I know. I am posting on 11/12/11. Really, I don't get hyped up on dates because they are arbitrary. Dates, calendars, gemstones, the zodiac, all those things are just ways of measuring time or making categories based on time. It's always been interesting to me that from the Roman calendar to the sundial to the measuring of years Anno Domino (the year of our Lord) every way measurements are made bases the system on Jehovah's creation or the ransom sacrifice of his only-begotten son.
You know how the KJV says Adam begat Cain and Able and Abraham begat Isaac and Ishmael, etc? It's interesting to me because I think the women did most of the getting and the gatting, but anyhow, when we say Jesus is Jehovah's only begotten son, we are saying that back when in the past tense, Jehovah begat Jesus. I may have said that in this blog in the past. If so, forgive me. I'm not really senile yet that I know about (would I know about it if true? Alzheimer's patients seem pretty happy and oblivious) but I have certain linguistic ideas that are "staples" of how I think about the world. So I may be repeating myself just because I like my topic.
Anyhow, I would have blogged yesterday just because I like writing and just because I would have found something to say. Unfortunately, I got the news yesterday morning via email that the man's father passed away in Oklahoma at 5:05 p.m. on 11/10. When I say "the man," I always mean the man I married and with whom I share two lovely daughters. I had to tell that man, the father of my children, that his father had died.
Last night, I did not blog because I was listening to him talk about his family. In some very real ways, we are his only family now other than a mom and brother 1600 miles away, people he had not spoken to in about a year prior to yesterday.
My father-in-law was a cool guy. I say that because I never divorced him. I always liked him. He was from Poland and he had those Slavic features I kind of like in a guy. He served three tours in Vietnam and I'm against war, but his stories were interesting. I gave him a copy of the book "The Things They Carried" when I read it for a class and he was not much of a reader (newspapers, CNN kind of guy) but he read that and told me he couldn't put it down. Funny how we always got along better than he did with his sons.
He lost a daughter almost exactly my age when she was 13. He never talked about that much except to say the military doctors were idiots who let her go misdiagnosed. They were treating her for a back ache when she had kidney failure. From what I have heard from them of her symptoms, I think she had a severe sleep apnea, so you can understand how panicked I was when Kimberly had the same issues at age five. I went to doctors till I found one who had a diagnosis.
We did go our separate ways. Their other daughter had the first granddaughter six months before Carly was born. And they showered her with love and gifts and attention. My kids really got the shaft for grandparents on both sides. It's kind of ironic because I was reading in Dear Abby this week, a day or two before he died, about a woman who always went to her mother with her children and now that her son's wife goes to her mother, she feels left out of her grand children's life and she wants a time machine. That is pretty typical in society. There's a reason for that saying: "A man is a man until he takes a wife. A daughter is a daughter for life." I do not say that smugly as the mom of two girls. But I am happy about it.
Not that I'm getting grandchildren anytime soon, and that's okay too.
I guess the man is upset. It was his father. The man is now 51 and a half years old and is stubbornly refusing to realize he can't do everything he used to do. I don't like this realization either, but putting your head in the sand like an ostrich accomplishes nothing even for an ostrich. It doesn't change anything.
My father-in-law was 79 and went through a bout of cancer related to Agent Orange about five years ago. This year, it came back. No funeral, no burial. He was a very practical man who donated his body to the OU (Oklahoma University) medical center. He was down to 85 pounds. When they are finished, the school will cremate his body and send the ashes to his widow. Still, nobody can say he got cheated out of a long lifespan. Well, nobody but us. All of us are sinners thanks to our original parents and cheated out of the lifespan our Heavenly Father desired for us.
And I know a peace that the man cannot have because he will never listen to anything from the Bible, but today I know that someone will be welcoming Mitchell Randall back to life someday and it just might be me. This makes me entirely happy not over his death this week, but his prospect for resurrection in the future. Man can cremate. Jehovah can create. That one little letter in the word cremate can be so easily dropped by Jehovah.
That is why I did not blog last night. I was listening while holding the hand of the father of my children.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Dossier
Well, I went to see what all these committees have had to say about me and I finally got to read the entire file.
Mostly, it is lame. They say in one instance that I don't let all my students talk about their interpretation and that I cut them off. Then a few paragraphs later they say my classes don't have a beginning, middle and end. Sometimes I do have to steer a class discussion in another direction specifically for the reason that I have a middle and an end and I have to get there.
