Filed under: church
Went Well! They asked us questions about doctrinal stuff, we answered, they voted us in, and I insulted the preacher.
After they voted us in, Pastor B said that they’d install us in front of the congregation but not this upcoming Sunday because it was a communion Sunday plus they were doing a baptism so if they brought us up as well the sermon would only be 5 minutes long. So I blurted “so I think we should do it this Sunday then!”
Mah mouth, she has a mind of her own. I did get extra credit for referrencing this morning’s Sunday school lesson on Romans and Natural Law.
Terry did very well, with nary a Free Will Baptist answer about being washed in the blood.
Anyway the whole affair was congenial and relaxed, no hard questions (at least, none that we didn’t know the answer to), I even gave a complicated answer to the question of “what is the true nature of God” that involved stuff about the Triune God and His incomprehensible vastness and all. That pleased Pastor B I think because it wasn’t all mushy God is Love (which is true but lacks that *punch* Reformationists delight in).
So it’s done, we’ve been voted in and handshaken. Now all that’s needed is to go before the congregation and take our vows! TaDa!
This time last week I woke up with a pounding headache. It felt like a small troupe of tympani drummers had installed themselves behind my eyeballs and were practicing their bit for Thus Spake Zarathustra. BOOM boom BOOM boom…ad nauseum. When I sat up with a groan, there was a sloshing sensation, also behind my eyes. Great, I thought. My sinuses are revolting.
SO I stayed home from church, missed the 4th Sunday Dinner (tho I made sure Terry and #4 went and they kindly brought me back a ginormous cup of broccoli cheese soup), and nursed my poor revolting sinuses. Hot tea (a sore throat was involved, thanks to drainage), sitting upright, girly TV and a desperate plea to Terry to PLEASE stop at the store and get me some sinus stuff.
It works, this nice pharmaceutical blend of decongestant, mucalytics, and pain relief. Phooey on those pansy homeopathic remedies. I Want Drugs.
I’ve been taking it all week, half a dose twice a day (rather than the full dose 4 times a day) works just fine. However, in the mornings, there’s this…period of time spent…making…erm…unladylike noises. Horking, and snorting, and this ratcheting sound that happens, slurpy noises, all those things I remember Mom doing and being so disgusted by them when I was a teen. “can’t you do that in PRIVATE?!” I’d think. Well, no. I answer my 17 yr old self. It’s my house and I’ll hork if I want to.
Fortunately that hour spent sounding like a…well I don’t know what…but making Unapproved Noises…serves to clear the head and once it’s over I’m great for a while, with wind whistling through my head and palpable relief causing sighs of happiness. Life is good when one can hork with vigor.
Tomorrow we meet with the preacher and elders of Trinity Church to see about joining. “What?” you say, “Shouldn’t a church let anyone in?” Well sure, I answer, but not for communion, or possible leadership positions.
They just want to check us out, to make sure we’re joining the church for the right reasons, and not just to get our kid in the private school there, or as a social thing. We’ve already met with the pastor, taken the Inquirer’s class (basically Presbyterianism 101) and gotten a wee bit involved here and there.
I’m not concerned, except that Terry still has a bit of the Baptist in him and I’m not sure how he’ll answer some of the questions they’ll probably ask.
Are you a sinner?
Well yes, of course I am. I’m a desperate sinner worthy of death and hellfire. Fortunately God saw fit to show his endless mercy and grace through Jesus Christ…etc. That’s the presbyterian answer. The Baptist answer would be “not anymore, I’m washed in the Blood of the Lamb” which is the wrong answer. I hope they let us sit next to each other so I can pass him crib notes. Or stomp on his foot.
Anyway, it will be nice to make it official. While I don’t agree with everything they stand for, it’s not necessary that I do. Those things I truly don’t agree with, I can speak up (in private, probably with the preacher and his wife after I’ve greased him a bit with fine scotch and a cigar. I found out from her that he has a fondness for such). Probably mostly I’ll keep my mouth shut, because it’s what I do anyway, unless I am totally 100% comfortable with whomever I’m talking to.
