I know that you, my avid reader fans, have been chomping at the bit to get an update on my everyday life. It's been riveting action and crazy melodrama all around. There is never a dull moment in the Franks family daily life.
The ongoing saga of my vehicle never seems to end. Earlier this summer, I had to have the battery replaced. Two weeks ago, I was trying to leave work, but the engine failed to crank. I had to have it towed to the shop that was actually able to get my "new" engine working properly. I will never return to the place that installed the engine. Total incompetence. After test and such, the fuel pump was bad and had to be replaced. I picked it up, payed out more money, and drove it for almost 2 weeks. This past Monday, I filled up with gas. When I tried to leave the station, it wouldn't crank again!!! I tried several times to no avail. I had to have it towed again!! I am glad that the tow-truck driver wasn't as chatty as the last one. I was in no mood to hear lips flapping. As things turned out, it seems to have been just a relay and I didn't have to fork over any more Georges. For the rest of the week, everything has been fine with it. Stay tuned...
Rolly and Molly, Daisy and Duke, and the rest of the gang have returned. During their absence, they seem to have learned a thing or two. They don't arrive when Dad is here because his "Goose Dance" actually does a number on them. They arrive during the middle of the day when he isn't here. Mom has moved on from chasing them with the broom and banging tin pans out the door. Her means of getting rid of them? Driving the car across the pasture while blowing the horn. Of course, the geese look at her like she's crazy and I am sure that the neighbors are craning their necks and giggling behind their hands at the action. So far, she has been successful with her actions. Stay tuned to see what will happen next. I am sure it will be interesting come bird-feeding time.
I have been preparing for winter during this last half of summer. So far I have put up strawberry jam, cherry jam, blackberry jam, apple butter, and pear preserves. This Monday, I plan on making chow-chow and apple-thyme jelly. I will also make Concord grape jelly (if I can find Concord grapes!), orange marmalade, and banana jam. All of these goodies will be entered into the fair in October.
That's about it for now. Besides work, not much else is going on. Rain finally fell yesterday and last night. That was certainly a blessing.
Have a blessed day!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Selfishly Unselfish
At first glance, today's title seems to be an oxymoron. But I believe that my parents exhibit that attribute every waking moment. Today's blog is a tribute to them. I am 100% sure that I would not be the person I am today without their guidance and influence while growing up.
One of the most outstanding characteristics that they both share (and they have many!) is that they are very unselfish people. They would give away their last crumb of bread if someone else needed it worse than they did. Mom has always short-changed herself in food, clothes, and other activities to make sure her family was well-fed, clothed, and happy. Their well being was more important to her. Not many of today's mothers can make that claim. Dad never says "no" to anyone. Anytime anyone needs help, Dad is there to lend a hand no matter how much of an inconvenience it is to him.
My parents also argue all the time. But it's not the normal "spat" between married couples. No, not at all. The topic of their disagreements? Who will do for the other before the other can do it for him/herself. Yes, you read correctly. They disagree on who will take care of the other's needs faster. One example happened last night. Mom accidentally spilled some water on the chair. Before she could return with a dry cloth, Dad had pushed his supper aside and was already cleaning up the spill. He took the towel from her hands and proceeded to finish the job. Their "spat" went something like this:
Mom: "Why are you doing that? I can do it myself. Finish your supper."
Dad: "You would break your neck to get over here if I had spilled something. Sit your tail down and I will handle the cleanup."
Mom: "But you need to finish eating."
Dad: "I will finish wiping up the water first!"
That was the extent of their spat. They have "argued" like that for as long as I can remember. Wouldn't it be a better world if parents took lessons from my parents? I think children would grow up feeling loved and a lot more secure. I know I did.
Don't get me wrong. My parents aren't perfect. But they have always shown me that demonstrative love that went both ways and that love was instrumental in making me who I am. In short, the world needs more selfishly unselfish people.
Have a blessed day!
One of the most outstanding characteristics that they both share (and they have many!) is that they are very unselfish people. They would give away their last crumb of bread if someone else needed it worse than they did. Mom has always short-changed herself in food, clothes, and other activities to make sure her family was well-fed, clothed, and happy. Their well being was more important to her. Not many of today's mothers can make that claim. Dad never says "no" to anyone. Anytime anyone needs help, Dad is there to lend a hand no matter how much of an inconvenience it is to him.
