Lord,
We invite you into our house.
We desire for Your presence to be with us always.
Please fill these rooms with Your love, every corner with Your peace and each moment here with Your joy.
May this be a place where we live in Your grace and may all who enter here be blessed by You in a special way.
We commit this house to you and we ask that you truly make it a home as we live, laugh, and love together.
Amen.
(lovingly borrowed from the folks at Dayspring)
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Mamma Mia!
Handsome and I saw this musical when it was in Denver this past May. It was such a HOOT! The energy of the cast was palpable. The costumes were amazing.
But the singing, oh wow, was terrific! The producers said that the songs were just waiting for the musical to be written, even though they were conceived years apart.
I'm not a die hard ABBA fan, so I didn't know all their songs by heart. But I did totally groove out to the ones I knew (hello? Dancing Queen?)
This past Monday I went with several girlfriends to go see the movie. It was set in Greece so the scenery alone was breathtaking.
The movie did not disappoint. It followed the musical quite closely and the actors were all adorable. I particularly adore Christine Baranski, although in this movie, it seems her nose was approaching Michael Jackson proportions. What is up with that?
There were moments in the movie I thought Meryl Streep looked super great (she turned 59 this summer) but there were some shots that made her look just old. It was sad to see. I mean, she's a knockout, really. I thought she was fantastic in Manchurian Candidate and inspiring in Angels in America. I felt like this movie wasn't her best, but damn, at least they could've made her SHINE!
Oh, and I totally fell in love all over again with Pierce Brosnan. Yum.
But the singing, oh wow, was terrific! The producers said that the songs were just waiting for the musical to be written, even though they were conceived years apart.
I'm not a die hard ABBA fan, so I didn't know all their songs by heart. But I did totally groove out to the ones I knew (hello? Dancing Queen?)
This past Monday I went with several girlfriends to go see the movie. It was set in Greece so the scenery alone was breathtaking.
The movie did not disappoint. It followed the musical quite closely and the actors were all adorable. I particularly adore Christine Baranski, although in this movie, it seems her nose was approaching Michael Jackson proportions. What is up with that?
There were moments in the movie I thought Meryl Streep looked super great (she turned 59 this summer) but there were some shots that made her look just old. It was sad to see. I mean, she's a knockout, really. I thought she was fantastic in Manchurian Candidate and inspiring in Angels in America. I felt like this movie wasn't her best, but damn, at least they could've made her SHINE!
Oh, and I totally fell in love all over again with Pierce Brosnan. Yum.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Are we ALL having fertility issues?
Handsome and I have been on the "practicing for baby" train for some time now. It's been fun! Of course, he seems to think it's a "quantity" issue, while I'm concerned it's a "quality" issue. We have yet to know the definitive answer to this question. I am not worried in the least about it!
Last night, I showed him the multitude of flowers on the squash and zucchini plants in a container we have in the yard. (I do container gardening because it's easy, controllable and easy.) The container has a couple yellow squash plants and one zucchini plant. We finally have a zucchini that is growing happily amongst the leaves and flowers in the container.
Handsome was awed. He said "Ah, we have a child!"
Then I cracked up.
The squash plants are not so productive. They have big showy flowers but haven't produced any fruit. I dutifully water them, love on them, whisper sweet nothings to them out of earshot of the peppers, but still - nothing but flowers.
Of course, I went to my trusty source for all garden information - the internet. The internet tells me that I may only have male squash flowers. The girls aren't out. (Yet?)
So tomorrow morning, I have to really look at all the flowers to determine if any of them are actually female, or if this is container is strictly boystown. If I find female flowers, I have to pretend I'm a bee.
I will actually have to pollinate the girl flowers with the boy flower parts so that they get their act together and PRODUCE ME SOME BABIES!
Ahem. I mean squash.
::sigh:: I hope the cucumbers learn from this experience.