I don't think they know I've been on the theocratic ministry school since 1972 and that I have a clear idea of having an effective conclusion.
Anyhow, the best part is that there is a memo I should have gotten in 2010 and I never received it. How they can expect me to do something when I didn't get the memo is pretty short sighted.
I do have an external evaluator. It's kind of interesting to me that all my recommendations from Arkansas, and all my students like the job I do. It's just this committee I can't get along with. Anyhow, the external evaluator is a professor at another university that I have never met. She read my files and my published work and she gave her evaluation of my work too. And she liked me. I guess it will seem like bragging to only post her parts, but legally I can't post the other things (about 40 pages) so you can see how these few paragraphs gave me some faith in myself. She wrote this:
Mostly, it is lame. They say in one instance that I don't let all my students talk about their interpretation and that I cut them off. Then a few paragraphs later they say my classes don't have a beginning, middle and end. Sometimes I do have to steer a class discussion in another direction specifically for the reason that I have a middle and an end and I have to get there.
I don't think they know I've been on the theocratic ministry school since 1972 and that I have a clear idea of having an effective conclusion.
Anyhow, the best part is that there is a memo I should have gotten in 2010 and I never received it. How they can expect me to do something when I didn't get the memo is pretty short sighted.
I do have an external evaluator. It's kind of interesting to me that all my recommendations from Arkansas, and all my students like the job I do. It's just this committee I can't get along with. Anyhow, the external evaluator is a professor at another university that I have never met. She read my files and my published work and she gave her evaluation of my work too. And she liked me. I guess it will seem like bragging to only post her parts, but legally I can't post the other things (about 40 pages) so you can see how these few paragraphs gave me some faith in myself. She wrote this:
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Heal, Heel, Hill
Technically, hill has a little different pronunciation than heel or heal. It's kind of like, tin and ten do not sound the same either if you do it right.
Yes, I think about words all the time. The dogs are healing well. They are able to go up and down the stairs if we don't watch them, but are trying to carry them mostly. Zora was slower getting back on her feet than Arwen. She takes everything harder like that. Funny, because Arwen is so prissy and Zora is the only one of them that howls, although Myra, Abel's daughter's Chihuahua who is a sibling but not a litter mate for our dogs, also howls.
Which is a slant rhyme for heel. Howl. That's how it works in poetry. You got words that are cockeyed to each other and it's called a slant rhyme, like heel and howl, or noodle and needle.
So someone is going to feel like a heel tomorrow because I finally can go read the dossier that has the reports that have been filed about my performance and find out exactly what these people are work with are about. I don't really have much sense, and after I'll be at the meeting, but I might not have my brain straight (as if I ever do).
And, life is all uphill. We had our CA last week so we are having the oral review tomorrow. I went with Fay to Pittsburgh and she left her book bag in my car so I think I'll slip over to East Hills and visit and return her bag. Then Sunday we go to the second day of the CA because we are old and like to break it up. Two days back to back kills me with school. And guess what? I love worldly people for somethings! Hooray but Thanksgiving is coming. I just want those three days off. And most of the students ditch you on Monday and Tuesday of that week, so in practical terms, it's a week off.
I'm ready. Tomorrow is a long day. I probably need my beauty rest, and I know I need some mental rest, so goodnight.
Yes, I think about words all the time. The dogs are healing well. They are able to go up and down the stairs if we don't watch them, but are trying to carry them mostly. Zora was slower getting back on her feet than Arwen. She takes everything harder like that. Funny, because Arwen is so prissy and Zora is the only one of them that howls, although Myra, Abel's daughter's Chihuahua who is a sibling but not a litter mate for our dogs, also howls.
Which is a slant rhyme for heel. Howl. That's how it works in poetry. You got words that are cockeyed to each other and it's called a slant rhyme, like heel and howl, or noodle and needle.
So someone is going to feel like a heel tomorrow because I finally can go read the dossier that has the reports that have been filed about my performance and find out exactly what these people are work with are about. I don't really have much sense, and after I'll be at the meeting, but I might not have my brain straight (as if I ever do).
