Saturday, April 30, 2005

Happy May Day Everyone!

I found the entry (below) of some interest and copied it from this link: QUERY HERE!

May Day: Quasi-Pagan holiday, right? May poles, boinking in the fields, that sort of thing? Who knows about this?

Well, I know that in Appalachia (i have folk there) they still preserve two terms which relate to May Day. "The fool of the May" is kind of like an anti-king who might rule over a party... usually this is reserved for any loudmouth at an event who is getting out of hand, but I seem to recall this being an actual folk-traditional character in Pre-Christian Europe... Also, there was the "Queen of the May" or "May Queen" which my mom frequently uses to either mean--"isn't she just as pretty as the Queen of the May" or "well, doesn't she think she's the May Queen." So it has a positive and a negative. Certainly both of these instances hint at a possible Pagan connection. I would assume that it isn't altogether Neo-Pagan because my folk are otherwise conservative rural folk who don't truck with such nonsense... at least that's how they would put it. My only other assumption would be that it must carry over from some older definition... Like I said, I have heard this and that, but I haven't any concrete stuff. I'll do some research... but this is what I know off the top of my head
. --trimalchio

Thursday, April 28, 2005

RANDOM, what's your word?

Howdy my peoples! Try out a little Randomness .... go HERE for directions.... see how far this swims??? Thats my word BTW.... "swims"

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

B-b-b-i-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r

1:00 pm 26th April and I just had to turn my furnace back on! Damn you Kinder Morgan! <-(fuel co. for the heat in this place)

I've tomatoes I wanna git in the dirt... strawberry plants... herbs, like chives, oragano, sweet basil, dill.... I got flowers for heaven's sake! :) better bring the little darlings in or wrap 'em up in a blanky if this cold snap continues! (check out that LINK back there for a good gardening plan!)

Word has it that the Earthquake / Tsunami tilted the earth's axis oh, so slightly, this is not the climate change I was hoping for. All in all I need to stop my little rant here and remember the fact that we only got, maybe, 2-3 scant snows all winter season long... the plains are hard up for moisture. .. . if I was out mowing I'd love it this cool... it'll be just the thing for my p.m. walk down at Barnett park... Peas. I can just shut up now and go plant some peas. Everyone knows they LOVE the cool weather! And that's how I do that... it's a count your blessings thing! Cheerios2U!

Monday, April 25, 2005

Mowing in the Meadow

Would have been nice to have got something else done this weekend other than mowing the friggin' lawn... but if I had to get ONE thing done - that was it, people!

It had been 3, count 'em, 3 - weeks since it had first started looking like it was needing a cut. . . and the prairie'd had 2 or 3 storms thunder through since then! YIKES! This stuff grows quick when it's being watered regular like that.

Problem? NO lawn mower... and this is stupid, but I had one in Arizona, of a places, for a postage stamp size of a yard. Unfortunately I let it go at a rummage sale, when I was paring down on possessions to move back to this native soil of mine.... I think I sold it - hell, maybe somebody stole it? I get those 2 confused all the time, as I've had quite a few treasure just do the "disappear act" on me... Dang I'm digressing... Now here I am moved in to Grandma's old place (13 acres! Thank God I don't have to mow all 13 acres!) and me with no mower... being a "renter" all these years, my landlords either took care of the yardwork or lent me their mowers. Sooo I start forming a plan. A- call "Aunt Pill" ask her... she's just up the road. That came up short as she said hers was in the shop... and I got to thinking, that hers was a rider and I'd rather get the extra exercise and push mow if I can.... (of course if I was looking at all 13 acres I'd change my mind in a Hot minute... doncha know it?) Plan B - call "Uncle D" Love this guy... he's a connoisseur / collector of handy / junky stuff like lawn mowers... NO luck there... (sorry I got a load of them but they all need to be taken to the iron salvage - not a one of them is a working model) Best part of the conversation was the part were I got to tell him about the guy on Coast to Coast radio who had a theory that George W. Bush is really a LIZARD! (I didn't personally hear that broadcast - The Queen of Panic told me about it.) Heheheeee.... "Uncle D" is a die-hard Bush fan, to the point where he'll get down right "fluffy" with anyone talking other wise. It was worth the call just to rattle him up a bit even if I didn't get my hearts desire there. Plan C - call Rock. "Sure Dorko. I've got 2 mowers. One of them's an electric, you can have that one if you want."
An Electric!??? This is too rich. That's what Grandma had back in the day when Mother used to drag us all out here for tag team mowing... we kids hated it. Now it looked like a good source for reminiscing with my brother as he got me "plugged in" Saturday morning. Thankfully we have an over abundance of HD extension cords in my family! So he sets me up carefully explaining the "On" switch, and the clippings catcher, and reminding me that it's not good to mow over the electrical cord. (said he did one time and got a nice shock for his effort! Love it when the big guy shares stories on himself like that! LOL)