Last night, I showed him the multitude of flowers on the squash and zucchini plants in a container we have in the yard. (I do container gardening because it's easy, controllable and easy.) The container has a couple yellow squash plants and one zucchini plant. We finally have a zucchini that is growing happily amongst the leaves and flowers in the container.
Handsome was awed. He said "Ah, we have a child!"
Then I cracked up.
The squash plants are not so productive. They have big showy flowers but haven't produced any fruit. I dutifully water them, love on them, whisper sweet nothings to them out of earshot of the peppers, but still - nothing but flowers.
Of course, I went to my trusty source for all garden information - the internet. The internet tells me that I may only have male squash flowers. The girls aren't out. (Yet?)
So tomorrow morning, I have to really look at all the flowers to determine if any of them are actually female, or if this is container is strictly boystown. If I find female flowers, I have to pretend I'm a bee.
I will actually have to pollinate the girl flowers with the boy flower parts so that they get their act together and PRODUCE ME SOME BABIES!
Ahem. I mean squash.
::sigh:: I hope the cucumbers learn from this experience.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Alaskan Adventures
Several summers ago, I took a trip to Alaska. My great aunts and uncles used to live in Fairbanks. When my great aunt and uncle were in their 50s, they decided to leave the life they'd known and travel to the greatest state in the north to join their brother and sister-in-law in the wild life of the frontier.
I can't even imagine doing anything so life-changing at 50. I'll get back to you when I'm 50 and tell you how boring my life is then.
I flew up to Fairbanks the day of the summer solstice. I got up at something like 4:00 a.m. Denver time and arrived in Fairbanks, via layovers in Seattle and Anchorage, around 3:45 p.m. Just in time for a midnight golf tournament. Seriously, we had a 9:00 p.m. tee time and in my bleary-eyed state, I drove the golf cart with a box of wine beside me until 3:00 a.m. when our scramble was over.
What? What day is it? What TIME is it?
It never got dark that night, or any of the nights I was visiting. It was weird, because we were staying in a house that was being rennovated and I was the only one sleeping in it. The rest of the folks had their own motorhomes. So the windows of the house were covered in black plastic trash bags to keep the light out in the middle of the night.
There was a beautiful twilight sun-dip every night. There were huge flowers and vegetables which just loved all the sunlight. People started their gardens in greenhouses to take advantage of the growing daylight hours in the springtime. Lots of mosquitoes and other chirruping bugs.
Seeing as how I was used to sleeping, you know, in the dark, I had some troubles adjusting to light nightimes. So I would get up and go carouse the neighborhood. Sometimes the dogs would bark, and I would shush them. I encountered no other animals in my ventures.
In fact, I saw no moose or bear the entire trip. I thought all the advertisements were misleading!
My great uncle and great aunt built a "cabin up the river" which we attempted to visit that summer. For me, the term "cabin" evokes an image of logs and cozy nights around a pot-bellied stove and getting real friendly with your cabin-mates. From the pictures I've seen, this cabin could house a sorority. It looks fantastic and spacious and perfect for the true getaway.
Unfortunately, due to river water levels, we didn't make it to the cabin that summer.
With the health of my great-uncle failing, I doubt I'll ever see the cabin now. That makes me sad.
The entire trip was blissfully relaxing and stunningly beautiful. I loved it so much that when Handsome and I decided to get married, we honeymooned on a cruise around the Inside Passage.
However, that is a post for another day, as cruising the Inside Passage is nothing at all like driving around a Fairbanks golf course at 2:30 a.m. with a box of wine by your side.
I can't even imagine doing anything so life-changing at 50. I'll get back to you when I'm 50 and tell you how boring my life is then.
I flew up to Fairbanks the day of the summer solstice. I got up at something like 4:00 a.m. Denver time and arrived in Fairbanks, via layovers in Seattle and Anchorage, around 3:45 p.m. Just in time for a midnight golf tournament. Seriously, we had a 9:00 p.m. tee time and in my bleary-eyed state, I drove the golf cart with a box of wine beside me until 3:00 a.m. when our scramble was over.