And, life is all uphill. We had our CA last week so we are having the oral review tomorrow. I went with Fay to Pittsburgh and she left her book bag in my car so I think I'll slip over to East Hills and visit and return her bag. Then Sunday we go to the second day of the CA because we are old and like to break it up. Two days back to back kills me with school. And guess what? I love worldly people for somethings! Hooray but Thanksgiving is coming. I just want those three days off. And most of the students ditch you on Monday and Tuesday of that week, so in practical terms, it's a week off.
I'm ready. Tomorrow is a long day. I probably need my beauty rest, and I know I need some mental rest, so goodnight.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Pay as you Spay
Well, I am never going to be a Chihuahua grandmother, at least not from Arwen or Zora. We took them to the vet this morning at 7:45 and checked them in. They whined. They gave us looks simultaneously dirty and bewildered over the shoulders of the assistants taking them through the doors beyond which unauthorized personnel is not allowed.
They are home and resting. They are glad to be back. I love them. How did Jehovah put that in me, to become so attached, not to my dog, but my daughters' dogs? And of course I worry how we will get the dogs through Armageddon. Like worrying about the daughters is not enough.
As I passed the economic department today at school, which has just relocated to Biddle Hall, they had the TV monitor playing the news with the stock strip running across the bottom and there was some headline about bullion bust. So the gold market is doing something and last week it was the Greek government and Kim watched some 20/20 episode lately about in 2000 there were 11 billionaires in the USA and now there are over 400. No wonder the general populace is marching on Wall Street and trying to figure out who to vote for.
I get so tired of myself sometimes that I don't know how you stand reading any of this. All I could think of today was that the end of this system is coming, and here I am worrying about a job next year. It would be nice in a way if it comes before then and I don't have to worry about it. I think sometimes about taking a job abroad (better pay) to send Carly the money to live on while she finishes nursing school, but if the great tribulation came and I could not travel back to her, is there any worse thing I could suffer than being away from her in such trials?
Lately I've been thinking about Jehovah's name because the circuit assembly theme is "Sanctify Jehovah's Holy Name." How his name means he can cause to become whatever is needed to fulfill his purpose. Last year, my lovely sister Jennifer was stressed out. Economic hard times hit Arkansas and Jamie's profession hard. He is a house builder. He is going to school to be a respiratory therapist. In the meantime, Jennifer was a medical transcriptionist juggling too much work and responsibility. So Sister Scully sends an email about her employer looking for house inspectors in Arkansas and do I know anyone who would be interested and qualified?
I guess if you can build a house, you can inspect one. Jamie is doing great and so is Jennifer and their two children. And no one saw that coming, that way out to bless them. So I am heartened that even though I don't know what to think of my job, that Jehovah will not leave me in the lurch.
As I spoke to Fay on the way to the assembly hall Saturday, she offered for Carly to live with her while I am gone if it comes to that. Today, Carly got a card in the mail from Fay. Sometimes I want to hurl rotten tomatoes clear from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma and say, "Mother, how can you not care about my babies?" And I still don't know the answer to that one, but I do know that I have my sister Fay here who does care.
Now, I'm going back downstairs to sit beside one of my doggies and read for class. I don't know when the tribulation is coming, but I am sure we all have the same father and same last name.
They are home and resting. They are glad to be back. I love them. How did Jehovah put that in me, to become so attached, not to my dog, but my daughters' dogs? And of course I worry how we will get the dogs through Armageddon. Like worrying about the daughters is not enough.
As I passed the economic department today at school, which has just relocated to Biddle Hall, they had the TV monitor playing the news with the stock strip running across the bottom and there was some headline about bullion bust. So the gold market is doing something and last week it was the Greek government and Kim watched some 20/20 episode lately about in 2000 there were 11 billionaires in the USA and now there are over 400. No wonder the general populace is marching on Wall Street and trying to figure out who to vote for.
I get so tired of myself sometimes that I don't know how you stand reading any of this. All I could think of today was that the end of this system is coming, and here I am worrying about a job next year. It would be nice in a way if it comes before then and I don't have to worry about it. I think sometimes about taking a job abroad (better pay) to send Carly the money to live on while she finishes nursing school, but if the great tribulation came and I could not travel back to her, is there any worse thing I could suffer than being away from her in such trials?
