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My musings, my rambles and I welcome you. |
   LIVE WITH INTENTION.  WALK TO THE EDGE.  CHOOSE WITH NO REGRETS.. DANCE IN THE LIGHT APPRECIATE MY FAMILY & FRIENDS.  |
| I’d like to say that I have never played out this scene with my mom, but it wouldn’t be true. I will say I have never seen her toss her hair in a Mrs. Brady way or stop at a single word when making a point. Mother passed away last month. When I have sifted through the regrets, confusion and emotions, I will write something better for her. Right now the wound is too raw. But Mom You stood there, at the top of the stairs and with a toss of your hair as you destroyed my world with a single word. ”No!” Said with a mixture of firmness and exasperation arms folded across your chest, you said it again. “No!” With kindness now as if you could see the damage you had done “No!” “But Mom you’ve destroyed my life!” Lani |
| http://www.foxnews.com/scitech/2011/01/26/facebook-friends-used-ads/?test=latest... This is why I do NOT Facespace or Mybook. And I ALWAYS read the TOS (terms of service) of any website I post. I may reread WDC's TOS just to make sure I haven't missed anything. Mr. Orwell was right. Big brother is watching. Who knew that it would be big greed instead of big gov? Lani |
I am doing The Annual Advent Adventure because I wanted a closer walk with God this Christmas. A recent assignment was to discuss the implications of the coming Messiah from the Roman and Judean perspectives. I wrote this story. I hope you enjoy. The centurion was looking over his daily reports. It wasn’t easy to be a member of the 10th legion in Judea under the best of circumstances but these reports made Marcus Antonius sigh. It would be a long night. Still there was one report missing. “Centurion,” a voice called from the shadows. “Jubal, I was just thinking of you.” “Kindly I hope,” replied the Judean as he stepped into the lamplight. “As kindly as one can for a traitor and spy.” “Oh sir, you disappoint me.” “Really, how so?” “I am not a traitor. I am a business man. The Romans supply ample opportunities for business.” “Alright business man, what do you have for me?” “A rumor of the coming Messiah.” “Now you disappoint me Jubal. Isaac the Zealot has already been sentenced to death for insurrection. Messiahs infest the Judean hills like rats.” This one is different. A young girl, a virgin claims to be carrying the Messiah…” The centurion waved his hand to cut Jubal’s recital. “Sounds like an easy excuse to me,” he said impatiently. “Ordinarily I would agree with you sir, but this girl is related to Zechariah. He was the priest who was struck dumb in the temple. Now his elderly wife is pregnant. The girl claims to have talked to angels.” Marcus rubbed his tired eyes. He felt a disquiet in his spirit. It did not matter if he believed in his gods or their one god. What mattered was they did. “Okay Jubal, you have my attention. Tell me everything about this coming Messiah.” “Of course sir, but I only have a layman’s understanding…” Marcus doubted that and said, “I’ll pay you after the information is given not before as already agreed. “ Jubal sighed and continued, “There is a prophecy that says ‘,Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.’ Some believe that he will reign over the house of David meaning he will be military leader. He will free our people from our oppressors and unite the country.” Marcus frowned at the end the recital. “If the Messiah is coming as a baby, there are 20-30 years before he is an issue.” Jubal thought for a moment. He replied “Herod has his own business men. I bet he doesn’t wait that long.” “Herod is mad. He kills his sons but not his pigs. The question is, is anyone taking her seriously?” “The High Priest cannot deny something has happened to Zechariah and his wife. With the girl, they are taking a wait and see approach.” “Makes sense. The girl could be a liar or deluded. Yes, better to wait and see.” “Yes better to wait and see,’ agreed Jubal. “But if the order of things is going to change maybe I should change too. After all if the Messiah rules, there won’t be any need for Roman spies.” “Business men,” corrected the centurion. “And if you do your job well, there won’t be any need to fear this Messiah. Here take this.” “What is it?” "A note giving Herod the information you just gave me. I think he will find it enlightening, don’t you?” and Marcus smiled sardonically. Jubal took the note and said,”Yes, I do.” Lani |
| “You gotta love South Carolina,” he said looking at his morning crackberry news. “Why? What have we done now?” I replied. It was going to be hard to beat a former love sick governor, a Senator calling the President a liar and Hollywood movie producers who saw all southerners as stupid, redneck, and racists. “This weekend is tax free.” “No that was in August for school supplies.” “This one is for guns. It’s to celebrate the Second Amendment and help the gun businesses.” “Are you kidding me?” “Nope. It’s just for guns though not ammo. Too bad. I don’t need a new gun.” “Oh so I’m not getting a new gun for Christmas?” “Aaahh” “Gotcha ya” http://archives.postandcourier.com/archive/arch09/1109/arc11268966367.shtml Lani |
| I was feeling fragile, teetering toward a fall, when I cried to the Lord. Why me? Why all this trouble for a cracked and empty soul? And the answer came. Why not all this trouble for a heart healed by My blood and filled with My Spirit? What more do you need? but to realize, though you teeter, I will not let you fall. I’ve been tinkering with this poem for a few months. It feels unfinished, undone. But then that may be the point. |
| He hides in the shadows thinking I won’t see him. His cunning is renowned so I must be patient. I must face him in his lair, the dark basement: his sanctuary, my dread. Sigh “Honey, hiding down here won’t get our list done.” I don't really celebrate Halloween or write horror, but autumn does seem to be honeydo list time. So this poem is appropriate. Lani |
