their court costs. (Oh, the things that girl would be taking me to court for if she were mine.)

Bus Number One

2008-06-17T18:00:38Z

This is a reprint of a very old satirical Jerusalem Post article. I'm posting it here so I can find it again. (Excuse my excessive posting today.)

But since I have put this here I should explain, there is this thing called the Jerusalem Syndrome. People come here, on a tour most likely, and suddenly think they are someone in the Bible or next in line to the throne of David. Seriously, if you don't believe check wiki http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerusalem_syndrome

By SAM ORBAUM

(February 28) It is one of those typical Jerusalem winter afternoons. It
isn't raining, though the weatherman said it might, the Palestinians
aren't rioting, because they thought it might rain, and two guys dressed
as Jesus meet at a No. 1 bus stop on their way to the Old City.

"Say - you look familiar," says Jesus.

"Yeah, you too. I'm Jesus," says the other Jesus, offering his hand.

"So, where do you hang out? I mean, where would I know you from?"

"The Via Dolorosa, mostly. I'm a savior."

"Of course! The Fifth Station, right? I'm usually at the Sixth, or
depending on the tourist season, the Third. So. What brings you here?"

"God spoke to me."

"Yeah. Me too."

Presently, another Jesus comes by, then a Moses and two Mother Marys.

The Moses asks: "Does this bus go to the Old City?"

A very old man, who arrived in Israel by mule in '37 from Kyrgyzstan or
Kazakhstan (he can never remember which) and has been waiting for the
No. 1 to the Old City ever since, says: "Yes. You just missed one, but
it was full."

A Mary introduces herself to the second Jesus. "I'm new here," she says
pleasantly, "Can you recommend a good place to stay?"

A man in the queue - wide-brimmed hat, black suit, scraggy beard and
tzitzis hanging out - says he knows of a place, "but, if I may ask, are
you Jewish?"

Mother Mary looks at him queerly. "Haven't you read the Bible?"

"Yeah," he says, "and you're not in it."

The oldest Jesus, who looks to be about 65 and is lugging a
two-meter-long wooden cross over his back and an umbrella under his arm,
sits down on a seat in the bus shelter. The woman next to him - her hair
covered, a little book of Tehillim in her lap - jumps up. Jesus is
embarrassed.

A good Samaritan - fur-covered hat, long black frock, pants tucked into
high white socks - tries to relieve Jesus of his discomfort. "It's
nothing personal," he says. "You're a man."

Jesus blesses him.

A bus drives by, and it's empty, but it's not going anywhere.

THEN, CONFLICT: The good Samaritan and another - they look alike but the
other is wearing a fur-covered hat, long black frock, pants not tucked
into white socks - start a fearful fracas, for they are diametrically
opposed.

One believes the Messiah will come on a white donkey after all the Jews
do penance and it is incumbent upon believers to lead their fellow Jews
to the right path, and the other believes the Messiah will come on a
white donkey after all the Jews do penance and it is not incumbent upon
believers to lead their fellow Jews to the right path.

They try to tear each other's eyes out.

"The Messiah will come, yea," agrees a balding, middle-aged man who
could be either King David or John the Baptist.

"I've been here for 20 minutes already," grumbles the Messiah, leaning
against the bus stop, and his two friends, who are also the Messiah,
grunt in agreement.

Moses, who until he visited Jerusalem for the first time was Donald F.
Jefferson, an importer from Chicago, separates the grappling foes.

Jesus blesses Moses in a Belgian accent.

"Tsk," says the very old man from Kyrgyzstan or Kazakhstan, looking at
his watch. "Where is that bus?" He is worried, because prayer-time is
fast approaching.

Across the street, two cars have had a minor accident, and the drivers
are yelling at each other. A couple of people leave the bus queue to
examine the damage. One of them, God, originally from Auckland, forgives
both drivers.

A bus pulls up. But it is a pink and purple bus, not a red and white
one, and it is full of Nigerian pilgrims who have lost their way. They
were meant to be in Bethlehem.

"Turn around and go straight, all the way straight," the younger Mother
Mary - who hails from Corpus Christi, Texas, and was formerly an
advertising clerk named Constance McGucken - tells the Nigerians'
Yemenite bus driver, who learned English at medical school in Romania.

Turns out that the elder Mother Mary and an intense young man who could
only be Abraham are both from Jonesboro, and they exchange business
cards.

