I have two sisters. Niki is one year older than I am. Kali is a little under 2 years younger than I am. As much as I love and respect Niki, I don't have much of a story to tell about the two of us. We pretty much got along well our whole lives. This story is about my journey with Kali.
I don't remember too much specifically about our childhood relationships except for the fact that Niki and I used to fight over who got to play with her. It must have been when she was little and cute or something. . .
Our story starts more when I was in 9th grade. 1998, to be precise. This was when I made the decision that I didn't really like Kali. I didn't like her because that entire school year she tried to copy the things I wore, and the unique style I tried really hard to create. Looking back, I'm sad that I thought I was creating any sort of style, but either way; it was mine.
I remember trying to say mean things to her that would make her feel bad, just because I didn't like her. I told her that her belly looked like bread dough. I made fun of her teeth. I teased her about her stinky feet. I was not nice.
Two years later, Kali was in 9th grade, which meant she was now in the youth group. One specific incident I remember happened in the summer after 10th grade when our youth group went to Uplift at Harding University. I had done a pretty good job of avoiding Kali the entire trip, but there was one night we all stood in a circle and had a prayer and I got stuck next to Kali. I had to hold her hand, and my entire body started cringing with hatred. I started crying and after the prayer I went over and talked to Mark. I told him that I was crying because I couldn't stand the thought of standing by her and holding her hand.
I was sick of her trying to be like me (which I considered copying me), and I didn't believe her when she said anything spiritually relevent. I didn't want to know about her personal life, and I didn't want to think she had the capacity to think deeply about things that were relevent to me.
Off and on, the next two years, Kali had some really fun friends. I think I stopped hating her, and more started tolerating her. I occasionally would still say mean things, but I didn't cringe when we sat near each other. I think high school was good for Kali, because when she made her friends they gave her new people to emulate, taking less pressure off me. I was dating a boy, and she really liked him. She and he would help me make school projects; and he and I would help her make hers (mostly in movie form).
When Niki went away to college, I was a senior in high school and Kali was a sophmore. Everything in her life started getting dramatic. She started getting her own opinions and deciding that mom wasn't fair about ANYTHING. I remember on two occasions Kali storming out of the house and sitting out on the driveway or in the treehouse. It was well after dark, and my mom looked at me and said, "go talk to her."
I went outside to talk to Kali, not knowing what I was going to say. I didn't even like her. I thought she was being ridiculous and childish. But I sat out there for probably an hour on each occasion and just tried to convey that I understood because "I've been there before."
I consider that a turning point in our relationship. Whether it had to do with actual "bonding" or just me growing up, from that point on Kali and I became pretty good friends. I looked up to her and her amazing hair. Her style sense far surpassed mine pretty quickly, and I started copying her. And she didn't mind. I got along with her boyfriends, and the three of us always had lots of fun.
Kali moved down to Oklahoma and pretty much became the most popular person on the planet. And I was so proud of her. I liked it when people knew me as "Kali's sister." I was grateful for her sense of style, and gained a whole new appreciation for her sense of humor and her wittiness. We shared many inside jokes, and generated many dances and renditions of everybody's favorite songs to perform for family gatherings. I look back on our journey (or rather my journey) and am a little sad to remember how much I truly hated her.
I am pretty sure that people prayed for our sister-ship, and I am pretty sure that God had lessons to teach us both through each other. I'm not sure what, if anything, I taught her. But I learned a lot about being a big sister from Kali. And I learned a lot about myself.
Now Kali and I are pretty much as close as we could get. We share clothes, laughs, jokes, and respect. I know I probably travelled a whole lot farther than Kali, but the journey we took to get us to where we are now is something that I consider one of the most important ones I've ever taken.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Kicking Winter's Butt with My New Armour.
I am a runner.
Yes, I am one of those fools who enjoys running while not being chased, or trying to get to a 7-eleven, giant cookie, or Black Friday sale. I like to run with no end in mind.
Runners World put out a list recently of what makes a "runner" as opposed to a "jogger."
Their list included things like:
A runner doesn't buy the shoes that look cool. He/she buys the shoes that fit.
A runner doesn't buy "outfits" or other matching nonsense. He/she wears what works.
A runner views running as a sport, rather than an activity.
A runner doesn't train when it's convenient. He/she trains when it's necessary--and often inconvenient.
While I'll openly admit that a vast majority of my "runs" are actually at more of a "jog," I still proudly consider myself a runner. I set goals, and I work hard to achieve them. And if I don't, I try again.
That being said, I have a couple general rules for running.
I don't really spend money on running gear. Except for my shoes, I mean. That's about a hundred bucks every 4 to 5 months. But as far as clothing goes, if it doesn't ride up or rub it's pretty much good. I currently alternate between 3 pairs of running shorts, 2 of which I've had since before I moved down to Oklahoma. I wear them any day that's above 40 degrees. If there's no wind, I'll even wear them as low as 35.
As far as shirts go, in the summer I wear tank tops. The fall I wear t-shirts, and as it gets cooler I'll wear a long-sleeved t-shirt. If it's below 45, I'll typically put a t-shirt underneath a long-sleeved t-shirt and I'm pretty good to go.
Another rule I hold to pretty strictly is that if it's below 50, I wear a headband to cover my ears.
This generally works pretty well, because winters don't typically get too cold in Oklahoma. There is an occasional cold day where I'll need to wear running pants and a pullover fleece . But as much as I can, I avoid running in pants. I hate it, because they weigh me down so much it nearly makes running a chore. But I stay warm, and I thump through it.
Soooooo, this brings me to the original purpose of this post:
I was at a sports store tonight, and I was going to look for running tights. Because it was like 20 degrees outside today, I still had to run tonight, and I figured since I'll be going home to Michigan in a week and will need to run there it would do me good to find something I could make work.
My thinking was (honest to goodness) that if I got some good, winter running tights, I could put them under my shorts and still run just like normal. It wouldn't weigh me down, and training for the marathon this winter would be so much easier if I didn't have to dread those thumpy runs.
I looked and looked, and couldn't find any winter running tights, but I came across an area of Under Armour Cold Gear. Under Armour is pretty quality. I own a long-sleeved shirt by them, and I like it pretty well. It's just really expensive. And their policy (or something) is to never offer it at marked down prices. I found a pair of Cold Gear pants, my size. 50 bucks (UGH). But I figured, "what the heck? It's only money." The worst that could happen, in my mind, is that they're the same as my other pants. In 5 years I'll probably still be wearing them, so it's not really unreasonable. Then I grabbed a Cold Gear hoodie (in white, because I typically have to run at night). Another 50 bucks. This is getting pretty ridiculous--but I honestly couldn't stop. I thought about it, and when it's cold outside the part of me that gets the coldest is always my thighs. So I went to the (not Under Armour) section and found a pair of those tight pants like they wear on The Biggest Loser that go just below the knee. I figured I could wear those under my pants. Those were like 12 bucks--clearly because they were an off-brand. And then I grabbed one more Cold Gear fleece (yeah, 60 bucks--don't judge me).
I'm not gonna lie, I'm feeling a little silly to have spent SO MUCH MONEY on running clothes when I have lined windpants, and fleece hoodies at home. I felt like there pretty much wasn't any excuse to spend that much money on like 4 items. But I did it anyway, and I came home to suit up.
I put on my new tight-pants. Then my new Cold Gear pants. I already had on tall socks, so I just kept those pulled up. I wore one of those sports bras that is a tank-top (for an extra layer), then I put my long-sleeved Under Armour shirt on, a regular t-shirt over that, and then my new white hoodie. I slid a neck gator around my neck, and pulled my hat down over my ears. I put on some gloves and I stepped outside--ready to face this 17 degree night for three nice easy miles.
I started running, and something dawned on me after about 20 steps: I felt like I was running in shorts and a t-shirt. Not because I was cold, but because I had full range of motion, and nothing was weighing me down. I kept going, and started to pick up my pace. My cheeks were a little cold, but no other part of me was. I was running strong, running hard, and not feeling any sort of pain, sluggishness, extra weight, or anything that layering and cold weather typically cause.
I almost didn't want my run to end. I was reminded of how much I love winter, and the crisp cool air. I was reminded of how much I love running. I was reminded of how strong I am. And how I choose to run, and I do it because I want to be good at it.
I could have waited until the cold front moved out.
But I'd rather put on my new armour and go out and kick it in the butt.
Yes, I am one of those fools who enjoys running while not being chased, or trying to get to a 7-eleven, giant cookie, or Black Friday sale. I like to run with no end in mind.
Runners World put out a list recently of what makes a "runner" as opposed to a "jogger."
Their list included things like:
A runner doesn't buy the shoes that look cool. He/she buys the shoes that fit.