Lately I've been thinking about Jehovah's name because the circuit assembly theme is "Sanctify Jehovah's Holy Name." How his name means he can cause to become whatever is needed to fulfill his purpose. Last year, my lovely sister Jennifer was stressed out. Economic hard times hit Arkansas and Jamie's profession hard. He is a house builder. He is going to school to be a respiratory therapist. In the meantime, Jennifer was a medical transcriptionist juggling too much work and responsibility. So Sister Scully sends an email about her employer looking for house inspectors in Arkansas and do I know anyone who would be interested and qualified?
I guess if you can build a house, you can inspect one. Jamie is doing great and so is Jennifer and their two children. And no one saw that coming, that way out to bless them. So I am heartened that even though I don't know what to think of my job, that Jehovah will not leave me in the lurch.
As I spoke to Fay on the way to the assembly hall Saturday, she offered for Carly to live with her while I am gone if it comes to that. Today, Carly got a card in the mail from Fay. Sometimes I want to hurl rotten tomatoes clear from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma and say, "Mother, how can you not care about my babies?" And I still don't know the answer to that one, but I do know that I have my sister Fay here who does care.
Now, I'm going back downstairs to sit beside one of my doggies and read for class. I don't know when the tribulation is coming, but I am sure we all have the same father and same last name.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sanctify God's Name
Well I am waiting for the dryer to finish off a batch of clothes. I went downstairs and graded (there is daylight at the end of the paper assignment 2 tunnel) and came upstairs to find dampness, so while I wait, here I am.
Here is my favorite little pearl I picked up at the circuit assembly on Saturday. We have a new circuit overseer that I have not met yet (he comes to Windber the first week of December) but I saw him before the session started and I thought who is that tall fella in a green tie? Of course it was him. Gotta say that tie worked for me! Anyhow, on the part about sanctifying Jehovah's name, he said, "We all have the same father and the same last name."
So when we go out in service, people see us, they don't say there goes Mark Harrison (that's our new CO's name). They say there goes one of Jehovah's Witnesses. We all have the same father, Jehovah, and we all have the same last name, Witnesses.
Ain't that cute?
So anyhow, Fay told me a joke on the way over there. I have to share. It goes like this:
A brother had a talking parrot for many years and when he finished his life's course, his family came along and resold the bird at the pet shop. So a guy buys the bird, takes it home, and the next morning is Sunday. The bird is waking him up and it's saying: "It's Sunday. Time to get up and go to the Kingdom Hall. Get up sleepy head." And the bird will not shut up and let him sleep in so he finally moves the bird to the living room.
The next day when he gets up and is leaving for work, the bird says: "Time for the daily text," over and over till the guy finally goes early just to get away from the squawk box. When he comes home, the bird starts in again saying: "Read the Bible daily," over and over.
The bird is really gorgeous and he wanted a talking bird, but this one has such a limited vocabulary. So he sits there arguing with it and finally saying a few expletives and the bird says "the tongue is a fire James chapter three" over and over till the man blows his cool and grabs the bird and slings it against the wall! Feeling contrite, ashamed, and scared, the man runs over to where the bird lies on the floor, shaking its feathers a little and coming back around but he also has a damaged wing. The bird looks at the man and in a panicky squawk starts saying: No Blood! No Blood!
Which reminds me that Carly is carpooling to Derry for clinical class this month and she and another girl stopped at Petco in Latrobe. Well, all the Halloween costumes for dogs were on clearance and the other girl has a Yorkie and was grabbing all the little outfits. Then she asked Carly if she wanted some because she knows Carly has a Chihuahua. And Carly said, "You can have them. My dog is a Jehovah's Witness so she won't be wearing pumpkin sweaters."
Good night my sisters. We all have the same Father and the same last name.
Here is my favorite little pearl I picked up at the circuit assembly on Saturday. We have a new circuit overseer that I have not met yet (he comes to Windber the first week of December) but I saw him before the session started and I thought who is that tall fella in a green tie? Of course it was him. Gotta say that tie worked for me! Anyhow, on the part about sanctifying Jehovah's name, he said, "We all have the same father and the same last name."
So when we go out in service, people see us, they don't say there goes Mark Harrison (that's our new CO's name). They say there goes one of Jehovah's Witnesses. We all have the same father, Jehovah, and we all have the same last name, Witnesses.
Ain't that cute?