So I get started in the shade and it's cool enough to warrant a sweater out there and it's tall enough that I know I've got the entire day ahead of me with push forward a few inches, let 'er munch it down, push forward... munch down... , whip cord out of the way, etc... wasn't long and I was stripping out of the stupid sweater! My heaven I got filthy out there... You know when you run outta grass and you're on to rough terrain getting into the weeds - out by the highway and then the mower alternately begins to high center and dig in? Like it's got a part time job roto-tilling now? Crap. I think I'm still tasting grit in between my teeth. (& I'm perty faithful with my flossing folks) Worked hard all the day and only got 97% of the front done... Did get to see some of my veggies are starting to sprout, though and found a great big stash of catnip for Dr. Suess... (my cat) who was smart enough not to be "out-there" stalking big game in the tall grass at the same time I was trying to knock it down with the mower. I'll have to clip some of that catnip for my furry little friend... and the day was cool and delightfully breezy. And I had plenty of time to ponder life as we all know it to be while I was going about my business. I'm telling you all (still!), I'm a blessed child! Didn't think I could guzzle enough water once I switched off the mower that evening. I was down right parched and a bit rubbery. I slept better that night than I had all week long. [beams brightly at her monitor]

DayII - got a little more problem-matic as I figured out the difficulty with the car port light went deeper - to the outlets - 1 of which goes to the septic sump pump. (See? Blessed,- figured out that bad, bad deal before I discovered nasty stuff backing up into the basement & screwing up my stuff down there!) anyways... the "meadow grasses" were twice as long in the "back 40" as they were in the front... I'll be darned if that mower didn't just begin making fancy "crop circles" rather than munch the stuff down... and whenever it did finally bite some off to chew - why then I'd have to empty the clippings hopper once for every 2 passes over the length of the yard. Chit. Slow going does not even begin to describe my torture! Yet I felt like I had the best possible ambience while I was "out there" wrestling with this monster mow job.... the day was overcast = easy on the eyes & it also pops the color out so things are a bit more enjoyable just to look at and even though it was threatening rain again - it held off until I was completely done... then there was that cool breeze - not windy mind you, just a constant cooling breeze that you couldn't even pray for if you wanted to because it was just that darned perfect as a refresher for the job at hand... I'd have had to make it 3 days maybe if I had been struggling in 80 to 90 degree heat! Then as I trimmed in, up by the house I got the smell of sweet spearmint all over me and the mower! I'd forgotten Grandma had planted that all around the house at one time... (Hint for you country folks, mice don't like mint. Makes a good buffer planting around your homes and out buildings). So my favorite tennis shoes are now a lovely grass-green color and I felt beat up by the 1st mow job of the season - I can rest easy that it won't get that bad again (I won't let it!!!!). Now I'm wondering if I can make up some tea outta that spearmint out there? hummm... Hope you all had a better weekend than this! Love and Love some more and Cheerios2U!

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Happy Dogger!


Happy Dogger

Just playing around....
Chasing my tail...
Trying to figure out how to post a picture...
I've gotten this far...
Give me your mail... (or not! ) Happy week's end!!!

BTW - I've been playing around in some of your archives!
I found this over on Sometimes I do... & Opie's right it is just too cool!
Check it out: HERE & draw your own conclusions! Hehehehee (fun!)

Friday, April 22, 2005

Happy Earth Day - Happy Friday

It's Friday, it's Friday - woo, woo, woo!

