I have the flu. I feel very bad. That's about all I have to say and about all I've done since Friday. Hope you're feeling well. Talk to you tomorrow.
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So I have a cold. It's amazing how something minor like that can completely take your energy and initiative. I just want to curl up, drink hot tea, and sleep. Still, it was a fairly good day. I worked until noon and then met Adam at a local Mexican restaurant and discussed a business opportunity. Then I came home, did some laundry, and napped.
This evening, I watched a couple of shows I had recorded on the DVR. Hey, for those of you who watch it, what's up the lighting in Smallville? Apparently no one pays their electric bills. I guess it's meant to convey a sense of realism or perhaps eeriness. Or maybe their sets look shabby, and they think if they keep it dark, we won't notice. Whatever their reasons, it's simply annoying.
I should have taken a few photos of all the snow and ice that we received a few days back. But frankly, I'm tired of it, don't think it's beautiful, and ready for spring. Cold weather is repulsive. I want summer and I want summer now!
Sigh, I suspect it will still be a few months before I'm complaining about the heat. Although I rarely complain about the heat. I like it!
Anyway, that's all I have to say on this chilly Friday night. I hope you're warm, safe, and happy. Talk to you tomorrow!
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Joke 1: As a senior citizen was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang. Answering, he heard his wife's voice urgently warning him, "Herman, I just heard on the news that there's a car going the wrong way on Interstate 77. Please be careful!"
"It's not just one car!" said Herman. "It's hundreds of them!"
Joke 2: A family of three tomatoes were walking downtown one day when the little baby tomato started lagging behind. The big father tomato turns and yells at her, "Ketchup!"
Joke 3: A husband and wife were driving down a country lane on their way to visit some friends. They came to a muddy patch in the road, and the car became bogged. After a few minutes of trying to get the car out by themselves, they saw a young farmer coming down the lane, driving some oxen before him. The farmer stopped when he saw the couple in trouble and offered to pull the car out of the mud for $50. The husband accepted, and minutes later the car was free.
The farmer said to the husband, "You know, you're the tenth car I've helped out of the mud today."
The husband looked around at the fields incredulously and asked the farmer, "When do you have time to plow your land? At night?"
"No," the farmer replied. "Night is when I put the water in the hole."
Joke 4: A clergyman is walking down a country lane and sees a young farmer struggling to load hay back onto a cart after it had fallen off.
"You look hot, my son," said the cleric. "why don't you rest a moment, and I'll give you a hand."
"No thanks," said the young man. "My father wouldn't like it."
"Don't be silly," the minister said. "Everyone is entitled to a break. Come and have a drink of water."
Again the young man protested that his father would be upset. Losing his patience, the clergyman said, "Your father must be a real slave driver. Tell me where I can find him, and I'll give him a piece of my mind!"
"Well," replied the young farmer, "he's under the load of hay."
Joke 5: Why is a Laundromat a really bad place to pick up a woman?
Because a woman who can't even afford a washing machine will never be able to support you.
Joke 6: St. Peter and Satan were having an argument one day about baseball. Satan proposed a game to be played on neutral grounds between a select team from the heavenly host and his own hand-picked boys.
"Very well," said the gatekeeper of Heaven. "But you realize, I hope, that we've got all the good players and the best coaches."
"I know," Satan answered unperturbed. "But we've got all the umpires."
Joke 7:An aspiring young lawyer was sitting in her office late one night, when Satan appears before her. The Devil tells the lawyer, "I have a proposition for you. You can win every case you try for the rest of your life. Your clients will adore you, your colleagues will stand in awe of you, and you will make embarrassing sums of money. All I want in exchange is your soul, your husband's soul, your children's souls, the souls of your parents, grandparents, and the souls of all your friends and law partners."
The lawyer ponders this for a moment, then finally asks: "So, what's the catch?"
Joke 8:After the Great Flood was all over and Noah lowered the ramp of the ark, he told the animals, "Go forth and multiply."
All the animals left except two snakes who lay quietly in the corner of the ark.
"Why aren't you going forth and multiplying?" asked Noah.
"We can't," answered the snakes. "We're adders."
Joke 9: Three cowboys were hanging out in the bunkhouse.
"I know that Tex," said the first. "He's going to start bragging about that new foreign car he bought as soon as he gets back."
"Not Tex," the second cowboy said. "He'll always be just a good ol' boy. When he walks in, I'm sure all he'll say is hello."
"I know Tex better than either of you," said the third. "He's so smart, he'll figure out a way to do both. Here he comes now."
Tex swung open the bunkhouse door and shouted, "Audi, partners!"
Joke 10:A herd of cows and bulls are standing in a field. A huge gust of wind comes along and knocks all the cows over, but the bulls just stand there.
All the cows stand up and go back to their chewing.
Pretty soon, an even stronger wind blows through, and all of the cows are knocked to the ground again, but the bulls just stand there.
The cows get back up.
Next, a bona fide tornado comes through and all the cows are knocked clean into the next pasture. The bulls don't move.
Finally, one of the cows asks one of the bulls, "How come the wind always knocks us right over and you just stand there?"
"Isn't it obvious?" the bull replies. "We bulls wobble, but we don't fall down."
***
Talk to you tomorrow!
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Write your own post. I'm feeling a big lazy. So just write your own. Try to mention beaches and ocean and deep blue sky with a few white clouds drifting by. That's what I'm longing for as Oklahoma once again prepares for another winter storm. Although this storm is supposed to be less severe than the last, thank God.
I also have a sore throat. And my sinuses are stopped by. Whee. A winter cold to make this dreary season complete.
Anyway, get to writing, and I'll be talking to you tomorrow. I hope.
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A frustrating evening. Enough said about that.
I wish I wasn't so angry about things. I go around struggling with the urge to scream. And even if I screamed until my throat bled, I couldn't get all the anger out. So I control it. There is no letting go.
I'm a controlled person. Always have been. There's always been two people in me. The one I let the world see and the other one whom I keep hidden. All those ugly things I never share. Those dark thoughts that surprise me with their strength and longing. But that darkness is nothing new. We all have it. We all control it. There is no letting go.
Of course, some people do let go. They abicate their responibility to humanity.Some people give themselves over to their beasts. We see them or their endings on the news. Beasts are dangerous. They kill innocents. They have to be controlled. Or killed. There is no letting them go free.
Not that I have the urge to harm innocents. In fact, I suspect the darkness within me is not so terrible compared to the madmen who have ravaged this world at times. But all things are relative to the one experiencing them. It seems terrible enough to me, and there is no letting go.
Some people call that dark part of us -- the selfish, ugly, mean creature -- the lizard brain. They say it's left over from our ancestors who crawled up from primeval swamps. The lizard brain cares only for its survival and comfort. It would cheat on its spouse for pleasure, steal food from children for its hunger, and burn the bodies of its friends for warmth. Civilization would burn to ashes if we let the lizard roam unfettered.
