The Reality of Christmas. Think about it.

There'll be parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting, and carolers out in the snow. There'll be scary ghost stories, and tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago. It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Ahhh! The Christmas season--I love it! I love the decorations, the sights, the smells, the music. I love it all. I truly think it is the most wonderful time of the year! When I was a kid, people used to tell me that I would "grow out" of Christmas and that the older I got, the less exciting the season would be for me. "Just wait until you're older when you have to drive in the snow and fight crowds to buy Christmas presents! Just wait until you have to frantically rush around at last minute to finish Christmas baking, wrapping presents, and cleaning the house for company! You won't think Christmas is so exciting then!"

All I have to say to those people is bah, humbug! I LOVE the busyness of the season! I love baking! I love finding just the right presents for my friends and family.  I love wrapping presents! And I'm pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. (It's my gift.) I love watching the shoppers pass by with their treasures! (I've always enjoyed people-watching.) I love going to Christmas programs. I love the music of the season. I love the lights. As I said, I love it all!

Maybe you're like me, and you love the Christmas season, too. Unfortunately, it's far too easy to get caught up in all the sights and smells and sounds of Christmas and forget the reality of Christmas. Oh, sure, we all appreciate the signs and decorations and Christmas cards that remind us, "Jesus is the reason for the season!"  However, how often do we stop and contemplate that statement? How often do we let the reality of Christmas really sink in and affect our outlook on the Christmas season? No Christian would deny that Jesus is the reason we celebrate Christmas, but are we inadvertently leaving Him out of our celebrations because we get too caught up in all the wonderful festivities that surround us at this time of year?

Don't worry. I don't believe at all that we should give up all the things we enjoy during this time of year. There's nothing wrong with these things. I'm just asking all of us to reflect--and I mean really, truly reflect--on what it meant for the world when Jesus was born. I believe that Jesus came to us as a little baby and grew up only to die in our place. But I'm like a lot of Christians: I believe it, but I don't always reflect on it as I should. It's very easy to believe something is true, but sometimes it's hard to make it a reality in our lives when it happened so very long ago.

This year our choir at church sang one of the most beautiful Christmas songs I have ever heard, "Candlelight Carol" by John Rutter. You can listen to it here. The third verse is my favorite:

Find him at Bethlehem laid in a manger:
Christ our redeemer asleep in the hay.
Godhead incarnate and hope of salvation:
A child with his mother that first Christmas day.

Just think about those words! I mean, really think about them:

Think about Christ our redeemer! According to the American Heritage Dictionary, to redeem something means "to set free; to rescue or ransom; to save from a state of sinfulness and its consequences; to make up for or compensate for; to restore the honor, worth, or reputation of." Christ redeemed us! We are unworthy to stand before the God of the universe. We are dirty, rotten sinners. We deserve to spend an eternity in hell. But Christ redeemed us! We don't have to spend an eternity in hell, separated from God! We can spend a glorious eternity in heaven, worshiping and adoring our Creator and Redeemer! Think about that.

Think about the Godhead incarnate! Incarnate means to be embodied in human form. The Godhead in human form! And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth! The Godhead incarnate: Christ as a little helpless baby, born to a poor, young virgin who had no place other than a feeding trough to lay her precious newborn. Christ spending 33 years on this earth, a fallen and wretched world, eventually suffering a death more horrendous and painful and humiliating than any of us will ever experience. Why would He be willing to do all of that for us?? Think about that.

A child with his mother that first Christmas day. Think about that and all that it encompasses this Christmas season.

O Holy Night

This post is for my Facebook friends who have been asking me to upload another dulcimer video to my FB page. Well, I've recently discovered that uploading videos to my blog is a WHOLE LOT faster than uploading them to my FB page! Sometimes it takes six or seven hours for me to get a short video clip uploaded to FB, but this took me only about three minutes!


