Remember how yesterday I said Pioneer Woman's biscuits would be high and fluffy? Okay, so I went to check for a PW biscuit recipe and when I clicked on Breakfast/Brunch, there they were, first thing, a picture of sausage and high and fluffy biscuit. I said, Well, what do you know?, she is using biscuit to advertise her whole breakfast section. KEM is batting a thousand so far.
Next, I find the actual recipe, which was under Sausage Gravy and Biscuits. I've noticed she will put two recipes together, like Braised Short Ribs and Polenta. PW always gives you the low-down before the recipe. Like how you will faint and die when you eat this stuff, etc. So, she launched into the glories of sausage gravy. And I knew Happy Biscuit Time was right over the horizon, Tra-la-la. And then. AND THEN she said we would have to forgive her and not throw rotten tomatoes, but she uses CANNED BISCUITS. Well, that's sort of what she said, I couldn't believe it and I'm going to gather my rotten tomatoes RIGHT NOW.
Her excuse is she has to cook for her hungry cowboy husband and he only eats strong man cowboy food (you realize I'm paraphrasing). He prefers canned biscuits to homemade. Okay, she has made him out to be THE perfect male specimen on the planet in her love story, but here we have a serious chink in the armor if I've ever seen a chink. Gads, what man in his right mind prefers Pillsbury dough in a can to the real McCoy???????? Well, if that is his only fault, I shall have to reserve judgment . . . but still.
SOOOOOO, this leaves my flat little biscuits as being superior to PW'S canned impersonator biscuits. I know that somewhere I have a recipe for biscuits that uses cream. I cut it out eons ago and I remember it, how 'bout that? Yes I do, I remember that I wanted to try that recipe some day. Maybe when my MIL comes to visit, we can sit at the dining room table and do a project -- Organize KEM'S Unorganizable and Prolific Recipes. Of course, to complete such a project would require MIL to move in permanently and I know she wouldn't want to do that.
Man, I'm bummed that PW uses canned biscuits. I can't believe it. What's the world a comin' to? But I shall refrain from sending hate mail that she begs us not to.
Tonight was exciting as we ate pizza out and a poor bedraggled man came in with 3 children. He looked beat to the socks. Apparently the kids were not acting to his specifications because out of nowhere we heard a breath taking holler, GOOD G . . ! We all jumped. It was freaky enough to make everyone freeze in creepy silence. The owner came out and got busy taking their order. One of the little girls looked ready to cry. As we were leaving, the man and that girl were outside and he was saying something about the boy wanting to order something too expensive. Just a very dejected scene. Sad.
But we topped that. 'Cause it was just getting dark and we were driving downtown and all of a sudden someone in the car yelled, WATCH IT! Mike had to slam on the breaks and he missed hitting a man crossing the street (against the light and totally clueless) by a fraction of an inch. It was Screech City. The man in question never even seemed to bat an eye, just kept walking, never stopped or anything. Toyota may give you a runaway accelerator pedal, but I can vouch that their brakes stop your car on a dime. My water jugs in the trunk, that Mike had just secured neatly behind a case of small water bottles, nicely pinned in, so they would quit rolling, went flying All this commotion was definitely undoing the effects of a good ravioli dinner.
But we thank God for protection. And my heart goes out to the sad little family. The father there didn't look real young for 3 kids ages 11 and under, I guess. Who knows what his story is. Then the night ended well as I found my missing yearbook at my parents' house. Yes, I was missing one year, and I didn't want to do that. No telling what little gems I shall uncover between the covers, ha, ha.
Why can't I get to bed before 3:00 AM? I need a psychiatrist.
Hope my poor little nephew is feeling better. He came home all tilted and crooked after the surgery, suffering immensely, as you know. Didn't get an update today. Tomorrow for sure.
Biskuit Kueen KEM (at least one tier above Kanned) (PLUS, I forgive PW for this letdown because all her other recipes are so great) (KEM drives a hard line sometimes)
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
A little cabbage goes a long way. EVERY time I fix coleslaw, I end up with a mountain of it. And yours truly ends up eating 3/4 of that mountain because you can't waste perfectly good coleslaw, now can you? Honestly, I try so hard to just cut off a small hunk from the cabbage. But it multiplies. And it doesn't keep well, I've found. It goes limp and tastes funny even by the next day. Adding grated carrots seems to help the cabbage from turning black on the edges, at least. You know me and unseemly black spots on vegetables.