I have been given this day to use as I will. I can waste it or use it for good. what I do today is important becase I'm exchanging a day of my life for it.
~ Author Unknown
Posting in Tribute to Earth Day... have a good one everybody!

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

It's a Blogger party!

I found a great blog party. A real free for all! Just follow the signs; THIS LINK!!!

I'm getting the "Sweet Butt Rub" [Yes! that would be of JB's Fat Boy Haugwaush Barbecue Sauce & BBQ specialties fame!] on the camel now... thanks for the recipe "OP"! lol.

Should be pleanty of good eats and special treats for everyone to enjoy.

Cya THERE!

Vague reference lines?

It's all about the reference lines on this link I stumbled across it a few days back, too funny, people!
No matter what your political leanings I thought you'd get a chuckle. BTW the spirit of "chicken little" reared it's ugly little head and prevented ME from actually opening any of the correspondences...
let me know if your computers blow up - Me and the little chicken will immediately disavow any responsibility!

Oh! And a question for you!
If you got "vanity" plates what would they say?
Only rule here is it cannot be more than 7 letters, numbers or characters long.
My first choice? -> AXN28D+ ;
My second choice? -> IRONROD;
My third choice? -> DORKO, of course... let everyone on the highway know what they're dealing with!
Heheheee!

Cheerios2U all!

Monday, April 18, 2005

Grandma's Blushing

I just mixed this up this morning.
A man named Bob Ray died.
They asked me to fix a dessert for the funeral diner they'd have for his family.
I took this Blushing Betty & some Banana Bars.
I forgot how super E-Z this was to fix and with summer coming on some of you might need a good rhubarb recipe:

Grandma's Blushing Betty

9x13 pan:
4 C rhubarb
2 & 2/3 C sugar
1 C raisins
4 T shortening
2 eggs
2 C flour
3 t. baking powder
½ t. salt
2/3 C milk
1 t. vanilla

Wash rhubarb (do not peel) & cut into pieces and mix with 2 cups of sugar.
Place in a greased baking dish.
Add the raisins.

Meanwhile cream together the shortening with the remaining amounts of sugar and eggs.
Sift the flour, baking powder and salt together – add alternately with milk to the creamed sugar and eggs mixture.
Add vanilla.

Spread the batter over the fruit and bake for 1 hour in a 350º oven.

Serve with a whip cream topping or homemade vanilla ice cream.
Bob Ray was a pit-bull-drill-sargent, tough-old-bird kind of a man, but on the inside, I got the feeling he was much more of a tender-little-lotus-blossum, =) and I told him so, too!
(sweet and sour, just like this recipe)
He liked to greet folks by saying, "I heard what YOU did, last week."
(I like that kind of honery)
Rest in Peace, Bob Ray.
You served here, long and well.

RU talking ta me?

I Found this Language Quiz over on BOBO Blogger's log : What kind of American English do you speak? I thought it was perty guud alright! {smiles!}

One other thing. I woke up to this story on NPR today. When I was little I thought it would be grand to have this ability to match color to music and emotion. Now I find out, although rare, there are people who can do this.
Awesome!

Saturday, April 16, 2005

A Dorie Story

Story Time!
This is a lengthy post.
This took a really long time to write.
I'm hoping it flows well with you when you read it.
I could have just said,"Um, one time, when I was out in the woods..."
But I LIKE the idea of developing the story (A TRUE STORY) BTW.
It's either dish this or go hand wash what's sitting in the kitchen sink.... :D



(WARNING: Check your V-chips. Dorko is about to use "Nudity, Adult language, Sexually Charged Content", none of which is gratuitous, it is just the way the story goes people)


All this talk of dreams lately...
Especially the mention of "lucid dreaming" -

Reminds me of the summer I was a roommate, in Flagstaff, with Hal & Jon - & Mike came to visit. Mike ended up staying, like the better part of the entire summer, which began to entirely wear on the roomies. But he was Hal's bud & it was Hal's place so we made light of it... snicker... OFTEN... snicker... (because there were plenty of quirks with him and the rest of us, like booger collection contests and fart lighting demonstrations, to pundant over), which is one of the best ways to blow off steam. Or, that's what they all tried to tell me anyway! {BEAMS!}

We really did have fun, it was a, safe, hip, happenin' and happy household to be in . . . great learning environment (I'd always heard, but had never actually seen someone light their farts before and what's better yet is I'd walked in on them doin' it, by sheer accident & surprise! YES!)