So we harness the lizard. We throw a saddle on and ride those suckers. Modern day cowboys going the time on our reptilian natures. If we want to be good decent people, we hold the reins. And we don't let go.
Talk to you tomorrow. Good night.
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Back at work today, and by midmorning, my head was about to blow off. I got a tension headache that hung grimly on all day. But hey, the day ended, and I ate dinner and watched Chuck and Leno, and then life was better.
Hey, did you notice the new page listings up there to the left under 51313 Harbor Street? Well, there's only one page there so far: Books Read In 2010, where you can go and see what books I've read this and read brief reviews of the ones that received four and five stars. I'll be adding other pages as I think of them. Just a way to better organize information on Harbor Street.
Not much else to tell you. Working on Debt Free At Last! with Kelley Benson. I'm hoping the book will come out this spring. I should know more this week or next as we hammer out the details of what the book will cover and how quickly it can be produced.
I've been playing Lexulous with Frenzied Feline on Facebook. She started out slow and has got a lot better. She's becoming a shark. Don't bet money with her! And don't play with Jean unless you really want to work your brain. She is merciless and clever. My kind of player!
And now I'm going to bed. I hope you have a great night and wonderful tomorrow. Talk to you then.
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Sorry to be away so much the past few days. Wish I could tell that something exciting had happened, but not really. Instead my little town experienced a nasty dose of winter with snow, sleet, and ice. It started Thursday afternoon, but didn't get bad until Friday.
And Friday morning, we lost electricity at my house and didn't get back until this afternoon. Not much fun. It got cold in my house. Really cold. My roomie had left Friday afternoon to pick up Mikey to spend the weekend with us. Before he left, he started our old generator. It ran for a while and then died. We don't know what's wrong with it. He and Mikey spent the night in a hotel in Durant while I put on as many clothes as I could and suffered. It was a long, cold night.
My roomie bought a little generator and got back in town Saturday afternoon. The little generator was able to run the electric blower on the gas furnace, so Saturday night was much warmer although still as dark.
Mikey did okay. He missed playing Wii and doing the other things he enjoys with us that required electricity, but he was a lot of fun and full of energy. I'm always glad to spend time with him.
Sunday afternoon, OG&E finally got the power back on. Woohoo! By the time Mikey got home from church, the Wii was ready to go. He and my roomie played a football game. As always, I'm impressed with the Wii's graphics and sound. After that, he had to return home with a promise that he could visit again soon.
Anyway, I've spend the evening and night doing laundry and chores that I couldn't do without electricity. It's amazing how quickly things deteriorate without power. A lesson in learning to be better prepared.
I'm going to close now. I hope you're warm and safe. And that your home has electricity. Take care, and see you tomorrow!
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By Stephen B. Bagley
I confess freely I’m a sushi sissy. I can’t handle the raw fish, but the cooked sushi? I love delicious spicy shrimp wrapped with sticky rice and seaweed, shrimp tails on rice logs, and crab and avocado also wrapped with rice and seaweed. Yummy! No, really, it is. Don't make that face.
However, I know a hardcore sushi fanatic. She can clear a sushi platter with the greatest of ease and obvious enjoyment. And she likes this particular sauce — wasabi — on her sushi. Lots of wasabi. What I didn’t realize was that her taste buds had been surgically removed many years ago after a freak flame swallowing accident. Now she could drink boiling battery acid and say it had just a bit of fire.
Anyway, recently I bought a sushi platter for me and my roomie and decided that I’d try wasabi. How hot could it be? I would soon learn.
Wasabi is a chalky green. That should have been my first clue, but hey, she liked it so obviously it was good. Never trust women.
So I took a piece of spicy shrimp sushi and ladled the green sauce on. If only I had noticed the plastic spoon was melting, you wouldn’t be reading this, but I didn’t until much later.
Without a pause –- which goes to show that my overwhelming brilliance does not extend to survival instincts –- I popped the sushi piece into my mouth.
I chewed.
Once.
The world went white.
I couldn’t breathe. My entire body shuddered. My tongue actually attempted to tear itself out of my mouth.
You know that little thing that hangs down at the back of your throat? Mine caught fire.
Then I made the mistake of gasping. The wasabi fumes rolled up my nostrils and down into my lungs. My sinuses responded to this assault by producing a flood of snot. My eyes wept like they haven’t wept since Old Yeller died.
My face turned a shade of red that is only appropriate for the butts of lusting baboons.
Meanwhile, the bite of wasabied sushi was traveling down my throat leaving a line of fire. My stomach tried to dodge, but it wasn’t quick enough. It received the food with much grumbling.
After I recovered, I turned to my roomie and with my voice as steady as I could manage, I croaked, “Hey, this is really good. You should try it.”
For some reason, he didn’t believe me. People just don’t trust other people anymore. It’s quite sad, I think
Copyright 2010 by Stephen B. Bagley. All reserved. Excerpted from Floozy by Stephen B. Bagley.
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Monday. Monday. Monday. Monday. Monday.
Doesn't matter how you write it. It's always Monday. Even when your Tuesday is your Monday, somehow the fates know it's really Monday and reward you accordingly. And I had a Monday all day. Irate customer after irate customer. Difficult task after difficult task.
I was so glad when 5:30 p.m. rolled around when I could lock the doors and roll the phones to the answering service. Long, long, long day.
I thought I'd have something more interesting to tell you, but not tonight. But tomorrow, we'll have something exciting. Or funny. Or both. But we'll have something. See you then. Have a great night and wonderful tomorrow.
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1. The only way to keep your health is to eat what you don't want, drink what you don't like, and do what you'd rather not. - Mark Twain
2. I told my wife that a husband is like a fine wine; he gets better with age. The next day, she locked me in the cellar. - Anon
3. Son, if you really want something in this life, you have to work for it. Now quiet! They're about to announce the lottery numbers. - Homer Simpson
4. If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular? - Anon
5. When you are courting a nice girl an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder a second seems like an hour. That's relativity. - Albert Einstein
6. Thoughts don't stay in some people's heads because they get lonely there. - Stephen B. Bagley
7. A word to the wise ain't necessary - it's the stupid ones that need the advice. - Bill Cosby
8. Programming today is a race between software engineers striving to build bigger and better idiot-proof programs, and the Universe trying to produce bigger and better idiots. So far, the Universe is winning. - Rich Cook
9. Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much. - Oscar Wilde
10. I just broke up with someone and the last thing she said to me was "You'll never find anyone like me again!" I'm thinking, "I should hope not! If I don't want you, why would I want someone like you?" - Anon
Talk to you tomorrow!
