Monday, August 30, 2010

Might-As-Well-Laugh Monday

I don’t know why fast-food establishments are deemed as serving “fast-food.” Nothing could be further from the truth.

Take today, for instance.

First, I wait 30 minutes in the drive-thru line, while some hungry person in front of me orders enough burgers to feed Guatamala.

Then, before I utter a single syllable at the menu board, I hear, "Hi! Welcome to Burger World, where we make your burger from the freshest ingredients possible…any way you want it…while you wait…24 hours a day…seven days a week. My name is Edward. Would you care to try one of our Burger Bargain Boxes today?"


"OK. Just take your time and order when you're ready." (Oblivious to Edward, I was ready 30 minutes ago.)

"I'd like a burger and a lemonade, please."

"OK. Would you like french fries with that burger and lemonade?"


"OK. Would you like an order of crispy onion rings with that burger and lemonade?"


"How about one of our delicious hot apple pies?"


"Cherry pie?"



"No. Just the burger and lemonade, please."

"Well, our chocolate sundaes are on special today."

"The burger and lemonade, Edward."

"OK. One moment while I figure your total."

And while Edward figures my total, I doze and dream I’m standing before Congress, begging for fast-food legislation.

I argue that, since we limit how many bags a person takes on an airplane, how much weight an 18-wheeler hauls and how many Cokes a consumer can buy on sale, then surely we can limit how much food a person orders from a drive-thru window—and perhaps ban employee monologues as well.

The congressmen offer sympathetic smiles, but just as they open their mouths to speak, I hear, "That'll be $3.27. Please pay at the first window, pick up your burger at the second window and your lemonade will be waiting at the third window, around the corner, to your left."

Edward is back. The dream is over. I yawn and pull forward.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Being Wrong Can Be So Right

The day I learned DeAnna would be my office partner at our new location across town, I nearly had a stroke. Surely not. Who in their right mind would put the two of us together and expect either of us to survive? In a week, DeAnna would be bored to death by me or I’d be talked to death by her. It just wasn’t workable.

On the morning of the move, I got to work early, found my office and started setting up shop.

Around 8 o’clock, the barometer on the fourth floor peaked as DeAnna blew in like a monsoon wind. Long before I saw her, I heard her coming my direction.

Taking a deep breath, I braced for the storm.

In a few minutes, “the storm” arrived, but it wasn’t nearly as rough as I’d anticipated. With a gentle good morning, DeAnna asked if I’d like anything to drink. A cup of coffee, perhaps?

I returned her greeting, thanked her for the offer, but declined the coffee.

A cold Coke from downstairs, maybe?

I thanked her, but declined the Coke.

DeAnna nodded gracefully, put her belongings down and headed back out the door.

I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere between that first day of our togetherness and the next few weeks, I learned to adore DeAnna Wright—her energy; her humor; her incredible quick wit. By month’s end, I would’ve fought anyone who tried to part us.

DeAnna felt the same way.

Daily, we laughed hysterically at something one of us did or said. Just a glance (or a grunt) could send us both roaring. Even in the silences, DeAnna made work a good place to be.

My change in positions a few months later was bittersweet. I wanted to take DeAnna upstairs with me, but I couldn’t, of course. All I could do was hug her tightly and snap a photo for old times’ sake.

Today, the photo remains a treasured possession of mine. Every time I look at it, I’m reminded of just how wrong I can be and of just how much I might have missed.

WORDS TO LIVE BY: Never declare anything “unworkable” without, first, giving it a chance to work.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Simple Pleasures

My new  Southern Living, and a cup of  hazelnut coffee.

Linking to my sister's Simple Pleasures.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

The Gift of Lori

Recently, I was contacted by a woman named Lori. She wanted me to know that my music had touched her life more than 30 years ago. Needless to say, I was beyond humbled that a soul had been impacted by a seed I had sown. Little Me in the hands of Big Him. Overwhelming.

Lori passed away this week. She told me upfront that she was sick and wouldn't live much longer. We spoke on the phone a few days before she died.

I'm sad that we never got to meet in person, but so grateful that our paths crossed at all. The first time, I was a gift to Lori. The second time, she was a gift to me.

Dear God, thank you for those who come into our lives and leave us richer. May that be our goal with the dawn of every day.

Linking to Spiritual Sundays, a great place to be inspired.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Simple Pleasures - Talking With Her

Last night we talked about men, but the topic doesn't matter. Talking with her—heart-to-heart, mother-to-daughter, friend-to-friend—is a simple pleasure I never take for granted.

Occasionally, when she was a toddler, my brain would go into overload while she learned everything about everything, talking 90 miles a minute, asking why, what, who and how.

But these days, I cherish every moment of our conversations, grateful beyond words that God chose me to be her mom.

Linking to Dayle's (i.e., my wombmate's) Simple Pleasures.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

"U" Are Important

My typewriter is rather old, but it works qxite well—except for one key. Trxe, all the other keys fxnction fine, bxt as yox can see, when one key isn’t working properly, the final prodxct is greatly affected.

And so it is in God’s kingdom.

You might say, “Well, I am just one person. My contributions aren’t terribly important in the overall scheme of things. Besides, I don’t sing, I don’t preach, I don’t teach, and I am not the head of any department. I am just not as important as others to the cause of Christ.”

But that isn’t true, my friend. Just because you aren’t as visible as others, doesn’t mean you aren’t as important.

After all, God’s work isn’t limited to what happens when church is going on. The majority of God’s work is done when church is dismissed, when the lights go out, when no one but God is looking.

