Too busy to post, that is.

This will have to do.

We are out today delivering firewood.  We have one delivery left to do.

But right now we are in Eau Claire at Best Buy and I am updating my  blog for the day on one of their computers. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess!

Also..we are buying a NEW computer for my office.

Yay!

The winner of yesterday's random drawing is "leasejw!"  Happy for you to win!

Let me know which book you would like and I will get it sent out for you!

Happy Saturday to all!

This post may be a little scattered...as my thoughts on trucks are somewhat scattered and various.

Actually, that’s maybe my brain in general I am talking about.

Wait a minute...

What was my random word of the day?  

I got side-tracked for a minute there.

Oh, truck.

 

Well, first off, I have long held on to a romanticized notion about trucks and truck driving.

My Dad was a truck driver in the 70’s.

In fact, he was out on the truck when I was born, which is how I came to be called the “Transport City Girl.” That’s where he was when I was born. Transport City. Georgia, I think.

Wish my Mom would have been there too.

Because that would mean that I would have been born in Georgia and most probably lived there during my growing up years.

Which would have been a WHOLE LOT warmer than Wisconsin.  And then we’d already live there, instead of us having this conversation every year about how we REALLY want to move to someplace warmer.

Can you tell I’m still a little bitter about this very, very long winter we’ve had? (I wish you could hear the tone of voice that is in my head. It would make these last 5 lines SO much more interesting!)

Dad used to tell us all of these trucking stories and I would listen with rapt attention. I was so fascinated. Life on the road.  How cool would that be?

For a long time I thought that once I got married, my husband and I would become a husband/wife team and drive a big rig.

Couple of problems here...

#1 - If you know me AT ALL, you would know that I will probably never be capable of driving a “big rig.” Heck, I can barely drive a stick-shift Sunfire.  See what I mean?

#2 - Where to leave the kids during all of our trips?

#3 - By now, I realize that the job is probably not nearly as fun as I made it out to be in my mind.

Needless to say, that little dream never materialized.  But I did hang on to that one for probably at least 5 years.

Traveling is in my blood.  I guess I probably get that from my Dad.  Sometimes...I just need to hit the open highway and go somewhere...it doesn’t really matter where.

I guess they call that “wanderlust.”

I still have a fascination with big trucks.  When we are traveling, especially at night, and we see this chromed-out truck, all lit up with those rows of lights along the trailer and the truck, nothing else comes to my mind to say except “Wow! That’s purty.”  And Jeremy can’t help but agree.

 

Jeremy and I used to play this game when we were traveling where Jeremy would call out the makes of all the semi trucks as we would meet them, and I would keep a ledger with columns for each make.  (Um...yeah, this was pre-kids.  Totally.)

Mack, Kenworth, Peterbilt, Western Star, Freightliner, Volvo, International...

I don’t remember which one usually won, but I am guessing it was either Freightliner or Kenworth.

I always had a special spot in my heart for the Kenworth anyway, because that is what my Dad drove.


And now, switching gears (no pun intended), but still on the subject of trucks...

Let’s talk about the pick up truck.

When I met Jeremy, he drove a Dodge two tone (greenish/blue and silver) pick up.
Later, just before we got married, we bought a very sexy black Dodge.
Then we had the red Chevy.
Now we’ve got the green Chevy.

 

That is our family history of pick ups. We’ve always had one.
A guy’s got to have himself a pick up.  At least my guy does.

But...the vehicle with which the majority of my “truck” memories are associated is the one that Jeremy drove when we met.

Not only did we travel to North Dakota in that truck...which was when our romance really began in earnest...we also did a LOT of dating in that truck.

I best not go into a lot of detail.  There may be small children reading this.  Or people who know me who would be happy for the gossip about my life as a young dating girl.  Or people who would be disappointed in me.

Let’s just say that we took a lot of road trips in that truck and we also spent a lot of evenings driving (and parking) on the backroads around our area.

If we wanted to be alone and not at his house or mine, the truck was our hide-out.  And it had wheels, so it could take us wherever we needed to go.

Ahhh...good memories.  Young love.  Excitement.  Just driving around. No where to be and nothing we had to do.

That seems like a really, really long time ago.

And I guess it kind of was.  12 ½ years.  Dang, I’m gettin’ old!

Anyway...that pretty much concludes my ramblings about trucks.

What do some of your favorite truck memories consist of?

 

 

 

**Once again, I will draw a random winner from the list of everyone who leaves a comment on my blog today...this Fabulous Friday!

 

Tomorrow when I post, I will announce the winner and you will receive the book of your choice from the list below, along with a little something extra.

 

Thanks for commenting...