So, everything in life seems to go limp eventually, at varying rates of speed of course, depending upon what we're talking about. For instance, my sheets seem to go limp after about 4 nights sleep. In fact, they begin to feel like oilcloth. Or my pastry cloth after rolling out one too many pie crusts. Well, maybe oily isn't limp, but it's the same idea of wilt. Once at summer camp, month-long camp, I was a counselor, all decked out in a home-made dress, pale pink sleeveless silky dress with a little sheer flowered jacket thingy, I forget what you call it. Anyway, it was HOT at camp, no AC or anything. This was Sunday after church at lunch, the best meal of the week, and I was serving tables. I walked into the kitchen to pick up a bowl of rice and this fellow counselor said, You look like a . . . wilted flower. THANK YOU VERY MUCH, not the picture I was going for.
Hey, I made biscuits tonight and the dough was limp. My biscuits don't like to rise. I use non-aluminum baking powder, is that's what's wrong? Anyway, the dough was too wet and saggy and of course I wound up with flat disc-y biscuits. They tasted good because I used that marvelous pastry flour, which I bought to make Pioneer Woman's Best Ever Pancakes (which the second time I made them they were completely different, did I tell you that?, not as good, of course, when I had company).
Speaking of Pioneer Woman, Sweet Tulsa tells me today that she saw where they are going to make a movie of PW'S love story. Sweet Tulsa amazes me, she is so in the know. I said, Not surprised, it's a great story and I wonder who will play the part of PW? So, I digested that through the day and at dinner (fried chicken, mashed taters, COLE SLAW and apple sauce and FLAT biscuits) I mentioned to Mike, They are making this PW movie and I think Reese Witherspoon should play the part. (By the by, Sweet Tulsa and PW are both from Oklahoma, which speaks well of OK.)
I hadn't checked PW'S website lately, so after dinner I looked her up to see what she had to say about the movie. She had stuff to say, naturally, but as I scrolled down, there was a picture of Reese Witherspoon. Ha, ha, why can't I be a consultant or something? I'm always a step behind and NOT in the know except in my own head where it doesn't do me any good at all. It just leaves me feeling limp.
But it's true, if you read on the website Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, you will know yourself immediately that only Reese W. could take this part and bring it to perfect life. PW and RW seem to have the same personality, at least the parts RW plays in her funny movies seem exactly like PW. Anyway, I think the movie is a ways off as PW has to first finish writing the book. Meanwhile, she cranks out her website like there's no tomorrow, and CDW and I simply don't understand it unless she has a staff of ten.
Speaking of CDW, we need to pray for her dear sweet precious little mother who is in the hospital. She has had a few spells before, so it is a worry at her age. CDW'S mother is right up there with about five women I've known in my life who made me go, I want to be like Mrs. Anderson (CDW'S mother). Or Mrs. Caldwell, Crissy's mother. Or Sue B.'s mother. Or Crissy's cousin, Carol (that's really good, two ladies in one family). Some people are just born with it. In Reminisce magazine there was a picture of these two sisters, one was a baby, the other about 5 years old. The five year old had THE SWEETEST little face ever, angelic, really, absolutely heavenly, not a mite of guile in that cherub. The caption was written by the angel's son. He said, EVERYONE loved my mother. I believe it. Anyway, these women I've mentioned, some of them had a gentleness and kindness that was profound and stopped you in your tracks. A couple of the others had a bubbling joy that was contagious. I find it very pleasant to know people like that to emulate.
Going to go eat the rest of the coleslaw, even though it will be in some stage of limpness. Maybe I'll wash it down with a flat biscuit. Man, I could mail those biscuits in an envelope. I think I'll go and see if PW has a biscuit recipe. HERS would turn out high and fluffy.