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I've never liked Obama, but I HATE the glee some people show at his setbacks. I've always believed in praying for and hoping for the best from ALL our presidents because what they do reflect on and affect the whole nation. If God moves Obama so that he's successful in addressing our problems, I'd eat crow and be delighted to do so. If we cannot work together -- if we cannot move beyond blame, bitterness, and anger -- then we deserve our doom.
Tonight I had a conversation with a friend who told me how she hated Obama and his family because they were "bad for the nation." Out of the blue -- because, trust me, I rarely show this much wisdom -- I asked her when was the last time she had prayed for him and his family and asked God to bless them.
She paused and then said, "Never."
I suggested we pray for them right then.
She could not. She said she would choke on the words.
So I said if we hate a person so much that we can't pray for him or her, then we're letting that person get between us and God, and we can't do that if we expect to be happy. (Of course, I didn't express it as easily as that when I talked, but that was the point I finally stumbled to.)
Mind you, this is not some knee jerk conservative. She's smart, funny and a good person, but hate has crept in and curled around her soul. It was a disturbing conversation for both of us.
After we hung up, I thought for a while and have added this resolution to my list: Unless I have prayed for the president that day, I will not give myself leave to criticize him. And I don't mean a prayer in which I ask God to change his mind or to remove him from office. I mean the prayer that I pray for my friends and family: That God will keep him and his family safe and bless them with joy, health, and wisdom and an ever-increasing desire to draw closer to our Heavenly Father.
I don't know if this is a solution to all the bitterness that's out there, but I'm going to try it. I hope you do, too.
Enough preaching. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Take care and have a great night.
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"There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." - Master sportswriter Red Smith
It's easy to tell the price for being a writer. It's no big secret. The price is loneliness. It's sitting at a computer shut away from the world while you put words on the screen. If you're lucky, you have friends and/or family who give you space and are grateful for your presence when you return to them. If you're unlucky, they resent the writing and the time you're not available. Lots of people have to juggle uncompromising demands on both sides. Somehow from that juggling, art emerges.
Or sometimes not. I have a friend who has a wife and children and wants to write, but they come first and he never has time, he says. Of course, plenty of writers have families and somehow write anyway. Depends on the writer's drive. How strongly does the story inside you ache to be released? Enough that you give up sleep, give up TV, give up movies, give up social occasions, give up your life?
Maybe the price is really time. The time you spend writing isn't time you can spend on anything else. Who's to say you have to be a writer, anyway? You can be anything else. The world needs more doctors, more nurses ... that would be a good career. Of course, there's a price you have to pay for any career. Nothing worthwhile comes free.
Could the price be your soul? You put the words out there, and people hate them. What you sweated over -- what you bled over -- they dislike. It's a whip to your heart. Or worse, they ignore them. Your books are remaindered, your paragraphs forgotten. You disappear in the flood of written words. Nobody notices when you go under for the third time. You don't matter.
Perhaps the price is you. Who you are, what you believe, the things you do, your hopes, your dreams ... That's what's required of you. Everything.
And in the end, you'll have the success you deserve, but it might not be the success you wanted. Not everyone has bestsellers. Not everyone saves the world. Not everyone gets to be happy. Can you live with that?
Can you put words on paper even though only your cat will ever hear them? Are the worlds in your head worth the world you're neglecting here? Can you explain to your lover on your anniversary that you just have to finish the latest chapter? Are you willing to put in the backbreaking work? Are you willing to have your heart broken?
Can you give it all? Whatever your dream is, can you give it everything?
'Cause that's the price.
That's always the price.
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It's always comes back to this. Me at my keyboard, pounding away, living in other worlds, not necessarily better than this one, but at least not so random. Words, always words. My only true love affair. The only one I'm truly faithful to.
Bad things happen to me, and even during the midst of tragedy, somewhere in my head, I'm thinking about how to write it down. What will I say about it? How do I tell it so that my readers know what I'm feeling? And if I write it well, they'll feel it, too.
Is the impulse simply the need to share misery? Or is it the drive to make the world seem rational? We humans all impose our narratives on life. We attribute motives and make judgments. We see the world within the rules of our stories.
Those rules can be terrible. Maybe our rules say that our children shouldn't date outside their race or religion. Maybe our rules say gay people should be tormented and killed. Maybe our rules say all government is bad and needs to be torn down by violence. Maybe our rules worship evil and proclaim it as good.
It's our story, and we can change it. No end is truly written, no fate set in stone, no cruel god curses us to endless failure. Everything and nothing and all between are possible. This is our story. We can write something different if we choose.
And if we're willing to pay the price. We'll talk about paying the price tomorrow. Talk to you then.
"If you would attain to what you are not yet, you must always be displeased by what you are. For where you were pleased with yourself there you have remained. But once you have said, 'It is enough,' you are lost. Keep adding, keep walking, keep advancing; do not stop, do not turn back, do not turn from the straight road."
-St. Augustine
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A friend of mine keeps track of every book she reads each year. I thought I'd do that this year. Here's my list so far along with how many stars out of a maximum of five stars that I'd give them.
*** A Darkness Forged in Fire by Chris Evans
**** Altar of Eden by James Rollins
*** Cowl by Neal Asher
**** Crush it! By Gary Vaynerchuk
*** Design it Yourself Newsletters by Chuck Green
***** First Lord's Fury by Jim Butcher
*** Marvel Visionaires Chris Claremont
*** Orcs: Army of Shadows by Stan Nicholls
*** Robot Titans of Gotham by Novell Page
**** The Chocolate Cupid Killings by JoAnna Carl
*** The Light of Burning Shadows by Chris Evans
First Lord's Fury is a great book, the conclusion of an epic fantasy series by Jim Butcher. (Butcher writes the Dresden Files, the basis for the the short-lived show on SyFy channel.) Highly recommended. I hope he returns to these characters again in a new series. I think there's still plenty of stories left to be told in that fantastic world.
James Rollins's Altar of Eden is also a good book, but it dismayed me with its vulgar language in places, and frankly, it's not one of his best. Characters are slight, and the plot has a few holes. Still, Rollins is one of the best thriller writers out there, and I didn't think I wasted my money.
The Chocolate Cupid Killings by JoAnna Carl is also the latest in a series. I've not read any of the others, but I'm going to look for them. It's an excellent cozy. Carl, by the way, also lives in Oklahoma. I love Oklahoma authors!
Crush It! by Gary Vaynerchuk is a great book for anyone who is trying to turn their passion into a life-long career. It's worth your money if you've ever thought about telling your boss where to go and leaving to follow your dream.
Anyway, that's the books I've read so far. I'll be adding to this list as the year goes on. I hope.
I hope your tomorrow is good. Talk to you then.
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So really, what can I do? It's all well and good to write out my resolutions, but keeping them -- now there's the rub. Especially when my life is in a routine. A rut even.