Oh! Another thing! Peaches (the preacher’s wife, could there possibly be a better name for a preacher’s wife? NO?? I DIDN’T THINK SO!) and I were talking and somehow the subject of guns came up. I tenatively advanced the information that I owned one or two, including a handgun and she was all “OH! I’ve always wanted to know how to use one! You never know when some cretin is going to break into the house and try to hurt you!” I’m still smiling over that. The comparison between her and the last preacher’s wife we had is priceless and refreshing. The last one? Total stick up her arse, painted pansies on teapots and called it art, and disliked my children immensely (and irrationally, I believe).
So. tomorrow we make it official. tomorrow I get to trot out my fine illustrious Presbyterian heritage and ride it a bit (and yes, it’s long and many-storied, including the first Presbyterian minister to establish the church in The (hand over heart please) Republic of Texas (Richard Overton Watkins), and traceable back to John Knox and John Calvin Reformation days). Terry, as a Baptist, will have to ride *my* coattails for once.
Filed under: *eep!, Awesomeness, food, He'p meh He'p meh Oh Lawzy He'p meh, oh you self indulgent hussy!
I’m piddling my way through the latest Fine Cooking email and there’s this ad to the side that catches my eye. O mah saints and angels…
Natually I click on it, can’t help mahself.
It’s salt, that tastes like bacon. You put it on stuff like french fries. I’m verklempt.
I got a little dizzy.
I wonder if it would be better to use it, and perhaps endure the salt, than it would to actually eat a piece of bacon and endure all the assorted sodium consequences on top of the saturated fat…(she plots)
Has anyone else out there ever tried this stuff?
Is it sinful?
Filed under: Dewicate feewings, Disease and infirmity | Tags: oh no not another diet post
(to borrow a word from Cute Overload)
Here’s the situation. I’m a bit overweight, by say, 50 pounds. High blood pressure, kidney disease, high triglycerides, but the cholesterol’s ok. Now, for the kidney disease I’m supposed to cut out the salt and potassium. Essentially that means limited vegetables,no leafy greens, no whole grains or nuts,no potatoes or tomatoes or oranges, limited protien (say, 3 oz a day of meat), and absolutely NO dairy. I am allowed all I want of white bread, white rice, white pasta, cruciferous veg (cabbage, broccoli, etc) and apples. HOWEVER, due to the high triglycerides, I am not allowed to eat white bread, white pasta or white rice. I am supposed to eat lots of high fiber whole grains, nuts, leafy greans.
So, boil it all down and I can have all the cabbage and apples I want, with a piece of meat the size of a deck of cards once a day. This is the New Rootie Diet. Cabbage and apples, and vitamins because…because I’m not allowed anything that’s actually delicious or high fiber or…y’know…GOOD for you.
So, I whined long and loud to the Good Dr. Courage, about the whole low potassium thing in particular. He said I could allow myself 1 half cup serving of whole grains a day. That being, 1 slice of bread, OR 1/2 cup of brown rice, OR 1/2 cup of any other whole grain like oats or whatever. I could have sushi if I didn’t have the nori. Ok, sushi without the nori is like a sandwich without the bread. HUH?!
And, I cheat. I have potatoes. And cheese. And bacon (bacon’s like..The Devil. High sodium, high fat, might as well just shoot my veins with pure cholesterol). And a spinach salad. Once a week I have each one of these things. Sometimes all in the same day, then I sit down and wait to die. The next day I try to atone for my dietary sins by eating cabbage and white rice and apples. And you know what? It’s worth it. A baked potato with cheese and bacon on it, a spinach salad with an egg and some bottled high salt dressing, and oh glory, Mandarin oranges. Fine then, if I die I’m going to die satisfied. Throw in some sex and I’ll die happy.