A runner doesn't buy "outfits" or other matching nonsense. He/she wears what works.
A runner views running as a sport, rather than an activity.
A runner doesn't train when it's convenient. He/she trains when it's necessary--and often inconvenient.
While I'll openly admit that a vast majority of my "runs" are actually at more of a "jog," I still proudly consider myself a runner. I set goals, and I work hard to achieve them. And if I don't, I try again.
That being said, I have a couple general rules for running.
I don't really spend money on running gear. Except for my shoes, I mean. That's about a hundred bucks every 4 to 5 months. But as far as clothing goes, if it doesn't ride up or rub it's pretty much good. I currently alternate between 3 pairs of running shorts, 2 of which I've had since before I moved down to Oklahoma. I wear them any day that's above 40 degrees. If there's no wind, I'll even wear them as low as 35.
As far as shirts go, in the summer I wear tank tops. The fall I wear t-shirts, and as it gets cooler I'll wear a long-sleeved t-shirt. If it's below 45, I'll typically put a t-shirt underneath a long-sleeved t-shirt and I'm pretty good to go.
Another rule I hold to pretty strictly is that if it's below 50, I wear a headband to cover my ears.
This generally works pretty well, because winters don't typically get too cold in Oklahoma. There is an occasional cold day where I'll need to wear running pants and a pullover fleece . But as much as I can, I avoid running in pants. I hate it, because they weigh me down so much it nearly makes running a chore. But I stay warm, and I thump through it.
Soooooo, this brings me to the original purpose of this post:
I was at a sports store tonight, and I was going to look for running tights. Because it was like 20 degrees outside today, I still had to run tonight, and I figured since I'll be going home to Michigan in a week and will need to run there it would do me good to find something I could make work.
My thinking was (honest to goodness) that if I got some good, winter running tights, I could put them under my shorts and still run just like normal. It wouldn't weigh me down, and training for the marathon this winter would be so much easier if I didn't have to dread those thumpy runs.
I looked and looked, and couldn't find any winter running tights, but I came across an area of Under Armour Cold Gear. Under Armour is pretty quality. I own a long-sleeved shirt by them, and I like it pretty well. It's just really expensive. And their policy (or something) is to never offer it at marked down prices. I found a pair of Cold Gear pants, my size. 50 bucks (UGH). But I figured, "what the heck? It's only money." The worst that could happen, in my mind, is that they're the same as my other pants. In 5 years I'll probably still be wearing them, so it's not really unreasonable. Then I grabbed a Cold Gear hoodie (in white, because I typically have to run at night). Another 50 bucks. This is getting pretty ridiculous--but I honestly couldn't stop. I thought about it, and when it's cold outside the part of me that gets the coldest is always my thighs. So I went to the (not Under Armour) section and found a pair of those tight pants like they wear on The Biggest Loser that go just below the knee. I figured I could wear those under my pants. Those were like 12 bucks--clearly because they were an off-brand. And then I grabbed one more Cold Gear fleece (yeah, 60 bucks--don't judge me).
I'm not gonna lie, I'm feeling a little silly to have spent SO MUCH MONEY on running clothes when I have lined windpants, and fleece hoodies at home. I felt like there pretty much wasn't any excuse to spend that much money on like 4 items. But I did it anyway, and I came home to suit up.
I put on my new tight-pants. Then my new Cold Gear pants. I already had on tall socks, so I just kept those pulled up. I wore one of those sports bras that is a tank-top (for an extra layer), then I put my long-sleeved Under Armour shirt on, a regular t-shirt over that, and then my new white hoodie. I slid a neck gator around my neck, and pulled my hat down over my ears. I put on some gloves and I stepped outside--ready to face this 17 degree night for three nice easy miles.
I started running, and something dawned on me after about 20 steps: I felt like I was running in shorts and a t-shirt. Not because I was cold, but because I had full range of motion, and nothing was weighing me down. I kept going, and started to pick up my pace. My cheeks were a little cold, but no other part of me was. I was running strong, running hard, and not feeling any sort of pain, sluggishness, extra weight, or anything that layering and cold weather typically cause.
I almost didn't want my run to end. I was reminded of how much I love winter, and the crisp cool air. I was reminded of how much I love running. I was reminded of how strong I am. And how I choose to run, and I do it because I want to be good at it.
I could have waited until the cold front moved out.
But I'd rather put on my new armour and go out and kick it in the butt.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!
I was tagged by Jennifer!
1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Neither! Christmas CUSTARD!!! (extra chunky!)
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? I have two things to say about this one: 1) Santa who? We only have presents from Elmer Elf, Blitzen, and the Tooth Fairy under our tree; and 2) of course they're wrapped! conveniently color-coded so each kid has presents in only one type of paper (for easier sorting!)
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? both! all of the above! and blow up decorations! and blinking lights! and a nativity scene is a MUST! I also like it when the entire lawn is enclosed in like a fence of lights!
4. Do you hang mistletoe? no. that's a parasite, you know. kills things.
5. When do you put your decorations up? whenever I can. I think a better question would be "when do you take your decorations down?" to which I answer, "three years later when I move out of the house."
6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Grandma Merilynn's stuffing!
7. Favorite holiday memory as a child: Picking out our Christmas Tree!
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? Truth? What do you mean? He's very very busy--which is why we don't get presents from him at our house. We get them from the elves and reindeer instead. And also the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. And I am absolutely not kidding.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? yes. We always go to Aunt Kay's house, and all of the family draws someone's name, and we get 1 gift each.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? when we were little, my mom would sit in a chair with the box of ornaments and us kids would line up and she'd hand us each one and we'd go hang it up and then line up again for the next one. Now Kali does it (because she's pretty much a professional tree decorator)
11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE (and miss) it!
12. Can you ice skate? Duh! We used to build a rink in the back yard every year, and Niki and I would practice the Pem-Chinko (from the Cutting Edge). We got really good. I can also spin for like 15 seconds without stopping.
13. Do you remember your favorite gift? One year I wanted a globe more than anything, and I got it. That was so sweet!
14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you? getting presents, of course. Juuuuuust kidding! Being with my family!
15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? PIE!
16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Never actually having Christmas on Christmas.
17. What tops your tree? A golden Afro
18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving? honestly? If I've found something that I KNOW somebody is going to LOVE, then giving. But honestly, who doesn't like to receive?
19. What is your favorite Christmas Song? Frosty the Snowman. Then It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!
20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum? I've had better.
21. What do you want for Christmas? A tall upright piano
22. Do you attend an annual Christmas Party? every event with my family is a party--so yes.
23. Do you dress up on Christmas or wear PJs? It depends on what day, and what time of day we celebrate. One time, we opened presents on Christmas at 11:30 PM because I had to work the afternoon shift at the hospital, so I wore my scrubs.
24. Do you own a Santa hat? No
25. Who do you normally spend Christmas with? My FAMILY!
**Now, I am to tag some others who will answer the questions and pass the tag along !!
Emily
Lindsay
Naomi
Danny
1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Neither! Christmas CUSTARD!!! (extra chunky!)
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? I have two things to say about this one: 1) Santa who? We only have presents from Elmer Elf, Blitzen, and the Tooth Fairy under our tree; and 2) of course they're wrapped! conveniently color-coded so each kid has presents in only one type of paper (for easier sorting!)
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? both! all of the above! and blow up decorations! and blinking lights! and a nativity scene is a MUST! I also like it when the entire lawn is enclosed in like a fence of lights!
4. Do you hang mistletoe? no. that's a parasite, you know. kills things.
5. When do you put your decorations up? whenever I can. I think a better question would be "when do you take your decorations down?" to which I answer, "three years later when I move out of the house."
6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Grandma Merilynn's stuffing!
7. Favorite holiday memory as a child: Picking out our Christmas Tree!
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? Truth? What do you mean? He's very very busy--which is why we don't get presents from him at our house. We get them from the elves and reindeer instead. And also the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. And I am absolutely not kidding.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? yes. We always go to Aunt Kay's house, and all of the family draws someone's name, and we get 1 gift each.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? when we were little, my mom would sit in a chair with the box of ornaments and us kids would line up and she'd hand us each one and we'd go hang it up and then line up again for the next one. Now Kali does it (because she's pretty much a professional tree decorator)
11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE (and miss) it!
12. Can you ice skate? Duh! We used to build a rink in the back yard every year, and Niki and I would practice the Pem-Chinko (from the Cutting Edge). We got really good. I can also spin for like 15 seconds without stopping.
13. Do you remember your favorite gift? One year I wanted a globe more than anything, and I got it. That was so sweet!
14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you? getting presents, of course. Juuuuuust kidding! Being with my family!
15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? PIE!