"O Holy Night" has always been one of my favorite Christmas songs. This version I'm playing on my dulcimer was arranged by my favorite dulcimer player in the world, Larkin Bryant, who also happens to be my dear teacher. :-)

I was still learning the song when this video was made and I don't have any video editing software, so there are quite a few mistakes and I am playing it a bit too fast. But, anyhow, merry Christmas to my dear friends, and thank you for encouraging me in my attempts at learning the dulcimer. :-)

It's Beginning to Smell A Lot Like Christmas!

I love baking anytime, but Christmas baking is the best! I've already made a few of the Christmas "staples" with my roomies, but I decided to try a new cookie recipe tonight. These are called Ginger-Lemon Delights. The cookies are a sugar cookie base with molasses, ginger, clove, and cinnamon added. The icing is made from powdered sugar, lemon juice, and grated lemon peel. The "sprinkles" on top are crystalized ginger. The flavor is very exotic and is a little too rich for my taste, but according to my roomie, who really likes the cookies, "The taste hits your senses before the cookie even hits your mouth."

How to Get into the Christmas Spirit

Here are some pictures of some our Christmas decorations! And to think we actually thought about not decorating this year! Once we finished putting everything out, we were so glad that we did. It's amazing how having Christmas decorations up can put you in the Christmas spirit! If you haven't decorated your house for Christmas, do it NOW!! It's not too late! :-)

I love having a real fireplace with a mantel!

My favorite display

Our Christmas tree. :-) Among the three of us, we have just enough ornaments to decorate it.

Even the kitchen gets decked out for Christmas!

December Rain

I love going to sleep to the sound of rain. Tonight, as the rain hits my window, I hear the sound of a thousand horses galloping in the distance. I was inspired to write a haiku. :-)


Galloping horses
Tat-a-tat on my window.
My eyes close; I sleep.

Defining "Black Friday" to Foreign Exchange Students

I  have two foreign exchange students in my speech class this year. One is from Brazil and the other is from Germany. It's always interesting to hear their perspective on American culture. However, sometimes it's difficult to explain certain "Americanisms" to them.

The other day a few girls walked into speech class gabbing about how much they were looking forward to Black Friday. As my exchange student from Brazil listened in, I noticed a confused look on his face. Then I saw him mouth the words to another student, "What's Black Friday?" The other student couldn't tell what he was trying to ask him, so I piped up.

"Oh, are you wondering about Black Friday?"

"Mm-hm"

"Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving when the 'official' shopping season for Christmas starts. All the stores open extra early and they have really good prices, so the majority of Americans go shopping on that day."

"Oh. Okay. . . but why is it called 'Black Friday'?"

The other students in the class chime in, "Yeah! Why is it called that?"

I've never really heard why it's called "Black Friday," but the eyes of all my students were looking at me expecting an answer.  I decided to tell the students why I think the day is called "Black Friday."

"Well, I'm not positive without looking it up, but black usually represents death and my speculation is that it's called 'Black Friday' because people get killed on that day. I've heard of people who've been trampled to death by crowds of people rushing into Walmart to get the best deal on flat screen TVs."

A chorus of "Oh, yeah!! I heard about an old lady who got smooshed behind a door!" and "There was a man who got hit by a car in a parking lot, too!" and "Did you hear about the lady who . . . blah, blah, blah," swept across the room.

I looked over at the two exchange students. Looks of horrified shock and disgust had swept across their faces.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Uh, yes. Thank you."

And then the bell rang for class to begin.