These boyz had all the toys! A computer they were always suping up, a kickin' audio surround sound system, CD's, players and a DISHWASHER, praise God, I'll always Love YOU, Hal, for not poking fun at me when I asked you how to operate it. (Thank-you Hal!)

Mike was actively seeking ways to earn money without having to "punch a time clock". He had a business card that basicly said he was a Horoscope consultant. He was full of stories where he'd helped poor folks get better accident insurance settlements from their insurance agents because he'd ran all the data past the star charts, & how he couldn't or wouldn't buy a car or marry someone with out first knowing if it was a favorable time and day according to the "Heavens" and they were the right sign. (He liked to make fun of Saturn cars.)

Take the moon for instance. He claimed that if you select a wedding date that was during a waxing moon, you stood a better chance of your marriage building and getting fuller over time than if you picked a time where the moon was waning, which would influence a decline of the marital relationship. (I kept thinking that we could just buy a Farmer's Almanac...)

He spent alot of time at the Library because he was trying to tie his "star-system" & all this information into becoming a killer stock and commodities trader on the mercantile or the NYSE <-(NewYorkStockExchange. Yes, Indeedy.......) OK- all this time has gone by and I'm still looking dubiously at the thought I just typed. Hehehe. He had with him all sorts of soft ware for Hal's computer that would form your star charts for you if you would just plug in birth statistics like: date, time, longitude, & latitude. The program would run these down and regurgitate (I think they used the word "map") your "natal chart" which they explained to the Dorko, was a record of the exact positioning of the planets, at the moment one is born into this world and therefore, what effects all aspects of your doings while you are wandering around on planet earth. I thought of natal charts, there after, as a star-print, kinda like the little feet and hand prints the hospital takes of the new born babies. I found out I had a Sagitarius Rising, I forget what they said about my "midheaven"... I don't know if I still have that "natal chart" they did for me or not....? Anyways.... I thought it was all a lot of Hooey, however, I'll admit it was interesting to the point of entertainment - especially the way these full grown men would see a hot girl that summer, strike up a conversation for the sole purpose of digging out her birthplace, day and time (if possible) & then scurry back to home base to run the info. THEN they'd spend a bunch of time comparing Hotties' natal to their own natal's to see if they had a shot with hottie or not. (Rolls eyes) - If so, they might go back and flirt some more, if not, they just wouldn't bother. (Of course it almost always ended up as a Zero for them because by the time they got back to Hottie, she'd be hooked up with someone going off of, oh, the Pheramone, the Neanderthal or maybe the Wild Monkey system of sexual attraction) I remarked, at some point, that I thought it was all pretty much a scream and that I thought this could make for a pretty good SNL skit. But, you know..., they were so into their little game that summer that they did not care and ultimately, when in Rome... well.... I began to play a little too! :D As I remember it, there was a lot of interviewing & charting & not much dating action going on that summer! Although... Hal did pay a few more visits to his "special, beneficial" girlfriend & I had an interesting interlude with a biker called "Ram" (yes. He was an Aries. But no, I thought he was more loser than firery beast. Not alot of "Ram" upstairs if you know what I mean.) and, alas, I had ONE, mind you, ONE, in house sleep-over, with a very cute mining explosives expert, that I'd drug home with me one night; whose hobbies & interests were diversified enough to include Billiards, Megadeath soundtracks and personal activities in Rodeo bull riding.

Shortly there after, I came to recognize my roommates as true gentlemen. I remain thankful to this day, that they did not to razzz me about Mr. TNT, or the racket we had to have made behind closed doors together. Bucking right out of a futon, practically flipping it over in the process, in the middle of our little slumberparty escapades had to have woke somebody up. The one fleeting sexual highlight of my summer and I was almost too embarrassed to relish it. Only after I drove this Bed-bustin' He-man back to where I found him, never to see the daring young man again, did I run HIS natal chart with mine. ("Why, of course I know what time of day I was born, Sweetie," he'd said to me, "I know everything about the way I came into this world.") ...and... it didn't help my hangover much to find HIS to be the one chart saying 'perfect match' for me. Hal went so far as to let out a low whistle when he saw it. . . said there was "Tri-ning" going on all over the map between our 2 natal charts and that it was one of the best matches he'd ever seen. Damn and double damn. Here I'd just made a slut outta the poor man and sent him on his way. *sighs*