What? What day is it? What TIME is it?
It never got dark that night, or any of the nights I was visiting. It was weird, because we were staying in a house that was being rennovated and I was the only one sleeping in it. The rest of the folks had their own motorhomes. So the windows of the house were covered in black plastic trash bags to keep the light out in the middle of the night.
There was a beautiful twilight sun-dip every night. There were huge flowers and vegetables which just loved all the sunlight. People started their gardens in greenhouses to take advantage of the growing daylight hours in the springtime. Lots of mosquitoes and other chirruping bugs.
Seeing as how I was used to sleeping, you know, in the dark, I had some troubles adjusting to light nightimes. So I would get up and go carouse the neighborhood. Sometimes the dogs would bark, and I would shush them. I encountered no other animals in my ventures.
In fact, I saw no moose or bear the entire trip. I thought all the advertisements were misleading!
My great uncle and great aunt built a "cabin up the river" which we attempted to visit that summer. For me, the term "cabin" evokes an image of logs and cozy nights around a pot-bellied stove and getting real friendly with your cabin-mates. From the pictures I've seen, this cabin could house a sorority. It looks fantastic and spacious and perfect for the true getaway.
Unfortunately, due to river water levels, we didn't make it to the cabin that summer.
With the health of my great-uncle failing, I doubt I'll ever see the cabin now. That makes me sad.
The entire trip was blissfully relaxing and stunningly beautiful. I loved it so much that when Handsome and I decided to get married, we honeymooned on a cruise around the Inside Passage.
However, that is a post for another day, as cruising the Inside Passage is nothing at all like driving around a Fairbanks golf course at 2:30 a.m. with a box of wine by your side.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
I think it was in the fine print
Sometimes in a marriage, you end up doing things that you never thought you would do before you got married.
Handsome has gotten a bloody nose a time or two and, somehow, our entire bathroom ends up looking like a war zone. If I were to post pictures, it would look like a slasher film. Scary, but I dealt with it, because that's what a spouse does.
Recently, I had, shall we say an "angry pore" in a location that I could not easily reach, or even see for that matter. But that pore surely made itself known to me. I let it be for at least a week when finally, I could not stand the pain and pressure caused by the pore.
I summoned Handsome. Popping his head into the bathroom he asked, "What's up?" I said "I need your help." I proceeded to tell him what he needed to do.
(I'm saving you from all the gory details; I'm sure you are very thankful!)
As he was assisting in the meticulousness that is required when dealing with an angry pore, he muttered under his breath "I did not sign up for this." And I giggled, thinking in a small way, this was exactly one of the reasons I married him!
And oh, the relief! So, thank you Handsome, for taking on a miniscule operative task which saved your wife fromtremendous pain and agony a bout of adult acne. You are my hero.
Handsome has gotten a bloody nose a time or two and, somehow, our entire bathroom ends up looking like a war zone. If I were to post pictures, it would look like a slasher film. Scary, but I dealt with it, because that's what a spouse does.
Recently, I had, shall we say an "angry pore" in a location that I could not easily reach, or even see for that matter. But that pore surely made itself known to me. I let it be for at least a week when finally, I could not stand the pain and pressure caused by the pore.
I summoned Handsome. Popping his head into the bathroom he asked, "What's up?" I said "I need your help." I proceeded to tell him what he needed to do.
(I'm saving you from all the gory details; I'm sure you are very thankful!)
As he was assisting in the meticulousness that is required when dealing with an angry pore, he muttered under his breath "I did not sign up for this." And I giggled, thinking in a small way, this was exactly one of the reasons I married him!
And oh, the relief! So, thank you Handsome, for taking on a miniscule operative task which saved your wife from
Thursday, July 17, 2008
My neverending quest for knowledge
I do not watch reality tv. I stopped watching reality tv looooong before The Real World came to my very own city. I probably haven't seen a talk show since Sally Jesse Raphael was hosting hers. Seriously!