Limping Along KEM, who, however, is enjoying her new brown hair with body (meaning, not limp . . . yet)
So, everything in life seems to go limp eventually, at varying rates of speed of course, depending upon what we're talking about. For instance, my sheets seem to go limp after about 4 nights sleep. In fact, they begin to feel like oilcloth. Or my pastry cloth after rolling out one too many pie crusts. Well, maybe oily isn't limp, but it's the same idea of wilt. Once at summer camp, month-long camp, I was a counselor, all decked out in a home-made dress, pale pink sleeveless silky dress with a little sheer flowered jacket thingy, I forget what you call it. Anyway, it was HOT at camp, no AC or anything. This was Sunday after church at lunch, the best meal of the week, and I was serving tables. I walked into the kitchen to pick up a bowl of rice and this fellow counselor said, You look like a . . . wilted flower. THANK YOU VERY MUCH, not the picture I was going for.
Hey, I made biscuits tonight and the dough was limp. My biscuits don't like to rise. I use non-aluminum baking powder, is that's what's wrong? Anyway, the dough was too wet and saggy and of course I wound up with flat disc-y biscuits. They tasted good because I used that marvelous pastry flour, which I bought to make Pioneer Woman's Best Ever Pancakes (which the second time I made them they were completely different, did I tell you that?, not as good, of course, when I had company).
Speaking of Pioneer Woman, Sweet Tulsa tells me today that she saw where they are going to make a movie of PW'S love story. Sweet Tulsa amazes me, she is so in the know. I said, Not surprised, it's a great story and I wonder who will play the part of PW? So, I digested that through the day and at dinner (fried chicken, mashed taters, COLE SLAW and apple sauce and FLAT biscuits) I mentioned to Mike, They are making this PW movie and I think Reese Witherspoon should play the part. (By the by, Sweet Tulsa and PW are both from Oklahoma, which speaks well of OK.)
I hadn't checked PW'S website lately, so after dinner I looked her up to see what she had to say about the movie. She had stuff to say, naturally, but as I scrolled down, there was a picture of Reese Witherspoon. Ha, ha, why can't I be a consultant or something? I'm always a step behind and NOT in the know except in my own head where it doesn't do me any good at all. It just leaves me feeling limp.
But it's true, if you read on the website Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, you will know yourself immediately that only Reese W. could take this part and bring it to perfect life. PW and RW seem to have the same personality, at least the parts RW plays in her funny movies seem exactly like PW. Anyway, I think the movie is a ways off as PW has to first finish writing the book. Meanwhile, she cranks out her website like there's no tomorrow, and CDW and I simply don't understand it unless she has a staff of ten.
Speaking of CDW, we need to pray for her dear sweet precious little mother who is in the hospital. She has had a few spells before, so it is a worry at her age. CDW'S mother is right up there with about five women I've known in my life who made me go, I want to be like Mrs. Anderson (CDW'S mother). Or Mrs. Caldwell, Crissy's mother. Or Sue B.'s mother. Or Crissy's cousin, Carol (that's really good, two ladies in one family). Some people are just born with it. In Reminisce magazine there was a picture of these two sisters, one was a baby, the other about 5 years old. The five year old had THE SWEETEST little face ever, angelic, really, absolutely heavenly, not a mite of guile in that cherub. The caption was written by the angel's son. He said, EVERYONE loved my mother. I believe it. Anyway, these women I've mentioned, some of them had a gentleness and kindness that was profound and stopped you in your tracks. A couple of the others had a bubbling joy that was contagious. I find it very pleasant to know people like that to emulate.
Going to go eat the rest of the coleslaw, even though it will be in some stage of limpness. Maybe I'll wash it down with a flat biscuit. Man, I could mail those biscuits in an envelope. I think I'll go and see if PW has a biscuit recipe. HERS would turn out high and fluffy.
Limping Along KEM, who, however, is enjoying her new brown hair with body (meaning, not limp . . . yet)
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Congratulations to my friend who is expecting her third child!!! She is overjoyed!!! And we are with her!
Well, six weeks of carroty-orange hair is now swallowed up in ordinary brown hair, with a hint of ash, or is that ashe? I have to tell you, I REALLY didn't like my hair carroty orange, especially not with jet black eyebrows, not that I have much in the way of eyebrows. Still, some things in life you just don't mess with.
I went back to Fantastic Sam's, clutching another coupon. The German girl who had inflicted this orange hair upon me, the innocent, had just gone home, so I took the Asian lady sitting there. She said red hair was hard to get rid of (groovy). I'm having fun tonight ending sentences with prepositions, see? So, she had to go with some ash, which was scary because my sister always said, Ash is to be avoided at all costs. But anymore, ash sounded better than carrots.