I later found out that "Black Friday" is called such because it's a time when the stores bring in so much money, they are said to be "in the black," as opposed to "in the red." A few of my fellow teachers couldn't believe that I had given the reason I had to the students. I kind of felt bad after that because I was sure I had made America look horrible to these exchange students. HOWEVER, I don't feel so bad now because I found out that my definition of "Black Friday" was actually somewhat correct!! After doing some research, I discovered the phrase was coined in the 1960s by a police officer who had observed the horrible traffic accidents and mobs of people crushing other people on that day. It was only in more recent years that retailers decided to give a positive spin on the name by saying it was called "Black Friday" because sales were up so high on that day. Personally, I think the former definition is more fitting. :-)

The Perils of Making Hot Chocolate

This morning I woke up to a cold, dark, windy, rainy day and decided that today would be the perfect day for hot chocolate. My Facebook friends agreed, so I knew it must be a good idea. I tucked a couple packets of Kroger brand Dutch Cocoa into my purse to take along to school with me. (Kroger Dutch cocoa is much tastier than the Swiss Miss cocoa we have at school, in my opinion.)

I arrived at school and got all set up to watch my morning care kiddos; then I headed into the kitchen. I grabbed a styrofoam cup and emptied the contents of my cocoa packet into it. That was pretty easy. Then I took a spoon and headed around the corner to the hot water dispenser. I began filling my cup with the hot water. I must have been cold, because I got a shiver and my hand shook resulting in hot water pouring onto my left hand and down my sleeve. It was so hot that I quickly jumped which resulted in spilling all my hot chocolate down the front of my skirt and onto the floor. *sigh*

Naturally, I now have a dilemma. Do I run to the sink and flush my hand and arm with cold water, or do I first attempt to get the hot chocolate out of my skirt? Of course, I opted to save my skirt. I mean, I do have to wear it in front of judgmental high school kids for the remainder of the day! Fortunately, it's a black skirt, so it didn't take too long to hide the hot chocolate. So I got the hot chocolate out of my skirt,  got my hand and arm cooled off with some cold water, and got the mess cleaned up off the floor. But I still wanted hot chocolate. It's a good thing I was prepared and brought two packets!!

Let's try this again. Empty contents into cup--check. Dispense hot water into cup without spilling on yourself--check. Stir--check. Add marshmallows--uh-oh.

I don't always go for marshmallows in my hot chocolate (although I am quite the marshmallow connoiseur), but I figured after my ordeal I certainly deserved them. Mrs. Fleming knows I like marshmallows in my cocoa once in a while so she always keeps a bag on hand for me. (Okay, okay, I'm sure she doesn't buy them just for me, but it makes me feel special to think so.) Anyhow, I grabbed the bag of marshmallows. It had already been opened, but had been twisted shut with a baggie tie. I removed the baggie tie and started to untwist the bag. Before I knew what was happening, marshmallows were flying everywhere. (Did you know that marshmallows seem to have a little bounce to them???) Apparently the bag had been torn clear down the side and it only looked like it was closed up with a baggie tie. *sigh* At least the whole bag didn't spill.

Anyhow, after I cleaned up my mess, I carefully added marshmallows (the ones from the bag, not the floor) to my hot chocolate, which was now more like warm chocolate. So it took me a little while to get my hot chocolate made, and I had a few mishaps; but, boy, I must say that was some good hot chocolate!!

I Want a Leaf Globe

When I was a kid, I thought snow globes were so beautiful. Actually, I still think that. What's prettier than watching snow gently swirl quietly around a pretty winter landscape? You know--some pine trees, a deer or two, little red cardinals sitting on evergreen boughs, etc. Okay, okay, you're probably thinking that there are a lot of things prettier than that, but you catch my snowdrift.

Anyhow, as I was drivng home from church this afternoon, a brilliant idea popped into my head--at least, I think it's brilliant. Here it is:

Somebody needs to make a LEAF GLOBE.

That's right, my friends. . . a leaf globe. I was just struck by the sight, the sound, the smell of the leaves swirling around the pretty autumn landscape today. (Today was a bit breezy, I must say.) It was absolutely beautiful. And tonight coming home from church I observed the same scene, except everything was bathed in the light of the full moon. It was mesmerizing.

Of course, some modifications would have to be made to a leaf globe that a snow globe doesn't have. For instance, the leaf globe would need to make a rusltling sound as the leaves swirled. Snow is silent, but leaves are not. And you'd have to hear the howl of the wind. And it would need to smell like leaves. And it it would be really cool if it lit up to recreate moonbeams.