16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Never actually having Christmas on Christmas.
17. What tops your tree? A golden Afro
18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving? honestly? If I've found something that I KNOW somebody is going to LOVE, then giving. But honestly, who doesn't like to receive?
19. What is your favorite Christmas Song? Frosty the Snowman. Then It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!
20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum? I've had better.
21. What do you want for Christmas? A tall upright piano
22. Do you attend an annual Christmas Party? every event with my family is a party--so yes.
23. Do you dress up on Christmas or wear PJs? It depends on what day, and what time of day we celebrate. One time, we opened presents on Christmas at 11:30 PM because I had to work the afternoon shift at the hospital, so I wore my scrubs.
24. Do you own a Santa hat? No
25. Who do you normally spend Christmas with? My FAMILY!
**Now, I am to tag some others who will answer the questions and pass the tag along !!
Emily
Lindsay
Naomi
Danny
Friday, October 31, 2008
The Offer of a Lifetime!
Friends, family, stalkers, and strangers alike: I have an announcement to make!
I have decided to start my own business. Using my own enterprise and capitalizing off of a skill which I proudly possess, I have decided to share with you my endeavors so you may benefit from it also!
I have decided to become a professional book labeler.
Here's my pitch:
Are you an avid reader?
A college student?
A teacher who loans out books to students?
An overly possessive person who is afraid to share?
Or do you just have a lot of books?
If you answered, "YES!" to any of these questions, then today is your lucky day!
I am offering my services to use a permanent marker and write your name on the edge of your books! That's right, you heard me! You can solve all of your personal property problems by simply having your name on the top, side, or bottom edge of the outside of your books!
No more wondering if that book is yours!
No more feelings of poverty, or like you don't have any possessions.
With your name proudly displayed on your books, everyone will know to whom they belong!
For $0.10 a book, I can solve all of your nameless book related problems!
For this simple skinny, shiny silver coin, you get the following:
I have decided to start my own business. Using my own enterprise and capitalizing off of a skill which I proudly possess, I have decided to share with you my endeavors so you may benefit from it also!
I have decided to become a professional book labeler.
Here's my pitch:
Are you an avid reader?
A college student?
A teacher who loans out books to students?
An overly possessive person who is afraid to share?
Or do you just have a lot of books?
If you answered, "YES!" to any of these questions, then today is your lucky day!
I am offering my services to use a permanent marker and write your name on the edge of your books! That's right, you heard me! You can solve all of your personal property problems by simply having your name on the top, side, or bottom edge of the outside of your books!
No more wondering if that book is yours!
No more feelings of poverty, or like you don't have any possessions.
With your name proudly displayed on your books, everyone will know to whom they belong!
For $0.10 a book, I can solve all of your nameless book related problems!
For this simple skinny, shiny silver coin, you get the following:
- Your name, in large capital letters, uniformly displayed on the edge of your books.
- If you choose to label numerous books, each will be consistent with the next.
- Your name will be spelled correctly.
- You can choose what color you would like from a vast supply of Sharpie (TM) markers.
And now, for a limited time, if you contact me through this advertisement your price is only $0.05!!!! That's a steal, folks!
And here are just a couple of reasons why you want to hire me to label your books:
- You'll have more time to spend with your friends and family.
- You don't have to worry about tricky curved letters looking all funny and lopsided (remember, I am an expert).
- You won't have so suffer debilitating hand cramps from hours of book-labeling.
- You're supporting capitalism, and our economy.
If you are interested, contact me through this ad and I would love to talk with you more personally about our new partnership!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Bringing in the Tithe
These past few weeks at church, our preacher has been talking about tithing.
What's funny about tithing is that for some reason I never thought it applied to me. I was always taught to give to God, but the 10% thing wasn't mandatory. I was always under the impression that when you give to God, you give what you can. And stories like the one about the lady bringing her two copper coins in, while the rich guy brought his handfulls of money sort of fell in line with what I always thought. I don't have much, so God must understand when I give to him when I am able to.
That's how I thought things worked until a couple years ago. Now mind you, I still never believed tithing really ever applied. However, I came to the realization that when I trusted in God to provide for me, it was foolish to not give to him out of my blessings. And when I gave back to him, he seemed to continue to provide. It was a pretty sweet deal. It was nice to see a connection between suddenly having enough money to give because I had given trusting that I would be provided for.
This lesson got even a little deeper last year when I encountered God's providence on more than one occasion as a direct result of praying for it. You can read a little more about it here: http://pancakesandtea.blogspot.com/2007/07/short-and-sweet.html
But still, in my church background, the tithe wasn't ever talked about.
These lessons Mark has been preaching about tithing have been SO good! I have been eating them up! I was lucky enough to already have come to the conclusion through my personal blessings and experiences that giving my money to God shouldn't really be optional. And when I hold back, I limit my own ability to be blessed. But now that I realize and understand that God expects my tithe, it sheds a whole new light onto my giving. Now that I relate my money actually belonging to God to scripture (Malachi 3:8-12), it makes much more sense to me. And it makes me excited to know that God wants to bless me and provide for me.
I think what I take away from all of this new information on tithing is the way I will look at my giving. Instead of just gratefully accepting these random monetary blessings as God's way of providing for me, or answering my prayers; I also need to consider tithing these gifts too. They, also, came from God--just like my paycheck--and therefore belong to him.
I can't wait for next Sunday when our church collectively brings in the tithe. I can't wait to see how much God is waiting to bless us, and what he will do with Quail in his kindgom.
If you are interested in listening to the sermon series online, go to:
http://quailchurch.com/cgi-bin/MediaList.cgi?section=&cat=In%20God%20We%20Trust
What's funny about tithing is that for some reason I never thought it applied to me. I was always taught to give to God, but the 10% thing wasn't mandatory. I was always under the impression that when you give to God, you give what you can. And stories like the one about the lady bringing her two copper coins in, while the rich guy brought his handfulls of money sort of fell in line with what I always thought. I don't have much, so God must understand when I give to him when I am able to.
That's how I thought things worked until a couple years ago. Now mind you, I still never believed tithing really ever applied. However, I came to the realization that when I trusted in God to provide for me, it was foolish to not give to him out of my blessings. And when I gave back to him, he seemed to continue to provide. It was a pretty sweet deal. It was nice to see a connection between suddenly having enough money to give because I had given trusting that I would be provided for.
This lesson got even a little deeper last year when I encountered God's providence on more than one occasion as a direct result of praying for it. You can read a little more about it here: http://pancakesandtea.blogspot.com/2007/07/short-and-sweet.html
But still, in my church background, the tithe wasn't ever talked about.
These lessons Mark has been preaching about tithing have been SO good! I have been eating them up! I was lucky enough to already have come to the conclusion through my personal blessings and experiences that giving my money to God shouldn't really be optional. And when I hold back, I limit my own ability to be blessed. But now that I realize and understand that God expects my tithe, it sheds a whole new light onto my giving. Now that I relate my money actually belonging to God to scripture (Malachi 3:8-12), it makes much more sense to me. And it makes me excited to know that God wants to bless me and provide for me.
I think what I take away from all of this new information on tithing is the way I will look at my giving. Instead of just gratefully accepting these random monetary blessings as God's way of providing for me, or answering my prayers; I also need to consider tithing these gifts too. They, also, came from God--just like my paycheck--and therefore belong to him.
I can't wait for next Sunday when our church collectively brings in the tithe. I can't wait to see how much God is waiting to bless us, and what he will do with Quail in his kindgom.
If you are interested in listening to the sermon series online, go to:
http://quailchurch.com/cgi-bin/MediaList.cgi?section=&cat=In%20God%20We%20Trust
Saturday, October 18, 2008
A Day with my Favorite Aunt Kari
For this entry, I am inviting my very first guest blogger: Tyler Cash Erwin.
After we played for a little bit, she picked out some clothes for me to wear. I am pretty sure she chose this outfit because she knows how picky my mom is when my clothes don't match. 
This is my big brother Kody. He was visiting Aunt Kari for the last 3 weeks, but he's home now! He mostly thinks he's too cool for me, but sometimes I can get him to listen and then we can play like good brothers.
He calls this entry, "A Day With My Favorite Aunt Kari."
Aunt Kari is so great! She came to my house to play with me for TWO whole days! We had so much fun!
Aunt Kari came into my room because she heard me singing to her. I try to sing as loud as I can in the mornings, just because I know how much she loves music.
Then she got me out of my bed and we went into the family room to play! She's so silly, though, because she always has to drink her coffee. She won't share it either. She's probably afraid that I'll drink it all--but really I just want to dump it all over the place!