As demonstrated by the Good Samaritan, God’s work is fulfilled one-on-one, loving our neighbors as ourselves, doing little things that make big, big differences in the lives of those around us.

Little things like: hugging a hurting child, having lunch with a single mom or sending a card to a friend in crisis.

How much applause we get from men isn’t important—unless we’re working for an earthly reward, or course. It is how well we do our job that will matter in the end.

So the next time yox feel xnimportant in God’s great big family, jxst think aboxt my typewriter and say to yoxrself: I’m jxst as important as anyone else. And if I don’t fill my role properly, the finished prodxct will be greatly affected.

Linking to Spiritual Sundays. Click over and be inspired.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Simple Pleasures - Making Music

Whether beginning a day or ending a day, nothing pleases me more than making music.

This morning, I was ready for work ahead of schedule—a rare and wonderful thing. After whispering a short prayer, I sat down at my piano and played a moving rendition of "Amazing Grace."

How sweet the sound.

How simple the pleasure.

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."
Aldous Huxley

Linking to my twin sister's: "Simple Pleasures."

Lemon Custard Yellow

I've always wished I could wear the color yellow. It's so bright and cheerful and all things lovely. But, alas, I can't. If you can, I'm totally envious.

What I CAN do, however, is eat more than my share of Lemon Custard ice-cream at Baskin-Robbins. Oh, my. Beyond delicious.

It reminds me of when I was a little girl in Mississippi. An ice-cream truck drove through our neighborhood on a regular basis, and he had a lemon soft-serve onboard that he pumped into crisp cones for us. In a word: Divine.

If you don't have a Baskin-Robbins near you, go find one. It's worth the drive.

Joining Mrs. Matlock's Rainbow Summer School. See you there!

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Sweet Assurance

While checking my mail yesterday afternoon, a vehicle rushed past me and stopped at the curb. A heavyset man got out and said, "Is this 2306?" I said yes. He said he was looking for someone who once lived in my house.

With papers in hand, he approached me and showed me her name. I'd never heard of her. He asked if maybe I'd received mail for her in the past. I said no.

"Well, she's dead," he told me, "and nobody is claiming her at the morgue." I was moved and genuinely sorry that I couldn't assist in his search.

As I watched him drive away. it felt good knowing that someone will miss me when I'm gone. That someone will actually mourn my passing.

But more than that, it felt good knowing that my eternal home awaits. And even if I die all alone, without a friend to my name, my Father will rejoice at my coming.

"I go to prepare a place for you." - John 14:2

I'm linking to Tuesday's Unwrapped.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Questions to Ponder

A few months ago, I finally succumbed and allowed my daughter (grown and living with me) to get a puppy. It's been a rambunctious joy ride thus far. A little smelly at times, but Charlie Girl has brought much delight to Grandma's cottage.

I'm amazed at how tuned in she is to my daughter. She knows where Leslie is going before she even gets there.

If Leslie heads toward the kitchen table, Charlie dashes ahead and drapes herself across Leslie's chair. If Leslie heads toward the stairs, Charlie blazes the trail and parks on the step in front of her. She wants to be with her master as much as she possibly can.

Questions to Ponder:

Who is your master?

Do you spend hours surfing the internet, but can't find time for devotion?

Do you rush to check your e-mails, but rarely open your Bible?

Do you spend more time blogging than being still with your Maker?

Are you consumed with work, dawn til night?

Facebook? TV? Hobbies? Sports?

What is it that grips you and keeps you engaged every day?

Whatever it is, it's your master.
_ _ _ _ _

Linking to Spiritual Sundays, where it's still legal to talk about God.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Date Update

OK. So my date the other night was a good one. Mr. T and I had great conversation. Lots of laughs. A few serious moments. More in common than I figured. He's much older than I am, but he has a distinguished presence about him, and, hey, the older he is, the younger I look. Ha!

I don't know if there will be Date Two, but my second dates generally bring out the interrogator in me. (If you're interested in knowing more, I blogged about it here.) One question I left out on that list is: "Are you mainly interested in having sex with me?"

Asking that question is a waste of time. Most men (regardless of age, nationality or religion) have one main focus when it comes to women and dating: How soon is too soon to hit the sack? That sounds harsh, perhaps, but it's true. Trust me. I know. It's true.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not a saint—not by a long shot—but I do desire to be upright. I do desire a man who respects himself and respects me and sees a certain sacredness in intimate relations.

I don't know if such a man exists (and I highly doubt Mr. T is one), but I won't ever find out if I bolt the front door and never exit the premises. Yes, the weeding process leaves me less than thrilled, but it is what it is, and nothing worth having is ever easily obtained.
_ _ _ _ _

P. S. Mr. T just called. Said he hasn't forgot about me. We'll have Date Two soon. I hope he's ready. Wink.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Simple Pleasures - Candles

My cottage has candles in every corner. They set moods, and lift moods, and make magic all around.

The most delicious one is in my office. The container isn't that glorious, but what's inside will set you free. It's called "Frosted Sugar Cookie." Mmm. Mmm. MMM!

Whether I'm staring at a blank computer screen, battling the blogging blahs or writing faster than I can type, the subtle, sugary, baking-in-the-oven scent sends me to the seventh heaven every single time.
__ __ __ __

If you'd like to share what sends you skyward,
link to my twin sister's new blog party:

Blogging Blahs

I've had a bad case of the blogging blahs this week. Not much time to blog, and not much inspiration either.

I think being in limbo (regarding my job) is zapping my energy on every level.

ARRRGHHHH! Limbo is driving me NUTS-O!!


I believe the fog will be lifting soon. I just feel it in my bones.

If my bones turn out to be wrong, somebody shoot me at sunrise.