My parents also argue all the time. But it's not the normal "spat" between married couples. No, not at all. The topic of their disagreements? Who will do for the other before the other can do it for him/herself. Yes, you read correctly. They disagree on who will take care of the other's needs faster. One example happened last night. Mom accidentally spilled some water on the chair. Before she could return with a dry cloth, Dad had pushed his supper aside and was already cleaning up the spill. He took the towel from her hands and proceeded to finish the job. Their "spat" went something like this:
Mom: "Why are you doing that? I can do it myself. Finish your supper."
Dad: "You would break your neck to get over here if I had spilled something. Sit your tail down and I will handle the cleanup."
Mom: "But you need to finish eating."
Dad: "I will finish wiping up the water first!"
That was the extent of their spat. They have "argued" like that for as long as I can remember. Wouldn't it be a better world if parents took lessons from my parents? I think children would grow up feeling loved and a lot more secure. I know I did.
Don't get me wrong. My parents aren't perfect. But they have always shown me that demonstrative love that went both ways and that love was instrumental in making me who I am. In short, the world needs more selfishly unselfish people.
Have a blessed day!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Remember What??
There are several times in my life when I think I am the only one that can remember anything. I do understand that life is very busy nowadays for many people and several things can inhibit one's ability to remember, but people that consistently can't remember the past five minutes of their lives need a large dose of Gingko biloba!
Several times a day, I am called upon to access my memory banks for one thing or another whether it was 10 minutes ago or two months ago. Most of the time I can recall even some of the details surrounding the event in question. But when the shoe is on the other foot, they can't even tell me if the customer that just called wants me to order or just check part availability without squinting their eyes and crinkling their noses in extreme concentration. And one can forget anything past the 10 minute mark. No amount of concentration will bring it back. When I roll my eyes or make a comment, I am "given down country" because they "can't remember everything." Funny to me how I am never to forget anything and am expected to remember happenings from months ago while they barely remember how to fill out a PO properly.
In my opinion, some of the forgetfulness that people experience on a daily basis is because they either aren't paying attention to the task at hand or they just don't care. Perhaps if half the attention that should be applied is given to the present job, remembering would come a whole lot easier.
What is the topic of this blog? ;-)
Have a blessed day!
Several times a day, I am called upon to access my memory banks for one thing or another whether it was 10 minutes ago or two months ago. Most of the time I can recall even some of the details surrounding the event in question. But when the shoe is on the other foot, they can't even tell me if the customer that just called wants me to order or just check part availability without squinting their eyes and crinkling their noses in extreme concentration. And one can forget anything past the 10 minute mark. No amount of concentration will bring it back. When I roll my eyes or make a comment, I am "given down country" because they "can't remember everything." Funny to me how I am never to forget anything and am expected to remember happenings from months ago while they barely remember how to fill out a PO properly.
In my opinion, some of the forgetfulness that people experience on a daily basis is because they either aren't paying attention to the task at hand or they just don't care. Perhaps if half the attention that should be applied is given to the present job, remembering would come a whole lot easier.
What is the topic of this blog? ;-)
Have a blessed day!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Evasive Sneaking
Today was a sneaky day. Sometimes I am forced to sneak around like a lion after its prey or perform an evasive maneuver similar to a zebra being chased by said lion. People can be so nosy and questions abound some days.
Where did you go during lunch?
What did you eat?
Did you take a nap?
All of these and similar questions are frequently thrown my way. If I wanted people to know the minute details of my life, I would write a book with a ghost writer complete with pictures. In order to prevent their Pinocchio-like schnozes from poking into my business, I sometimes need to be evasive or take other drastic measures.
One of my favorite drinks is a Starbucks frappuccino. When I can't get a freshly-made one, the bottled ones are my go-to choice. (Isn't the new dark chocolate variety heavenly?) One day, I brought one to work and a co-worker noticed it. She came over and asked me if it was good. She received one of my patented that-was-a-dumb-question looks. She responded with a request for me to let her know when I opened it for my moment of escape because she wanted to try it. I thought to myself...hmmm.....no. When it was time to pop the seal, I did so very quietly and drank it without anyone else knowing what was happening. Nothing else was mentioned about it that day. Now every time I bring one into work, I carry it in such a way that it's hidden by my hand without being too obvious. When I enter the office, I make a controlled mad dash to my cubicle to hide the booty. Sneaky.