If anybody has any expertise in making snow globes, please try to make me a leaf globe. I want one. :-)  

A Delightful Day

This is a poem that was written for Rachel and me by Mama C.C, one the residents at the nursing home we play at. Our hearts are always blessed by her sweet, cheerful disposition. :-)

A Delightful Day

The seventeenth of September

Is a great day to remember;

For me, there can't be any other

Way for childless me to "mother."

Better then to give each special song

I once sang, to two sweet girls, who, long

After I am gone, will sing on!

                                                       Lovingly,

                                                                                                          Mama CC

Overcoming Writer's Block

Crazy buffaloes! It's been over a month since I last posted! I would apologize, but an apology would assume that I have done the world (or at least my readers) a disservice by not posting anything lately on my blog. In reality, I should probably apologize for the many minutes of your life that are wasted when I do actually post something new and you take the time to read it. However, for those of you who actually enjoy reading my blog, I apologize for the few seconds of your life that have been wasted lately when you've checked my blog only to find that there's not been anything new. This post is for you. :-)

So why haven't I posted anything lately? Well, to be honest, I've been busy. And being busy triggers my writer's block. How? Well, anytime I have a good idea to write about, I'm too busy to write about it. And then I forget it. The obvious solution to this problem would be to jot down my ideas as soon as I think of them and then go back later to write about them when I have the time, right? Of course. But the problem runs much deeper than not writing the ideas down as I think of them. . . I can't write the ideas down! I am incapable of writing the ideas down at the moment I think of them. You see, my problem is that my best ideas come at the most inopportune times: when I'm sleeping, walking, or showering.

Sometimes, I wake up thinking to myself, Wow, that was a good idea! I should write about that! But as soon as I think of that, my mind blanks and I totally forget what it was that was such a great idea. I used to be conviced that I never dream. Now, however, I'm convinced that I just plain forget all my dreams. On the other hand, sometimes at night as soon as my head hits the pillow, all kinds of great ideas rush to my mind. I could turn on my light and grab the notebook on my bedstand and write down the ideas as they come to me, but this solution means that I would never get any sleep. As soon as I wrote down an idea and turned the light off to go to sleep, another idea would pop into my head and I'd have to turn the lights on again to write it down. It would be a never ending cycle.

Walking always seems to generate good ideas in my head. Now, you'd think that it would be easy to write down ideas that I think of as I'm walking. Wrong. I am a very uncoordinated person. Walking and writing at the same time just doesn't work for me.

I've also noticed that I think of a lot of good ideas when I'm in the shower. Now, we all know that you can't take paper into the shower for obvious reasons. And by the time I get out of the shower and am all dried off, my ideas have left my head. I guess the obvious solution to this problem would be bathtub crayons. With bathtub crayons I could write my ideas all over the sides of the shower. Might not be a bad idea. . . but then my roommate who showers later could see all my ideas and steal them!! No, bathtub crayons are a bad idea.

Sigh. It seems the best solution to overcome writer's block is to write about writer's block itself. I guess that's what I just did.

New Posts Coming. . .

. . . eventually. I have a list of ideas to blog about, but blogging's not high on the priority list right now. Sleep, however, is.

This Day in History. . .

Okay, okay. So maybe it doesn't classify as history since it was only a year ago and I'm not really a famous or significant person, but one year ago today my wrist looked like this:

I normally don't like to toot my own horn, but what you may not know is that this funky looking wrist is the product of a sacrificial, heroic feat that should someday be included in the history books. On September 13th, 2010, Rachel and I were cruisin' along the trail at Freeman Park on the new Rollerblades my friends had bought me for my birthday. (Well, we weren't both on my Rollerblades; Rachel had her own pair. . . but you know what I mean.) After we had gone most of the length of the trail, we came to a hill. As we were descending the hill in high style, some elderly folks who must've been hard of hearing crossed our path. Not having enough time to stop and not wanting to run over them, Rachel and I risked our lives and purposely crashed into the side of the trail. The old people were safe!! We were heroes!!