 

Book List:

 

Inspirations for a Mother’s Soul (Mostly verses by category...New Living Translation)
Standing on the Promises - Susan Wales (Taken by a previous winner)
Too Much of a Good Thing - Dan Kindlon
7 Secrets of Successful Families - Jimmy Evans
A Hand to Guide Me - Denzel Washington
The Yada Yada Prayer Group - Neta Jackson
Even God Rested - Kim Thomas
The Heart of a Woman - Maya Angelou
Meditations on Proverbs for Couples - Les and Leslie Parrott
Esther...A Story of Courage - Trudy J. Morgan-Cole (Taken by a previous winner)
The Wedding - Nicholas Sparks
Putting Family First - William Doherty and Barbara Carlson
From Baghdad, With Love - Colonel Jay Kopelman
The Complete Household Organizer from Good Housekeeping (Taken by a previous winner)
Sharing His Secrets - Vickey Banks
Forgiving the Unforgivable - David Stoop
Dinner with a Perfect Stranger - David Gregory
Wake up Laughing - (Upbeat Devotions for the “Unconventional” Woman) - Rachel St. John-Gilbert
Hugs for those in Love - Ron and Lyn Rose
A Nickel’s Worth of Hope - Dr. Andre Vandenberg
Dancing through the Shadows - Theresa Tomlinson
Following Christ - Joseph Stowell
The Calling - Brother Andrew
John’s Story (The Last Eyewitness)  Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins
What Happens When Women Pray - Evelyn Christenson
It’s All About Him - Denise Jackson
Story of a Soul - The Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux
The Thinking Chair - Audrey Brown
Soul Talk - Larry Crabb
Have a New Husband by Friday - Dr. Kevin Leman (Taken by a previous winner)
The Partner - John Grisham
Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks
The Letter - Richard Paul Evans
Only Love is Real - Brian Weiss
Cream and Bread - Janet Martin and Allen Todnem
Dear John - Nicholas Sparks
Broken on the Back Row - Sandi Patty
Living Faith - Jimmy Carter
The 5 Love Needs of Men and Women - Dr. Gary and Barbara Rosberg
Simplifying Your Life - Mac Hammond
Your Child Wonderfully Made - Larry Burkett and Rick Osborne
Applause of Heaven - Max Lucado
My Utmost for His Highest - Oswald Chambers daily devotional
Capture his Heart - Lysa Terkeurst
Letters to Karen - Charlie Shedd
Men, Women, and Relationships - John Gray
Official Rules of Card Games
The Memory Keeper’s Daughter - Kim Edwards
Tramp for the Lord - Corrie ten Boom
To Love and Be Loved - Sam Keen

You know that bird that is the largest of them all?

The one who lays the largest egg of any living bird?

The one who can run at speeds of over 40 mph?

The one that I have something in common with, according to popular myth?

Yup, we're talking about the ostrich.

 

What do an ostrich and I have in common?

Well, it is certainly not the "largest egg" thing.  Or the "runs really, really fast" thing.

Beings I can barely run at.all.  Much less over 40 miles per hour. 

I'm lucky if I can run a quarter mile, with body parts flopping and flapping everywhere, before I crumple into a quivering, panting heap.

What we DO have in common is the tendency to bury our heads in the sand.

(I actually did a little extra research - yes, you're welcome - and found that the idea of ostrich's burying their heads in the sand is actually a myth and is not really true.  Just FYI.  But the saying and the myth still remain strong and we all know the meaning of saying: "bury your head in the sand")

 

When it comes to matters of international affairs and politics and the such like, I am strikingly similar to the ostrich.

I would just as soon not know what is going on.

Here are my reasons.

You can print them out and study them if you like.

#1 - I feel like I cannot do anything about all of the issues in the world anyway.

#2 - Learning about the awful things that are going on just makes me feel anxious and worried.

#3 - I have enough of things to take care of in my own little world and in relationship to the people around me.

 

Jeremy and I have quite the opposing view on this whole subject.

To the point that, for one of the first times in our marriage, I think he is a little ashamed of the position I take on this issue.

Jeremy listens to all kinds of news. He listens to Glen Beck.  He listens to other talk programs and information about what is going on in our country and around the world.  He likes to say things like "All it takes for things to go downhill is for a few good men (or women, as I am pretty sure is implied here) not to do anything!" 

When a discussion about the next election comes up, he's right in the middle of it. Throwing around names that I have never heard and talking intelligently while I try to pretend that I am totally immersed in the book I am reading.  That I just went and picked up when the discussion started.

Its not that I don't care about the suffering in the world.

Names of countries and places that are big in the news flash through my mind.

Libya.

Japan.

Pakistan.

 

But that is about the extent of my knowledge of what is going on in the international scene.

I know that our country has major problems.

I know that we have a very, very alarming national debt. 

I have some information about the direction Obama may be trying to take our country.

I know that this all may effect me one day.

 

But the truth is...I can barely keep things functioning in my own life.

I'm having trouble keeping the toilets clean, making sure there are clean work pants in the dresser drawer for my husband and keeping the dog hair off of the floor.

I honestly do not have the brain cells or the energy to ponder international and domestic crises.  I am not proud of this.  It is just the truth.

Does this make me unintelligent?  Sometimes I wonder. 

Can I be intelligent in other areas of my life but totally oblivious when it comes to the larger issues in this world?

We talked about this in our book club recently.  One of the other girls said the same thing...that she quit watching the news and immersing herself in what was going on around the world because it just made her feel anxious.  She didn't see the point in getting worked up when there wasn't anything she could do.

Bless her heart for making me feel a little better about myself.

 

Lately, when Jeremy and I were out on a date, at our favorite steakhouse in our area...this subject came up.

Great date material, wouldn't you say?

So...I asked Jeremy, what do you propose we do to stave off the coming economic collapse?

Practically speaking, if you feel like the country is going to be going DOWN fairly soon, what should we as a family be doing?

He said that #1, he feels like we should get out of debt.  Thankfully, we are not so terribly far from that, but it will probably be another 10 years or so before our house is paid off.  (This discussion also makes the idea of buying a Harley a little more out of the question...since we would have to borrow money for that.  Score one point for Audrey!)