There was a girl walking toward Fantastic Sam's in the parking lot and I beat her to the door, not obnoxiously or anything. No sooner had I sat down, which was instantly, than five more people walked in. So that made 6 waiting for a turn, but the parking lot girl left. Talk about ol' KEM slipping right in under the wire. I was wearing my Kat in the Hat hat because what is worse than carroty-orange hair if it isn't being pushed out of your scalp by solid grey? I could have matched Earl Grey, come to think of it, only he's slightly cuter. Really, a sinus infection and bands of grey and orange hair at the same time are enough to make you wonder why your husband married you. I wonder if he wonders that. Of course, only yesterday I read in the paper that grey and yellow combo is the latest and greatest in decorating trends, just not on your head and just not grey and ORANGE.
Did not sleep last night. So, after I report the excellent news that my nephew's surgery went really well, I am eating a bowl of Cheerios with sugar and going upstairs. My sister said they took my poor nephew's collar bones out and cleaned them. Hmmm. I picture an old jolly washer woman with long apron and cap sitting on a stool, standing the bones in a bucket of bleach in front of her and scrubbing away all the while singing a merry tune. Somehow, I don't think that's how it went. But however it went, the poor little guy (age 14) is in excruciating pain (making allowance that his pain threshold is non-existent, which I think he inherited from his Aunt KEM).
I found out what really happened, he had jumped off this roof outdoors two times successfully and it was the third time that was the "charm." Isn't it always? And his friend was videotaping this amazing act, but my sister doesn't have the nerve yet to watch it. This is some new weird sport invented somewhere far away, it involves various things, including jumping off roofs (or is that rooves?), I guess. She told me the name of it, but I can't remember. All I know is it rhymes with Hardcore. Because I repeated it to her as Hardcore and she said, No. But it does rhyme with Hardcore, it just isn't Hardcore, it's Parcor or something. It sounds pretty Hardcore to me, rolling off roofs.
Now I know why Anne of Green Gables did not appreciate her carroty-orange hair, even though I thought orange hair was made for her.
Can you tell I've had no sleep?
Ordinary KEM of Flaxen Locks
Well, six weeks of carroty-orange hair is now swallowed up in ordinary brown hair, with a hint of ash, or is that ashe? I have to tell you, I REALLY didn't like my hair carroty orange, especially not with jet black eyebrows, not that I have much in the way of eyebrows. Still, some things in life you just don't mess with.
I went back to Fantastic Sam's, clutching another coupon. The German girl who had inflicted this orange hair upon me, the innocent, had just gone home, so I took the Asian lady sitting there. She said red hair was hard to get rid of (groovy). I'm having fun tonight ending sentences with prepositions, see? So, she had to go with some ash, which was scary because my sister always said, Ash is to be avoided at all costs. But anymore, ash sounded better than carrots.
There was a girl walking toward Fantastic Sam's in the parking lot and I beat her to the door, not obnoxiously or anything. No sooner had I sat down, which was instantly, than five more people walked in. So that made 6 waiting for a turn, but the parking lot girl left. Talk about ol' KEM slipping right in under the wire. I was wearing my Kat in the Hat hat because what is worse than carroty-orange hair if it isn't being pushed out of your scalp by solid grey? I could have matched Earl Grey, come to think of it, only he's slightly cuter. Really, a sinus infection and bands of grey and orange hair at the same time are enough to make you wonder why your husband married you. I wonder if he wonders that. Of course, only yesterday I read in the paper that grey and yellow combo is the latest and greatest in decorating trends, just not on your head and just not grey and ORANGE.
Did not sleep last night. So, after I report the excellent news that my nephew's surgery went really well, I am eating a bowl of Cheerios with sugar and going upstairs. My sister said they took my poor nephew's collar bones out and cleaned them. Hmmm. I picture an old jolly washer woman with long apron and cap sitting on a stool, standing the bones in a bucket of bleach in front of her and scrubbing away all the while singing a merry tune. Somehow, I don't think that's how it went. But however it went, the poor little guy (age 14) is in excruciating pain (making allowance that his pain threshold is non-existent, which I think he inherited from his Aunt KEM).