It's battle between me and me. My present life versus my future. Apparently it's no holds barred, take no prisoners, no mercy from either quarter. But I have to win. Future me, I mean. There's a glorious life out there. Sometimes I can see it. Sometimes I can taste it. Sometimes I can feel it. Can't you? Or have you given up on your dreams?
I understand if you have. Dreams are tough. If you're not careful, dreams can crush you if they don't make into reality. Some people put their heads down and avoid dreaming altogether. Who can blame them?
I never know if my dreams are possible or impossible. I have them nonetheless. I suspect you have them, too. The problem isn't in having dreams; no, it's in figuring out how to achieve them. I'll be working on that the next few months.
Hope you're working on achieving your dreams, too. Talk to you tomorrow.
"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them." - Henry David Thoreau
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Okay, let's go over this again. I don't link to blogs that don't link to me unless -- and there are only two blogs under this exception on this blog that I know of -- your blog rightly belongs in one of the other categories of blogs, such as: Science, Writing, Financial, etc. And if you remove the link to my blog, I'm going to unlink you, too. It's simple netiquette to share links. I want readers to my blog just as you do.
Doesn't matter to me that you've unlinked me because you're not sure what my commentors are going to say or you're expressing your dislike of my humor or my political or religious views. Once we're unlinked, we're unlinked. Link me back, and I'll link you back.
It's that simple.
So sending me an email requesting linkage and then not linking to me? No go. Won't happen. And if I think your blog is inappropriate for my readers, I won't link to you, but hey, you don't have to link to me, either.
No hard feelings one way or another.
I realize almost all the people who read this blog are wondering what's this about. So naturally I'm not repeating my rules to you. It's for someone else.
Anyway, hope you're had a good Wednesday. I'm going to call it a night. Take care and have a great tomorrow!
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I've been sort of following the talk show drama on NBC, and on the news tonight, they interviewed a person who said it was "a tragedy" how NBC was treating Conan O'Brien. Obviously the meaning of "tragedy" has changed. I thought it meant something like the crash of a plane or a tornado smashing a town or an earthquake. Apparently I'm wrong. Instead it means a group of old white men arguing about how many millions they can make. Who knew?
I'm a Leno fan, although not enough to watch his show regularly. Leno is mainstream, something for which he's regularly criticized by TV critics. TV critics watch so much TV -- and TV is basically repeat after repeat, even in the new shows -- that they are desperate for anything new. Leno is not new. He's familiar. Safe. Dependable. He's a four-door sedan when the critics want a Lamborghini. Look, guys, you might look good in the Lamborghini, but the sedan will get more mileage and be more useful.
By the way, how do you get the job of a TV critic? Seems pretty cushy to me. If they disagree, I'll let them work in my office for a week taking care of demanding and angry customers while I do their job watching TV shows and meeting celebrities. And when the week is over and they desperately want to return to their jobs ... I won't switch.
It could work.
Hope life is treating you well. Talk to you tomorrow.
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Not getting enough sleep lately. For some reason, I wake up at five every morning and then can't get back to sleep. My sleep rhythms are messed up. Don't know why. So I'm running on an empty tank lately. For that reason and some others.
I had a good day Saturday. Felt good so I got a lot done. I finally have all my Christmas decorations and Christmas tree down and put away. That look most of Saturday morning and a lot of the afternoon. Then I cleaned house, did laundry, and generally was very productive. Sunday was more of the same, although less active because I did take nap, which helped me feel better, but didn't seem to recharge me as I would like. Getting ol -- more mature.
Been reading Murder by Dewey Decimal and Murder by the Acre to prepare for the writing of Murder by the Mile. I haven't read either of them for a while so I was pleasantly surprised by some of the writing in both. In places, I said exactly what I meant to say. Of course, I found a few awkward spots that I'd write different now -- more so for MBDD than MBTA -- but I've certainly read worse from other writers, so I feel inclined to be more forgiving than I was when I was editing them. I must be getting soft in my ... maturity.
Still trying to follow the low carb diet. I cheat, of course, but I'm getting better about that. I'm trying to change how I regard food. I don't want it to be the center of my life. "Eat to live and not live to eat" -- An old saying that might have more meaning in it that I had originally thought.
This is a photo of a stream in Wintersmith Park. Lovely if a bit cold.
And now I'm going to bed. I'm worn out. More sleep and tomorrow will be better. I hope you have a good night and a great tomorrow. Talk to you then!
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I should have posted last night, but I was locked in Lexulous death matches with Frenzied Feline and her sister so I didn't. Yes, you can blame them. Or my lack of willpower. No, let's blame them.
Anyway, here are Ten Riddles for our Ten on Thursday post to stretch your brain. And try to resist looking up the answers on Google, okay? I've always loved riddles, particularly since reading The Hobbit as a teenager. Who can forget that marvelous riddle game that Bilbo and Gollum engage in?
Riddle 1
I can be quick and then I'm deadly.
I am a rock, shell, and bone medley.
If I were a man, I'd make people dream.
I gather my millions by ocean, sea, and stream.
What am I?
Riddle 2
I appear once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years.
What am I?
Riddle 3
I bind it and it walks.
I loose it and it stops.
What is it?
Riddle 4
What is it that you will break even when you name it?
Riddle 5
I am the beginning of sorrow, and the end of sickness. You cannot express happiness without me, yet I am in the midst of crosses. I am always in risk, yet never in danger. You may find me in the sun, but I am never out of darkness.
What am I?
Riddle 6
What is put on a table, cut, but never eaten?
Riddle 7
When one does not know what it is, then it is something; but when one knows what it is, then it is nothing.
What is it?
Riddle 8
I have a little house in which I live all alone. It has no doors or windows, and if I want to go out I must break through the wall.
What am I?
Riddle 9
Feed me and I live.
Give me drink and I die.
What am I?
Riddle 10
I soar without wings, I see without eyes.
I've traveled the universe to and fro.
I've conquered the world, yet I've never been anywhere but home.
Who am I?
I'll post the answers in the comments tomorrow. Good luck!
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So I've been spending too much time playing Lexulous on Facebook the last couple of days. In case you don't know, Lex is a Scrabble clone. I enjoy Scrabble, but can never find people to play with me. I've been delighted with Lex, although I confess that I've been using words that I have no idea what they mean.
Lex allows you up play tiles, and then it checks if the word is correct without there being any penality if the word doesn't exist. (Only if you don't play a Challenge game, which so far, I haven't.) When I get stumped, I just play combinations of letters until I stumble across a word.
Here is a list of words I've played that I had no idea they were words until I played them:
ZI
OY
AIT
ZIN
QOPH
XI
Cool, eh? Particularly 'QOPH.' I had no idea there were even any Q words that didn't have an U in them. I have looked those words up and know what they mean now. I guess I'm learning things, too. And any day you learn something new is a good day.