He also thinks that it would be a good idea to buy rice and beans and other canned goods that we could store for possible hard times. He said that we could rotate these foods through our regular groceries if we don't need them within six months or a year.

I almost started to cry.  I am somewhat ashamed to admit it but yes, I did actually get tears in my eyes.

Because to me, the idea of buying MORE groceries, putting them on the shelves in the basement storage room, and then trying to use them by their expiration dates (think large quantities of rice and dried beans), feels very overwhelming to me.

Yeah, that's how close to THE EDGE I am.

I feel like I should do this. Because he thinks that it would be wise and because he wants me to.

But I have tried it before and it is nearly impossible to use the stuff that I have stock piled in a timely manner and for some reason, it just feels wasteful and overwhelming to me.

One.more.thing. that I need to take care of.

I'm a Mom. I'm a wife. I am a friend. I have a job. I have my own self to try to take care of.

I am just pretty much maxed out right now.

Its not that I don't think it is wise to be informed about international issues.  Its not that I don't think what is happening in our country is important.

I just think that for this time in my life, I will trust Jeremy to let me know if anything major is happening and I'll keep my head buried in the sand.

I'm happier that way.

But...if I start laying HUGE eggs...I may have to reconsider.

My story lately kind of went like this:

I prayed and fasted that God would give me a VERY real understanding of His love so that I could pass that love on to others around me.

Instead of showering me with some Holy dew-drops and an immense understanding of God's great love (which I would have much preferred, by the way), He showed me that I can only be filled with His love when I am emptied of myself.

Humility.

Ok, now we're talking active participation on my part.

I was sort of hoping for divine intervention and then I could just sit back and thank Him for His outlandish blessings in my life.

That would have been easier. And brought so much glory to Him, you would think, as I shared my story with those around me. How God had just opened the windows of heaven and poured His love down over me like a river. Ah...I could totally picture telling me friends all about it.

As I was reading a book on Humility by Andrew Murray he got into some practical application.

How do we learn humility? Well, it is by using all of the everyday situations in our lives to teach us humility.

I sat and thought about this for a while.

What would be an example of a situation in my life where I could learn humility?

Maybe if someone spoke badly about me and I didn't get all defensive. That would be showing humility.

How about if I did the household chores and served my family graciously and kindly? That would show humility.

What about a situation where I had something to say in a conversation, but I listened instead, deferring to someone else? That could be showing a growth in humility.

OK, God. I need your help, but I am willing to start down this road of learning what it means to be humble.

Emptied of myself and MY agendas and MY thoughts and MY self-focus. Dependent on you to be my EVERYTHING.

But, like a lot of things in life...the lessons come packaged differently than I had anticipated.

As I was running possible "humility teaching" scenarios through my head, I wasn't thinking this.

A Saturday at home.
My own list of chores and plans for the day.
Going to Jeremy's shop and offering to help load a firewood crate for him if he would get it out there for me before I had to work on other stuff in the house.

And having him say, in a sharp tone of voice "Well, I was waiting for you. I'll get it out there for you right now if you are going to start on it now."

Not..."Oh, honey. Thank you SO much for offering. That is so kind of you, my dear. I know this is not your responsibility. Since you offered so nicely, I'll be happy to come out and help you."

Nope.

Just plopped that ole' crate out there in the mud and snow next to the that big old firewood pile and went back to his project in the shop.

So there I was.

Fuming.

Feeling anything but an attitude of servanthood and humility.

He parked the crate at a spot where the ice had frozen down the tarp, and even though I tried to chop away at it with the shovel, fueled by irritation and something close to anger, I couldn't get that stupid ice to budge.

Derrick and I were left to try and throw wood from a narrow strip of firewood that was sticking out of the tarp and the more wood we threw, the further we got away from the crate.

My back was hurting after about 10 minutes.

I was so.not.cheerful.

Inside I was thinking things like "Who does he think he is? Plopping this crate out here for me and expecting me to just fill it. I hate this stupid firewood business anyway. This is HIS dream. Not mine. I wish we'd just get rid of the whole business."

"I don't want to spend my Saturday's filling crates. I don't even like manual labor. I want to sit and read. Or just relax. Or do something fun as a family."

"He never even asked ME if I had anything I needed help with in the house. We are expecting guests for supper. What if I needed HIS help? Has he offered? Oh, no. What about poor little old me?"

And then I heard His Spirit speak to me.

I have to admit, I kind of wanted to just punch His Spirit in the face.

Because He said to me, in that still small voice...

"My dear child...wouldn't this be a chance for you to practice some of that humility? This is what I am trying to teach you. Service for others when there is nothing in return. Doing a job that feels like it is 'beneath' you. Being cheerful and giving even when the other person isn't seeming to be grateful."

"But God", I argued. "I didn't think you were talking about throwing firewood. I thought learning humility would at least be a little more glamorous than this. I wanted to at least be recognized for the fact that I showed humility in a situation. This...this...there's NOTHING in this for ME!"

"Exactly", He whispered into my heart.

"But...but....THIS isn't what I had pictured. My back hurts. My husband isn't even out here helping me. There are 3!! crates to fill. Are you really asking me to do this job cheerfully and without resentment? Seriously? Because I totally feel like I've got some right to be feeling a little miffed just about now."