I found out what really happened, he had jumped off this roof outdoors two times successfully and it was the third time that was the "charm." Isn't it always? And his friend was videotaping this amazing act, but my sister doesn't have the nerve yet to watch it. This is some new weird sport invented somewhere far away, it involves various things, including jumping off roofs (or is that rooves?), I guess. She told me the name of it, but I can't remember. All I know is it rhymes with Hardcore. Because I repeated it to her as Hardcore and she said, No. But it does rhyme with Hardcore, it just isn't Hardcore, it's Parcor or something. It sounds pretty Hardcore to me, rolling off roofs.
Now I know why Anne of Green Gables did not appreciate her carroty-orange hair, even though I thought orange hair was made for her.
Can you tell I've had no sleep?
Ordinary KEM of Flaxen Locks
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Surgery at 11:00 AM, Thursday. Happy to report my nephew's spirits are rising. Will be glad when this little ordeal is behind us, whew!
Looking at my yearbooks again, mainly because I had left them on bedroom floor for the last two weeks. I will pass on some of the more extraordinary entries, spelling and grammar intact.
In one yearbook I was in 7th grade and a 5th grade friend wrote this delightful poem:
If you see a
monkey in a tree,
Don't throw a
stick it might be me.
From E.R.
I will be sure not to throw any sticks at any monkeys in any trees, in the event it might be E.R.
Another 5th grader, who happened to be my sister, writes:
Kathy,
I like having you for a sister. Love in Christ, Laura.
Well, that's good news, who would have thunk it way back when?
Another 5th grader, I believe:
Kathy,
It was nice being your best friend while it lasted. H.
Or maybe that was an eighth grader. Truly, I have no recollection of this short and sweet best friendship.
Moving on to my grade:
Kathy,
Though your tasks are many,
And your rewards are few,
Remember the mighty oak,
Was once a nut like you.
Love always,
B.H.
I really can't think of truer words by a mere mortal.
One of my best friends, she and Crissy and I formed a tight trio, is honest:
We've had a lot of fights, but you're a real sweet girl and I'll always like you. Gravytrain
I think that's a worthy sentiment, mingling the bad with the good and letting the good come out on top, worthy of remembering to this very day. Gravytrain was a real original, need to blog about her.
Next year book, 8th grade.
Kathy,
Your really nice! a just wait when you get both braces off you'll be almost perfect! T.P.
Well, there's a sunny view. That would be teeth braces and the wicked back brace. Almost perfection still is over the distant horizon, however.
This one cracks me up:
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Mark Spitz could learn
alot from you.
One of these days I will get over to see you. And you can count on that. D.
This because I was on the swim team. D. never came to see me. Lesson: Don't count on what people write in your yearbook in the 8th grade.
This time my sister signs the following in a corner in cursive:
Laura Garrett
I guess her affection had waned, although she did trouble herself to section her signature off with green ink (the signature itself was in blue).
Hmmm, here's an interesting one along the sisterly lines:
Kathy,
I think you're a really nice girl. Sometime, (I know it mean) I wish you were my sister instead of C. I hope you come over this summer alot. N.
In other words, if you're feeling down, just whip out your old yearbooks and you won't believe your former self. No recollection whatsoever. The best therapy around.
Here's a mystery:
the Great
13B
And His flyin'
BULTACO
The 13B was done with artistic embellishment.
And, finally,
Roses are red,
Lillies are white,
Here's my name,
To prove I can write!
W.R. (alias Fred)
Fred was the last half of her first name. Can you imagine a 21st century 8th grader writing such a thing? I didn't think so.
Well, life is something else, ain't it?
A puffed up KEM
Looking at my yearbooks again, mainly because I had left them on bedroom floor for the last two weeks. I will pass on some of the more extraordinary entries, spelling and grammar intact.
In one yearbook I was in 7th grade and a 5th grade friend wrote this delightful poem:
If you see a
monkey in a tree,
Don't throw a
stick it might be me.
From E.R.
I will be sure not to throw any sticks at any monkeys in any trees, in the event it might be E.R.
Another 5th grader, who happened to be my sister, writes:
Kathy,
I like having you for a sister. Love in Christ, Laura.
Well, that's good news, who would have thunk it way back when?
Another 5th grader, I believe:
Kathy,
It was nice being your best friend while it lasted. H.
Or maybe that was an eighth grader. Truly, I have no recollection of this short and sweet best friendship.