Okay, okay. Maybe that's not exactly how it happened. Actually, the funky looking wrist is the product of my fear and stupidity, which is generally not a very good combination. Let's rewind to an hour before Rachel and I set out on our Rollerblading expedition. I was talking on the phone to my mom, telling her that Rachel and I were getting ready to go out Rollerblading.

"Oh, Honey! Do you have a helmet??"

"No, Mom. I'll be fine. I remember your tips on how to safely roll off a sled when I see I am about to hit a tree. I'll bet it works for Rollerblading, too."

"Okay. Well, do you have wrist guards? You don't want to break a wrist. You wouldn't be able to play the violin and dulcimer anymore."

"Mom, I'll be okay. If I fall, I'll make a point not to put my hands out to catch myself."

"How will you catch yourself then?"

"I'll just let my body fall and roll."

"Then you'll need a helmet, dear. I don't want you to break your fall with your head."

"Mom, I'll be fine. We'll go very slowly."

"Okay, Honey. You know I worry about you. Just be careful."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you, too, Sweetie."

So Rachel and I head out on our Rollerblades with no helmets or wrist guards. The trail at Freeman Park is pretty flat, so we were doing pretty well on the Rollerblades. About halfway around the trail, we stopped at a bench because I needed to adjust one of my Rollerblades. I sat down to make the necessary adjustments. As I was doing so, my good friend Melissa sent me a text message:

"How's the Rollerblading going?"

"It's great!! I haven't broken anything yet!"

"That's good! Well have fun and be safe!!"

"Thanks!"

So Rachel and I continue on. Soon we come to a hill. (Yes, I am aware that I have swtiched to present-tense verbs. I feel they are more effective at this point in my narrative.)

"Umm. . . Rachel, do you think we should attempt to go down this hill?"

"Sure. We'll take it easy."

"Rach, I don't know how to use my brakes."

"It'll be fine. I'll go in front."

"O-k-k-kay."

Rachel takes off down the hill. I follow. Rachel is keeping a nice, steady pace. I, however, start accelerating very quickly. Too quickly.

"RACHEL!!!! I CAN'T STOP!!!"

"Calm down, just turn your foot a little and let it drag. It will slow you down."

"AGGHHHH!!!! I CAN'T STOP!!!"

"Kim, don't panic. You're doing great."

"AAAGGGGHHHH!!! THERE ARE PEOPLE DOWN THERE!! I'M GOING TO HIT THEM!!"

"Kim! No, you're not. Just slow down. Don't panic."

"AAAAGGGHHH!! I CAN'T STOP! I'M PANICKING!!"

"Kim, you're being dramatic. Calm down."

"MOVE, PEOPLE!! I'M GOING TO HIT YOU!!! AAAGGGHHHH!!!"

The four, obviously hard-of-hearing old people keep walking, blocking the entire width of the path.

At this point I catch up to Rachel and grab her in a bear hug as I pass her. We both spin around two or three times before hitting the pavement, rolling over one another as we tumble down the hill. We come to a stop at the bottom of the hill, and the old people continue walking, oblivious to the whole spectacle.

A nice man comes running and asks us if we're okay. We start to get up. Rachel gets up almost immediately. I roll over and attempt to push myself up. I get up on my knees and notice that my wrist looks a little funny.

"Oh my. I think my wrist is broken. I think my wrist is broken! It's broken! I just know it's broken!!"

"Kim, you don't know that. Calm down. Just calm down."

"Rachel! Look at it!"

She looks at it.

"Oh dear. Okay. I know where the emergency room is!"

At this point, I'm cradling my wrist while the nice guy and his wife take my Rollerblades off. Rachel runs back to the car to get my shoes. When she returns, I'm up on my feet and we begin walking to the car. I feel very nauseated at this point.