At least once a week, I get the what-did-you-eat-for-lunch question. I do understand that it's an innocent question with no malicious prying intended. But will it really make a difference in that person's life to find out what my gastronomic intake was for that day? (Now if it was something worth mentioning like a grilled-to-perfection filet mignon or a make-your-taste-buds-dance piece of cheesecake, I would readily spout of its praises.) This kind of question demands an answer like "food." After supplying the necessary answer, I deftly maneuver the conversation to another topic or gradually make my way back to the desk. Evasive.
In short, I guess I am a private person. If I want you to know something about me, I will tell you. Pepper me with questions, and I will sneakily evade your moves. I'm not steak au poivre.
Any questions? :-)
Have a blessed day!
Where did you go during lunch?
What did you eat?
Did you take a nap?
All of these and similar questions are frequently thrown my way. If I wanted people to know the minute details of my life, I would write a book with a ghost writer complete with pictures. In order to prevent their Pinocchio-like schnozes from poking into my business, I sometimes need to be evasive or take other drastic measures.
One of my favorite drinks is a Starbucks frappuccino. When I can't get a freshly-made one, the bottled ones are my go-to choice. (Isn't the new dark chocolate variety heavenly?) One day, I brought one to work and a co-worker noticed it. She came over and asked me if it was good. She received one of my patented that-was-a-dumb-question looks. She responded with a request for me to let her know when I opened it for my moment of escape because she wanted to try it. I thought to myself...hmmm.....no. When it was time to pop the seal, I did so very quietly and drank it without anyone else knowing what was happening. Nothing else was mentioned about it that day. Now every time I bring one into work, I carry it in such a way that it's hidden by my hand without being too obvious. When I enter the office, I make a controlled mad dash to my cubicle to hide the booty. Sneaky.
At least once a week, I get the what-did-you-eat-for-lunch question. I do understand that it's an innocent question with no malicious prying intended. But will it really make a difference in that person's life to find out what my gastronomic intake was for that day? (Now if it was something worth mentioning like a grilled-to-perfection filet mignon or a make-your-taste-buds-dance piece of cheesecake, I would readily spout of its praises.) This kind of question demands an answer like "food." After supplying the necessary answer, I deftly maneuver the conversation to another topic or gradually make my way back to the desk. Evasive.
In short, I guess I am a private person. If I want you to know something about me, I will tell you. Pepper me with questions, and I will sneakily evade your moves. I'm not steak au poivre.
Any questions? :-)
Have a blessed day!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Franks Pet Tribute
Pets. Where would we be without them? They never give us any lip, listen to our gripes, celebrate our victories with us (although usually involuntarily), are always there for us whenever we need them, and generally supply us with a lot of loving. All they ask for in return is good, a place to sleep, and some tender loving care. How anyone can, in the very least, neglect one and, at the absolute worst, outright abuse one is beyond me. They don't deserve the love they receive. The actually need to be chained and whipped themselves.
Over the years, my family has been blessed with several pets. They have each in their own way contributed to our overall joy and happiness. Without further ado, here is the Franks Family Pet Tribute.
Bootsie, Bam-Bam, and Buffy--Y'all never complained about living in that little pen under the locust tree. Thanks for making our young childhood fun.
Scooter--You were the cutest Scottish Terrier. I remember when you first arrived and threw-up on my pillow because you were nervous. I forgave you long ago. You had the sassiest little swing in your rump when you walked.
Tiger--You were the sweetest tom-cat anyone could ever want. You would leave for days and return to your domain a little scruffy at times, but you always remained the same and never let life make you bitter.
Effie--You were the bluest cat I have ever seen. No one has ever been able to spread their back legs as you could while cleaning yourself.
Brenda--You were a bit different, but still lovable. I will never forget the night you came to Mom's Tupperware party through the window screen. What an exciting time you caused!
Sabrina--I never knew a more patient soul than you. What all you endured from Kellie feeding you with a baby bottle and pushing you around in a doll carriage dressed in the doll's clothes will never be felt by another cat. It's no wonder you ended up with a nervous condition. But believe me, you were very loved!
Monique and Bonkers--You two were the cutest black and white kitties. It's a shame that your lives were too soon cut short. If only you had learned that car tires are not the place to rest.
Smokey--You were the fluffiest gray/silver cat I have ever seen. I will never forget the time I tricked you into thinking I was a very large cat with a too small Halloween costume! Your fur looked as if you had been electrocuted.