Moving on to my grade:
Kathy,
Though your tasks are many,
And your rewards are few,
Remember the mighty oak,
Was once a nut like you.
Love always,
B.H.
I really can't think of truer words by a mere mortal.
One of my best friends, she and Crissy and I formed a tight trio, is honest:
We've had a lot of fights, but you're a real sweet girl and I'll always like you. Gravytrain
I think that's a worthy sentiment, mingling the bad with the good and letting the good come out on top, worthy of remembering to this very day. Gravytrain was a real original, need to blog about her.
Next year book, 8th grade.
Kathy,
Your really nice! a just wait when you get both braces off you'll be almost perfect! T.P.
Well, there's a sunny view. That would be teeth braces and the wicked back brace. Almost perfection still is over the distant horizon, however.
This one cracks me up:
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Mark Spitz could learn
alot from you.
One of these days I will get over to see you. And you can count on that. D.
This because I was on the swim team. D. never came to see me. Lesson: Don't count on what people write in your yearbook in the 8th grade.
This time my sister signs the following in a corner in cursive:
Laura Garrett
I guess her affection had waned, although she did trouble herself to section her signature off with green ink (the signature itself was in blue).
Hmmm, here's an interesting one along the sisterly lines:
Kathy,
I think you're a really nice girl. Sometime, (I know it mean) I wish you were my sister instead of C. I hope you come over this summer alot. N.
In other words, if you're feeling down, just whip out your old yearbooks and you won't believe your former self. No recollection whatsoever. The best therapy around.
Here's a mystery:
the Great
13B
And His flyin'
BULTACO
The 13B was done with artistic embellishment.
And, finally,
Roses are red,
Lillies are white,
Here's my name,
To prove I can write!
W.R. (alias Fred)
Fred was the last half of her first name. Can you imagine a 21st century 8th grader writing such a thing? I didn't think so.
Well, life is something else, ain't it?
A puffed up KEM
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Today my nephew was having fun in a gym, rock climbing and such. He ran and jumped off a wall and then rolled . . . and broke his collar bone. In two, completely severed. He is in a lot of pain, the bones are overlapping, and will have to have surgery.
And to think he was so happy just minutes before when getting dropped off at the gym. But the saddest thing is his dream to become a fighter pilot just went down the tubes. This is tough, it makes me feel terrible. Please, I ask for more prayers for my sister and her husband, for nephew and surgery. I pray God will help nephew see that this is not the end, even though it looks like it to a 14 year old. And this on top of last year when he was skate boarding and a car hit him. Thank you.
I am experiencing a relapse today so will bid you farewell and go curl up with Reminisce.
KEM
And to think he was so happy just minutes before when getting dropped off at the gym. But the saddest thing is his dream to become a fighter pilot just went down the tubes. This is tough, it makes me feel terrible. Please, I ask for more prayers for my sister and her husband, for nephew and surgery. I pray God will help nephew see that this is not the end, even though it looks like it to a 14 year old. And this on top of last year when he was skate boarding and a car hit him. Thank you.
I am experiencing a relapse today so will bid you farewell and go curl up with Reminisce.
KEM
Monday, March 15, 2010
Hello. I have nothing original, clever or even remotely entertaining to offer tonight. I shall give the floor to Newt Gingrich instead. In reference to the desperate tactics of certain desperate politicians to pass the desperate health care plan ASAP, Gingrich says:
We've gone from passing bills without reading them to passing bills without voting on them.
WHAT?!?!? Yes, that's right, the plan is to jam health care down our throats in any which unConstitutional way they can connive, even without a vote. WITHOUT A VOTE?? On something of this magnitude?? Are they kidding us?? HAVE YOU EVER?? And that won't be difficult to do, jamming it down our throats, since we'll all be standing around with our mouths agape in profound disbelief. HAVE YOU EVER?? Hear ye, hear ye, what is happening in and to America these days? If you don't like what's happening, we only have two or so days to get on the phones and call our elected representatives. If we don't act in haste we will be repenting in leisure, beyond a doubt. God, have mercy, please. God's mercies are such a joy, aren't they, in times of dismay.
