Jan 31stHang Time
Our friend Janet expressed the week perfectly with those two words. She knows way more about hang time than I do, but after sitting in the surgery waiting room for upwards of 12 hours waiting for news, then moving to the critical care waiting room where we've spent the greater part of the last two days, it seemed fitting.
Even in this short time, I can see that hang time is different for different families. While dad was still in surgery, one family's hang time was coming to an end as a young 28 year old man lost the battle with a microscopic bacteria called Pneumonia. At the same time, another family's hang Time has already stretched out for a month while they wait for any sign of improvement from a 24 year old daughter sent into the land of limbo by a stroke.
Dad's proceeding as expected through his recovery. Thanks to all our family and friends who made much of our experience of hang time more like a reunion than a hospital waiting room.
Jan 26thOn The Road Again
So, there's no reason at all for me to post a crummy phone picture of the St. Louis arch on a cloudy, gloomy day except that I can. On our way to visit with the folks before dad has his surgery. I seem to keep finding new and interesting ways to sleep without actually sleeping. Today's adventure included a woman describing a man at a casino table with firery, black eyes, and, more interesting to me, an interview with a woman from Mali who is seeking assylum in France so that she can protect her two year old daughter from the horrible practice of female genital mutilation. I think what I find most disturbing is that it's the women themselves who actually carry it out.
Nov 10thWhat’s in a Nickname?
On the occasion of my new nickname, generously provided by Mr. Jonathan Quinn, it seemed appropriate to discuss the one nickname that has yet to be discussed on this blog – namely Bullwinkl. Yes, this is after the famous moose of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame. If I tell you that this cartoon was one of my favorites, you’ll have a good handle on how old I am.
I had always thought that Bullwinkle was the nickname my dad picked out for me, but when I asked him about it recently he said, no – I was the one who insisted that he call me Bullwinkle. When I first started using the name again for my Internet presence several years ago, I mistakenly left off the “e”, and it stuck. I’m now forever and always “Bullwinkl – no e.”
Of course, mooses (or is it meese?) have minds of their own, and Bullwinkl has seen several transformations. First there was the original Bullwinkl icon.
Then, there was Mrs. Moose, and Mrs. Moose was on the loose.
This past summer Mrs. Moose crossed over to the dark side and became Mrs. Outlaw Moose – complete with black coat and hat, and six-shooter rubber band gun. Even my next door neighbor kid had a tough time figuring out who Mrs. Outlaw Moose really was. Fun fun fun. 
Now, I’m “the blog queen”, thanks to Jonathan. I think I like mooses better. Never did feel really comfortable in too much finery.
Now you know the story behind the longest lasting of all my nicknames and all the variations on the theme. Don’t you feel enlightened?
May 2ndQuote of the Day
The same came therefore to Philip, which was of Bethsaida of Galilee, and desired him, saying, “Sir, we would see Jesus.”–John 12:21
Toward anything like thorough scholarship I make no claim. I am not an authority on any man’s teaching; I have never tried to be. I take my help where I find it and set my heart to graze where the pastures are greenest. Only one stipulation do I make: my teacher must know God, as Carlyle said, “otherwise than by hearsay,” and Christ must be all in all to him. If a man have only correct doctrine to offer me I am sure to slip out at the first intermission to seek the company of someone who has seen for himself how lovely is the face of Him who is the Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley. Such a man can help me, and no one else can. A. W. Tozer
One of my favorite authors, ever since I first read The Pursuit of God has been A. W. Tozer. For several years, I have subscribed to a daily email devotional that has been compiled from his writings by Literature Ministries International. Every year when this quote comes around, I just want to shout Amen! The only reason I can possibly see to listen to someone else — especially in the church — is if they know God “otherwise than by hearsay.” Without that, preaching is nothing more than hot air, and possibly harmful hot air at that. I can forgive a preacher a lot of imperfections if he can help me see Christ more clearly. But no amount of suave or polish or correct doctrine can ever make up for the absence of a heart that burns from time spent with Christ.
Bonus: I was really pleased to hear from my dad, long after my grandpa died, that he, too, was a big fan of A. W. Tozer. Neat thing to have in common with him.
Dec 6thSuprize, suprize, suprize!
After dad and sis kept the secret for two weeks, I was able to surprise mom by flying in for her 70th birthday this year. And she was surprised!
So after spending the day doing a little baking . . .
(Mmmmm, doesn’t that bread look yummy!)we went up to the church for Bible Study . . .
Wait! Did you say Bible Study? It looks like they’re dancing with Santa! (They were!)
And then to the annual Salvation Army ritual that I remember so well . . . Counting money. They’re in full swing now with the Christmas kettles, and so the nightly ritual goes on. It is this ritual that provides a large portion of the Salvation Army’s operating budget for the coming year, so keep that change coming.
And finally a nice drive through Winter Wonderland!
Thanks for visiting!
Sep 19thWhen The Dog Wants To Play
All day long, Kasey has been hanging out with me while he waits for dad to get home, mostly just laying around kind of mopey, once in a while out in the yard to terrorize all UPS drivers, small children, and squirrels. So finally, the time arrives, and dad is home, and he’s a happy puppy again. Time to play! I’m trying to work, and the dog decides I’m the one he wants to play with. Just wonderful! So he starts chewing his toy right beside my leg to get me to throw it. Then he got the bright idea that he could put the toy right on my keyboard, and I would have to stop typing and throw the toy. I wonder if anyone has ever told him he’s too smart for his own good?
Moral of the story: Never underestimate the wiley ways of a dog who is ready to have a little fun after a long, lonely day.