So anyhow, Fay told me a joke on the way over there. I have to share. It goes like this:
A brother had a talking parrot for many years and when he finished his life's course, his family came along and resold the bird at the pet shop. So a guy buys the bird, takes it home, and the next morning is Sunday. The bird is waking him up and it's saying: "It's Sunday. Time to get up and go to the Kingdom Hall. Get up sleepy head." And the bird will not shut up and let him sleep in so he finally moves the bird to the living room.
The next day when he gets up and is leaving for work, the bird says: "Time for the daily text," over and over till the guy finally goes early just to get away from the squawk box. When he comes home, the bird starts in again saying: "Read the Bible daily," over and over.
The bird is really gorgeous and he wanted a talking bird, but this one has such a limited vocabulary. So he sits there arguing with it and finally saying a few expletives and the bird says "the tongue is a fire James chapter three" over and over till the man blows his cool and grabs the bird and slings it against the wall! Feeling contrite, ashamed, and scared, the man runs over to where the bird lies on the floor, shaking its feathers a little and coming back around but he also has a damaged wing. The bird looks at the man and in a panicky squawk starts saying: No Blood! No Blood!
Which reminds me that Carly is carpooling to Derry for clinical class this month and she and another girl stopped at Petco in Latrobe. Well, all the Halloween costumes for dogs were on clearance and the other girl has a Yorkie and was grabbing all the little outfits. Then she asked Carly if she wanted some because she knows Carly has a Chihuahua. And Carly said, "You can have them. My dog is a Jehovah's Witness so she won't be wearing pumpkin sweaters."
Good night my sisters. We all have the same Father and the same last name.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Circuit Assembly tomorrow!
Got to get up at the crack of dawn, so no blogging. But I'm pretty happy. See you late Sunday.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
worldly people stink
I'm worn out. I had all my nerves ready to go but the thing is, I asked to read my dossier from humanities. I had to request it with a signed document which I sent in 9/20. I still have not received that document. My panel did not want to meet with me till I read it. So my meeting was postponed. I was all dressed up, no place to go, but happily the chair of my panel was upset with the people who were supposed to take care of this six weeks ago and he let them know it.
A little poetic justice.
That's all I know today. My brain is scrambled eggs. Goodnight.
A little poetic justice.
That's all I know today. My brain is scrambled eggs. Goodnight.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Obadiah or Hosea
One of those 12 guys has that passage where he says over and over, "How long must I wait, oh Jehovah, how long to see justice done."
I am not enslaved to Babylon, but sometimes I feel enslaved to American culture, to education, and of course we are all enslaved to sin.
For the past 2.5 years I've been through crazy stupid stuff at work over the non-renewal of my contract. Tomorrow I meet with the appeals panel at 2:00 to present my case to people who are not personally biased or involved. If there is any justice in the world, it will turn out okay. But I am not confident that there is any outside of Paterson NY or a Kingdom Hall.
At any rate, I promised to be back in the saddle, but I spent all evening rereading all my relevant files and I feel sick at my stomach and I'm going to bed. I mean, I feel worse than going to have a scheduled C-section or a scheduled eye surgery. I feel all shook up. I bet my blood pressure is up. I'll be glad when this is all over no matter how it turns out.
No meeting tomorrow night because we have our Circuit Assembly this weekend. I am likely to need two days of brotherhood no matter what.
Goodnight for now.
I am not enslaved to Babylon, but sometimes I feel enslaved to American culture, to education, and of course we are all enslaved to sin.
For the past 2.5 years I've been through crazy stupid stuff at work over the non-renewal of my contract. Tomorrow I meet with the appeals panel at 2:00 to present my case to people who are not personally biased or involved. If there is any justice in the world, it will turn out okay. But I am not confident that there is any outside of Paterson NY or a Kingdom Hall.
At any rate, I promised to be back in the saddle, but I spent all evening rereading all my relevant files and I feel sick at my stomach and I'm going to bed. I mean, I feel worse than going to have a scheduled C-section or a scheduled eye surgery. I feel all shook up. I bet my blood pressure is up. I'll be glad when this is all over no matter how it turns out.
No meeting tomorrow night because we have our Circuit Assembly this weekend. I am likely to need two days of brotherhood no matter what.