Actually, I don't watch much tv in general. If I happen to be flipping through the channels without forethought on what I actually want to watch, there is only one program that I would actually watch regardless of whether it is new or a repeat: Alton Brown's Good Eats. Dang if I don't learn something new every single time I watch that show.
If that's not on, I may watch reruns of 90210 but that's only if my husband is out of the house. I saw that they are remaking this show using a new cast but same intro music (it really is unforgettable). I don't know how I feel about that. The kids who may watch the remake are much too young to remember the original and with all the extra drama they've been exposed to in their lives, it simply will not have the same impact it did on mine.
Anyway, I could care less about what's going on in the lives of celebrities. I just don't care who the best singer/dancer/otherwise talented person is in the country. I'll hear them on the (country) music channel if they are that gifted.
I figure I have enough reality in my own life; watching it on tv is redundant. It doesn't even make me feel like "Jeez, I've got a pretty durn good life going on here! Look at these freaks!" It makes me feel like I just wasted a half hour when I could've beensweeping scrapbooking.
So, seeing the celebrity magazines laying on the table in our office copy room kind of, I don't know, insulted me. Who left them there? Why?
Then, for some reason, I started thinking about some articles I've read recently in our local paper. Specifically, the words the journalist uses and the target audience for which the journalist writes. I don't think they're all watching the same shows.
It made me realize that I didn't feel educated enough to read the paper without having a little dictionary nearby. So, I'm feeling dorky but really, we've all had a moment where we want to use a word but aren't sure if it's the right word in the right context. I'm going to throw a few out there.
Actually, I don't watch much tv in general. If I happen to be flipping through the channels without forethought on what I actually want to watch, there is only one program that I would actually watch regardless of whether it is new or a repeat: Alton Brown's Good Eats. Dang if I don't learn something new every single time I watch that show.
If that's not on, I may watch reruns of 90210 but that's only if my husband is out of the house. I saw that they are remaking this show using a new cast but same intro music (it really is unforgettable). I don't know how I feel about that. The kids who may watch the remake are much too young to remember the original and with all the extra drama they've been exposed to in their lives, it simply will not have the same impact it did on mine.
Anyway, I could care less about what's going on in the lives of celebrities. I just don't care who the best singer/dancer/otherwise talented person is in the country. I'll hear them on the (country) music channel if they are that gifted.
I figure I have enough reality in my own life; watching it on tv is redundant. It doesn't even make me feel like "Jeez, I've got a pretty durn good life going on here! Look at these freaks!" It makes me feel like I just wasted a half hour when I could've been
So, seeing the celebrity magazines laying on the table in our office copy room kind of, I don't know, insulted me. Who left them there? Why?
Then, for some reason, I started thinking about some articles I've read recently in our local paper. Specifically, the words the journalist uses and the target audience for which the journalist writes. I don't think they're all watching the same shows.
It made me realize that I didn't feel educated enough to read the paper without having a little dictionary nearby. So, I'm feeling dorky but really, we've all had a moment where we want to use a word but aren't sure if it's the right word in the right context. I'm going to throw a few out there.
Idiosyncrasy:Thus ends my tutorial of words for the day. Gosh, I feel smarter already!
- A structural or behavioral characteristic peculiar to an individual or group.
- A physiological or temperamental peculiarity.
- An unusual individual reaction to food or a drug.
Anachronism:Pragmatic:
- something or someone that is not in its correct historical or chronological time, esp. a thing or person that belongs to an earlier time: The sword is an anachronism in modern warfare.
- an error in chronology in which a person, object, event, etc., is assigned a date or period other than the correct one: To assign Michelangelo to the 14th century is an anachronism.
- of or pertaining to a practical point of view or practical considerations.
- Relating to or being the study of cause and effect in historical or political events with emphasis on the practical lessons to be learned from them.
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