Hope you had a good day. Talk to you tomorrow.
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Well, my last 2009 Christmas get-together was this afternoon. I guess Christmas 2009 is finally over. It was a good Christmas. Family, friends, laughter, tears, prayer, singing, praising, shopping, wrapping, decorating, and a few wonderful low carb meals ... It was everything I should have wanted most and everything I really needed. So one more time, let me say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
I prepared the food for today's gathering so I thought I'd share a picture of the table. And hey, I didn't eat as I cooked this year. Hurray for me! Although as you can tell, not much cooking involved, just putting it all together. And now I realize a tablecloth would have made everything look nicer. Oh well, Martha Stewart has nothing to fear from me.
I hope you had a good weekend. Mine was. Talk to you tomorrow.
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This look back at 1909 has been making the email rounds. Thought I would share it with you here.
THE YEAR 1909
This will boggle your mind.
The year is 1909.
One hundred years ago.
What a difference a century makes!
Here are some statistics for the Year 1909:
The average life expectancy was 47 years.
Only 14 percent of the homes had a bathtub.
Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.
There were only 8,000 cars and only 144 miles of paved roads.
The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.
The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.
The average wage in 1909 was 22 cents per hour.
The average worker made between $200 and $400 per year.
A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year, a dentist $2,500 per year, a veterinarian between $1,500 and $4,000 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.
More than 95 percent of all births took place at home.
Ninety percent of all doctors had NO COLLEGE EDUCATION! Instead, they attended so-called medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and the government as 'substandard.'
Sugar cost four cents a pound.
Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen.
Coffee was fifteen cents a pound.
Most women only washed their hair once a month, and used Borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
Canada passed a law that prohibited poor people from entering their country for any reason.
Five leading causes of death were:
1. Pneumonia and influenza
2. Tuberculosis
3. Diarrhea
4. Heart disease
5. Stroke
The American flag had 45 stars.
The population of Las Vegas, Nevada, was only 30!
Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and iced tea hadn't been invented yet.
There was no Mother's Day or Father's Day.
Two out of every 10 adults couldn't read or write and only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.
Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at the local corner drugstores. Back then pharmacists said, 'Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind,regulates the stomach and bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health.'
Eighteen percent of households had at least one full-time servant or domestic help.
There were about 230 reported murders in the ENTIRE U.S.A.!
Plus one more sad thought; 95 percent of the taxes we have now did not exist in 1909
You can now forward this to someone else without typing it yourself. From there, it will be sent to others all over the world -- all in a matter of seconds!
Try to imagine what it may be like in another 100 years.
***
I have no idea if the statistics quoted here are correct, but they sound right.
How was your first day of the year? I started my resolutions, but don't have them quite ready to share with you yet. I did walk today and working on my blog and a few other things that I had intended. So far, so good.
Oh, I played a fun game of Lexulous on Facebook with Frenzied Feline. Lexulous is a Scrabble clone and lots of fun. I have three other games going now. Anyway, thanks Frenzied Feline. And thanks, Jean, whom I'm also playing -- and losing to.
Anyway, a good day. I hope yours was too. Talk to you tomorrow.
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And so the year is ending, and the 2009 Harbor Street Christmas Celebration is closing, too. Around town people are already packing up their Christmas decorations, and putting an end to another holiday season. It's sad how eager some of them are to get back to "normal" and to resume daily life. Perhaps their Christmas was sad or tiresome, perhaps their daily life is packed with excitement ... I don't know.
I do know that I'm always melancholy when Christmas ends. Nothing except cold winter months to soldier through, nothing to look forward to except spring and it seems so far away. But it will come. Always does.
Outside right now a cold drizzle is falling. Damp more than wet, chilly more than cold, grey clouds rather than black. A nothingness as it were. A muffled quiet. Time to keep the house warm, break out the daylight lamp, wrap clothes around you to keep away the insidious grey. It will creep into your soul if you let it.
But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to bask in the glow of a new approaching year. Of new changes and new adventures. New possibilities. New blessings. Of course, there will be disasters and mistakes and probably a few terrible things, but I found the perfect quote for this. Agatha Christie once said, "I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."
So I'm glad we're all still alive, racing into the undiscovered country together. I pray that God will shower you with the blessings of health, wealth, and joy in 2010! Together with Him, we are unstoppable. God bless you and see you in the new year.
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HSCC continues! Yes, you thought it was safe to return to the blog, but you were WRONG! My Christmas won't officially end until Sunday, Jan. 3, so endure -- I mean -- ENJOY a few more days of that Yuletide cheer! Or else ...
Saturday my roomie and I drove up to Shawnee to meet my family at the Cracker Barrel there. We talked, ate (and yes, I stayed low carb), took pictures, and generally had a good time. Afterwards, my brother's family and my roomie and I went the Shawnee Mall and walked around for a couple of hours. First mall I've been to in several years. I tried to buy some sugar-free jelly beans in the candy store in the mall, but they didn't have them. Other than purchasing a present for one of my roomie's grandson, I didn't buy anything. Oops, I take that back. I did buy myself a sweater on sale at JCPenney's.
The drive back home was much better than the drive up. Our area received the snow and ice you saw in the news -- my town got 6-7 inches of the nasty stuff -- and the roads were slick. But by the time we started home, the roads were much better with only a couple of miles that were still covered by ice.
Sunday I cleaned house, put away Christmas gifts, did laundry, washed dishes, and generally was as productive as I could be between long periods of napping like a bear. I'm going miss all the wonderful Christmas concerts that had been showing on TV lately. I enjoyed them.
Speaking of things I miss, my friend's blog are mostly silent these days. Still, Michelle has been posting updates so that's good. Frenzied Feline hasn't updated since November, but I do like the template she's using. Nice, isn't it? I used to be able to nag FF into blogging, but my nagging powers have diminished and she ignores me now. Jean has moved her blog to a new site -- update your links accordingly -- but it's still active. Jean is a fellow writer, and I like hearing about her struggles and successes with her novels. Erudite Redneck continues to stir the political and life pot over on his blog. I'm grateful he's still out there swinging. Although she doesn't have a link to my blog, I've been reading EJ's blog lately. EJ has three books out on Lulu.com that I intend to buy at my next paycheck. You can buy them here. Adam has been posting but has taken a break again. Sigh. Really, my friends need to post something interesting for me to read EACH AND EVERY DAY!
What else? I'm ready for summer. So very ready for warmth and sunshine and glorious long days. Love Christmas and Thanksgiving; they're grand and help make winter bearable. My heart, however, belongs to summer.
And now, I'm going to share a few Customer Service Tips that will doubtlessly help you during these holiday shopping days if you work retail or in any other way interact with the public.