Goodnight for now.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Shoe Swans
Today, determined to eat, I went to Shoe Swans, which is the English spelling of a particular style of Chinese cooking that is spelled Szechuan but sounds like shoes swans when we say it. I don't know what it sounds like when a Pennsylvanian says it. I can't remember if any of them have said it in front of me. UNESCO, which is some acronym for united nations education science and cultural organization, anyhow, they named the city Ugendo in SW China the 2011 city of Gastronomy because it is such a good place to eat. I knew that! Mainly we go to Main Moon or Hong Kong as a congregation. Now that they can say normally, although I still get a kick out of the words length and strength. Even when Abel would say it sometimes I would think you can't seriously think about eternity listening to that.
Well, so my new sister Laura wrote me that I need not feel bummed out that it looked like I was chasing Abel to Wendy's last Thursday and talk to them if I can't get past it. I actually think I'm past it, but I'm so glad someone understands that I got over this man and his strength of accent. Here's something that would have made me mad if I was invested in the topic, but as it is, it just made me tired. I mean, you know how that works, right? I used to fight all the time with my husband, knock down drag outs, and then we stopped fighting like that. He would try to pick a fight and I would not rise to the bait. I didn't want to fight anymore. It wasn't worth it. I was tired of all the drama. And that is when it was over for us. I was no longer invested enough to fight for a relationship to work.
The same thing happened with my mother. I told my students today, when we were talking about how everyone has different shoes to fill, hats to wear, roles to deliver, that when I am with my mother I am 12 years old again. I haven't seen her since I was 46, but I was 12 that day. And it is so sad. She started a fight with us, she even pushed Kim at the top of the stairs to her den (only four steps, but brick!) and we just calmly packed up and pulled out. She is never ever going to see that I am an adult or have a lick of sense, and she is always going to believe she has the only right viewpoint, and I give up trying to make her think anything else. One of my students gave me a sticker that says something like there comes a time when you realize you may love someone with all your heart, but they cannot be part of your life. Well, that's my mother.
And that's how it is with Abel now. I get enough of something and I pull out and I'm done. So they don't need to tiptoe around me in fear I'm going to start hanging on their every word anymore and think someone over at their place hung the moon. Besides, I am moving either this summer or the next, so it's all moot.
Anyhow, when we were at Bethel, the view at Paterson out the big glass doors facing the gardens, well, they have this waterfall, four slabs with the water tumbling so smooth, so pretty it nearly put my eyes out. Our guide said that they had a Bethelite get married and take all the pictures there. They did the vows at the hall, but the pictures were all taken there, and I tell you, that would be the most wonderful backdrop for wedding pictures on this planet.
So the brother from our congregation who was leading my group looks at me and says, "there you go. You could take your wedding pictures here."
To which I promptly snorted and said, "not happening."
He said, "oh it could happen."
How many Watchtowers have commented on singleness for our sisters and brothers and respecting their wishes? I wasn't really mad because my wish two years ago was for a husband. But now, I wish just as hard that nobody bothers me because I got things to do and I do not want any responsibilities but these girls, and I look forward to light at the end of this tunnel of love
So I brought home Chinese food to my two little dependent baby girls, and on the way I went to Wal-Mart and got 50% off candy. Kind of our tradition, haha. This sister in Arkansas named Pat who had about seven kids and is somehow married to a nephew of my little Ruth, something like that (because just like this place, everyone back there is related to either the Copelands, the Oxfords, the Billingsleys, or the Walters. Here, the names are strange but they are all intertwined on some serious family tree branches) anyhow, once Pat's youngest son, Ty, was going through this Spiderman phase, and he would hold out his hand flat and make this sound. Pat explained that it was the sound of his web spinning out of his hand.
So on this day about eight years ago I went into Walmart and there were Spiderman gloves leftover from the most pagan of the pagan celebrations, and I got a pair for Ty but I wasn't sure Pat would approve. When I asked her (being smart despite my mother's opinion, haha, take that Mom! because I was smart enough to check with Pat before letting Ty know about the gloves) if he could have them, she said: "Of course. After the sacrifice, it's just meat."
We have a lot of candy tonight and I have just eaten four little dark Hershey bars as I sat here writing you. I let each one melt down slowly, savoring it, and then proceeded to the next one. I made a deal that I could write till the chocolate wore out, and then I had to grade the rest of a stack of papers. I wish now I had brought five or six little bars. I am making myself eat dark chocolate because no one else likes it and it is supposed to be healthier. Some kind of antioxidant. By the 4th one, they were tasting pretty good. I might not go back to milk chocolate. Yeah, I got mostly Reese's because I don't like peanut butter.