The good news is this: I’ve lost weight. It’s really not hard to lose weight if the only things you can eat are nasty and boring. My clothes are all quite loose, for the first time in probably 8 years I’ve dropped below 200 pounds. I have a couple of corsets, very comfortable things they are, keeping the back straight and the boobs perky. I put one on the other day, and…it’s too loose. Even laced up as tight as it would go I kinda rattled around in it. Lordy, I’m going to need all new clothes this spring. I reckon it’s time to break out the sewing machine and find a coupla patterns I like.
SO, if anyone’s interested in losing weight, that’s how it’s done. Only eat food you don’t like, and don’t put salt on it, then you’ll only eat a little bit until you get so bored with it you give up and go do something else.
I think I might be kinda allergic to onions. I love onions, and they’re in about everything I cook. However, recently (like in the past couple of years-recently is a relative thing when you pass 40) whenever I cook something with onions in it, any kind of onion be they leeks, scallions, whatever, my face turns red and starts burning a bit, and my throat tightens a little. I don’t seem to have an issue with eating them. There’s no asthmatic reaction or hives or rashes or anything, just this uncomfortable heat thing with my face and eyes.
How on earth am I supposed to make potato leek soup, or pot roast, or grilled chops with caramelized onions, or Cuban chicken stew…without onions? Might as well try to make a chocolate cake without cocoa powder, or chai tea without cinnamon.
Tonight I’m making this cauliflower soup that has leeks in it, and as I was sauteeing the leeks I noticed that familiar reaction, the face gets hot and turns red, my eyes burn a teeny bit, and I can feel my throat getting a little bit tighter. The kids noticed I was getting kind of hoarse as well. Once everything is nice and cooked it’s not so bad. But for a while there, it’s uncomfortable.
first they take away my salt, then the potatoes and brown rice, now the onions? Well, I guess it’s one way to lose weight- make everything so bland you don’t want to eat it.
Filed under: *eep!, Dewicate feewings, friends IRL, friends online, Sometimes she thinks too much
–noun 1. a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.
2. a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: friends of the Boston Symphony.
3. a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile: Who goes there? Friend or foe?
4. a member of the same nation, party, etc.
5. (initial capital letter) a member of the Religious Society of Friends; a Quaker.
—Idiom7. make friends with, to enter into friendly relations with; become a friend to.
bef. 900; ME friend, frend, OE frēond friend, lover, relative (c. OS friund, OHG friunt (G Freund), Goth frijōnds), orig. prp. of frēogan, c. Goth frijōn to love
1. comrade, chum, crony, confidant. See acquaintance. 2. backer, advocate. 4. ally, associate, confrere, compatriot.
–noun 1. the state of being a friend; association as friends: to value a person’s friendship.
2. a friendly relation or intimacy.
3. friendly feeling or disposition.
bef. 900; ME; OE frēondscipe. See friend, -ship
2. harmony, accord, understanding, rapport.
“Friendship” has pretty broad definitions today. You can “friend” someone you don’t even know, you may never meet, maybe even someone you’d probably never associate with in real life, if you had the opportunity. Facebook has made “friend” a verb, as in “to friend someone” I have facebook friends who are people I forgot about 25 years ago, but apparently they didn’t forget me, and asked me to ‘friend’ them. That was a little weird, but I did anyway, more out of curiosity than anything.
Friendship is a serious thing for me. I’ve never had large collections of friends, not as I define them. It doesn’t come easily for me to give myself into a relationship with another person. Friendship *must*, by my reckoning, be mutual. I have to be able to whine about my problems to them as I let them do to me, and get sympathy in return, as I (try to) give to them. I have to laugh, cry, worry, and bounce ideas off of them. It must absolutely be mutually beneficial.