And I just kept hearing His gentle, reminding voice. "Do you want to learn humility or don't you? Do you want to be emptied of yourself so you can be filled with Me? Even if it doesn't look like what you had pictured? Are you willing to trust Me with this?"

And then I'm pretty sure He said this "Then just throw the dang firewood, girl. And you better have a smile on your face."

I heard Him. I heard Him loud and clear.

Did I cheer right up?

Not really.

I sorta cheered up.

And when Jeremy came out after a while, I was at least not fuming anymore.

But I did ask Jeremy to move the crate to a better place for throwing and I did think to myself that I was going to ask Jeremy to help with the other 2 crates, at least.

Again, my mistakes. My humanity. My lack of dependence and trust in God.

Instead of saying a quick prayer that God would nudge Jeremy to help with the job, I just didn't say anything.

But so often God shows us extraordinary grace in ordinary moments when we are too feeble and human to even remember to ask for it.

Without me saying anything, Jeremy got in there and started to throw firewood with Derrick and I.

And I felt grateful. And ashamed of myself.

We stopped for lunch and afterwards the boys helped load 1 crate and I went out and helped to load the last one.

And it was done.

Then God provided another little answer to an un-prayed request when our guests called and requested that we go out to eat at a local pizza place. So, instead of me spending a good part of my afternoon making food for our evening meal, I still got that relaxation time that I had been craving.

I want to learn humility. Yes, I do.

But I find such deep ugliness and selfishness in my heart.

Even in the learning, I want to have some control. I want the learning to come packaged the way I had pictured.

I guess sometimes the only way God is going to get through to someone like me is to hit me over the head with a crate full of firewood.

At the office I work at on Monday mornings, the lady always leaves her already-read magazines for me.

I picked up the People magazine and this is what I saw on the front cover:

I studied the picture a little longer and honed in especially on the faces of the biological children of the Jolie-Pitt clan. (Anyone know why it is not the "Pitt-Jolie" clan?  Just wondering.)

And yes, it is confusing to me.

You look at these faces

and you just have to wonder...

 

How did these people

make cuter kids than Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie?? 

And I don't think I'm being biased.

I mean, look at them...

Are these kids ^^^ not WAY cuter than

 

These Kids?

I mean, I'm starting to think that all of the good looks in the Jolie-Pitt children are coming through in the adopted kids.

Shiloh is 4 years old and looks almost completely like a boy.  She even dresses like a boy.  (Check out the striped brown and tan shirt and the tan pants.)

And where, oh where, exactly is Angelina picking up these kids clothes?  Is she sending the nanny to the nearest Salvation Army with $20 and the wrong size information?  Look at poor little Knox. 

He is wearing a sport coat and matching pants (even that in itself is somewhat disturbing) that look like they are for a kid who is about a size 4 when poor little Knox is only a size 2 or 3.

Little Viv fared a little better, but she is still looking less than stellar, in my opinion.

It reminds me of this one family that we knew when we were teenagers.

They had some sons in their family that were mighty f.i.n.e.

The parents were quite plain looking. Maybe even homely.

Yet somehow, they turned out these boys who were quite handsome.

This led to a number of discussions among my siblings and I about how often you see that happen...Very good-looking parents...not so cute kids.

Homely parents...stunning kids.

I think this dynamic is presenting itself in the case of the Pitt-Jolie children.  You would think "Oh.my.word!" Two of the most beautiful people in the world (Ok, I have my own opinions about Angelina's looks, but many men would argue that she is one of the most beautiful people in the world) making babies!!  How cu-ute will they be?!  Sku-weeel!

Turns out...not that terribly cute.

They certainly aren't going to be winning any "cutest kid" contests.

Not if I am the judge.

Maybe they will "come into their own" later in life and I will have to eat major crow.

Maybe they will just be such awesome actors that no one will really care how they look.

Maybe Shiloh will eventually decide to start dressing like a girl.

 

But in the meantime, I'm putting my money on Suri Cruise.

 

 

(Disclaimer: I am aware that this post is very shallow and that looks are not everything. At all.

I also am aware that I "love to hate" Angelina Jolie and that I am just a little happy that her kids are not so cute.

But I still think I'm right!)

**NOTE: If you did not see my "Live", very looonng video interview that I linked to in my post yesterday, maybe you want to go back and watch it. If you are interested. Because I don't know if there will ever be another one!

Some days I decide to take a break from the "Random Word" theme...

If I have something else I want to blog about but don't have a random word that I can make fit.

I guess I'm allowed to do that, right?

Friday night Jeremy was especially tired and I was not especially tired, so I stayed up and watched an episode of "How I met your Mother" after he fell asleep.

In this episode, they got to talking about how in every relationship, there is a "reacher" and a "settler."

There is the person who has ended up with the BEST they could possible hope for. They have "reached" out of their league, so to speak.

The other person has settled for someone who is probably less than what they could have gotten in a boyfriend/girlfriend or spouse.

You know how sometimes you see that couple, that just by looks alone, you say to yourself (or whoever you are with) "How did SHE end up with him?" or "What did HE see in her?"

Take Courtney Cox and David Arquette. I mean, seriously, Courtney. Was it that funky way he dresses or that crazy hair?

Do tell? What REALLY did attract you to David?

Or the couple that you get to know and he's just a jerk and she is the sweetest thing ever.

And you shake your head and say to yourself "What made her end up with him? I wonder if he was always a jerk or if he just became one after they got married?"

