After I posted my new year’s resolutions on this blog, a friend told me, “Wow, that is so brave. Now you’re accountable to people. You have to do it.” Well, maybe that’s true. And so for all of you holding me accountable: no, I have not parked my skinny ass on a pew seat…yet. I know I made a resolution about it, but…um…I haven’t kept it. Thankfully, I still have 338 days left! And just maybe it’ll take me that long to do it, too. Read More
I don’t really like the idea of Twitter—I’m not keen on being updated constantly about what everybody I know is doing at any given moment. But I’ve joined the movement and became a Twitterite yesterday.
Frankly, I don’t think anybody’s that interested to hear about it every time I scratch my ass. So instead of using Twitter to report on the inane things I might be doing at any given moment, I’m going to use it to report on my reading habits. So when I’m reading something new, I’ll put it up there. Maybe occasionally, I’ll make a brief twitter-size comment about the book. But that’s it. It’ll be my own mini book-review site.
If you care to know what I’m reading, then add me to your Twitter list and “follow” me.
I bit my tongue a lot during the two weeks I stayed with Grandma.
I didn’t, for example, tell her that my dad got bit by a dog while he was in Ecuador. She would have worried, and worried even more to know that he was undergoing rabies treatment. Read More
It’s been a long time since I prayed outloud–I’d say at least ten years, maybe longer. But this week, I’ve been praying outloud twice a day, every time I sit down for a meal with my grandmother. She wants grace said, but she doesn’t want to say it, so the onus is on me. God must have a sense of humor, ‘cuz s/he knows how uncomfortable it makes me feel. Read More
I’m trying to follow my parents’ schedule with Grandma as closely as possible so this morning I took her out to breakfast, which is what my dad does with her on Sunday morning in lieu of church. (Can’t say that I blame him.) These days, choice is something that is just confusing to her, so they eat at either Village Inn or IHOP and she gets pretty much the same item at either place–waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.
I accidentally slept in this morning and woke up at 8:19 a.m., realizing I was 19 minutes late. I had told Grandma I’d be at her little house by 8 a.m. So I hustled a bra on under my shirt (yes, I was wearing the same shirt I wore yesterday to bed), swapped my pajama pants for regular pants, popped my shoes on, and ran over there.
“I was getting worried,” Grandma said. “I thought maybe you was sick.”
She was dressed to the nines. During the week, Grandma slops around in sweats. Who can blame her? She’s not going anywhere. But this morning, she was dressed in nice black slacks, a snazzy black-and-silver-striped sweater, under a black suit jacket with an American flag pin on the lapel.
“You look so pretty,” I chirruped. It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Before this visit, Read More
I’ve never been one for New Year’s Resolutions, but this year, I’m making a few. Here they are.
1) I’d like to be more transparent in my writing, including this blog, even if that makes me panic sometimes. Read More
Many years ago, when I was five or six, I remember watching my mother cry in the hallway of the nursing home where my great-grandmother was living. Great-Grandmother had refused to see us when we came to visit her. She lived in Iowa. We lived in New Mexico. It wasn’t like a visit was an everyday thing.
“Why is Mama crying?” I asked Grandma. Read More