Spunky--You were the dickens to raise! Maybe you should have been named "Mungojerrie." Even after pulling toilet paper all over the house and constantly splashing water out of your bowl, you were the love of Mom's heart.
And finally, but by no means, the least...
Misty--You were mine. I will never forget the day I took you home from the farm when you were ready to leave your mom Twinkle. I caught you behind the propane tank and all of you was contained in the palm of my hand. All that night, you cried every time you were scared and didn't quiet down until someone came to reassure you. As you grew, you would ride in my robe pockets just like you belonged there. You kept me company as I slept and would attach yourself to my lap whenever you wanted (Sometimes I thought you had suckers under your fur). The night you died was very hard for me. But I knew that you were not suffering any longer. I still miss you.
Now if Mom would just let me have a hamster or a ferret! :-)
Have a blessed day!
Over the years, my family has been blessed with several pets. They have each in their own way contributed to our overall joy and happiness. Without further ado, here is the Franks Family Pet Tribute.
Bootsie, Bam-Bam, and Buffy--Y'all never complained about living in that little pen under the locust tree. Thanks for making our young childhood fun.
Scooter--You were the cutest Scottish Terrier. I remember when you first arrived and threw-up on my pillow because you were nervous. I forgave you long ago. You had the sassiest little swing in your rump when you walked.
Tiger--You were the sweetest tom-cat anyone could ever want. You would leave for days and return to your domain a little scruffy at times, but you always remained the same and never let life make you bitter.
Effie--You were the bluest cat I have ever seen. No one has ever been able to spread their back legs as you could while cleaning yourself.
Brenda--You were a bit different, but still lovable. I will never forget the night you came to Mom's Tupperware party through the window screen. What an exciting time you caused!
Sabrina--I never knew a more patient soul than you. What all you endured from Kellie feeding you with a baby bottle and pushing you around in a doll carriage dressed in the doll's clothes will never be felt by another cat. It's no wonder you ended up with a nervous condition. But believe me, you were very loved!
Monique and Bonkers--You two were the cutest black and white kitties. It's a shame that your lives were too soon cut short. If only you had learned that car tires are not the place to rest.
Smokey--You were the fluffiest gray/silver cat I have ever seen. I will never forget the time I tricked you into thinking I was a very large cat with a too small Halloween costume! Your fur looked as if you had been electrocuted.
Spunky--You were the dickens to raise! Maybe you should have been named "Mungojerrie." Even after pulling toilet paper all over the house and constantly splashing water out of your bowl, you were the love of Mom's heart.
And finally, but by no means, the least...
Misty--You were mine. I will never forget the day I took you home from the farm when you were ready to leave your mom Twinkle. I caught you behind the propane tank and all of you was contained in the palm of my hand. All that night, you cried every time you were scared and didn't quiet down until someone came to reassure you. As you grew, you would ride in my robe pockets just like you belonged there. You kept me company as I slept and would attach yourself to my lap whenever you wanted (Sometimes I thought you had suckers under your fur). The night you died was very hard for me. But I knew that you were not suffering any longer. I still miss you.
Now if Mom would just let me have a hamster or a ferret! :-)
Have a blessed day!
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Chickens????? RUN!!!!!!!!!!!
There seems to be a small controversy in the lovely small city of Cary, NC. There is a lady there that wants to allow Cary residents to have chickens if they so choose. There would be no roosters to limit the noise factor (City folks can't take being awaken by natural sounds. They need loud, annoying buzzes.), no more than 10 hens per coop, forbid the slaying of chickens in the backyard, and impose a fee to over any city expenditures that may occur from having chickens in the backyard. Some residents like the fact that there would be fresh eggs nearby and the cost per dozen would definitely be less than at the grocery store. These ideas sound good to me. But, naturally, Cary's powers-that-be had other ideas.
At the end of their meeting, they voted 4-3 to not even consider looking into the idea of allowing laying hens in the city limits. When I read that statement, I laughed out loud. The reasons behind their conclusion to deny are absolutely inane. Below I will list the comments and reasons followed by my thoughts...
One dissenter said that they "'do allow chickens in Cary' in areas that allow homes on 40,000-square-foot lots. I don't think we need to expand it." What does that mean? Where is there a home on a 40,000-square-foot lot? A farm?? In Cary???