Hal's buddy, Mike, was also way into the concept of Lucid Dreaming he was advidly reading up on it and since he was sleeping on the hide-a-bed, smack in the middle of the living room. He felt obligated to explain the $900.00 state of the art sleep mask he plugged into the electric outlet each night before placing his pencil and his dream journal, just so, within arm's reach, and pulling that dang mask thingie over his eyes for beddy bye time.
I'm glad he explained it all. (I remember having a few dreams, at the time, that 900 bucks would have actually made come true!)

Anyways.... It was a little disconcerting, to wake-up in the morning, go down stairs & over the handrail, see him laying there with this black mask over his face, twiching, on the pull out- then he'd sit bolt upright, whip the mask off & franticly scribble into his dream journal. You couldn't say "Good Morning!" to him, until he was done getting "it all down". *sheesh!* If one didn't know what was going on, you'd walk around the house with your eyebrows raised up, all the live long day!

(Rock was no help at this time. His long-distance question to me was, "Dorko, how come everytime I call you up, I feel like I'm calling into an MTV episode of THE REAL WORLD?" - smartalecky little brother.)

The $900.00 electrified sleep mask was specially designed to "sense" when you started REM, which means you've gone into a dreamstate and the mask had a little light over each eyelid that would then begin to flash. This was suppose to signal your subconscious to become conscious and "lucid" in the dream so you could take control of your dream. He explained that the advantage would be problem solving for a job situation, maybe or working out whether or not you could make it to the top of the mountain you were trying to climb (these guys were all into the rock climber, adrenaline junky lifestyle... the type of people who liked to think that they could snap a carrot with their butt cheeks....)

As the summer wore on I realized that Mike just wanted to have some sort of sex with someone, even if dreamland was like, his last hope.

I decided this after the morning that he was damn near inconsolable because he had just dreamed that he'd been with the most beautiful, naked woman he'd ever seen and she had dived into a pool (hummm. He didn't say if she'd had a name, could it have been Alekx? I wonder. Alekx? You reading this? You ever go diving, neckked, in front of a guy named Mike and make his little pool lights go flash, flash? What's that you say? In his WET DREAMS? Yep. Thought so!) well, ... he said he had noticed that the pool lights were going FLASH!, FLASH! - but he'd only now, AFTER waking up, realized that that had been his "que" to become "lucid".

I could feel his distress so I DIDN'T say, "Lucid. Right. Not to be confused with flacid." That would have been cruel, and everyone of them had been so kind to me and my Buck-A-Roo, I just couldn't be sassy to him, not right away... ... ... anyways ... ... ... ...

Read on, there's a climax here, somewhere !

(Lord, I'd like to apologize for the stuntz I've pulled ...)

He drove one of those little 2 seater cars... I can't remember what one??? like a corvette (but that's not it), or a Z (but that's not it), or a Spider (but that's not it), or an mp3??? an MX2??? somethun like 'at. He also had a bunch of expensive camera equipement. He decided one night he wanted to go out into the forrest, find a good spot to set up his various cameras on tri-pods and try to photograph the stars in the nighttime sky. Which we all have to admit people is a much better plan than trying to do so during the daylight hours.

I was a little surprised when he asked me, "Would you like to come along?"
Dorko, me, says, "OK."

So we drive and drive. I'm thinking, oh. oh. I don't know this guy all that well... what if he tries to pull something weird on me out here in the Ponderosas? ...by the time this thought occurs we're OUT there, we're climbing dirt logging trails up the sides of the San Fransicos' in his tiny sportster car... and he finally stops and he gets out and I decide I'll just follow him and deal with whatever happens as it happens. (The opportunistic, moment by wary moment plan.) So we beging tramping off into the Pines, carrying all this camera stuff and soon enough he finds a spot he seems satisfied with and he sets up his gear, chatting along, about what he's doing and why and how cool this kind of thing is and how way cool HE is and all. SO! He gets all the cameras ready, explains it's gonna take quite sometime before the pictures take, because starlight is so dim the exposer needs to be as long as possible bla, bla, bla, bla,. .. . ..

