Key to Reading the "Love Song"

I don't like raisins.

I consider it to be a great act of love when I make tuna for Lucy and David.

Spearmint gives me a headache.

http://fallingoutofthewardrobe.blogspot.com/2010/07/love-song.html

A Love(?) Song*

You're the raisin in my toast,

the tuna in my salad.

You are the chihuahua in my walk and the Rocky Road Ice Cream of my day.

You're the hazelnut cream in my coffee,

the red delicious apple of my eye.

You are the beautifully dressed salmon placed upon my dinner table.

You're the Nutri-Grain bar of my mornings,

the Kirsten Dunst of my evenings.

You are the Pepsi to my summer and the Egg Nog to my winter.

You're the spearmint in my garden,

the ballpoint pen of my musings.

You are the bbq chips to my party and the Sponge Bob of my playtime.

You are the magenta hue coloring my world.

* Song inspired by "I Love You" from the "Songs That Tickle Your Funny Bone" record I had growing up as a kid. Yes, I said record.

He Heard My Cry

If God hadn't been there for me, I never would have made it. The minute I said, "I'm slipping, I'm falling," your love, God, took hold and held me fast. When I was upset and beside myself, you calmed me down and cheered me up. Psalm 94:16-19 (The Message)

"I'm slipping, I'm falling...."
I cried this very thing to the Lord this weekend. I cried it out to a few trusted friends. Their answers of encouragement and prayers texted to me lifted me up and carried me through a busy weekend that was suddenly causing me unexplained and crippling fear.

But He heard my cries! And He was faithful! And I survived the weekend-even enjoyed it!

And while it doesn't make for the most interesting of blog posts, I simply couldn't let it go by without sharing my Thankfulness with you.

If It Quacks Like a Duck...

I haven't been writing.

My sister and I had a conversation about it.

I told her that each day that passes without me writing or blogging, I feel like a fish that is laying on a hot sidewalk shriveling up.

And then I realized in that conversation that I don't know how to spell shriveling.

I would like to spell it: Shrivelling

But the "sh" sound is too clean, I think it really should be schrivelling.

After suggesting that I spell it as I FELT it, I typed it to my sister as:

S C H R I V V E L L I N G

But I really doubt that's the right way to spell it.





I have no punch line for this story. Instead, a picture!!



This is a documenting of the fact that my friend Carol is an evil genius.

Carol and I have been trading a ceramic duck back and forth for over 8 years. We found it in a dollar store or some odd place like that. It killed us with hilarity so we bought it. She tells the story best here.

Michelle was given the lovely cross from a student when she was working at a local Christian school. Michelle and Carol soon had their own gift exchange going with Michelle and I sometimes collaborating together to try and get the duck and cross back in Carol's possession.

The day we went to dinner to celebrate the marriage of my sister to Michelle's "brother from another mother," Carol got us. She had the bride and groom give their sisters gifts of "appreciation" for "all of the hard work" they had done on the wedding. Mailed from Northern California to San Diego only a handful of days before and then wrapped lovingly by the bride, Carol turned our very family against us. (Do you see? The Evil?!)

And she got us. She got us good.

I think the only way I can get her back is to get pregnant, get her to be present for the delivery and somehow give birth to the duck. Who's the Evil Genius now?!