The next quotes come from the same man..."It's just kind of a Pandora's box I don't want to open." He cites smell, noise, predators and the possibility of children seeing a chicken running around with its head cut off as possible side affects. Smell. Isn't that just like a city slicker? Now, I will be the first to admit that chicken manure can be potent, but with a limit of 10 hens and regular cleaning, I don't think that would be a problem. Noise. Come on now! Hens do not cluck that loudly. And with no roosters, the noise factor is non-existent. Predators. Now he's showing his ignorance of life in the city. Predators had adapted to life in the city for many years now. Yes, Cary, there are foxes, raccoons, and various other meat-eaters roaming freely in your beloved city limits. And let's not forget the local pet dog or cat that may see a cooped-up chicken as a lovely addition to its fine dining menu. Predation is part of life (for now) and if there would be an occasional chicken lost to such an act, then the owner would just had to made the necessary adjustments to prevent it from happening in the future. I just hope it won't happen to Charlene--she's the family pet. And lastly, chicken-on-a-plate. How in the world are children going to ever learn where food comes from if they don't ever see it happen? I'm not saying it wouldn't be a bit traumatic for them, but I think that modern children are a bit too sheltered in that area. Are we only supposed to lead them to believe that meat comes from the grocer's freezer and pickles come from jars on the shelves?
His second comment (said at the end of the meeting) pretty much sums up the asininity of the whole night..."Quite frankly the only chicken I want to see is in the frozen-food section of the grocery store or on a plate right in front of me, because it's 12:30 and I am starving." Do I really need to comment on that? OK...I will. I couldn't have come up with a more perfect quote from a "city-ite" than this one. He obviously is so enamored with cement and large buildings, that he can't truly appreciate the fact that chickens are harmless and would provide many benefits to the area as long as there are the above mentioned controls. I think his parents sheltered him a bit too much. He needs to visit a few farms.
To sum this up, I think the whole discussion is pretty silly. I truly don't believe that every resident would have their own chickens and turn Cary into one giant chicken coop. What's wrong with having a few hens in the back yard if there is enough room and the proper shedding? Absolutely nothing.
But then again, I'm not a politician.
Have a blessed day!
At the end of their meeting, they voted 4-3 to not even consider looking into the idea of allowing laying hens in the city limits. When I read that statement, I laughed out loud. The reasons behind their conclusion to deny are absolutely inane. Below I will list the comments and reasons followed by my thoughts...
One dissenter said that they "'do allow chickens in Cary' in areas that allow homes on 40,000-square-foot lots. I don't think we need to expand it." What does that mean? Where is there a home on a 40,000-square-foot lot? A farm?? In Cary???
The next quotes come from the same man..."It's just kind of a Pandora's box I don't want to open." He cites smell, noise, predators and the possibility of children seeing a chicken running around with its head cut off as possible side affects. Smell. Isn't that just like a city slicker? Now, I will be the first to admit that chicken manure can be potent, but with a limit of 10 hens and regular cleaning, I don't think that would be a problem. Noise. Come on now! Hens do not cluck that loudly. And with no roosters, the noise factor is non-existent. Predators. Now he's showing his ignorance of life in the city. Predators had adapted to life in the city for many years now. Yes, Cary, there are foxes, raccoons, and various other meat-eaters roaming freely in your beloved city limits. And let's not forget the local pet dog or cat that may see a cooped-up chicken as a lovely addition to its fine dining menu. Predation is part of life (for now) and if there would be an occasional chicken lost to such an act, then the owner would just had to made the necessary adjustments to prevent it from happening in the future. I just hope it won't happen to Charlene--she's the family pet. And lastly, chicken-on-a-plate. How in the world are children going to ever learn where food comes from if they don't ever see it happen? I'm not saying it wouldn't be a bit traumatic for them, but I think that modern children are a bit too sheltered in that area. Are we only supposed to lead them to believe that meat comes from the grocer's freezer and pickles come from jars on the shelves?
His second comment (said at the end of the meeting) pretty much sums up the asininity of the whole night..."Quite frankly the only chicken I want to see is in the frozen-food section of the grocery store or on a plate right in front of me, because it's 12:30 and I am starving." Do I really need to comment on that? OK...I will. I couldn't have come up with a more perfect quote from a "city-ite" than this one. He obviously is so enamored with cement and large buildings, that he can't truly appreciate the fact that chickens are harmless and would provide many benefits to the area as long as there are the above mentioned controls. I think his parents sheltered him a bit too much. He needs to visit a few farms.