We commence star gazing together, looking for the dippers etc... when I spy, with my little eye, an aeroplane up there.

Honest to Pete! I could not, - NOT pass this up! So, I step up REALLY close to him. I try to let my voice go all, sexy-lo, I mean, I move in super close to his ear and say, "Michael. Do you see the aeroplane up there?"

Now, I'm not touching him, but I am so close to him, I can feel the heat from his body and I know that he can feel mine. I can also feel his apprehension, his immediate nervousness at having someone move so quickly and so closely into his personal space. The way we are standing, he cannot see me, yet I know, through intimacy and the intuition of the natural sense, that I have his full attention and he is at once alert and a bit off balance - just where I want him to be.
"Where?" he says.
I stay close and raise my arm up, index finger out, guiding his sight line, (same way you train a huntin' dog to see the retrieval you need him to get...) "See? Right... there.... See it?"
"Yes. I see it." He says- all open and innocent.
Damn. Open and innocent. I gotta talk myself into staying the course here... So, I,m telling myself, keep going, hang in there, slow and easy...and ...
... and I whisper to him, "Michael, are you... ready for a mind-fuck? I mean... to say, are YOU... ready for a really good... MIND-FUCK!? I'm making especially sure that I am tasting that word, "fuck" as it rolls over my lips, my teeth and my tounge... so that he, listening, can practically taste it too, and we stand there for a moment looking up at the aeroplane gliding across the forefront of that marvel, the milky way... and I'm taking a moment, letting what I've just suggested sink into him and He is silent and so am I and then...
"Do you see the flashing lights on it's wings?" I asked, with just a hint of sing-song in my best sexy voice.
"Yes," he says.
Was that a bit of 'anxious' or 'perturbed', that I just heard in his voice? Hummm....
"Then how do you know," I asked, "that you're not dreaming, ...right now?"
And I immediately stepped back. . . . to see what he'd do.
I didn't exactly know what he would do. But I did figure that I did not want to be with-in arm's reach, whenever, whatever, was going to happen ...happened.
And for a few moments, nothing happened.
He just stood there. (or was it more like he was just "hanging" there, suspended?) *smirk*
THEN!
All of a sudden (!) ...
He looks down and jerks his hands up, to his face and by the way he's moving his head back and forth & flipping his hands from palm up, to back up, to palm up, again, I could tell he's really looking for something in his hands! Now I'm wondering, WTHell? Then he looks back up, (at the aeroplane) and then he looks at me and THEN he says, a little shakily, I might add, "I'm not dreaming."
"How can you tell?" I persist, mostly because I'm all into my little ruse now.
"Because," He says, "if I WERE dreaming I wouldn't be able to identify detail, like my fingers or the fingerprint feeling on my hands."
"OH! Right. ...Alright." I said, hoping it was dark enough that he couldn't see the twinkles in my eyes nor the cheshire-cat smile spreading out upon my face.
If he DID have thoughts of putting any "moves" on me that night, I'd appearantly "fixed" him.
He acted pissed off at me for the rest of his stay - {Belly laughing- chuckle}
Oh, which was OK!
....as the summer - was quickly drawing itself out & away.
Just like the little, aeroplane, still flying high and flashing merrily along its way into the starry night.
The End.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

The gift

Ok.
Thought I better follow through with my musings. I don't want to trifle, when they involve the Savior. I fear him. Meaning, I love him so much... that's the one relationship above all other's I couldn't stand to wantingly betray - ever. Especially now that we've gotten to know each other so well! Be that as it may, when we look back over the Dorko's life as we know it so far: I'm a dirty-little-double- crossing-lying-begger-chicken poo and THEN some. The list could go on and on here people. How he could care for one such as I -boggles the brain... well.... [LOCK ME UP! I just had a screen come to mind--> Wayne & Garth, bowing down, chanting "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!" Smiles! Of course anyone YOU love, as much as the Savior loves us, IS worthy when you think about it... Beauty-A?]

WTHeck? Am I talking about?