From The Anti-Customer Service Training Manual
Customer Service Tip #13: Not only is the customer not always right, sometimes they are batweasel crazy. When this happens, take a deep breath and remember they're not worth you going to prison.
Customer Service Tip #56: It's not your customer's fault he/she is loathsome. That's what happens when first cousins marry. Be kind.
Customer Service Tip #87: I don't care what Willy in Receiving says; drinking when you're busy on your job is a bad thing. For one thing, you might get fired ... Wait, let me think about this some more.
Customer Service Tip #134: In most social circles, it's considered impolite to leap the service counter and snatch your customer baldheaded. Remember this, and you'll be welcome everywhere.
Customer Service Tip #159: If the customer has money and you'll do anything to get it, this means conventional wisdom is wrong: Customer service IS the oldest profession in the world.
Customer Service Tip #176: Bad breath and body odor will only drive away the most sensitive customers. It's not worth the risk of tooth decay and disease. So go ahead and brush your teeth and shower once in a while. Deodorant is, of course, optional.
Customer Service Tip #211: Bitterness is never attractive. Learn to fake sincerity, and your customers will love you until you turn on them like a mad badger and gnaw their legs off.
Customer Service Tip #236: Never tell a customer you're going to have him/her hunted down and killed in the street like a dog. It will upset them. No, let it be a total surprise when it happens.
Copyright 2009 by Stephen B. Bagley. Excerpted from The Anti-Customer Service Training Manual.
And now I think we'll close. I'll be talking with you tomorrow. Same blog channel, same blog time. Or something like that.
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The Christmas Story
Luke 2:1 And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed.
2:2 (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)
2:3 And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.
2:4 And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)
2:5 To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with Child.
2:6 And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
2:7 And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
2:8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
2:9 And, lo, the angel of the LORD came upon them, and the glory of the LORD shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
2:10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
2:11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the LORD.
2:12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
2:13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
2:14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
2:15 And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into Heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the LORD hath made known unto us.
2:16 And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the Babe lying in a manger.
2:17 And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this Child.
2:18 And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.
2:19 But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.
2:20 And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.
2:21 And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the Child, His Name was called JESUS, which was so named of the angel before He was conceived in the womb.
Matthew 2:1 Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,
2:2 saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.
2:3 When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.
2:4 And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born.
2:5 And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of Judea: for thus it is written by the prophet,
2:6 And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, art not the least among the princes of Judah:
for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel.
2:7 Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.
2:8 And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.
2:9 When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.
2:10 When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.
2:11 And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.
***
I hope you have a safe, happy, and healthy Christmas filled with God's love for us and the love of your family and friends. Have a wonderful day.
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Tales from Bethlehem:
The Serving Girl's Story
By Stephen B. Bagley
It was the sheep. When they arrived, I knew something strange was going on. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
My name is Galhalonga, and I am a serving girl at Keloe's Inn. Let's get two things out of the way up front: First, my name is easy to say. It's Gah-ha-lon-ga. Easy pleasey. Second, I serve wine and meat. That's all. Some men think a serving girl is a Roman tart. That may be so for some -- not to name names because I don't gossip, but Florence at Nero's Inn of the Seven Seas has such things said about her and not just by me -- but I hold onto my honor. My boyfriend Gregor will marry me as soon as we have enough coin to start us in a trade.
Gregor is tall and lanky and sweet. He takes a bath once a month whether he needs it or not. I admit I sometimes have to provide the desire for his bath, but I figure that's my job as his intended. I should keep him clean and sober. He will make a good father for our nine children even though he seems to stutter a lot when I mention that. I hope the children don't inherit that or his nose. Really, his nose is fine, but his face is too small for that nose. That nose needs a large face. Like the side of a mountain, for instance. But I love everything about him, including his stuttering and beak.
It had been a busy night. Our inn was rafter deep with villagers and travelers. The Roman Emperor Augusta Caesar had said that everyone had to return to her or his native village so that they could be taxed. Yes, I know it makes no sense since people could be taxed anywhere, but that's what he said. Like most men, he needs to get a good woman to guide him.
So our inn in Bethlehem was packed. The other serving girl Dora Ruth and I never got a chance to rest our feet as we delivered platters of roasted lamb, roasted beef, roasted goose, and roasted eel to our loud patrons. (Linos, our cook, would roast the wine if he could.)
"Galhalonga, where is that dimwit?" the same such cook hollered at me.
I glanced around the common room. Gregor was nowhere to be seen. In fact, I hadn't seen him since Keloe sent him to show some people to our stable. Our rooms were full, but leave it to Keloe to figure out a way to make a few more coins. He had rented this young couple one of our stable stalls, supposedly because the woman was about to give birth, but it was really for the coins. The man would steal the gold from his dead grandmother's eyes if he could.
"I need him to get a cask for me," Linos said. "Find him and tell him to get back to work!"
I nodded, not wanting to bellow above the crowd like a common fishwife. I snatched a hunk of bread and a bunch of grapes and hide them in my skirt. My dimwit -- Gregor, I mean, would appreciate the food.
Outside the cold air was a relief. A thousand stars lit up the night. One seemed to dance in the sky above me. I had never seen anything like it, but I didn't spend much time looking at the heavens. There were too many things that needed to be done here on the ground.
I heard a noise. Gregor was standing outside the stable.
"There you are," I said. "What are you up to? You have cook so mad --"
"Shh," he said, reaching out and taking my hand.
“Now, I done told you that you won't be getting no sweetness from me until we're wed so --"
"Be quiet," he said. "Listen. Listen."
I stood there silent for a few moments. The night seemed full of strange meaning, like a dream where things make sense but you can't explain afterwards.
"What are we listening for?" I asked quietly.
"For the world to change," he said.
From inside the stable came a baby's first cry.
It's a sweet sound, that first cry, my mother always said. It's when you know those months of worry are over and then you can put those fears aside ... and shoulder new ones, she always added, with a mock glare at me and my sisters.
I looked at Gregor. His eyes were wet, and he seemed overwhelmed. Obviously he would of no use when our children were born, not that men ever are. They always act like they've done something important when a baby is born even though women do all the work.
I patted his hand. "Babies come all the time, dear. You need to get back in there before Linos comes looking for you."
"Can't you feel it?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.
"Maybe you should sit down for a moment," I said, leading him over to a bench. "I think cook has hit you on the head a few too many times. Here." I handed him the bread and the grapes. "You'll feel better after you eat."
He nodded and started chewing. I stood off to the side, watching the star. It was so bright that as I got my night eyes, I could see clearly. Even though my breath came out in clouds, I didn't feel cold. I had got too hot in the inn, I thought. Keloe needed to put in some windows. It would help the smell, too.
Something nudged my rear. "Stop it," I said, not turning around.