To sum this up, I think the whole discussion is pretty silly. I truly don't believe that every resident would have their own chickens and turn Cary into one giant chicken coop. What's wrong with having a few hens in the back yard if there is enough room and the proper shedding? Absolutely nothing.
But then again, I'm not a politician.
Have a blessed day!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Being Me
Sometimes I start thinking about what makes me tick. Questions like "Am I normal?" or "Why did I do that?" scamper across my brain causing moments of reflection on my personality. As you go through life, you learn how you're supposed to be by watching how the people around you react to what you do. Most of the time that is very beneficial to society because it keeps total chaos and anarchy from occurring every day. There are times, however, when society tries to mold people into an image that it deems as appropriate because it's what they consider "normal." In the case of being a male, typically, and in no particular order, we are supposed to
1) be sports-crazyFirst is sports. If no more sporting events were ever played anywhere in the world, I wouldn't care. I have attended several games (and even received a bad sunburn at Yankee Stadium!) and will go again if the opportunity arises, but I can find plenty of activities to do with my time other than watching some overgrown boys playing with a stick and/or ball. Sometimes I feel like the players are very similar to a domestic dog--they may be grown physically like an adult wolf, but they still want to play all day like a puppy.
Secondly, why is it that we men are supposed to act like over-sexed teenagers when it comes to a beautiful woman? Is the overt staring, whistles, cat-calls, and comments supposed to make one feel like a man? No, I don't believe so. In fact, it appears to me that any man that acts that way is showing how much maturing he still needs to do. Would a woman want an ogler for a husband? Not at all! He should only ogle one woman and that would be his wife. There is a big difference between appreciating the beauty of a particular woman and making a spectacle of yourself. I do notice a gorgeous lady when I happen across one. And several times, I have been very nervous around them because I think to myself "What am I doing next to this beauty? Talk about a frog next to a princess!" But I don't whistle, stare or try to throw myself at her feet like some mangy dog looking for a bone. I treat them with all the respect they are due.
Thirdly, in my opinion, a macho man has way too much testosterone for his own good. Why do men always try to have the biggest gun or the fastest car or the latest gadgets or to see who can throw the ball the farthest or run the fastest? Isn't there more to life than competition? Most assuredly there is! Just because a man excels in one particular area doesn't mean that the next guy is inferior or less of a man. We are all made differently and each of us has our own special ability. Isn't it strange how some of the most macho men couldn't find themselves out of a cave with a highlighted map? I am glad that I have sense enough to add 2 and 2 to arrive at 4. You'd be surprised at the ones that get 3!!
And fourthly, foolish behavior. We all have had foolish times in our lives and I am no exception to that rule. But some men never learn. They constantly act the fool and genuinely think it's funny. Waking up with a pounding headache only to repeat the drinking binge that brought on the pain the following night. Racing in and out of traffic with the latest in speed worship with no regard for those around you. And the list could go on and on. What fun is in these things? I prefer to act with all my sanity in tact. God knows that a lot more of that is needed in this crazy world.
Finally, let me share with you where all my moments of reflection and these ramblings have led me. Psalm 139:14-15 I will praise Thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made marvelous are Thy works; and that my soul knows right well. My substance was not hid from Thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. God made me the person I am. He placed me in the loving home of my parents. Together through this "nature" and "nurture," He created a unique individual (Some people would really emphasize the word unique, but that's for their own post ;-) ) that is happy with who he is and would never want to change to be a "man" as the world defines it.
Have a blessed day!
And fourthly, foolish behavior. We all have had foolish times in our lives and I am no exception to that rule. But some men never learn. They constantly act the fool and genuinely think it's funny. Waking up with a pounding headache only to repeat the drinking binge that brought on the pain the following night. Racing in and out of traffic with the latest in speed worship with no regard for those around you. And the list could go on and on. What fun is in these things? I prefer to act with all my sanity in tact. God knows that a lot more of that is needed in this crazy world.
Finally, let me share with you where all my moments of reflection and these ramblings have led me. Psalm 139:14-15 I will praise Thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made marvelous are Thy works; and that my soul knows right well. My substance was not hid from Thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. God made me the person I am. He placed me in the loving home of my parents. Together through this "nature" and "nurture," He created a unique individual (Some people would really emphasize the word unique, but that's for their own post ;-) ) that is happy with who he is and would never want to change to be a "man" as the world defines it.
Have a blessed day!
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