| Nothing too serious today. Just a book review. I've discovered romance novels. I mean I've always known about them, but I thought romances too mushy, too messy and too same for me. Wrong. I have found Georgette Heyer. She writes so breezily, its easy to dismiss her. Someday when I have more time, I will do a better review of her work. For now, this my review of Cotillion. Cotillion has all the requirements for a regency romance: an orphan at the mercy of her guardian, a dashing hero, a governess, London, elopements, fortunes and weird relatives. The thing is Gorgette Heyer turns everything on its ear. The best friend is the hero. The heroine is a bit blurry till the end. And the "hero" is villainish. And it's not a romance per se. Some reviewers have called it a "romp" ; a new word for me. Dictionary.com defines it as quick or effortless pace: The work was easy, and he went through it in a romp and so it is. It's a screw ball comedy. It's a rom-com movie. In fact, it's not quite that either because the romance doesn't happen between the heroine and best friend/hero until the last page. All the secondary characters are the ones falling in love, eloping and romancing. If I were casting as a movie, Mr. Standen would be Adam Sandler, a guy who plays the best friend but the romantic lead? Kitty would be Carrey Mulligan who was in Pride and Prejudice as Kitty Bennet and recently in Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps. Jack the "selfish hero" would be Hugh Grant who can do hero or villain for anyone who has seen a rom-com or Bridget Jones Diary. This was such a fun book I hated that it had to end. Enjoy.  |
| "I don't want to go to the gym today," I said. "Why not?" asked my husband. "Because you're laying there all comfortable, cozy and sexy. I'm feeling a little guilty leaving you as well as envious." "I will not be the pilot of your guilt trip," he blithely replied. That's not the answer I expected. I expected to be coaxed back to bed for snuggle time. I expect my gym trip to be put on the back burner until it was 1) too late to go or 2) I was annoyed enough with myself to skip the housework again and go after snuggle time. Hubby's response really jolted me. "You're right. I'm not getting on that plane. See ya' later." I did 30 minutes on the bike and my strenght training. I love my hubby. Lani |
| Lost in a haze of my mind’s own making, pink clouds and bunnies play. I cannot have this. This will never do. I try to shake off the fantasies, when a voice from beyond the fog calls, smashing clouds and bunnies, “Honey? Benadryl haze?” As he hands me a tissue. As someone who has been struggling with bronchitis and asthma this year, I thought this poem was appropriate. Lani |
| I wrote this as a writing excerise. The story deals with questions we all deal with when we reach that certain point in life. I'm not sure what I am going to do with it. It does seem like the beginning of a novel I want to read. When I know what happen next, I'll work on it. In the meantime, Happy Father's Day and enjoy. John sat on the back porch steps sipping his morning coffee. A man can think in the early quiet. The occasional squirrel or bird played in the yard for his amusement, but for the most part the man was alone. Ah the smell of magnolias, fresh cut grass, and exhaust from a car ready to leave for work. John closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Suburbia. How the hell did I get here, he wondered. Better here than in there, he mused. The kitchen was in the middle of its usual morning chaos. Linda and the boys were getting ready for school and work. The sound of a muffled wail made its way through the back door and into John’s peace. Yes, definitely better here than in the line of fire. At least I can get myself fed and ready, John muttered. He tried to assuage the guilt he felt about leaving his wife with the morning uproar. Not that it took much to get him ready. A shower, shave, a clean pair of jeans, shirt and socks were all he needed for his contractors job. His construction boots lay by the door, a last minute detail. “Daaaadddeeeeee!” “Oh well, I guess it’s better to have them yelling for me than at me,” he said to a squirrel who looked up when the noise began. With a sigh, John swallowed the last of his cold coffee and returned to the house. As he entered the kitchen, John saw the chaos that he had heard from the porch. The 8 year old twins were sitting at the table. Tim, teary-eyed had been the one who called for his dad. Jake, the elder and bossier twin was clearly angry and rolling his eyes at his mom. “What’s going on in here? I can hear you in the next county!” The force of angry voices rocked him back on his heels. Yeah, work looks pretty good today. “Quiet you guys! Linda, what’s the matter?” “What’s the matter? Nothing, except I asked your sons to sit and eat like civilized human beings instead flinging food everywhere. Jake hasn’t finished his homework, Timmy is missing his shoes, I’m not ready and you, as usual, are AWOL. Just a typical morning in the Tanner household.” Mentally, he sighed. I'm not having this same fight this morning. John looked at his wife. She was beautiful even without her make-up, but Linda had different ideas about what was considered 'ready for work'. He began to bark out orders. “Linda, finish getting ready. Jake, sit and eat breakfast. You will take the incomplete or F or whatever they give these days. I expect a note from your teacher. Tim, do not let him copy or you will be in trouble. Now let’s find your shoes.” Linda hurried to the bathroom, relieved to let John have the boys for a few minutes. Let him have the boys for a few minutes, mused Linda. As if the boys were mine alone and John was some kind of visitor or assistant instead of their father. She looked at herself in the mirror and began applying her makeup. She saw tiny creases around her eyes and an occasional gray hair. Fingering the lines, she protested, “But I’m only 38.” The annoying buzz of her cell phone startled Linda. She sighed and flipped opened the phone. It could only be one person. “Yes Patty. We’re running a little late. Temper tantrums are terrible thing to waste. Sorry, I know it’s too early for jokes. I’m leaving in 5. Bye.” Jake and Timmy would pull this stuff on my car pool day. Twenty minutes later Linda was driving the twins and their friends to school. Husband, kids, car pool. Suburbia. How the hell did I get here, Linda wondered as she drank the last of the cold coffee from her travel mug. Lani |
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