In that case, she would be the settler and he would be the reacher.

Another principle of this whole concept is that the settler is seldom jealous of the reacher. Because they know/think that their spouse already has the BEST person they are going to be able to get, so what is there to be jealous of?

For years already, Jeremy has proclaimed that he married totally out of his league when he ended up with me. I think that is total bullsh**, always have.

But in his mind, he was the "reacher" and I was the "settler."

In my mind, we were on equal turf. I didn't feel like I reached or settled.

But as the years have gone by, I am pretty sure that I reached a lot further than I thought I was reaching. I may have even jumped a little. I'm.just.that.lucky.

So...if you want to have an interesting discussion with your spouse tonight...or if you want to stay up till mid-night arguing...ask him if he thinks he "reached" or "settled" when he married you?

On second thought, maybe if you haven't already discussed this in your marriage, it may be best to just let sleeping dogs lie.

Do you agree with this concept? Have you and your spouse ever discussed this?

Things to consider when you are thinking of recording a video of yourself talking:

#1 - Run through what you are going to say first, so you don't get to the end and think you have talked for 4 minutes and instead it is 14 freakin' minutes!!

#2 - Consider the fact that while you remembered to put something "blank" on the computer screen you were sitting in front of, the screen saver will come on after about 2 minutes and continuously flash pictures over your right shoulder for the rest of the interview.  Distracting??  Um, yeah!

#3 - WHY, oh why, does your hair look much longer on the one side than the other?  This is really perturbing, because for real, I have never noticed this about myself.

#4 - Inform your children that you are going to be doing the recording, instead of assuming that nothing will distract them from the TV.  Otherwise, your daughter may be yelling at you from the top of the steps to "GO TO THE VAN AND GET HER NAIL POLISH!"

#5 - Do not try to snort.laugh on purpose. You will look like a complete idiot!

 

And, HERE it is...for your viewing "pleasure."

Oh, my. Just the word “treat” makes me feel all giddy.

To me, it means something to be savored. Something that you don’t get to enjoy every day.

What would be a treat to me?

Well, I want to smile just coming up with this list...

A bubble bath after an exhausting day
Getting an hour of quiet (alone) time at some point during the day
Reading a great book...uninterrupted
Chatting on the phone with a good friend
New shoes...red, preferably
A clean house
Dangly earrings that make me feel all beautiful
Windows turned down and music turned up
Great blogs to catch up on

You get the drift.

But...since I am in the middle of a diet competition, mostly the word “treat” makes me think of food.

And somehow, the word also sounds a little bit like “Nah, nah, nah, nah, boo, boo” if I listen very closely.

“You can’t have that...” (in a sing-songy voice)

Because when your caloric intake is severely restricted, even cars start looking like cheeseburgers and trash cans look like lattes.

Do you want to know what I had to eat one day this week?

No?

Well, you know what? I’m telling you anyway.

Because if I have to live it, the least you can do is read about it.

I had:

Oatmeal with 2 tsp. brown sugar
30 veggie chips (yes, I counted them out. You got a problem with that?)
Light Yogurt
A fat free hot dog
1 ½ cups of strawberries
1 ½ cups of raw cauliflower
¾ cup of raw carrots
1/2 of a Roma tomatoe
2 kiwi
⅔ cup of rice
12 - 15 animal crackers

And that was it. Well, in the interest of complete and utter honestly, there was also a few crumbs that fell from the table of Nikki’s Little Debbie Zebra Cake and a morsel of taco meat and maybe 2 nacho chips. Oh, and about a teaspoon of cheese sauce.

The rest of the family was having Haystacks for supper. What’s a girl to do? That’s one of my favorite meals!

So yeah, you could maybe understand how the word “treat” would sound more like a taunt when it comes to food.

I have done this “strict dieting” thing more times than I can count in the last 8 years.

I go on a diet. I lose some weight.

I go off the diet. I eat everything in sight (well, not quite. I don’t want you to be afraid to bring your small children to my house.)

I gain the weight back.

I get frustrated.

I go on a diet again.

I lose weight.

Does anybody see a pattern here?

(Hand raised)

I still have not figured out how to be consistently healthy and wise in my food choices. It feels like I am either all in or all out.

Plus, I am blessed with a metabolism of a tree sloth and I can get away with NOTHING when it comes to food.

Nothing! I tell you.

I can just look at a creme filled donut and gain a ½ a pound.
I eat just like a lot of other people who don’t gain a thing, but I gain 2 lbs. in a week.
I have been known to put on 3 or 5 pounds in a long weekend.

Sometimes I want to call my Grandmother back from the grave and tell her exactly how I feel about those Brubaker genes I inherited. I would try to say it nicely, but I cannot promise there wouldn’t be some swearing involved.

So...in honor of my month long diet competition (which I am fiercely determined to win)...

Here are some treats that I am tormenting myself with on this fine day...