So now my chow-meined dark chocolate bellied self must bid you adieu and try to explain for maybe the 826th time why you cannot pass on a paper with no thesis statement, but you can blog like mad without one.
Well, so my new sister Laura wrote me that I need not feel bummed out that it looked like I was chasing Abel to Wendy's last Thursday and talk to them if I can't get past it. I actually think I'm past it, but I'm so glad someone understands that I got over this man and his strength of accent. Here's something that would have made me mad if I was invested in the topic, but as it is, it just made me tired. I mean, you know how that works, right? I used to fight all the time with my husband, knock down drag outs, and then we stopped fighting like that. He would try to pick a fight and I would not rise to the bait. I didn't want to fight anymore. It wasn't worth it. I was tired of all the drama. And that is when it was over for us. I was no longer invested enough to fight for a relationship to work.
The same thing happened with my mother. I told my students today, when we were talking about how everyone has different shoes to fill, hats to wear, roles to deliver, that when I am with my mother I am 12 years old again. I haven't seen her since I was 46, but I was 12 that day. And it is so sad. She started a fight with us, she even pushed Kim at the top of the stairs to her den (only four steps, but brick!) and we just calmly packed up and pulled out. She is never ever going to see that I am an adult or have a lick of sense, and she is always going to believe she has the only right viewpoint, and I give up trying to make her think anything else. One of my students gave me a sticker that says something like there comes a time when you realize you may love someone with all your heart, but they cannot be part of your life. Well, that's my mother.
And that's how it is with Abel now. I get enough of something and I pull out and I'm done. So they don't need to tiptoe around me in fear I'm going to start hanging on their every word anymore and think someone over at their place hung the moon. Besides, I am moving either this summer or the next, so it's all moot.
Anyhow, when we were at Bethel, the view at Paterson out the big glass doors facing the gardens, well, they have this waterfall, four slabs with the water tumbling so smooth, so pretty it nearly put my eyes out. Our guide said that they had a Bethelite get married and take all the pictures there. They did the vows at the hall, but the pictures were all taken there, and I tell you, that would be the most wonderful backdrop for wedding pictures on this planet.
So the brother from our congregation who was leading my group looks at me and says, "there you go. You could take your wedding pictures here."
To which I promptly snorted and said, "not happening."
He said, "oh it could happen."
How many Watchtowers have commented on singleness for our sisters and brothers and respecting their wishes? I wasn't really mad because my wish two years ago was for a husband. But now, I wish just as hard that nobody bothers me because I got things to do and I do not want any responsibilities but these girls, and I look forward to light at the end of this tunnel of love
So I brought home Chinese food to my two little dependent baby girls, and on the way I went to Wal-Mart and got 50% off candy. Kind of our tradition, haha. This sister in Arkansas named Pat who had about seven kids and is somehow married to a nephew of my little Ruth, something like that (because just like this place, everyone back there is related to either the Copelands, the Oxfords, the Billingsleys, or the Walters. Here, the names are strange but they are all intertwined on some serious family tree branches) anyhow, once Pat's youngest son, Ty, was going through this Spiderman phase, and he would hold out his hand flat and make this sound. Pat explained that it was the sound of his web spinning out of his hand.
So on this day about eight years ago I went into Walmart and there were Spiderman gloves leftover from the most pagan of the pagan celebrations, and I got a pair for Ty but I wasn't sure Pat would approve. When I asked her (being smart despite my mother's opinion, haha, take that Mom! because I was smart enough to check with Pat before letting Ty know about the gloves) if he could have them, she said: "Of course. After the sacrifice, it's just meat."
We have a lot of candy tonight and I have just eaten four little dark Hershey bars as I sat here writing you. I let each one melt down slowly, savoring it, and then proceeded to the next one. I made a deal that I could write till the chocolate wore out, and then I had to grade the rest of a stack of papers. I wish now I had brought five or six little bars. I am making myself eat dark chocolate because no one else likes it and it is supposed to be healthier. Some kind of antioxidant. By the 4th one, they were tasting pretty good. I might not go back to milk chocolate. Yeah, I got mostly Reese's because I don't like peanut butter.
So now my chow-meined dark chocolate bellied self must bid you adieu and try to explain for maybe the 826th time why you cannot pass on a paper with no thesis statement, but you can blog like mad without one.
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