💗💗 2023 February
FROM MY PERSPECTIVE
My friend and I were discussing sarcasm (she has the gift of
that, too). She asked, “Can you die from
holding in sarcasm?” I told her,
“No. It just keeps building until the
right person comes along and you give ‘em both barrels of sarcasm, which they
so rightfully deserved. Now
farts----that's another story. I've held in farts only to have them sneak out
when in an elevator or on a crowded escalator and have no where to run. Of
course, I looked at the person next to me and scowled. They had no clue, but
the look on their face was priceless.”
My friend told me through gasps of extreme laughing (I guess the
imagined visual was too much), “I had a high-pitched fart sneak out one time
and my niece thought I was calling her.... Kiiiiiimmm. Then another time, my sister and I we
were at a mall on the upper level sitting on a wooden bench. I let one rip just
as a man and his toddler were coming out of an ice cream shop. It scared the
little kid so bad, he shuddered and the top scoop from his ice cream cone hit
the floor. He cried like crazy. We laughed like crazy. I felt bad for him
though. RAT-a-Tat-Tat......probably sounded like gun shot.” After
I got my breath, I told her, “This conversation has deteriorated terribly, but
it’s been so funny.”
I
trudged up the sidewalk to the house of the Lady of the Holler. I had a heavy heart due to a fuss with
someone I loved very much. I knocked on
the door; she came to it and opened it with a smile on her face. “Oh, Chile, I’m so glad to see ye. Come on in and set a spell,” she cheerily
said. I entered in silence. “Oh, oh, yer face tells me you have a
bother. Let’s talk about it, if ye want
to. Set down on the couch, I’ll get some
hot water boilin’ for tea.” She
returned, sat down beside me, and patted my hand with her cool, slender, soft
hand. “All right, now, what’s
a-botherin’ ye,” she gently inquired. I
told her of the fuss with someone I loved very much, including telling the
person, ‘I’m so sorry’. I told of the
rejection of my apology and how I understood it, but the rejection still
hurt. There was some quiet, a deep breath,
a little mumble of a prayer----I knew it was a prayer because I heard her
softly say, “Amen, Lord.” “Chile, I’m
gonna tell you what I’ve had happen to me in the same sort of happenin’. ‘I’m sorry’ coming from the heart of one to
the closed “door” of another creates a hurt, too. The knockin’ seems to go unheard,
unacknowledged, and unfelt, so the hurt continues for both parties, and nothing
is resolved nor improvements begun.
Silence may seem to heal the wounds, but wounds “healed” with silence
are not really healed, they’re just covered over to be opened again. Go back to the one who ye said, ‘I’m sorry’
to and try to talk about the issue which brought the hurt to ye both. It may be a bit difficult, but ye tried to
make things right, and that’s good. I’m
a-thinkin’ the other will eventually come around and forgive ye.” There’s more wisdom from the Lady of the
Holler. Bless her soul.
“Our
prayers may be awkward, our attempts may be feeble, but since the power of
prayer is in the One who hears it and not in the one who says it, our prayers
do make a difference.” Max Lucado I saw this recently and, also, read what some
had said about how they thought their prayers were terrible or inadequate and
needed to improve. So, they apologize to
Him. I mentioned, “When I think my
prayer has been ambiguous, inadequate, or insufficient, I ask God to look
through all my verbal fumbling and take what He believes is needed. He never fails. Or, I just simply say, ‘Help’, which is a
prayer in itself. Our tears are, also,
prayers for when words escape us. He
knows.”
Brenduhh
stopped by for a chat. She was a bit
honked because she got a ticket for going the opposite way on a street than
what the arrow pointed. “I don’t think
this ticket is valid, Trudy. The sign
said, ‘ONE WAY’. I’m a human, I can only
GO one way and that’s what I was doing!!”
I offered some warm banana bread and tea to soothe her “scattered
nerves”, as she calls them. During our
conversation, she mentioned she tried a new soup recipe and found it very
relaxing to consume. I love soup and
asked her to share the recipe. She said,
“Well, first I had to find a bottle of fine whiskey. I emptied that into the pot and added some
ice croutons. Then I stirred it and put
it in a glass. I drank it and found it
very relaxing.” Gods, this girl is a
trip; I don’t know to where, but she’s a trip.
She, also, doesn’t have all her luggage packed.
As
most of you know, I’m a retired teacher and loved teaching. My 26 year old was a bit miffed at me after I
tried to give rationale and explain why I said something. “Oh MOM!!!
I just want to have a mom; you don’t need to be a teacher, too!!” she
lamented. I waited a small amount of
time to make sure my words would sink in.
Then, I told her, “I know you do, but kiddo, you are so blessed. You get to have both mom and teacher all
wrapped up into one person------ME!” She
walked away rolling her eyes shaking her head, and grumbling.
I had someone ask me
what the difference between ignorant and stupid is. I told them, “In my thinking, IGNORANT is
when a person doesn’t know something and doesn’t understand it until it is
explained or shown in simpler terms.
STUPID is when they know and understand something, but choose to not do
or say it. For example, a long time ago
my boyfriend and I were going to cross a railroad track in his car. We saw the blinking lights signaling that a
train was coming, and it was close.
There were no white and black blocking arms. We stopped where we were supposed to. Behind us was a car with yelling, laughing
teens in it. The driver chose to go
around us and drive over the tracks; they barely got over the tracks before the
train was there. THAT is an example of
STUPID. Also, stupid can not be fixed
with super glue or duct tape.”
I was reading a Calvin and Hobbs cartoon recently. Calvin asked his dad how the transportation
department knows how to judge the weight limit on a bridge. His dad tells him many different weight
trucks are run over the bridge until it breaks.
Then, the last truck is weighed and that’s how they know the weight
limit of the bridge. Calvin’s mother
says, “If you don’t know the answer, just tell him!!” It reminded me of when the 5 year old
daughter of a friend asked me how pickle relish was made. I told her, “There is a line of ladies who
pick up the pickles, chew them up, and spit them into a jar.” Her mother heard me and came unglued. “Good grief, Trudy!!! She will believe you.” I just smiled thinking, “She really needs to
get a sense of humor if she’s going to hang out with me.”
I’ve been a parent for over 50 years. It is HARD. Some days I’d killed it, and some days I felt defeated. But, on both days, I got up and did it, that parenting thing.
A friend of mine posted this on a social media: “