Thank you all for praying for me. I felt better today, hope I didn't overdo it, you know, cleaning the dang exhaust fan in the bathroom again -- I got demoralized looking at the huge clumps of lint that fell down into the glass globe within two seconds of cleaning that thing a few months ago. Your head about snaps off backwards fighting to get the glass cover off, until, that is, you call your Mighty Husband. Oh, yes, and I bleached the kitchen sink and then washed by hand in that sink DTD'S delicate sweater and the foam under layer from my ironing board cover. Don't ask. PLUS, there are clean sheets awaiting me. AND a new Reminisce Magazine came in the mail today, boy, I love that magazine. Our friends gave us a subscription and it's so much fun, really brings the good old days back to life. Okay, I'm hongry, too. Nature's Path Frozen Organic Buckwheat Wildberry Waffles sound doable. One of these days I plan on writing stories again on the blog . . . one of these days . . . I might be waiting until one of these days becomes a good old day . . . if I wait much longer . . .
KEM of two egg custards a day and a semi laid-back persuasion, but only on certain things
We've gone from passing bills without reading them to passing bills without voting on them.
WHAT?!?!? Yes, that's right, the plan is to jam health care down our throats in any which unConstitutional way they can connive, even without a vote. WITHOUT A VOTE?? On something of this magnitude?? Are they kidding us?? HAVE YOU EVER?? And that won't be difficult to do, jamming it down our throats, since we'll all be standing around with our mouths agape in profound disbelief. HAVE YOU EVER?? Hear ye, hear ye, what is happening in and to America these days? If you don't like what's happening, we only have two or so days to get on the phones and call our elected representatives. If we don't act in haste we will be repenting in leisure, beyond a doubt. God, have mercy, please. God's mercies are such a joy, aren't they, in times of dismay.
Thank you all for praying for me. I felt better today, hope I didn't overdo it, you know, cleaning the dang exhaust fan in the bathroom again -- I got demoralized looking at the huge clumps of lint that fell down into the glass globe within two seconds of cleaning that thing a few months ago. Your head about snaps off backwards fighting to get the glass cover off, until, that is, you call your Mighty Husband. Oh, yes, and I bleached the kitchen sink and then washed by hand in that sink DTD'S delicate sweater and the foam under layer from my ironing board cover. Don't ask. PLUS, there are clean sheets awaiting me. AND a new Reminisce Magazine came in the mail today, boy, I love that magazine. Our friends gave us a subscription and it's so much fun, really brings the good old days back to life. Okay, I'm hongry, too. Nature's Path Frozen Organic Buckwheat Wildberry Waffles sound doable. One of these days I plan on writing stories again on the blog . . . one of these days . . . I might be waiting until one of these days becomes a good old day . . . if I wait much longer . . .
KEM of two egg custards a day and a semi laid-back persuasion, but only on certain things
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Jesus saith unto him (Thomas), I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me. John 14:6
I think that's a really important verse to remember in these days when so many people are deluded into believing that everyone can find their own way to God, all paths lead to God, etc. No, they can't, and no, they don't. Jesus is the only way. His sacrificial death on the cross is pointless if He is not the only way to the Father. I pray we will all have our eyes opened to the real truth and not be victims of watered down "truth" or outright false religious teachings, which are both tools of Satan. Please, dear friends, may we all go to the Scriptures as our source of truth. There are absolutes and anything else is going to leave us in a free fall.
In love Jesus came to us and in love we spread His message. Truth is love. God's Word is truth. Jesus is the Word. The Word is love. Jesus is love, do we hear His voice? I want and need to be more receptive and submissive to God's Word.
At boarding school we had to memorize and recite John 14. It's a beautiful chapter, so is chapter 15.
KEM
I think that's a really important verse to remember in these days when so many people are deluded into believing that everyone can find their own way to God, all paths lead to God, etc. No, they can't, and no, they don't. Jesus is the only way. His sacrificial death on the cross is pointless if He is not the only way to the Father. I pray we will all have our eyes opened to the real truth and not be victims of watered down "truth" or outright false religious teachings, which are both tools of Satan. Please, dear friends, may we all go to the Scriptures as our source of truth. There are absolutes and anything else is going to leave us in a free fall.
In love Jesus came to us and in love we spread His message. Truth is love. God's Word is truth. Jesus is the Word. The Word is love. Jesus is love, do we hear His voice? I want and need to be more receptive and submissive to God's Word.
At boarding school we had to memorize and recite John 14. It's a beautiful chapter, so is chapter 15.
KEM
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