After we played for a little bit, she picked out some clothes for me to wear. I am pretty sure she chose this outfit because she knows how picky my mom is when my clothes don't match. This is my big brother Kody. He was visiting Aunt Kari for the last 3 weeks, but he's home now! He mostly thinks he's too cool for me, but sometimes I can get him to listen and then we can play like good brothers. Aunt Kari is the BEST AUNT EVER! She sings to me all the time. She sings so many songs it's hard to keep up with them all! But there is one that she sings that I always love! She sings "You Are So Beautiful" and it's my favorite song! Every time she sings it to me, I stop what I'm doing and listen. I don't want to miss a single second!
She had to go home tonight, but Grandma Paula and Handsome Grandpa Jeff are coming to Oklahoma in 3 weeks, and they're going to take me down to Edmond to stay at Aunt Kari's house! I'm so excited! I love Aunt Kari's house!
Okay, I'd better go now. Maybe she'll let me blog again sometime!
Love T-Ca$h
Monday, October 06, 2008
Alphabetizing my Life.
I got this idea from my BFF Jennifer. I'm going to use the alphabet to tell you a little bit about myself. :)
A is for Apple Way. It was where I met my BFF Jennifer, and lived my first 2 years in Oklahoma.
B is for Batman. Batman has always been my favorite super hero. Jennifer and I were Batman and Robin for Halloween last year, and it is by far the best Halloween costume I've ever had (or been a part of).
C is for Caramel Apple. This is pretty much my very favorite treat. I love to eat caramel apples, while I'm driving, when I'm walking, when I go to the park. I love it when people assume I came from a fair.
D is for Dean Jones. If I was born like 70 years ago, and the current year 1967, I'm pretty sure I would be on my way to Hollywood to make sure he knew that we should be married immediately.
E is for Everybody Loves Raymond. I have all 9 seasons of this show and have watched them embarrassingly more than once. I have a small crush on Raymond Barone, and hope one day my future husband is as awesome as Ray.
F is for Fiber. I drink Metamucil 3 times daily to keep my colon healthy and in line. And apparently my cholesterol is amazing.
G is for Great Dane. My favorite dog in the whole entire world is the Great Dane. I have wanted one ever since I was in 3rd grade. I plan on getting my very own Dane next summer. His name will be Chauncey.
H is for Hula Hoop. I once hula-hooped for 56 straight minutes. It was pretty impressive. Mostly that I didn't get bored and leave.
I is for IHOP. I LOVE pancakes. Although I prefer home-made pancakes to IHOP ones, in my mind any place that is dedicated to making the world a better place by serving platters of perfect pancakes should rank a place in the alphabetization of my life. Hence, I for IHOP.
J is for Jennifer! Jennifer is my BFF, and she lives in Montana. We have gone on the best adventures, and we are actually twins. We dress alike sometimes, because we're fraternal twins--and we don't want to confuse people. You know, cause it's confusing when identical twins dress alike. We figure it's equally confusing when fraternal twins don't.
K is for Killers. They're one of my favorite bands. I think they're great. They remind me of Bruce Springsteen, and all of the reasons why I should like him. Except I can understand them. And there's no saxophone (no lie, that's not my favorite instrument)
L is for Law and Order: SVU. This is my favorite show, and I plan on incorporating the names Elliot and Olivia into my children's names when I have them. I hope my husband doesn't mind. Or realize where the names came from. . .
M is for Michigan. Michigan is my favorite state. It is the high-five of the United States of America, and I'm lucky enough to be from there. I love everything about Michigan, except for Jennifer Granholm.
O is for Olives. There are not many foods in this world that I do not like, but olives are definitely one of them. I can not stand olives. And since I'm well aware that tastes change, every year or so I try them again. I have hated olives every single year since I was 6. I wonder what 2009 will hold?
P is for Piano. I want a piano so bad. When I was in 2nd grade, there was a piano in my classroom and some friends taught me how to know which note on the page went with which key on the piano, and from there I became a piano-aholic. My parents got a piano when I was in third grade, and we got to take lessons from a lady from church I took lessons for 3 years, and got good enough that I could sight read pretty much anything. I have been known for sitting down and just playing the piano for over an hour at a time just because it was on the way to wherever I was walking.
Q is for Quicken. I use Quicken to keep track of all of my finances. I'm quite the little budget nerd. I save all my receipts, and make sure I'm not spending anything unnecessarily. I also use it to try to plan ahead and see a forecast of my savings, so I can dream about when Chauncey becomes part of my family.
R is for Rasheed Wallace. Rasheed Wallace is my favorite Piston. I think he is hilarious, entertaining, and also very good at basketball. I admire him so much, my car is named Rasheed, in his honor.
S is for Star Spangled Banner. Not only do I love my country, but I love patriotic holidays, events, songs, and rocket pops. Jennifer and I had plans to make an album of all patriotic songs. This idea came to fruition when we were driving in her car, Henrietta, to buy patriotic decor for President's Day and her radio was absent. We spent the entire drive singing songs like "Home on the Range," "The Star Spangled Banner," "You're a Grand Old Flag," and "America the Beautiful!"
T is for Torgo's Knees. Torgo is a character from "Manos: Hands of Fate." One of the best worst movies of all time. Torgo is a character who was a monster, but his monstrosity was his rather inappropriate and inexplicably large knees. When my friend Eric and I started recording music, our dreams of grandeur led to our very own band, Torgo's Knees. We got pretty famous, on Myspace. There are like 3 people who know about us, and occasionally listen to our music. We rock.
U is for Umbrellas. I think umbrellas are completely unnecessary. I love rain, and getting wet. Walking, running, and golfing in rain are 3 of my favorite things to do. Being outside in the rain makes me feel real, and part of something. It makes me feel strong. It reminds me of God's power, and providence. Rain, to me, means life. Water quenches our thirst, and I like knowing that when I am soaking up rain my needs are being met.
V is for Violin. I can kind of play the violin. I am very good at sightreading, but only mediocre at making the sound that comes out not scratchy. I try my best, but am always nervous when people can hear me because I honestly am well aware of how painful it can be.
W is for Winter. Winter is my favorite season. I love snow, I love grey skies and slush covered
streets I love scraping snow off my car in the morning, and the feel of the crisp air on my cheeks when I walk outside on a winter night. I like wearing mittens, scarves, hats, sweatshirts, and boots. And I love Christmas lights, trees, songs, and decorations. Everything about winter makes it my favorite 5 months of the year (in Michigan, at least. In Oklahoma, there's only like 1.5 months of it).
X is for Xylophone. When I was in elementary school, our music teacher would have us bring a poem to class and we'd get to be in groups to put it to music. Each group got to have one of the large xylophone or metaliphones. I always got to play the xylophone because I was really good at plunking out songs on it by ear. I'd like to think that if I'd pursued that percussive passion I would have been able to play the xylophone like a piano. I LOVE it when people can do that!
Y is for Yoda. Although R2D2 is the Star Wars character I sleep
with, Yoda is who I lay my head down on. That's right--you read that correctly. I lay my head down on Yoda at night, as I have a pillow that has a GIANT picture of his face on it. On the other side is Obi Wan Kanobi, howver I get way too creeped out at the thought of waking up and looking at a bearded man on my pillow. So I always sleep on Yoda.
Z is for Zoo. I LOVE going to the zoo. I think it's so exciting to be able to see bears, and lions, and otters and penguins all playing and having fun. I will go to a zoo any time of year, and would probably borrow a kid for a day or something just to have an excuse to go.
Now you know my ABC's. Tell me what you think of me! :)
A is for Apple Way. It was where I met my BFF Jennifer, and lived my first 2 years in Oklahoma.
B is for Batman. Batman has always been my favorite super hero. Jennifer and I were Batman and Robin for Halloween last year, and it is by far the best Halloween costume I've ever had (or been a part of).
C is for Caramel Apple. This is pretty much my very favorite treat. I love to eat caramel apples, while I'm driving, when I'm walking, when I go to the park. I love it when people assume I came from a fair.
D is for Dean Jones. If I was born like 70 years ago, and the current year 1967, I'm pretty sure I would be on my way to Hollywood to make sure he knew that we should be married immediately.E is for Everybody Loves Raymond. I have all 9 seasons of this show and have watched them embarrassingly more than once. I have a small crush on Raymond Barone, and hope one day my future husband is as awesome as Ray.
F is for Fiber. I drink Metamucil 3 times daily to keep my colon healthy and in line. And apparently my cholesterol is amazing.
G is for Great Dane. My favorite dog in the whole entire world is the Great Dane. I have wanted one ever since I was in 3rd grade. I plan on getting my very own Dane next summer. His name will be Chauncey.
H is for Hula Hoop. I once hula-hooped for 56 straight minutes. It was pretty impressive. Mostly that I didn't get bored and leave.