Well, I was over on the Blind Idiot God Blog and I happened to comment that I'd had a face to face conversation with Jesus once. (So. I'm one of "those" people who will testify to infinity and beyond, that He is who He is - the Living Christ. Alot of people out there will think I'm full of Hooey. And that's OK. Beauty is YOU get free will to choose for YOURself. Choice by choice, day by day we go merrily, [or not], along life's pathway. It's just that I'm over yonder now, beyond belief... [did one of you just "snicker"?] ...Yes? Well, I'm way into the realm of I KNOW IT and so, knowing, I cannot now, disavow it. As such, Ive added my voice to Joshua's of old in saying, ..."as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.")

I'm digressing! crap. I don't want to make a big deal out of this! I simply want to post the incident like I said I might do and get on with my chores.

It was a long time ago, now.... I was on the fading end of childhood innocence, hurdling dumbfoundly into my teens. I was not a 'happy camper'. My family was in turmoil. My parents were on the last legs of a passionate marriage. (it was not all moonlight and roses for them - I gained a certain amount of understanding, from them, on why we should learn "to bridle our passions" When they loved they loved and when they faught -) Anyways, chalk a few things up to the blind faith of a child, I'd always been told and beleived and knew there was a God and that everything was pretty cool wherever he was so... I begin thinking I'd rather be THERE than here. [Heaven, people, don't we all wanna go to heaven?] But how to get there? My one attempt to leave home thus far was a dismal failure. I'd made it to the back of the house, perched there on the cement step with my little suit case. It was packed with white tube soxs. (Shut up! giggle.) I just began to feel quite strongly that, I did not want to be here any more. I wanted to go home to God. So ...I'm kinda on a lookout for a way, couldn't it just be like on Star Trek? When Captin Kirk is ready to go he just signals Scotty to beam him up -right?
Then I see an old movie (actually it wasn't that old at the time...) that has a sceen in it where this Indian gets tired of being here (just like me!) and so he lays down and basically asks to go. Hey! I thought, "That's for me! I'll just do that!" [Do NOT ever tell me that TV & MOVIES, & MEDIAS don't influence children people!] So later that night, after the "Now I lay me down to sleep" stuff and kisses all around, I start up.... asking God to take me home, begging and pleading my little heart out. . . repeatedly. Next thing I know I'm transported. Spiritually? Physically? I know not. Let's say, Consciously, that feels more right here than anything else. . . and there's Jesus. I was a little surprised, because I was asking for God, you know, and then here's Jesus. (Years later I realize, well, He is the advocate with the Father and He is on record saying "...I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me." so I guess He meant evverrybody)
He spoke first. He said, "I cannot take you with me now. It is not your time to go."
I remember his eyes were very kind and had "that" amused parental light in them.
Think about a child asking their parent for something they're not quite ready for and the parent, knowing the child so well, has prepared just the right thing that will delight, satisfy and ultimately prepare the child, to receive their heart's desire when they are ready for it. He was looking at me like that. And that's when I noticed the table. There was a table there. It had a simple white table cloth on it and it was packed with beautiful, exquisitly wrapped gifts! I don't have the language skills to describe for you how radiant and awesome they were! But...remember?...When you were a kid and you went to somebody else's birthday party or to a wedding, maybe? And you saw all the presents laid out waiting to be opened? Didn't you kinda wish some of those could be yours? And in the early years you whine and beg and plead for them, but the cruel world teaches you that not every gift is for YOU!? (I'll admit to it. I was a greedy little pig. I ALWAYS coveted the gifts on the gift tables. Always. But I've grown, people and... I'm digressing agian!) (sorry!) Soooooo... as soon as I notice the table those piggy little feelings come right up - but I'm a teensy bit retracted because I've already been taught it's not always all about me...
and the Savior asks, "Do you see the table?"
and I'm like, "Uh-huh."
and he says, "Those gifts are yours."
He had my attention.
He went on, "You will open each of these gifts when it is time and you will share your gifts with others."
Me, "Ok."

