Rearview June 2008

I’ve been a blogger for only two months now. If you are even newer to the blog than I am, never fear. At the end of each month I do a little look back (okay, I did it once before) for fun, and offer apologies where necessary. Here’s June 2008 in review:

My obsession with women’s undergarments is hopefully over, although I make no guarantees. My admiration for sports bras may linger for some time. And please forgive me if I intimated that missionaries are a hoax. I have a new favorite one from Bulgaria. Check out her blog.

Diana got a beautiful report from the oncologist! We are no longer getting away with two pieces of cheese, but it’s a small price to pay for REMISSION.

I’m sorry, Mr. Kinkade. I cannot go so far as to say that I’ve seen the light, but since Amy Nielson loves you, and I LOVE Amy Nielson, perhaps we have a future together. Perhaps.

Admittedly, I have been out of sorts. Part of it is that I am still getting over the fact that some of my favorite people moved away this month. Miss you, dear friends. The ham you gave us is long gone, but we are still tripping over your absence - especially while on the toilet.

My son is not getting so upset at baseball tournaments and I have stopped wearing my tie-dyed shorts to the games. I wonder if the two are connected? Inch by inch, my children and I are learning together, but we have totally sworn off fried foods - too afraid to mistakenly eat a deity.

I have turned in my Church Whisperer ID card. The chaps were too cumbersome and I am learning that people respond far better to grace than to getting a spur in the hindquarters. That said, I still wish Jesus would just give His bride a good kick in the a** - just one little undeniable reminder that we do not exist for ourselves. (Sorry, Mom! I’ll power wash my mouth).

The kids are home on summer break (love it!) and my Dad is in Bulgaria (yes, with my favorite writer/missionary). He is a great example of a genuine Christian. No bullhorn, just love and Jesus. That’s it.

I have failed to leash my dog, but I think it would be smokin’ to hear Amy Winehouse sing the National Anthem. Or Mia. Or Wayne. Actually, they may make the perfect trio.

And although I have not yet decided to defenestrate the Weekend Word Contest, I am lachrymose due to dwindling participation. Perhaps the humidity in the east has left us all hugger-mugger, but I dream of Cockaigne where hundreds enter comments and your husband is uxorious.

Ah, words. THANK YOU for reading them.

Love God.

Love each other.

Go Phillies.

Rearview May 2008

At the end of each month I will take a quick look back, update you on any outstanding situations, and most likely apologize for the crazy stuff I wrote.

May 2008:

I purchased a Christian fish magnet for the back of my car. Instead of legs, mine is sprouting horns. If you like C.S. Lewis, try something by N.T. Wright.

J.J. has had to go to Grandpa’s house multiple times to retrieve more frogs. Just when we think we’ve got them all, my parents discover another. J.J. thinks he put about 30 tadpoles in the pond last summer, so my parents may find themselves in the middle of an Egyptian plague before it’s all over. Speaking of plagues, the junta in Myanmar is being fickle about allowing relief workers into the country even as the threat of starvation for thousands of orphaned children increases.

My friend Diana has a full head of hair and a bone marrow biopsy on June 2 to confirm her remission. We will celebrate with a Fiesta Salad after the appointment. Noah is vertical once again. We had to resort to a brief hospitalization and another antibiotic, but he is back to teasing his sister, rolling his eyes, and being generally wonderful. Interestingly, he is still fretting about science grades in his sleep. I am bracing myself for the coming report card.

No, I never tried to milk a gerbil. Good question, though.

At the rate I’m going, a career in telemarketing is looking more and more probable. The publishing industry moves at a glacial pace which works both for me and against me. In the meantime, all donations of toilet paper, canned goods and gasoline being accepted.

Yes, you will often see references to Shakespeare on my blog. I’ve had a shameless crush on him for years. Please don’t tell Steve.

I'm still trying to write love on arms, legs, minds, hearts and the occasional building (when I remember to put a can of spray paint in the trunk). Luckily, my mother has decided to go ahead and keep me, in spite of my potty mouth. She did threaten me with a bar of soap, however. Remind me to tell you the vacuum cleaner story on a day that her computer is on the fritz. Oh, it’s a good one.

My dear friend Rick is still waiting for the world to change. In the meantime, he cares for his son and remains my very favorite sissy.

The recurring theme of my outraged astonishment and finger pointing at the idiocy of real live people, including football coaches and Memorial Day picnickers, has got to stop. From now on, instead of getting distressed, I will simply yell out, “Bite my weltanschauung!” and be done with it.

Going to church this week, but taking my baseball mitt with me, just in case I’m surprised by a foul ball hit into the pews.

I’ve been a blogger for one month. If you’ve been a loyal reader (or a disloyal one) I say, “THANK YOU!” Your honest and dishonest feedback is always welcome. Please keep sending invitations to my blog to your friends. And, no, I will not be offended if you feel the need to include some sort of disclaimer.

Love God. Love each other. Go Phillies.