I is for IHOP. I LOVE pancakes. Although I prefer home-made pancakes to IHOP ones, in my mind any place that is dedicated to making the world a better place by serving platters of perfect pancakes should rank a place in the alphabetization of my life. Hence, I for IHOP.
J is for Jennifer! Jennifer is my BFF, and she lives in Montana. We have gone on the best adventures, and we are actually twins. We dress alike sometimes, because we're fraternal twins--and we don't want to confuse people. You know, cause it's confusing when identical twins dress alike. We figure it's equally confusing when fraternal twins don't.K is for Killers. They're one of my favorite bands. I think they're great. They remind me of Bruce Springsteen, and all of the reasons why I should like him. Except I can understand them. And there's no saxophone (no lie, that's not my favorite instrument)
L is for Law and Order: SVU. This is my favorite show, and I plan on incorporating the names Elliot and Olivia into my children's names when I have them. I hope my husband doesn't mind. Or realize where the names came from. . .
M is for Michigan. Michigan is my favorite state. It is the high-five of the United States of America, and I'm lucky enough to be from there. I love everything about Michigan, except for Jennifer Granholm.
O is for Olives. There are not many foods in this world that I do not like, but olives are definitely one of them. I can not stand olives. And since I'm well aware that tastes change, every year or so I try them again. I have hated olives every single year since I was 6. I wonder what 2009 will hold?
P is for Piano. I want a piano so bad. When I was in 2nd grade, there was a piano in my classroom and some friends taught me how to know which note on the page went with which key on the piano, and from there I became a piano-aholic. My parents got a piano when I was in third grade, and we got to take lessons from a lady from church I took lessons for 3 years, and got good enough that I could sight read pretty much anything. I have been known for sitting down and just playing the piano for over an hour at a time just because it was on the way to wherever I was walking.
Q is for Quicken. I use Quicken to keep track of all of my finances. I'm quite the little budget nerd. I save all my receipts, and make sure I'm not spending anything unnecessarily. I also use it to try to plan ahead and see a forecast of my savings, so I can dream about when Chauncey becomes part of my family.
R is for Rasheed Wallace. Rasheed Wallace is my favorite Piston. I think he is hilarious, entertaining, and also very good at basketball. I admire him so much, my car is named Rasheed, in his honor.S is for Star Spangled Banner. Not only do I love my country, but I love patriotic holidays, events, songs, and rocket pops. Jennifer and I had plans to make an album of all patriotic songs. This idea came to fruition when we were driving in her car, Henrietta, to buy patriotic decor for President's Day and her radio was absent. We spent the entire drive singing songs like "Home on the Range," "The Star Spangled Banner," "You're a Grand Old Flag," and "America the Beautiful!"
T is for Torgo's Knees. Torgo is a character from "Manos: Hands of Fate." One of the best worst movies of all time. Torgo is a character who was a monster, but his monstrosity was his rather inappropriate and inexplicably large knees. When my friend Eric and I started recording music, our dreams of grandeur led to our very own band, Torgo's Knees. We got pretty famous, on Myspace. There are like 3 people who know about us, and occasionally listen to our music. We rock.
U is for Umbrellas. I think umbrellas are completely unnecessary. I love rain, and getting wet. Walking, running, and golfing in rain are 3 of my favorite things to do. Being outside in the rain makes me feel real, and part of something. It makes me feel strong. It reminds me of God's power, and providence. Rain, to me, means life. Water quenches our thirst, and I like knowing that when I am soaking up rain my needs are being met.
V is for Violin. I can kind of play the violin. I am very good at sightreading, but only mediocre at making the sound that comes out not scratchy. I try my best, but am always nervous when people can hear me because I honestly am well aware of how painful it can be.
W is for Winter. Winter is my favorite season. I love snow, I love grey skies and slush covered
streets I love scraping snow off my car in the morning, and the feel of the crisp air on my cheeks when I walk outside on a winter night. I like wearing mittens, scarves, hats, sweatshirts, and boots. And I love Christmas lights, trees, songs, and decorations. Everything about winter makes it my favorite 5 months of the year (in Michigan, at least. In Oklahoma, there's only like 1.5 months of it).X is for Xylophone. When I was in elementary school, our music teacher would have us bring a poem to class and we'd get to be in groups to put it to music. Each group got to have one of the large xylophone or metaliphones. I always got to play the xylophone because I was really good at plunking out songs on it by ear. I'd like to think that if I'd pursued that percussive passion I would have been able to play the xylophone like a piano. I LOVE it when people can do that!
Y is for Yoda. Although R2D2 is the Star Wars character I sleep
with, Yoda is who I lay my head down on. That's right--you read that correctly. I lay my head down on Yoda at night, as I have a pillow that has a GIANT picture of his face on it. On the other side is Obi Wan Kanobi, howver I get way too creeped out at the thought of waking up and looking at a bearded man on my pillow. So I always sleep on Yoda.Z is for Zoo. I LOVE going to the zoo. I think it's so exciting to be able to see bears, and lions, and otters and penguins all playing and having fun. I will go to a zoo any time of year, and would probably borrow a kid for a day or something just to have an excuse to go.
Now you know my ABC's. Tell me what you think of me! :)
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
See You at the Pole
This morning, I was walking into the school building at around 7:20 and I noticed 3 girls standing by the flagpole. Usually, this is not the practice, as the kids are supposed to go into the gym in the morning until 7:50 when they're allowed to go to class.
I asked a fellow teacher as we walked into the building, "Do you know if today is See You at the Pole day?" He replied, "I don't think so. They might just be hanging out."
I always remembered going to SYATP when I was in school, but I never actually took notice of when it was. There were always signs or posters around school and town to remind me. I hadn't seen any, nor heard anything so I didn't think anything of it.
I got to my classroom, and turned on my computer. I Googled See You at the Pole and sure enough, today was the day. I quickly grabbed my keys and headed out to the flag pole.
I'm not sure what I expected to happen. I've never been in the role of a teacher standing out there--just always the student. I wasn't sure if any other teachers would be out there, but I wanted to go. I wanted to go because I want the kids at my school to know that I am a Christian, and that I am okay with anyone knowing that.
By the time I got out there, the group of kids had grown a little. There were now about ten or twelve and they'd started taking prayer requests. One of the little boys offered to lead a prayer. When he was finished, a few of the circle left to go inside. The rest of us just sort of stood there. Not really knowing what was next. It was okay, though, because God knew.
One of the secretaries walked by and stopped. She asked if she could stand and pray with us before she went in to work. She led a prayer, and during her prayer, more kids joined the circle.
Some of the kids had started asking for specific things to pray for, and I suggested that someone start the prayer and then anyone who wanted to add to it just speak up. The same little boy started a new prayer. Short pause, another kid speaks up. Followed by another, and another, more and more kids are joining the group at the flagpole. More and more kids are speaking up and praying.
These 6th, 7th, and 8th graders were praying for their school, their friends, their teachers, the presidential election, the soldiers in iraq, all of our churches, other kids around the country praying at the flag pole...These kids were praying for the kids who were walking by. The ones who didn't know why we were standing there--praying that they might ask questions. They were praying for the ones who knew why we were standing there and continued to keep walking. They were praying for opportunities to share their faith with each other. They were praying that others could see God in them.
I have never felt so blessed than this morning, having around 70 or so kids praying for each other. Praying for me as their teacher. Praying. It was so incredible.
I'm not one for publicly praying--it's just not something I've ever really felt comfortable doing. However, I spoke up to end the prayer. I prayed that everyone around the pole this morning would look around and see who their sisters and brothers in Christ are. I prayed that we would be able to show our love for Christ in how we act daily, and that we could encourage and be there for one another as this family of believers at Cheyenne.
We ended the prayer and the kids went into the gym.
I headed into the building through the front doors.
It was 7:50.
Time to start the day.
I asked a fellow teacher as we walked into the building, "Do you know if today is See You at the Pole day?" He replied, "I don't think so. They might just be hanging out."
I always remembered going to SYATP when I was in school, but I never actually took notice of when it was. There were always signs or posters around school and town to remind me. I hadn't seen any, nor heard anything so I didn't think anything of it.
I got to my classroom, and turned on my computer. I Googled See You at the Pole and sure enough, today was the day. I quickly grabbed my keys and headed out to the flag pole.
I'm not sure what I expected to happen. I've never been in the role of a teacher standing out there--just always the student. I wasn't sure if any other teachers would be out there, but I wanted to go. I wanted to go because I want the kids at my school to know that I am a Christian, and that I am okay with anyone knowing that.