On the way to the ER, I'm trying to hold my cookies and not cry at the same time. When we arrive, we walk up to the desk and I almost pass out. Some nurse gets me a wheel chair and rolls me into triage. The room is very messy and one of the guys rummages through the junk on his desk and finds a magazine that's buried under a McDonald's bag. He wraps the magazine around my wrist and tapes it. Then he asks me a few questions.

"When's your birthday?"

"September 13th."

"Oh, that's today! Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

"What's your height?"

"Five-eight"

"Weight?"

"Mumble, mumble, mumble."

"Allergic to anything?"

"Ragweed."

"Um. Okay. Allergic to any medications?"

"Benadryl knocks me out, but I think that's a normal side effect."

"Um. Okay. Thanks. Does anything else besides your wrist hurt?"

"Nope." (Knowing that I was heading for X-rays next, I wasn't about to tell him that my tailbone was hurting!)

He finishes his questions and says, "Okay. You're free to go."

Umm. . . a magazine?? For a splint?? Are you serious?? What kind of place is this?! I'm going to be charged a  few thousand bucks and they wrap a magazine around my wrist?? Rachel assures me it's just a temporary splint while I'm in the waiting room to go back for X-rays.

As we're sitting in the waiting room, Rachel makes a few phone calls to let people know that we're in the hospital. At this point I'm in a lot of pain. Rachel asks me if she can get me anything. I tell her I'm thirsty. She goes to the front desk and asks for some water. The lady nicely tells her that I'm not allowed to drink anything. That makes me mad.

We wait FOREVER.

A nurse comes out.

"LaShonda Moore?" [DISCLAIMER: This name and the following names are made up.]

We look around. No one is getting up. I pipe up hopefully, "I'm Kimberly Moore."

"No. I need LaShonda Moore."

sigh

Eventually a lady comes running into the room. "Sorry. I needed to get a drink."

(SHE gets a drink?? That's not fair.)

So we continue waiting.

The same nurse comes out again.

"Bertha Moore?"

Again, no one moves.

"I'm Kimberly Moore!"

"No. I need Bertha Moore."

sigh

Bertha hears her name and puts her magazine aside and follows the nurse.

And we wait some more (moore???)

The nurse comes out again.

"Julius Moore?"

No one moves. I look around.

"Are you sure you don't mean Kimberly Moore?"

"No, honey, I meant Julius Moore. Julius Moore?? Is there a Julius Moore in here?"

Julius gets up and follows the nurse.

Sigh. The whole Moore family must be here for some reason. I wonder if maybe it's carbon monoxide poisoning or something.

Finally the nurse calls, "Kimberly Moore?"

"Do you mean me?"

"Are you Kimberly Moore?"

"Yes."

"Then I mean you."

"Good. I'm not related to those other people."

"I know." The nurse rolls her eyes.

I'm pushed back to X-rays. The nurse says it's okay for Rachel to come with me. We get back to the X-ray station. There's some young cocky blonde guy sitting at the desk eating his supper. The nurse informs him he has a patient.

"Good. I'm bored.I need some entertainment."

He pushes me back to the X-ray room.

"So what happened?"

"I broke my wrist."

"How'd you do that?"

"I was Rollerblading."

"Why were you Rollerblading?"

"Um. Because I wanted to."

"Did you fall?"

"Uh, yes."

"You're not supposed to fall."

"Um. I know."

"So why'd you fall?"

"I don't know!! Because I wanted to, maybe?!!"

At this point, I'm getting rather perturbed at his attempts to be funny. I'm in a lot of pain and I just want somebody to do something to make my wrist feel better.

He takes 40 million X-rays of my wrist. As he's looking at the X-rays in the other room, I hear him say, "Woah. That doesn't look good."

"Cool. Look at that!"

"Ooh. Gross. That's nasty."

