Wednesday, January 25, 2012
I'm the person who goes into a restaurant, sits down and patiently waits while the waitresses finish their visiting before taking my order.
I'm the person who goes into a department store and stands quietly while the clerks finish their little chit-chat.
I'm the person who drives into a service station and never blows the horn, but lets the attendant take his time.
You might say I'm the good guy or gal. But do you know who else I am?
I'm the customer who never comes back!
It amuses me to see business spending so much money every year to get me back---when I was there in the first place.
And all they needed to do was give me some service, and extend a little courtesy.
NOTE: This was in a newspaper many years ago (as you can tell by the "service station") and taken from the Grocers Journal of Southern California.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Today is day #12 of this challenge. So far I am doing okay. I have to "adjust" some of the exercises because of my medical issues. Cardio consists of walking on my treadmill, walking with Leslie, or doing Nicole's Cardio Blast DVD.
How is everyone else doing on this challenge?
Spark on everyone!!
Sunday, January 08, 2012
DH & I spent an enjoyable day yesterday in LA at the Mansfield Museum & site of a great Civil War battle. (We live in Texas right on the LA border so did not have too far to drive).
Looking at the rifles, cannons, uniforms, old letters to loved ones, etc. was interesting. I was surprised at the small size of the uniforms & boots. We were told that most soldiers were 5' 5' to 5' 6".
After a short film describing the battle, the museum staffer showed us a small box with medical instruments used for the soldiers wounds & discussed treatment, surgery for amputations, etc.
Many lives were lost, but the rebels pushed the Yankees back preventing them from coming into Texas at that time. This was the last great battle of the war.
We had beautiful weather, but were unable to walk the grounds & read all the plaques describing the battlefield as it was not paved & DH was in a wheelchair. If he gets the "scooter" that we have put in for, we will go back & go over the battlefield.
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
Mysterious Ways: The House of Prayer
My son was dying and I needed comfort so badly.
By Wanda Priddy, Pearcy, Arkansas
All I learned about prayer I learned at 218 Maylott Street. That was where I grew up, raised by my grandma, Mama.
I would lie in bed at night listening to Mama pray for me. “Lord, let Wanda know you are always with her.” Those comforting words stayed with me after I moved out.
It was the comfort I desperately sought at my youngest son Ronnie’s hospital bedside. He was very ill and not expected to make it through the night.
If only someone would pray for Ronnie the way Mama used to pray for me, I thought, holding his hand.
That evening a nurse walked in, one I’d never seen before. I looked up into her gentle hazel eyes, her calm presence filling the room. “I felt I needed to come here,” she said. “Would it be all right if I pray for you?”
“Of course,” I said, surprised. No other nurse had offered to do that for us. It was exactly what I’d wanted!
“Lord, be with this family tonight. Let them know you are always with them,” she said. Her words soothed me just the way Mama’s prayers had all those years ago. Then she slipped out of the room. A little while later Ronnie passed away peacefully.
After Ronnie’s funeral, I wanted to find the nurse to thank her for the comfort she brought to me. But no one seemed to know who she was. I kept searching for months, to no avail.
One morning I ran into a friend at the little dollar store in my neighborhood. I told her about the nurse who had prayed for my son. A clerk standing nearby spoke up. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said. “The person you described sounds just like a lady who worked here before she became a nurse. I’ll get her number for you.”
Could it really be the same woman? The minute I got into my car, I dialed the number. A woman answered. I told her who I was, and asked if she was the one who had prayed with me.
“That was me,” she confirmed.
“Thank you for the comfort you gave me,” I said. “Where do you live? I’d love to send you a little something.”
“Two-eighteen Maylott Street,” she said.
I almost dropped the phone. Mama’s house—a house still full of prayer
Sunday, January 01, 2012
We awoke at 2:30 AM to the alarm going off on the oxygen machine telling us the electricity was off. DH sleeps under oxygen for his COPD & I got up to come upstairs and get the portable unit which worked alright, but every 8 hours he needs electricity to use the nebulizer. Went out to the generator with flashlight & never could get it started. (Before trying the generator had to flip the big switch on the electric box, turn off the heating units upstairs & down, turn off the hot water heater, disconnect the computers & satellite, & get water in pots & bowls because we are on a community well & the water does not last long.) Went back to check on him several times (he, thankfully, had gone back to sleep), kept trying to pull the generator to come on with no luck, took the dog out & fed the cats.
Anyway, the lights came back on about 8:30.....YAY!! Now I am cooking my blackeye peas & cabbage for lunch and will start day #1 of my New Years Challenge this afternoon.
Will miss church as I am afraid I will go to sleep during the sermon. :)
Hope everyone has a good day!
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