By the time I got out there, the group of kids had grown a little. There were now about ten or twelve and they'd started taking prayer requests. One of the little boys offered to lead a prayer. When he was finished, a few of the circle left to go inside. The rest of us just sort of stood there. Not really knowing what was next. It was okay, though, because God knew.
One of the secretaries walked by and stopped. She asked if she could stand and pray with us before she went in to work. She led a prayer, and during her prayer, more kids joined the circle.
Some of the kids had started asking for specific things to pray for, and I suggested that someone start the prayer and then anyone who wanted to add to it just speak up. The same little boy started a new prayer. Short pause, another kid speaks up. Followed by another, and another, more and more kids are joining the group at the flagpole. More and more kids are speaking up and praying.
These 6th, 7th, and 8th graders were praying for their school, their friends, their teachers, the presidential election, the soldiers in iraq, all of our churches, other kids around the country praying at the flag pole...These kids were praying for the kids who were walking by. The ones who didn't know why we were standing there--praying that they might ask questions. They were praying for the ones who knew why we were standing there and continued to keep walking. They were praying for opportunities to share their faith with each other. They were praying that others could see God in them.
I have never felt so blessed than this morning, having around 70 or so kids praying for each other. Praying for me as their teacher. Praying. It was so incredible.
I'm not one for publicly praying--it's just not something I've ever really felt comfortable doing. However, I spoke up to end the prayer. I prayed that everyone around the pole this morning would look around and see who their sisters and brothers in Christ are. I prayed that we would be able to show our love for Christ in how we act daily, and that we could encourage and be there for one another as this family of believers at Cheyenne.
We ended the prayer and the kids went into the gym.
I headed into the building through the front doors.
It was 7:50.
Time to start the day.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Something Beautiful
I have always loved hands. 
And judging on the number of pictures I found when I hit up google looking for something to illustrate this little entry, I am not the only person who feels this way.
And I am eagerly awating the day when I can have the beautiful hands that old ladies have.
There is something so comforting and so beautiful about the hands of an old woman.
I could look at them all day.
And judging on the number of pictures I found when I hit up google looking for something to illustrate this little entry, I am not the only person who feels this way.:)
Thursday, August 21, 2008
When I Start to Miss Michigan. . .
I have to remind myself why I am in Oklahoma.
And how hard it was to get here.
I'd wanted to be in Oklahoma since I was little. I wanted to go to OC so I could grow up and be just like my aunt Kim. I had decided on Oklahoma Christian right up until May of my senior year when I stayed home in Michigan (for a boy, no less) and went to Rochester.
Every year, since my freshman year at Rochester, I looked and looked for how to transfer. And every year, I got talked out of it. Something came up as a better reason, or a better opportunity to stay home.
I was packed and ready to move to Oklahoma in 2005, but I got sick. Then I got a job offer in Detroit. I stayed. Again.
Here's what I'm getting at, though.
Something about Oklahoma has been calling me. Every year. Since I was little.
But every year, when I've tried, it's never been the right time.
Enter spring break 2006.
My parents were in Oklahoma for Spring Sing, and I had talked about moving with them. We'd all agreed that it would be good to do sometime soon. Maybe that fall. Maybe the next summer. No definite plans. . .just knowing it would happen.
But while my parents were gone, I packed up my car.
I packed up my car, made plans with Eric and Becca Sharp to live with them until I could save up money and find some place else to live. And I left.
I still believe that I would be in Michigan right now if I had not left while my parents were gone. And I know I complain about missing Michigan all the time. But the truth is, if I was still in Michigan, my heart would still be pulling me toward Oklahoma.
I had to leave. I had to go be on my own for a little while. And I had to do it on my own.
I met my parents for the night on my way down, while they were on their way up. We said our goodbyes, and my dad did the, "are you sure?" speech. And we parted ways in the morning. Scared to death, but excited as I've ever been, I drove the 9 hours past the point of no return to Edmond, Oklahoma.
So when I start to miss Michigan, I just have to remember that I am here for a reason.
Sometimes you just have to pick up and go.
Don't look back.
Cry about missing Michigan.
And trust that I will end up where God wants me to be.
And how hard it was to get here.
I'd wanted to be in Oklahoma since I was little. I wanted to go to OC so I could grow up and be just like my aunt Kim. I had decided on Oklahoma Christian right up until May of my senior year when I stayed home in Michigan (for a boy, no less) and went to Rochester.
Every year, since my freshman year at Rochester, I looked and looked for how to transfer. And every year, I got talked out of it. Something came up as a better reason, or a better opportunity to stay home.
I was packed and ready to move to Oklahoma in 2005, but I got sick. Then I got a job offer in Detroit. I stayed. Again.
Here's what I'm getting at, though.
Something about Oklahoma has been calling me. Every year. Since I was little.
But every year, when I've tried, it's never been the right time.
Enter spring break 2006.
My parents were in Oklahoma for Spring Sing, and I had talked about moving with them. We'd all agreed that it would be good to do sometime soon. Maybe that fall. Maybe the next summer. No definite plans. . .just knowing it would happen.
But while my parents were gone, I packed up my car.
I packed up my car, made plans with Eric and Becca Sharp to live with them until I could save up money and find some place else to live. And I left.
I still believe that I would be in Michigan right now if I had not left while my parents were gone. And I know I complain about missing Michigan all the time. But the truth is, if I was still in Michigan, my heart would still be pulling me toward Oklahoma.
I had to leave. I had to go be on my own for a little while. And I had to do it on my own.
I met my parents for the night on my way down, while they were on their way up. We said our goodbyes, and my dad did the, "are you sure?" speech. And we parted ways in the morning. Scared to death, but excited as I've ever been, I drove the 9 hours past the point of no return to Edmond, Oklahoma.
So when I start to miss Michigan, I just have to remember that I am here for a reason.
Sometimes you just have to pick up and go.
Don't look back.
Cry about missing Michigan.
And trust that I will end up where God wants me to be.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Busted! (What Else is New?)
Funny how I wrote this post so long ago.
About an actual love letter I received.
And funny how I read it now, and it convicts me.
Because God gave us his written word so we could understand him.
All we have to do is read it.
Read, and read, and read.
http://pancakesandtea.blogspot.com/2007/05/love-letters.html
About an actual love letter I received.
And funny how I read it now, and it convicts me.
Because God gave us his written word so we could understand him.
All we have to do is read it.
Read, and read, and read.
http://pancakesandtea.blogspot.com/2007/05/love-letters.html
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Saving Our Environment--One Cookie at at Time
Now, I'm not one to get political (at least not typically in blog-form). . .but there is something that has been on my mind. My dad and I were opening up a delicious box of Kashi cookies, and were both dumbfounded at the ridiculous amount of packaging for a less-than-desirable 8 cookies.
Seriously. . .a two-ditch tray holding a total of only 8 cookies? First of all--name one person who can make 8 delicious cookies last long enough to justify throwing away a box, plastic tray, and a foil wrapper? [Well, to be fair in Michigan, we get to recycle those things, so Michiganders insert "recycling" in the place of "throwing away"] Secondly, do they think the effort required will make one want to savor the cookies? Or maybe not eat them as often? Because let me tell you--all that work to get to them makes you want to take more than one so you don't have to go through it all over again.
But I digress--this article isn't about obesity.
It's about lame amounts of packaging.
Aren't we supposed to be saving our earth or something?
You know, every little bit helps?
We stop driving trucks.
We spend thousands of extra dollars on products made from things that actually use more natural resources than they save.
And even more on cars that do the same thing.
We reduce.
Reuse.
Recycle.
We plant trees.
But how do we package cookies? Like they're going to taste less delicious if they're bent or broken.
Let's take--for example--my very favorite Girl Scout Cookie: The Samoa. Delicious chunks of coconut, caramel, and cookie all dipped in chocolate. Placed delicately in 3 rows of five in a plastic tray, sealed in plastic, and then put in a box.
Here's my proposal. My contribution to saving the earth. One delicious bite at a time.
Keep the box (I mean, that's a trademark), but lose the tray. Fill that clear plastic bag with just delicious and savory Samoas, seal it, and sell it. I promise you, not one person will complain about there being more than 15 in that bag. "But they'll stick together!" the scoffers cry. Again, I can assure you, the world will be a happier place when those hands reach into that bag and pull out not one, but TWO (or if you're lucky: three!) crunchy confections of chocolately caramel coconut.
Think about it, Girl Scouts of America.
Help make the world a better place.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Father's Day (and Belated Mother's Day)
I think this is going to be more of a Parent's Day post--because I didn't make a Mother's Day one.
I pretty much had the most perfect childhood ever. Because I had the best parents.
So here it is: an ode to my parents!