Again, I panic.

He comes out and and I ask him, "Am I going to need surgery?"

"Definitely."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah. You did a doozy on your wrist."

"When will I have it?"

"Tonight."

"Oh, no! Oh, no! I don't want surgery! I can't have surgery!"

I begin to cry. I've never been to an emergency room, and I've never had to have surgery!! This was not good news. Rachel tells the guy that he is NOT funny.

Finally, the cocky blonde guy takes compassion on me and tries to comfort me. He apologizes for joking around with me when it was obviously an inappropriate time. Another guy (who's much nicer) rolls me into another room where my wrist is examined.

The nice lady in the bright room gives me some pain killers. Those make me happy. Very happy. I ask her if I really have to have surgery tonight.

"What?? No! Who told you that?!"

"The X-ray guy."

"Girl, pay no attention to him. He's a jerk."

Needless to say, I was very relieved. I was even more relieved when my mommy-away-from-home mommy arrived at the hospital. I guess Rachel must have called her. It is comforting to have someone who's like a mom be with you when you're traumatized and your real mom can't be there.

The nurse puts my arm in a real, honest-to-goodness splint, tells me to call the orthopaedic doctor in the morning to make arrangements for getting my bones reset and having a real cast put on, and sends me off with a prescription for pain killers.

So Rachel, Mommy-away-from-home mommy, and I head out to the parking lot (I got to ride the wheel chair again!!) and head off to get my prescription. We get the prescription and take Mommy-away-from-home mommy back to her car. Then Rachel and I head home where Dawn is waiting with my birthday cake:

As you can see, pain killers and chocolate cake make me very happy. The moral of the story? Don't go Rollerblading. And if you do go Rollerblading, make sure you have great friends who will take you to the ER and give you cake when you return home.

In Memory of Dad (May 6, 1948-September 5, 2008)

After visiting my parents in Des Moines in July 2008, my mom and dad traveled back to Memphis with me to stay a few days. The night before my parents were to drive back to Des Moines, my dad and I were on my computer looking at maps to find an alternate route for them to take back home due to all the construction we had encountered on the way down. My mother, having a knack for taking photos at the most inopportune moments (i.e., the subject of the picture is either in pajamas, has bed head, or is in a bad I-really-don't-want-my-picture-taken mood), decided that the following picture would be a good one to take:

"Mom, please delete that picture. We look horrible."

"But, Sweetie, it's a memory. Besides, I won't show it to anybody. I'm not the one who posts pictures all over Facebook."

Who am I to argue with that? :-)

Wow. I am so glad she didn't let me talk her into deleting this picture. Little did I know when we had that conversation that this would be the last picture ever taken of my dad and me together. In fact, that night was the last night I ever saw him. They left for Des Moines the next morning. Just about a month later on the night of September 5, 2008, I received a phone call saying my dad had gone home to be with the Lord.

 

I could go into great detail about that night; I could tell you how I felt, the phone calls that were made, the crying that was done, but there's no need to focus on all that. I was reminded by someone tonight that we are not to sorrow as those who have no hope. Instead of dwelling on what happened that night, I will hope in what the future holds:

But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.  For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.  For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words. (I Thessalonians 4:13-18)

What a day that will be!!

 

I Like September

September is my favorite month of the year, and not just because it's the month of the anniversary of my birth. :-) There are several reasons I like September.

1. It's the month of the anniversary of my twin sister's birth!! Yay!

2. It has part of my name in it. KiMBERly--SepteMBER. (I asked my mom if she did that on purpose, and she said she didn't. Perhaps she did it subconsciously.) It also has part of septic in it, but we'll overlook that.