Creme filled donuts (since I mentioned them earlier and now they are on my mind)
Large quantities of “Moose Tracks” ice cream
A caramel mocha
Kettle cooked chips
Peanut butter M & M’s
Wedding cake with vanilla ice cream (And no, there does not need to be a wedding for me to have this. The local bakery sells cakes all year round, in case you didn’t know. Oh, you’re welcome!)
E-claire cake
Any dessert with cream cheese in it
A big, soft, chewy chocolate chip cookie
Grilled/smoked chicken breast (Ok, technically I could have this on my diet. This one is actually more about wanting to buy a pellet grill so I can make this chicken that I’ve only had once and cannot get out of my mind)
Spinich dip and tortilla chips
Oreos
A greasy cheeseburger, loaded up with lettuce and tomatoe and bbq sauce
French silk pie
Peanut butter pie
Peanut butter frosting
Peanut butter cups
Yeah, pretty much anything with peanut butter in it.

Anything from Dairy Queen...including, but not limited to...
A cookie dough blizzard
A banana split
A sundae with peanut butter and whipped cream
Dairy Queen cake
A Brownie Earthquake

Beef nachos
French fries (from McDonald’s)
Mint milk shake
Cheesy anything...

And if you think that I am done with that list of treats, you would be dead wrong.

But a girls gotta stop somewhere.

Or drive herself crazy with hunger pangs and longing.

So today, think of your favorite food or drink and treat yourself to it.

And raise your glass (or your burger or your donut) and make a toast to me.

While you’re making a toast, I’ll be eating it.

And you better believe it will be 100% whole wheat!

***The winner of yesterday's random book drawing is: Randy7777, who was the first commenter on my post yesterday. If you would please leave a comment letting me know which book you are interested in, I will get it right out to you.

***Also, I was going to post a "youtube" video interview of myself for my post today, so that anyone who may have not met me in real life could hear my voice and kind of see what I look like...in person. Kind of.

I did a "Day Journal" type of format for the self-recorded interview, inspired by baileyandme2 the other day, and till it was all said and done, I had rambled on for 14 minutes!! I thought it would maybe be 3 or 4. Proof once again that I am quite the long-winded person. My very words when I went over to the video camera and shut it off and looked at the time were "14 freakin' minutes!!???"

You will get to hear all about what I am thinking about, concerned about, puzzled about, what books I am reading, hear me try my "laugh snort" without anything to "laughsnort" about, and see why I am not a professional video taker by any stretch.

The reason I didn't post it today is because it is taking over 500 minutes to download on to Youtube.
I.kid.you.not!

That's about 8 hours. So...the "live interview" with me will have to wait until tomorrow.

Stay tuned...

I love to laugh. I most definitely do.

I laugh the most when I am with a group of girlfriends. Laughter is healing. It is good for the soul.

I laugh at things my kids say that are funny. I laugh at things that Jeremy says or does.

Like the other night, when we were talking about someone who is quite opinionated, and he said “She’s a glass of sass!”

I laughed and then I asked the question any curious wife would ask “Did you make that up yourself?”

And sure enough, he did. Such a proud moment!

But...I often DO NOT laugh or find things to be funny that a lot of other people think are hilarious.

Particularly when it is something I am watching or reading.

Take “America’s Funniest Home Videos”, for instance. The kids or Jeremy will laugh and laugh about people’s unfortunate incidents on that show. I might smile, but actually laugh out loud? Probably not. Mostly I just feel sorry for the poor dears and imagine how much that.must.have.hurt!

Or watching a comedian on TV...Jeremy will be almost literally howling with laughter and I might not even smile.

Maybe for me, I need to be with the actual person to find something funny. I don’t know...

And if I EVER laugh out loud at something that I read, that is a rare moment indeed. Its not that I don’t find things funny that I read, just not enough to make me laugh out loud. (Or LOL, to use the VERY over-used and somewhat annoying term that is everywhere these days)

I think what I tend to laugh about most is when something takes me by surprise. When I am not expecting something or someone to be funny and then they are. When I am taken off guard by humor, I will often laugh out loud. Sometimes, VERY loud.

Did I ever tell you the story of my most embarrassing moment?

The components of my most embarrassing moment ever were:

Me, 18 years old. A Hutterite colony. A group of Maranatha students. My new Hutterite friend. An off-color joke about Bill Clinton. Me laughing VERY loudly. The Hutterite Bishop. A speech about proper behavior in the dining hall. A request to share the joke with the group. Major Humiliation.

Ask me about it sometime when we are together.

Anyway, I have a propensity for laughing loudly at things that catch me by surprise. Sometimes I even snort. (Classy, I know. Don’t you wish you knew how to snort when you laugh? Its not something you just learn overnight. Years of practice, baby. And a stuffed up nose helps too!)

Oh, sorry. Back to the story.

Nikki and I made our weekly pilgrimage to Wal-Mart this past Friday. As we walked through the front doors, there was Carol, the Wal-Mart greeter, to help us get our cart.

Not that I am not capable of getting my own cart, but, hey, when you’re a worn out Mom, you’ll take all the free help you can get!

Not that I’m a worn out Mom. I’m just saying...if I WAS.

Nikki was in the “I’m-going-to-be-a-little-stinker” mode and didn’t want to get into her designated spot in the cart.

I was struggling with her and chatting with Carol. Now Carol is probably about 75 years old, she has 5 daughters and 16 grandchildren (mostly boys) and is married to Don. Carol worked at Wal-Mart back when I did (9 years ago) and has been there ever since.

Nikki had brought her little pink, stuffed bunny along into Wal-Mart and as I was trying to wrangle her into the seat in the cart, Carol was attempting to distract her by asking to see her bunny’s face. Of course, Nikki wasn’t into cooperating on any level, so she hid the bunny so that Carol couldn’t see its face.