I pretty much had the greatest childhood ever. As long as I can remember back, days would start with Niki and I waking up and going to the brown couch in the living room to see what mom had laid out for us to wear. Niki would usually get there first, and trade our outfits. I never noticed, or minded. Then, we'd get in the car and dad would take us to Ms. Gladys' (the babysitter's) house. We'd always stop by The Looney Baker and drive through the drive-thru. If Sue was working, my dad would just have to say "It's Jeff and the girls" and Sue would be ready with my dad's medium coffee--little cream and 2 sugars; my glazed doughnut, and niki's apple doughnut.
My mom doesn't like this story, but it's one of my favorite memories. I think it shows how my parents really encouraged us to be independent, and most importantly: not complain!
My very first day of kindergarten, my mom packed my lunch in my red Duck Tales lunch box and when it was time to eat it I bit into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was a little over-jellied. That afternoon when I came home from school, I told my mom that she put too much jelly on my sandwich. I don't remember much of the dialogue that followed (I mean, sheesh! I was only 5!) but I do remember that from the 2nd day of kindergarten until I graduated high school, I (along with all my siblings) made my own lunch.
I will say, I'm super-glad that I wasn't one of those middle schoolers whose mom packed her lunch every day.
My dad really likes airplanes, I guess. I only recently pieced this together when he made a comment one time about how planes are so heavy and made of metal, but they still can fly so high. When we were little, my dad used to pile us kids in the van and we'd drive down to the airport. He'd park outside the fence, and the planes would take off and land right over our heads. It was always so cool, because they were so loud and so big!
My mom is the master of french braids. And when I say master, I mean MASTER! With three very fine-haired little girls, you have to be a master! My mom would braid our hair in anywhere from 8 to 10 french braids at night time, and we'd sleep on the braids so when we woke up in the morning, our hair would be all crimpy. [Note: in hindsight, this probably wasn't the best decision we could have ever made in our lives. . .but at the time it was AWESOME!]
Both of my parents raised us with a healthy appreciation (well. . .at least exposure) of working hard. We'd be out in the yard every fall, raking tarpload after tarpload of leaves out to the road. We always had to help dad stain whatever project he was building (decks, swingset, shed, etc.). My mom made sure that each weekend each of us kids had a main room, bathroom, and our own bedroom to clean, dust, and vacuum. We learned to appreciate how nice a clean house was, and that sometimes things that suck (like cleaning) are necessary.
My mom's family would have a campout every year. From early age, I loved being outside and covered in bug spray and sunblock, swimming in dirty lake water, eating campfire food and washing the dishes in fire-heated water.
I'm glad my parents made us ride the bus--even though the bus stop was 1/4 mile away. I'm glad they let us play with our neighbors outside, going on walks, riding our bikes all over town, hiking through the woods, and other things that some parents cringe away from fearing their children will get hurt or stolen. I know my parents never wanted us to get stolen or anything, but they still gave us that autonomy.
We got into trouble, and had curfews, and had phone and internet time limits. We had bedtimes, weren't allowed to watch rated R movies, couldn't take 2 snacks in our lunches, got in trouble for not minding, and all those things that parents get lots of greif for.
I love that by first grade I knew how to look things up in the encyclopedia. And by 2nd grade I did my own hair every day. And by 3rd grade, I could use the stove, oven, and my mom would let us bake cookies or pancakes or mac and cheese if we wanted to. I love that my dad would let me wear his t-shirts and tube socks to bed. And that he taught me how to play hard and smart at sports. And I love that my mom was able to crank out 3 dresses in one night for us girls to wear for any given holiday. And she always seemed to make even the ugliest fabric look awesome in dress form. I can't explain it.
I pretty much had the most perfect childhood ever. Because I had the best parents.Happy Father's day, dad!
And Happy Belated Mother's day, mom!
You're the BEST!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Here Comes the Bride!
As a girl, I--like most girls--am planning my future wedding.
And the Groom's Men, appropriately will wear: 
Those hats are super dumb, though. And VERY. . .over the top. So the boys (groom included) will wear these:
And finally, the part you've all been eagerly waiting for: MY DRESS!!!!!
I mean, that's how it works, really. The girl plans out all of the details, and the future groom (whoever he may be) is just the final piece of the puzzle.
I just wanted to share my ideas with my few close friends and blog-readers.
Here's the plan: Christmas Wedding!
I'm really excited about it, because winter is my favorite season in the whole year. However, Christmas is not my favorite holiday.
To anyone else, this would create a dilema, but to me, it won't. My wedding will incorporate both winter, AND my favorite holiday.
Here are the bridesmaids' dresses:
And the Groom's Men, appropriately will wear: Those hats are super dumb, though. And VERY. . .over the top. So the boys (groom included) will wear these:
Speaking of the boys, here is my handsome groom's tuxedo!
And finally, the part you've all been eagerly waiting for: MY DRESS!!!!!Sunday, June 08, 2008
Every Rose Has its Thorn
There is a saying that goes something like, "well if that isn't a thorn in my side. . ."
And from the context in which it (and similar phrases) are used, you can tell it's talking about something that probably sucks. You know, because thorns hurt. And if one is in your side, that would probably hurt really badly.
I guess what I was thinking about earlier this weekend was why a random thorn would be in someone's side. Wouldn't it be more powerful or descriptive to talk about like, say, a shovel in one's side? Or a knife? Pitchfork? Or are we assuming that the thorn is people-sized?
The obvious question: what comes to mind when you hear this phrase?
I don't know about you, but I immediately think of a rose.
Sooooooo
Think about roses, then. They've got thorns. All over them. Lots of people cut the thorns off. It's like the thorn is the enemy. Thorns hurt. We don't want one in our side. They're sharp, pointy--almost considered the downside of a bouquet of roses.
But why?
The rose doesn't feel the thorn.
In fact, the thorn protects the rose. It doesn't hurt it--not in the least. Without the thorn, maybe roses would all be eaten or something.
Why do we so often think of the thorn the antagonist and the rose the protagonist, rather than seeing them as a team?
Without the thorn, the rose would be weak.
And without the rose, a thorn is just a bother.
Alright now, here it comes:
Think about the thorns in your side.
The things that annoy you,
the people who drive you NUTS.
If they're not part of your team,
you're probably not the rose.
And from the context in which it (and similar phrases) are used, you can tell it's talking about something that probably sucks. You know, because thorns hurt. And if one is in your side, that would probably hurt really badly.
I guess what I was thinking about earlier this weekend was why a random thorn would be in someone's side. Wouldn't it be more powerful or descriptive to talk about like, say, a shovel in one's side? Or a knife? Pitchfork? Or are we assuming that the thorn is people-sized?
The obvious question: what comes to mind when you hear this phrase?
I don't know about you, but I immediately think of a rose.
Sooooooo
Think about roses, then. They've got thorns. All over them. Lots of people cut the thorns off. It's like the thorn is the enemy. Thorns hurt. We don't want one in our side. They're sharp, pointy--almost considered the downside of a bouquet of roses.
But why?
The rose doesn't feel the thorn.
In fact, the thorn protects the rose. It doesn't hurt it--not in the least. Without the thorn, maybe roses would all be eaten or something.
Why do we so often think of the thorn the antagonist and the rose the protagonist, rather than seeing them as a team?
Without the thorn, the rose would be weak.
And without the rose, a thorn is just a bother.
Alright now, here it comes:
Think about the thorns in your side.
The things that annoy you,
the people who drive you NUTS.
If they're not part of your team,
you're probably not the rose.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Math in the "Real World"
Here's some math for you:
Bruno is trying to put tile on his floor. He has a $250 budget, and his room is 10x12 feet. At the store, there are tiles that are 8x8 inches and the tiles are $0.75 each. How many tiles will he need? Does he have enough money to tile his floor?
This is a very typical math problem that nearly any 7th grader will be able to work out. I should know, I teach them day after day the process by which to calculate it.
So here's one way to do it:
First of all, we're dealing with square feet and square inches. We've got to either turn everything into square inches, or square feet.
For the sake of simplicity, I choose inches. Therefore, I have a room that is 120x144 inches (or 17,280 square inches. I've got to figure out how many times an 8x8 tile will fit into that space. That's easy--we divide 17,280 square inches by 64 square inches (the size of the tile) to find out how many tiles it will take to fill the room. A little division problem will tell you that you need 270 tiles. (You can check this by multiplying 270 tiles by 8x8 and coming up with your original room area).
So the answer to the first part of the question is that it will take 270 tiles to cover the floor.
But, the tiles are $0.75 each. Is $250 enough money? Let's multiply .75 by 270 (dollars by number of tiles) to get our total price.
And the grand total?
$202.50
Do you have enough money? Yes!