Another nudge. "Gregor, that's enough," I snapped. "If you feel good enough to be handsey, you feel good enough to work --"
The nudge became a push, and I fell. I rolled over, furious. I stared at the determined face of a sheep.
"You -- ewe!" I sputtered.
Gregor was laughing as he came over and helped me up.
"It was being baaaaaad," he said.
"Oh, stop it," I snapped. Everywhere I looked, I could see sheep, walking quietly toward the stable. Gregor and I moved in front of them, pushed by a tide of small, smelly bodies.
"Where is the babe?"
For a startled moment, I thought one of the sheep had spoken, but then I saw several shepherds, moving among their flocks.
"Babe?" I asked stupidly.
"We were in the fields, watching our flocks," another shepherd said. "And then ..." His voice trailed away.
Another shepherd took up his words. "And then ... an angel appeared. And spoke to us."
The first man said, "It said, 'Fear not: for behold, I bring you great tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.'"
The men all nodded. They didn't seem crazy. Well, not too crazy.
"He's in there," Gregor said, pointing to the stable.
The men came forward. One of them stopped and said to me, "And then the heavens were filled with angels. And they said, 'Glory to God in highest and on earth peace, good will toward men.'" His tears glistened in the starlight. He walked on.
Gregor pulled me after them. I followed him reluctantly, somehow afraid of what I would see. I felt my breath coming in gasps. I stopped moving, resisting Gregor, resisting what lay ahead.
"Don't be afraid," Gregor said, holding my hand. "You have only joy to gain." He looked at me as I stood there. "Or I can walk you back to the inn, if that's what you want."
"But you'll come back here, won't you?" I asked. "You won't stay with me."
He didn't reply, but I knew the answer. I could feel Gregor changing in some way that I didn't understand. Either I changed with him, or I would lose him.
My heart felt heavy, but I squared my shoulders and walked to the stable to make my way inside. The shepherds were gathered around a woman and man. Moving closer, I could see a newborn, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
I took a deep breath. This was all? It was just a babe. I couldn't understand what all the commotion was about ... and then the babe turned His tiny head and looked at me, His clear blue eyes meeting mine for a moment. A moment that stretched into eternity and beyond and the heaviness fell away and my soul filled with such possibilities and such joy that I couldn't keep myself from laughing like I hadn't laughed since I was a child or maybe ever.
Although many years have passed since that night, I tell you now that He knew me and smiled at me, the serving girl.
I don't know if the world changed then, as Gregor said, but I know I did.
Copyright 2009 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.
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Tales from Bethlehem:
The Stable Boy's Tale
By Stephen B. Bagley
Now, of course, after all these years, I’ve heard the tale from other folks. It’s plain there be a few misconceptions about the whole happenin’ that I, Gregor Nikolas, intends to correct hereforth.
Let me start at the beginning with me being born. Perhaps that be too far back, but I won’t bore you with much detail other than to say that I was eighth in my family so it was no surprise when my pater forgot me at Keloe’s inn when I was seven. Keloe has gotten some bad jawing about him due to the events that I am about to relate, but truthfully he wasn’t a bad or cruel innkeeper. He washed his plates once a week even if they had been wiped clean by travelers, and made us all take baths once a month whether we needed them or not. Still he fed me and his other workers fair enough and let us sleep inside when it rained or snowed, so we could forgive his unnatural obsession with cleanliness.
That particular night we was full up. His mighty hineyness Augusta Caesar had ordered that all folks return to their birthing place so that they could be counted and taxed. Them Romans were good on taxing and on building roads and bridges, which was helpful since they had the personalities of old dead fishes — if fishes can carry swords and be pretty easy about swinging them in the vicinity of other folks’ necks.
Anyways, a lot of folks had returned to Bethlehem. Folks usually left Bethlehem when they was old enough to leave since it was a one-donkey town at that time and didn’t have much to keep someone down on the farm unless they was just partial to drudgery. Galhalonga, my sweetie except when she’s got her temper up and then she don’t belong to the gods or any man, said we were going to leave as soon as we saved enough for passage to Rome. Rome was big city and sounded exciting except for having all those Romans there. Since folks left town as soon as able, there wasn’t much need for lots of extra rooms or inns for that matter. In fact, there were just three inns in town, if you counted ours twice and Nero’s Inn of the Seven Seas once. (They served an excellent salad dressing there.) So we was jam-packed with folks, so much so that I saw the fleas leaving.
I was out getting more water to water down the wine. The night was cold and clear. Away from the inn, it was as dark as a soldier’s heart. There, I got my first suspicion that somethin’ was up. No, really, somethin’ was up. A star as it were, shining pretty bright. In fact, as I stood there, I realized that it was almost bright enough to read if those folks who claim to be able to, really can and aren’t just foolin’ the rest of us.
I got the water out of the well, nearly freezing my hands off, which would have been fairly inconvenient and I’d have to become one of those beggars at the gates. ‘No Hands Gregor’ they would call me, I’d bet, and then Gahlalonga would come and see me and weep at her handsome man and cuddle me and hold me.
The cook yelled at me from the back door so I woke up from my daydreaming and took the water bucket over to him. He half-hearted cuffed me for taking so long, but I’m quick, and so he only hit the side of my head and hurt his hand badly.
I slipped past him and made my way to the common room which was filled with smoke and noise. Galhalonga was serving some merchants some ale and trying to avoid their hands. She smiled at me and then frowned. She did that a lot. See me and think that she loved me and then see something on me that she needed to be changing, like me washing my hands or getting the manure off my feet. She also had an obsession about cleanliness. I just hoped it wasn’t catchin’.
Keloe hollered at me. He was standing at the door, letting in the cold or perhaps letting it out. It was hard to tell.
“Take these people to the stable,” Keloe said. “We have no room here.”
A man stood there. His clothes were simple but clean. Behind him patiently stood a donkey on which was a woman who was, as they say in the market, with child. Of course by that, they meant she was going to have a baby, not that a child was with her holding her hand or nothin’. I frankly don’t understand folks sometimes.
“Follow me,” I told the man. I waited until Keloe had closed the door before I added, “Actually, you’re lucky. The stable is much warmer and has a better class of vermin than in the inn.”
The man darted a look at me and then smiled. He looked back at the woman, and he was serious again. She was young and pretty in a quiet sort of way. I led them around back to where Keloe had dug several rooms into the hill to make a place for the animals. We had one empty stall, though.
I grabbed a pole and raked the fresh straw over the area.
The woman gave a little gasp.
“Mary!” the man said.
I realized then and there that she was ‘bout to give birth there and then.
“Help me,” the man said. We both helped his Mary into the stable. I found some clean blankets from some of the packs of the inn’s guests and spread them out.
“We need light,” the man said. “And water.”