I admit that I am not the best friend in the world. I worry sometimes that I’m not empathetic, at least not outwardly, so the person *knows* I’m thinking of them. If a friend is going through a really rough time, I’m awkward and not really sure of what I’m supposed to do. So, I do what I know I can. I try to listen to them, I certainly pray for them. I attempt to encourage them. I hope for the same thing in return, when I’m having difficulties, and in the case of a couple of people, I do receive this, these are the people I consider my truest friends.
So now I am in a position where the possibility of making a new friend or two is there. And it terrifies me. What if I screw up? Do I know the rules of the game? What if it turns into the same thing I dealt with when I was younger, where all the right noises were made and my defenses relaxed then BOOM…suddenly the whole world (so it seemed) knew all my history and made a mockery of it, or they made all the polite noises but never asked me to lunch with the rest of them.
It doesn’t seem like that’s whats happening, but I am cautious…wary,even. That caution makes me awkward, unsure of the right things to say or do, so I end up not doing the right thing and coming off as a little weird,awkward,socially inept.
Online friendships are something similar. I am still uncertain about the authenticity of them. Sometimes they seem onesided, and by my definition friendship is definitely a 2 way street. I’m not sure how to move ahead, or even if I should. I don’t know that baring my soul is something that ought to happen. I do know that until I’m sure, it won’t happen.
What I worry about is if I say what’s on my mind, the response will be “oh shut your whining. You have it good and you know it.” Yes, I do have it good, and I know that. I also know I have the insecurities and fears of any other person, and would appreciate some reciprocity when it comes to voicing them. Because that’s what friendship is.
I’ve been pondering online friendships over the weekend. Who is supposed to be my friend? Anyone? People I have similar interests with? Someone I’d let stay in my home? Someone who’s company I would enjoy IRL, and who would likewise enjoy mine? Someone who respects my life and who’s life I also respect? It’s hard to tell, isn’t it, when the only way you know them is through words on a screen. So I am thinking caution is is order here. A step back, perhaps, some evaluation. Some time, even. I’m not sure how I am going to go about it, but I’m going to start by really seriously thinking…cogitation, rumination…all that. Because friendship is important, not to be taken lightly, definitely not to be taken lightly.
Filed under: *eep!
we’re watching the news and this ad for Restasis comes on, that prescription stuff for chronic dry eye, and they’re giving the 2700 warnings at the end where you’re not supposed to use it if you have this or that.
“Herpes of the eye??” Terry says.
“I figured it was what happens when you look for love in all the wrong places.” he said.
Filed under: *whinge*
There was this little tickle in my throat last night, maybe a touch of sinus drainage, a wee bit of a headache, nothing a couple of tylenol couldn’t handle. Just to be safe, I borrowed a friend’s home remedy of gargling with apple cider vinegar just before bed. Nothing like going to bed smelling like a pickle barrel to spark the ol’ romance…whew!
During the night, say, 1am or so, I woke up with this thundering herd of wild mucus beasts stomping around behind my eyes and oozing their way down my throat (that felt like I’d gargled with broken glass). NASTY
More vinegar gargle, tylenol PM this time, and “great, I was wanting to go to church we’re studying Romans in Sunday School and I love Romans and if I go I’ll infect the entire population. I’ll make Terry and #4 go and tell me what happened.”
I don’t think it’s the flu. It doesn’t feel like the flu, just a sore throat (Thank You God, for inspiring my parents to convince the doctor to remove my tonsils when I was 18 otherwise I’d be in pure unadulterated misery. As it is, my throat is sore and hot coffee helps, plus I’ll keep up with the vinegar gargle. Even when something sucky happens, life is still worth living.)
It may not be the flu, but it is a good excuse to own the remote, lay on the couch and drink hot drinks, eat salt (sorry Dr. Courage, when one has a sore throat, salt is required. Blood pressure be damned), and remind the menfolk that the household contains a Delicate Flower.
I’m thinking I’ll finish up Cranford, watch North and South again, read a little, maybe plan the garden a bit. Y’know, Delicate Flower activities. Dressing is still optional.