I finally got Nikki situated and Carol and I chatted a little longer about various things...including the upcoming birth of her great grand-daughter, who is going to be named Audrey. As that is also Carol’s mother’s name. And my name. In case you wondered why Carol was bringing this up.

She also told me about her twin great-grand babies who are going to be born soon.

(I wonder how it feels to say “I’m am anticipating the birth of my great-grand child.” Like, how many generations is that anyway? And will I ever be that old?)

Before I headed towards the health and beauty section to begin my shopping, Carol tried once more to interact with my little stinker of a 3 year old daughter. She asked to see the bunny and when Nikki again refused and tucked the bunny firmly into her lap, face down, Carol did something that made me laugh and laugh.

In fact, the laugh was amazingly loud in the hollow early morning emptiness of the Wal-Mart store. I bet people way over in housewares heard me laugh. It was THAT funny!

When Nikki refused to show her the bunny, Carol looked straight at her and said “Well, you know what?”

And as Nikki looked at her expectantly, this 75 year old woman cupped her hands around the sides of her mouth to (partially) hide what she was about to do and then VERY deliberately struck her tongue out at my daughter.

I sit here and laugh out loud right now...just thinking about it.

It made my day!

I hope that when I am 75 years old and have great grandchildren on the way, I still have the spunkiness and youth within me to stick my tongue out at a little 3 year old stinker of a girl who totally deserves it!

And...its Friday again, my friends...
Time for the book give-a-way of the week. I will draw a random winner from everyone who comments on this post. If you comment on Facebook, I will add you to the list, following the commenters on Xanga. (If that makes sense. It does to me!) Also, if your number gets drawn and you have already won, I will choose a second random number. Just FYI.

The commenting will be left open until noon tomorrow, and the winner will receive the book of their choice from the list below, plus a little something extra.

And aren't Friday's just Fabulous??

BOOK LIST:

Inspirations for a Mother’s Soul (Mostly verses by category...New Living Translation)
Standing on the Promises - Susan Wales (Taken by a previous winner)
Too Much of a Good Thing - Dan Kindlon
7 Secrets of Successful Families - Jimmy Evans
A Hand to Guide Me - Denzel Washington
The Yada Yada Prayer Group - Neta Jackson
Even God Rested - Kim Thomas
The Heart of a Woman - Maya Angelou
Meditations on Proverbs for Couples - Les and Leslie Parrott
Esther...A Story of Courage - Trudy J. Morgan-Cole (Taken by a previous winner)
The Wedding - Nicholas Sparks
Putting Family First - William Doherty and Barbara Carlson
From Baghdad, With Love - Colonel Jay Kopelman
The Complete Household Organizer from Good Housekeeping (Taken by a previous winner)
Sharing His Secrets - Vickey Banks
Forgiving the Unforgivable - David Stoop
Dinner with a Perfect Stranger - David Gregory
Wake up Laughing - (Upbeat Devotions for the “Unconventional” Woman) - Rachel St. John-Gilbert
Hugs for those in Love - Ron and Lyn Rose
A Nickel’s Worth of Hope - Dr. Andre Vandenberg
Dancing through the Shadows - Theresa Tomlinson
Following Christ - Joseph Stowell
The Calling - Brother Andrew
John’s Story (The Last Eyewitness) Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins
What Happens When Women Pray - Evelyn Christenson
It’s All About Him - Denise Jackson
Story of a Soul - The Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux
The Thinking Chair - Audrey Brown
Soul Talk - Larry Crabb
Have a New Husband by Friday - Dr. Kevin Leman (Taken by a previous winner)
The Partner - John Grisham
Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks
The Letter - Richard Paul Evans
Only Love is Real - Brian Weiss
Cream and Bread - Janet Martin and Allen Todnem
Dear John - Nicholas Sparks
Broken on the Back Row - Sandi Patty
Living Faith - Jimmy Carter
The 5 Love Needs of Men and Women - Dr. Gary and Barbara Rosberg
Simplifying Your Life - Mac Hammond
Your Child Wonderfully Made - Larry Burkett and Rick Osborne
Applause of Heaven - Max Lucado
My Utmost for His Highest - Oswald Chambers daily devotional
Capture his Heart - Lysa Terkeurst
Letters to Karen - Charlie Shedd
Men, Women, and Relationships - John Gray
Official Rules of Card Games
The Memory Keeper’s Daughter - Kim Edwards
Tramp for the Lord - Corrie ten Boom
To Love and Be Loved - Sam Keen

I had the “privilege”, within the last few days, of driving my husband’s “work truck.”

Which is actually a car.  (Think better gas mileage! Jeremy figured up that in two years time, we saved $4,000 on gas by him driving a car to work instead of a truck. I love you, my dear. The sacrifices you are willing to make for the economic well-being of the family warm my little heart.)  But I think that the car THINKS it is a work truck.

After all, it gets treated as one.  The seat covers are covered with dirt and grease, the floor is filthy, and there are tools in the trunk.

This poor little car has been quite abused.  It is, in reality, a 2002 Sunfire but I bet when it is talking to its other car friends and they ask how old it REALLY feels, it says “Oh, at least double my real age.  I feel like I could be at least 18 by now. The way I’ve been treated.”  “What a shame”, they all mutter apologetically.

It has been lovingly dubbed the “lumber-ghini” by my husband.  It has driven through much mud and snow and slush.  It has been down many a logging road and over (and maybe even in) many a pot hole. The oil pan has been taken out at least once.