It is a typical Jerusalem winter afternoon.

NOT TOO many cities have a mental illness named after them, but mine
does. The Jerusalem Syndrome could not afflict people in, say, Paris or
Buffalo or even Haifa. It is our very own local insanity, and we're
proud of it.

We even have a hospital that specializes in the condition, and I imagine
the place is wall-to-wall with Bible heroes.

It could even be that one of them is telling the truth: that the real
Messiah has come, but was picked up and brought there for treatment
along with the others. How are we to know?

Jerusalem's population lacks an insignificant mass, a faceless
mainstream. There is no such thing as a typical Jerusalemite. So a guy
walks around in a white robe believing he's the savior of humanity,
that's unusual? All right, so maybe it is, but just a little.

They're non-threatening as long as the syndrome doesn't get out of hand.

You know how things happen here: We tolerate a dozen or so quaint
characters and don't notice the fruitfulness and multiplication, until
they've taken over neighborhoods, evolved into a voting bloc and put a
couple of Jesuses in the Knesset, becoming a swing coalition partner
that can make or break a government, and we've got another major
minority running the country.

Harumph.

The last time we had this threat, our heroic bureaucracy got hysterical
and took action, and that's why you don't see half a million Black
Hebrews calling themselves Israeli citizens.

Our syndromeniks are among our pleasanter delusionary zealots: innocent
tourists assuming noble aliases preaching love and peace and godliness.

Unfortunately, it is human nature to spoil a good thing.

Someday, an innocent tourist will come here, become affected and,
finding more than enough Jesuses and Moseses and Messiahs and Gods,
choose to proclaim himself Samson and start pulling down buildings and
beating people with an ass's jawbone.

Or maybe a busload of tourists will all seize up together, believe
themselves to be Roman Legionnaires and lay siege to Masada, where a
busload of sufferers of Masada Syndrome are preparing to kill
themselves.

It's harmless now, but it could become alarming, with Judases stabbing
all the Jesuses in the back, Eves running around in fig leaves, Noahs
building arks all over the place, Jobs moping about and Herods taxing
everyone to the hilt.

Come to think of it, maybe a lot more people have the syndrome than we
realize. In this town, it's hard to tell.

If you've been in Jerusalem long enough - and a day-and-a-half is long
enough - you'll see it all. Except, of course, the damn Bus No. 1.

Sam Orbaum's new book, But Seriously, is available through the Jerusalem
Post Books Department.

you are yelling at me beacuse you have watermelons?

2008-06-17T14:35:30Z

If I could change just one thing about East Jerusalem, I'd take away their loudspeakers.
Good grief! Even the man selling watermelons has a bloody loudspeaker. The guy who wants your used furniture has a loudspeaker. And so does the fellow that sells propane bottles. They all drive up and down the residential streets hollering in their loudspeakers. Can you imagine that?

Never mind the Mosques blaring out their call to prayer five times a day. Never mind the schools lining the kids up at 8 am and shouting at them with the blooming loudspeaker so that it reverberates through the neighborhood.

This guy is disturbing the peace to sell watermelons!!

It's watermelon season. They are on positively every corner. Shut up.

I am LIVID!!

2008-06-12T17:05:27Z

This book gets me so angry!

After six chapters of this school teacher trying to convince high school students they she should quit school she says,

" But I want to go to college and get a good job!
Fine. Neither depend on graduating from high school. For college, see Chapter 31. As far as jobs go, yes, there is plenty of prejudice against "drop-outs," and if you refer to yourself as one, forget it. If, on the other hand, you call yourself a homeschooler or explain exactly what you did instead of school, and why, intelligent employers will smile approvingly. (One academic study of adults who had been homeschooled found that none of them were unemployed or on welfare; the majority were self-employed or had professional careers, all were satisfied with their work.)"

Reasons for my fury:

1. I was forced to quit school at the age of 15, even if I did graduated with distinction at the age of 17. I know it was no #$%@ cake walk to get into College.

2. Second I don't want to see drop outs on the street unschooling and claiming they are homeschoolers. It's deceptive. It gives what I do a bad name.

3. She is taking statistics from homeschool studies and is randomly saying that "all this can be yours if you shirk off school." Never mind if mom and dad kick you out next week.

4. I know there is a four, it just hasn't found it's way to my fingers tips yet.