That was it.
That was all I needed to know.
(interview over)

I don't run around telling people about it much.
It's come up a couple times when I felt prompted to bare testimony to someone.
It's too sacred of an experience for me to share with just anyone, now here I am hanging it out here on my blog!!! (Sheepishly rolls eyes heavenward)
Well, maybe the experience itself was one among those gifts, to be opened in due time and shared with others.
Even though it happened to me I don't think it's "unique" to me by any means.
I think we've all been given gifts. Some of them might be just for us and some of them we oughtta willingly share with other people. [Beams brightly at her monitor!]

I admit I'm a Dorko.
I've screwed up plenty (and still do!) but I'm being truthful & sincere with you here.
Please don't judge me harshly, rather think upon these things... with your own sincerity of heart, having faith, and the Lord will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost you may know the truth of all things.

Ah! That Holy Ghost! THAT'S the gift that keeps on giving! *sighs lovingly*

Monday, April 11, 2005

This I believe

I believe, dear ones, that we've officially been baptized into sever weather season as of last night. ...U Betcha! ...And what a rootin' tootin' wild and wind swept evening it was, too!

Skys fade to a foreboding, dank and darkening blue. The smallest of clouding white fluffs, light out before it, seeking shelter or escape from the gusty winds, lightening and his old dog, thunder. He is the one who makes my granddogger shake and whimper, whine and moan and try to hide her head under the chair. Alas, those innocent white clouds, running, quickly enough, perhaps, accross the breadth of this Prarire land - but they can not hide. They never think of that.
Lickety split, the storm was upon us, waving and shooting her quick silver bullets into the highway's pavement, into the ditches and the farmer's fields and into my newly tilled garden spot.
This first wave is short and sweetening to the delight of the starlings who are sporting in the raw earth of the freshly broken sod. Birds of prey, taking no prisoners amongst the night crawler crowds, dancing in the dirt and rain.
CRACK! Lightening whips and snakes from heaven to hell and all is dark and all is still for the next 5 beats of my heart. Then the blessings of that marvelous power, harnessed, is restored and electricity is once again obedient and comforting and welcomed back home again.

Oh. Truckit. So much for romancing the storm... it got much much worse. Luckily I was north and west of the many tornados and so got to ride it out above ground - this time. I'm going to like having a basement just in case. I imagine me and the dogger will be spending most of our summer nights hole up downstairs.

I have noticed many of you people out here in the wastelands of Bloggerville have a talent for writing. NPR is begining a new series and they are looking for YOU! NPR is calling it: This I belive. If you have an opinion, and I KNOW that you ALL do, and you compose an essay for them you just might end up on the radio. Cool Beans?

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Jok-e-oke

Heard about a new form of Kareoke on NPR this morning: Jok-e-oke!
Appearently started in the living rooms of folks with home Kareoke machines. They'd have a comedy channel on TV, envoke the close captioning option, on the set, so that the jokes would be writen on screen too... turn off the sound and well, let anyone at the party take a wack at it!

An idea for YOUR next party%TE^? <-(Cat is "helping" me type) Here's my current favorite "dirty" joke to get you started:
"Why did the chicken cross the road, roll around on the ground and then cross back over to the other side agian?"
"Because, he was not only a chicken, but he was a dirty, little double-crosser, too!"
Ha-ha! - Cheerios!
Oh! I almost forgot...!?
They had this interesting story about the Shins on the radio too. If you click on the link to either of these stories you can just stream the audio. Me thinks I'm digging the Shins sounds. :D
Tell me what you think....
Warm fuzzies to all!

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

The Daffodil

The Daffodil is a poem by Elaine Christensen.

I like it.

My mind runs barefooted, towards the meadow I've planted it in, every Easter Sunday now, since I first discovered it....

.... and since I couldn't get on line to post anything at that time - I'm wishing everyone a Happy Easter going forward into your springtime and I'm posting it now, for yall to consider.

The Daffodil
-- by Elaine Christensen

It is the quiet
the suffocating quiet
that is so hard.

I know the death you fear,
the blackness
the narrow bed
the waiting for spring.

It is a long time to have faith
for you who buried me
and for me
with no voice
to make sure I am remembered.

Will you fall to your knees
in April grass
when you hear the sound
of my yellow trumpet?


(It's good to be back! I've missed you all! Hugs and Kisses! -D.)

1 Corinthians 12:31

... covet earnestly the best gifts: and yet shew I unto you a more excellent way.