Our van was in the shop for a week or so, which left me the option of driving either the pick-up or the Sunfire.  I would much prefer the pick-up, that thing even has seat warmers, but Jeremy needed it haul the fuel trailer to the job today.

So...the car and I had to get re-acquainted.

 

Its not that I hate the car. Hate might be a strong word.  Despise, maybe.  Dislike, possibly. Attempt to get out of driving it all at costs. Yeah.

This very car is the one that made a complete fool out of my friend Kristy and I almost 3 years ago.  After I had stupidly and arrogantly made quite a statement to some girlfriends about how I had never, in all my years, run out of gas...this little silver devil ran out of gas on the very.next.day.  I still can picture in my minds eye...us stranded at that B-U-S-Y intersection, not 200 yards from the gas station.  Cars dodging and swerving around us.  Finally, a young man getting out to help push.  Me sitting in the driver’s seat to steer, watching in my rearview mirror as my friend Kristy and this young man were running down the road, pushing the car into the gas station.  And yeah, I was laughing hysterically. Sorry, Kristy. I owe you one!!

My biggest gripe with the car is that it is a stick shift.  I did not learn to drive a stick shift until I was in my early twenties and although I can get around, I am NOT a pro by any stretch of the imagination.  This leads to a lot of oh.crap! moments, especially when I have had a long break from driving a stick shift.

In this particular stint of driving the car, there was the:

 “oh.crap.I.am.totally.rolling.down.my.brother’s.drive.and.I.can’t.make.the.brake.work” scenario.  Saved by the emergency brake just in time. I still don’t know what I was doing wrong?

And then there was the:

“oh,I’m.driving.through.town.and.all.of.a.sudden.I.remember.I.am.driving.a.stick.and.I.need.to.slow.down.right.now.and.I.panic.and.can’t.remember.

which.is.the.clutch.and.which.is.the.brake” and I jam my foot down on Something. Anything. Must.slow.down.now.  What I jammed my foot down on happened to be the brake, not the clutch.  I got a little jolt but everything worked out OK.  (As they say sometimes in commercials..."no one was injured in the filming of this commercial"  Well, no one was injured in the telling of this story.)

Not to mention the:

"i.pulled.the.emergency.break.up.so.high.to.insure.that.the.car.did.not.roll.backwards.and.now.I.can't.get.it.back.down.again!"

or the:

"what.the.world.is.that.stupid.beeping.noise.that.won't.stop?"  Check the seatbelt, check the door, check the lights.  Oh, I don't have the emergency brake fully released.  Yup, I KNEW I dyed my hair blonde for a reason!

There are lots of lurching starts and grinding of gears.  There are the silent “Please let this light be green” prayers and the very un-finessed shifting.

This car also has a strange rumbling sound that takes over when you get to about 55 or 60 miles per hour. It kind of feels like maybe the whole floor board panel is going to fall out and you will find yourself looking down at the blacktop, which will be whizzing by at a very alarming rate of speed. Thankfully, this has not yet happened.  Wouldn’t want to imagine the possibility of losing a favorite pair of high heels somewhere along Highway 27.

I’m not trying to downplay the sexiness of this car.  I mean, seriously, I usually drive a mini van.  But when the “sexiness factor” is zero, its kind of hard to do much more downplaying.

Especially when you consider the dents in the front quarter panel and the quite noticeable gap between the place where the door SHOULD shut and where it actually does.  These are thanks to a deer accident that happened quite some time ago.  It only adds to the “work truck” attitude that this car has got going on.

When I found out I had to drive the car...and haul the three kids in it...I was less than thrilled.  My husband was quick to inform me that he had “cleaned out the back seat for the kids”.

No offense, honey, but I have to wonder what it looked like before you “cleaned it out??”

I’m just sayin’. 

(Disclaimer: My husband wants you to know that he is not normally this messy of a person. Other areas of his life are much more organized and neat. Sometimes he is even kind of anal about it. But capacity is the problem, he informed me. If he had a truck, the capacity would be much more fitted to the stuff he has to carry with him.)

This time around, there was also the “pop-filled-cupholders”, a little something extra in case you get thirsty along the way, I guess.  

When I inquired as to the cause of the pop sloshing around in there, Jeremy said that he had left a McDonald’s cup in the cupholder over the weekend and apparently the bottom of it gave way and the pop ran out.  I DID clean that up for him. I was so proud of myself!

And who isn’t SO happy to have that extra filter and wrench along?  Never know when you might need one of those.

Although it would help a LOT if I had any idea what to do with either one of them!  (Ok, I do sort of know what to do with a wrench. I'm not totally helpless!)

There is also a very cool CB all hooked up and ready for use.  I considered pretending that I was 16 again and talking to truckers on the CB.  Reminiscent of my trip to Missouri that I blogged about a while back. Who knows?  Maybe truckers these days have MUCH cooler CB handles than they did back in the day. How will I find this out unless I talk to them?

But then I realized that this time I REALLY am old enough to know better and plus, some of the truckers around here might know me.

Embarrassing, much?

When my van gets out of the shop, I will probably never have been happier to see it.

I may even give it a quick hug.

No offense, my silver nemesis, but I think that my husband had a lot more love to share with you than I do.

And sorry if I hurt your feelings.  I really didn’t meant to.