3. The fall season begins in September. I love fall.

4. The annual Memphis Dulcimer Gathering and Folk Festival occurs in September!

5. It becomes socially acceptable to begin eating ginger snaps and sipping hot apple cider in September.

6. September is noted for several famous holidays and observances. September happens to be International Square Dancing month, as well as chicken month and honey month. I can't square dance (Grandma can!!), but I like chicken and I like honey. And chicken biscuits with honey is even better. National Fortune Cookie Day happens to fall on my birthday (13th), and it just so happens that I love fortune cookies!!  Grandparents Day is in September, and it just so happens that I love my grandma! Teddy Bear Day is September 9th, and it just so happens that I love my teddy bear! September 6th is Read a Book Day, and it just so happens that I love reading books! Postive Thinking Day is on the 13th, and it just so happens I love positive thinking! September 8th is National Date Nut Bread Day, and it just so happens that I love date nut bread . . . wait, no I don't. Nevermind. Anyhow, there are many other notable days in September, but I'm getting tired of typing them all out, so you can just check this page.

7. September has only 30 days (as do April, June, and November but those months aren't nearly as nice as September). I hate it when there are 31 days in a month. That's just so odd.

Seven is a lovely number, so I think I'll stop there on my list. :-) Happy September, friends!

Good News!!

My coconut conundrum no longer exists! At least the problem with the yogurt doesn't. I went to a Kroger this afternoon, and their store brand carries a coconut creme flavor of yogurt! Yippee Skippy!! I haven't tried it yet, but I have good hopes. Most anything with "coconut" and "creme" in the flavor is bound to be good.

Coconut Conundrum

Well, I figured that since I started a blog, I should probably write something on it once in a while. And what better topic to start out with than coconuts. That's right, folks. Coconuts. Specifically, my coconut conundrum. (Please excuse my corny coconut conundrum alliteration. I just spent the last hour creating a powerpoint for my 10th grade English class about sound repetition devices, alliteration being one of them.)

Anyhow, I really like coconut. . . that is, if it's heavily sweetened and in some type of candy or dessert. I had a bad experience drinking coconut milk straight from the shell when I was a kid. Quite frankly, I'm surprised that experience didn't turn me off from coconuts forever. Now, what was I saying . . . ah, yes . . . I like coconuts. I really like coconuts.

Anyhow (I say that word a lot), I went to the grocery store the other day to buy my usual breakfast staples: granola bars and yogurt. I found my favorite granola bars in a snap and tossed them in the cart. Then I moseyed on over to the dairy department to fetch my yogurt. I'm not a big fan of yogurt, but if it's a delectable flavor, I can stomach it. Anyhow, last year I discovered coconut cream pie flavored yogurt. It didn't taste like I was eating yogurt. It tasted more like . . . well. . . like coconut cream pie. It was like eating dessert for breakfast. So I made it over to the dairy department. My eyes started scanning the shelves and shelves of yogurt. I saw strawberry yogurt, banana yogurt, strawberry-banana yogurt. There was black cherry yogurt (nasty) and mixed berry yogurt. They had Boston cream pie and banana cream pie. Chocolate cream pie and pumpkin pie. I saw blueberries and blackberries and raspberries galore. Every flavor of yogurt you could dream of. . . every flavor that is, except for . . . yup, you guessed it . . . coconut cream pie. Not a single cup of coconut cream pie yogurt. *sigh* I was devastated. And my granola bars are lonely now.

Anyhow, today at lunch, I was sharing my yogurt woes with Mrs. Fleming (fabulous lunch lady who always makes the UNsweetened tea just the way I like it). As I was lamenting, I suddenly realized that I haven't seen another one of my favorite coconut products lately: Brach's Neopolitan Coconut Sundaes. (And just the fact that this candy is now sold on oldtimecandy.com makes me feel really old.) What's with that? Why aren't those being sold in stores anymore? I know there are more coconut nuts out there besides me.

These recent transpirings make me think that I've come to the point in my life where I must learn how to make a real coconut cream pie . . . .

I Am Easily Distracted

I just spent the whole afternoon creating a blog just so I could post my Shelfari Bookcase widget somewhere. *sigh* I'll work on my lesson plans now.