I ran to the inn and snatched up a olive oil lamp. The cook tried to stop me, but I ducked under his arm and was outside and back at the stable before he drew enough breath to bellow.
I gave the lamp to the man and then went to get some water from the well. I felt a real urgency about this that, looking back, should have surprised me, but it was like the whole night was expectin’ somethin’. I felt my heart leap and move in my chest in a strange new way.
I brought the man the water bucket and then backed away from the stable. Overhead the star poured out light like it was a river of brightness.
“There you are,” Galhalonga said. “What are you up to? You have cook so mad —”
“Shhh,” I said, reaching out and taking her hand.
“Now, I already told you that you won’t be getting no sweetness from me until you marry —” she began.
“Be quiet,” I said. “Listen. Listen.”
She was silent for a few moments and then quietly asked, “What are we listening for?” Her eyes were wide.
The night was still and quiet. The stars whirled above.
“For the world to change,” I said, not really understanding what I was sayin’ but knowin’ somehow it was true.
From inside the stable came a baby’s first cry.
Copyright 2009 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.
***
Tomorrow we'll have The Serving Girl's Tale, the last of the Tales from Bethlehem this Christmas. Talk to you then.
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This is delicious and healthy low carb dip for your Christmas party. Where is my invitation?
Mexican Salsa
3 medium tomatoes, seeded and chopped
1 can (15 ounces) black beans, rinsed and drained
3/4 cup fresh or frozen corn
1/2 cup finely chopped red onion
1/2 cup chopped red pepper
1 jalapeno pepper, finely chopped
2 tablespoons minced fresh cilantro
1/4 cup lime juice
1 garlic clove, minced
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon salt
Combine all ingredients and let sit for two hours in fridge so flavors mingle. Serve with baked tortilla chips. Good eating!
***
I forgot to update you on my Friday doctor visit. Not much happened there. They took blood for tests, and I'm waiting for results again. At this time -- unless the tests show something different -- I'm not going to have to go on insulin. Instead they're going to adjust my oral meds. So far, so good.
Oh, and this low carb diet I'm on is actually letting me lose weight. 11 pounds so far. Cool, eh? Of course, the doctor told me that the weight loss is going to slow down as my body adjusts to it, but he still thinks I should continue to lose 3-5 pounds a month. And while it hasn't been pleasant -- I miss bread, soft drinks, sweets -- it's been okay. And frankly, it's a small price to pay for better health.
And now a bit of music. Sing!
We Wish You a Merry♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Christmas♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪We Wish You a Merry ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Christmas ♥ ♥ ♥We Wish You A Merry ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Christmas ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...And A Happy New Year!♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...
Did you sing? I didn't hear you. Let's do it again louder!
We Wish You a Merry♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Christmas♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪We Wish You a Merry ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Christmas ♥ ♥ ♥We Wish You A Merry ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Christmas ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...And A Happy New Year!♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...
There! That was much better!
***
I hope everything is going well for you. I miss all the blogging most of you used to do. Facebook ruined the blogs. I hate that. Talk to you tomorrow!
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1. Purchase a pretty clear glass jar with a lid. Buy M&Ms or different types of chewing gum or other candies and fill jar. Decorate jar with nice stickers. (Scrapbooking stores have stickers that look great.) Put bow on top. Excellent gift for co-worker or teacher.
2. Purchase plain pillar candles in various colors. Cut Post-it notes into star shapes or purchase stickers. Stick on candle. Or use masking tape to create stripes. Using paint brush or sponge, dab gold and/or silver paint on pillars. Or use any color desired. Paint should be water based and not flammable. Do not use oil or alcohol paints of any kind. When finished painting, carefully remove tape and/or Post-its to allow the pillar's color to show. Let dry overnight. Bind two or three together with a pretty ribbon.
3. Purchase small wooden picture frame. Remove glass. Cover frame with stickers or hot-glue foreign coins on it or paste used postage stamps of various designs on it. Place photo inside of you with the person you've giving it to. Or a travel photo. Or cut a Christmas card front to fit frame.
4. A couple of packages of specialty coffee make a perfect gift for your caffeine junkie. Include a few bottles of various flavorings for a special treat.
5. Gift cards and gift certificates. Easy to send through the mail as the enclosure of a Christmas card. Add that saved postage to the gift card amount for a really jolly Christmas.
6. Bake some cookies and put them in a glass jar with a lid that has a bow on top. Many stores have sugar cookies with a design already in the dough.
***
Talk to you tomorrow.
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I've been wandering around my head lately, and in that vast echoing space, I found a few random thoughts about Christmas that I thought I'd share with you.
I don't like Santa Claus. I mean, those guys who dress up as Santa. Their suits never fit, and they always seem surly. Or drunk. I don't think they're happy, but listen, the Easter bunny's not having a good time, either. It's tough all over.
I also don't like ornaments or decorations that show Santa kneeling at the Nativity. That's just weird. Yes, I understand the symbolism of it, but it's still weird.
Do Santa’s reindeer poop as they fly overhead? Perhaps that's what happens to people who make the naughty list.
Playboy runs this ad where they offer a video of their Playmates in which the ad says "It's the perfect Christmas gift for your husband." Seriously, what wife buys that for her husband? None do. And I think they know that no wife would. It's just their way of trying to disguise the whole creepiness of it. Hey, it's Christmas. Let’s celebrate the season and watch some porn! Ho, ho, ho.
Why do the local weathermen always seem so pleased when bad weather happens? They can barely contain their joy as they tell us about icy sleet and dangerous roads. Are they that bored? The next time that Channel 19 guy starts grinning as he tells us how terrible the weather is going to be, I'm going to hunt him down and introduce him to the business end of a 2x4.
People in California and Florida receive too much sun in December. It bakes their brains. When you walk on their beaches, you think that you smell suntan lotion, but it's actually brains frying in coconut oil. The vendors sell them in cones.
I want to get too much sun, though. I want to lie on those beaches. I want to sip cold, fruity drinks with umbrellas in them and enjoy the sights and sounds of the ocean as the breeze brings me the faint hint of frying brains.
My Christmas village is cool. I've enjoyed setting it up. But the other day as I was moving the figurines around, my roomie came up to me, looked at the lovely and peaceful village and said, "It figures you'd like playing with dolls." He's funny. And fast, too. I missed him with both shots.
Gift bags are truly good things. I don't care what Martha Stewart says. I do like Martha, though. I think she's hot -- in that strange, horrible perfectionist way. If you dated her, you couldn't just kiss her or hold her hand. You'd have to make some sort of presentation of the whole thing with fresh cut flowers and ice cold caviar and handmade chocolate sweets. She'd be too much trouble. That's why I don't date her. That and the fact I don't know her.
And I think that's enough randomness for today. Hope things are going well for you. I'll talk with you tomorrow.
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