Okay, so these types of problems are VERY typical in a math class. I'm sure you've all done them. These are the problems we throw into homework assignments and tests and tell students, "This is where you'll see math in every day life!" And we draw pictures, do examples, use unit tiles and desktops to help kids understand how real-world the concept of area is.
I have no arguments against this. It all seems very logical, and simple. It reinforces multiplication concepts, problem solving, and most importantly: working with decimals.
Well. . .today I went to a tile store.
I went to a tile store because I want to tile my room. And I went into a tile store knowing about how much money I wanted to spend, and had a rough idea of how big my room was. I found a tile I liked, it was 20x20 inches and I wanted to know how much it would cost me to buy a tile. This way I, much like Bruno, could calculate how many tiles could fit into my room and if I would have enough money to get the job done.
Seems logical, right?
Wrong.
So, when I get there and ask how much a tile was, I was met with a baffled expression and a price per square foot. That wasn't what I asked! I wanted to know the price of the tile (which clearly was not 144 square inches). That's the only way I can solve this problem! There was nothing in my math probem that told me to convert to square feet and then calculate the price!
I was assured that my way was not the logical way to approach the problem--nor was it how tile is sold in the real world.
WHAT!? They don't sell tile by the TILE!?
So here's what's on my mind.
Why do we tell kids that they will use these things in real life without actually checking how real life uses math? Are my future math students going to one day walk into a tile shop and feel like fools?
This is the same conundrum that I ran into while I was in college. I was so tired of being taught how to teach. . .I just wanted to go out and teach. Because I am pretty sure that college couldn't teach me how to be a teacher.
So, teaching kids all these "real world" ways to use math. . .are we actually preparing them for using math in the real world?
Bruno is trying to put tile on his floor. He has a $250 budget, and his room is 10x12 feet. At the store, there are tiles that are 8x8 inches and the tiles are $0.75 each. How many tiles will he need? Does he have enough money to tile his floor?
This is a very typical math problem that nearly any 7th grader will be able to work out. I should know, I teach them day after day the process by which to calculate it.
So here's one way to do it:
First of all, we're dealing with square feet and square inches. We've got to either turn everything into square inches, or square feet.
For the sake of simplicity, I choose inches. Therefore, I have a room that is 120x144 inches (or 17,280 square inches. I've got to figure out how many times an 8x8 tile will fit into that space. That's easy--we divide 17,280 square inches by 64 square inches (the size of the tile) to find out how many tiles it will take to fill the room. A little division problem will tell you that you need 270 tiles. (You can check this by multiplying 270 tiles by 8x8 and coming up with your original room area).
So the answer to the first part of the question is that it will take 270 tiles to cover the floor.
But, the tiles are $0.75 each. Is $250 enough money? Let's multiply .75 by 270 (dollars by number of tiles) to get our total price.
And the grand total?
$202.50
Do you have enough money? Yes!
Okay, so these types of problems are VERY typical in a math class. I'm sure you've all done them. These are the problems we throw into homework assignments and tests and tell students, "This is where you'll see math in every day life!" And we draw pictures, do examples, use unit tiles and desktops to help kids understand how real-world the concept of area is.
I have no arguments against this. It all seems very logical, and simple. It reinforces multiplication concepts, problem solving, and most importantly: working with decimals.
Well. . .today I went to a tile store.
I went to a tile store because I want to tile my room. And I went into a tile store knowing about how much money I wanted to spend, and had a rough idea of how big my room was. I found a tile I liked, it was 20x20 inches and I wanted to know how much it would cost me to buy a tile. This way I, much like Bruno, could calculate how many tiles could fit into my room and if I would have enough money to get the job done.
Seems logical, right?
Wrong.
So, when I get there and ask how much a tile was, I was met with a baffled expression and a price per square foot. That wasn't what I asked! I wanted to know the price of the tile (which clearly was not 144 square inches). That's the only way I can solve this problem! There was nothing in my math probem that told me to convert to square feet and then calculate the price!
I was assured that my way was not the logical way to approach the problem--nor was it how tile is sold in the real world.
WHAT!? They don't sell tile by the TILE!?
So here's what's on my mind.
Why do we tell kids that they will use these things in real life without actually checking how real life uses math? Are my future math students going to one day walk into a tile shop and feel like fools?
This is the same conundrum that I ran into while I was in college. I was so tired of being taught how to teach. . .I just wanted to go out and teach. Because I am pretty sure that college couldn't teach me how to be a teacher.
So, teaching kids all these "real world" ways to use math. . .are we actually preparing them for using math in the real world?
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Parents of the Year
As I venture down this new path in my life: adulthood, I find I am daily pondering things that would have never previously crossed my mind.
Things like. . .
"What should I make for dinner? . . .Can't be anything that requires measuring, a mixer, baking, a sharp knife, or peeling. At least not for another couple paychecks. . ."
or
"I sure hope this toilet doesn't clog. . .I don't really want to go buy a plunger right now."
and the occasional
"I made these front door keys, darn it! I'm going to use them, even if I like parking in the garage."
But lately, the dream in my little grown-up head is to become a member of the club. The most exclusive club out there. . .the club that requires a small fee for you to enter the clubhouse and revel in the glory that is Sam. Yes, that's right. I'm talking about Sam's Club.
As I think of all of the glorious and unnecessary frozen pizza treats, containers of pretzels and animal crackers that would satisfy Paul Bunyan, and of course the CARTONS of gum I get more and more excited for the time (around July) when I will actually start making more than I am spending (ie. braces are paid for!) so I, too, can join the club!
I have wonderful memories of shopping at Sam's Club with my parents.
And this brings me to my story:
As long as I can remember, my dad's work has hosted a golf outing every year. At this outing, his work provides goodie bags with tees, hats, towels, balls, and best of all: goodie bags of CANDY!
Well, it was always my dad's job to assemble the goodie bags--which thinking back on it now I am pretty sure that was because he had 4 sets of little hands working diligently to bag all of the candy (knowing very well that leftovers were the paycheck).
In order to get these bags ready to be assembled, the Herron family would pile into the van and drive to Sam's club and pick out no less than ten different types of candy to fill the baggies. And I'm talking enough for anywhere from 70 to 150 baggies.
So picture this:
You're standing in the check-out line at Sams, and a family of 6 (a mom, dad, and 3 little porkers, and then skinny Niki) pulls into line with a shopping cart filled with nothing but candy. Hundreds and hundreds of pieces of candy. All shapes, all flavors, and the smiling faces of 4 kids.
That, my friends, is the picture of the Parents of the Year.
:)
Things like. . .
"What should I make for dinner? . . .Can't be anything that requires measuring, a mixer, baking, a sharp knife, or peeling. At least not for another couple paychecks. . ."
or
"I sure hope this toilet doesn't clog. . .I don't really want to go buy a plunger right now."
and the occasional
"I made these front door keys, darn it! I'm going to use them, even if I like parking in the garage."
But lately, the dream in my little grown-up head is to become a member of the club. The most exclusive club out there. . .the club that requires a small fee for you to enter the clubhouse and revel in the glory that is Sam. Yes, that's right. I'm talking about Sam's Club.
As I think of all of the glorious and unnecessary frozen pizza treats, containers of pretzels and animal crackers that would satisfy Paul Bunyan, and of course the CARTONS of gum I get more and more excited for the time (around July) when I will actually start making more than I am spending (ie. braces are paid for!) so I, too, can join the club!
I have wonderful memories of shopping at Sam's Club with my parents.
And this brings me to my story:
As long as I can remember, my dad's work has hosted a golf outing every year. At this outing, his work provides goodie bags with tees, hats, towels, balls, and best of all: goodie bags of CANDY!
Well, it was always my dad's job to assemble the goodie bags--which thinking back on it now I am pretty sure that was because he had 4 sets of little hands working diligently to bag all of the candy (knowing very well that leftovers were the paycheck).
In order to get these bags ready to be assembled, the Herron family would pile into the van and drive to Sam's club and pick out no less than ten different types of candy to fill the baggies. And I'm talking enough for anywhere from 70 to 150 baggies.
So picture this:
You're standing in the check-out line at Sams, and a family of 6 (a mom, dad, and 3 little porkers, and then skinny Niki) pulls into line with a shopping cart filled with nothing but candy. Hundreds and hundreds of pieces of candy. All shapes, all flavors, and the smiling faces of 4 kids.
That, my friends, is the picture of the Parents of the Year.
:)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Spring Break, Two-Thousand-Great!
Well, as I said in my last post, Jennifer and I were going to salvage our Northern-less spring break with giggling, packing, cleaning gyms, and going camping!
And as I also said in my last post, there will be pictures.
Here are are some of them from our camping trip. And as I also said in my last post, there will be pictures.
This is as close as I thought I would ever get to a buffalo! And in the safety of a car, it is pretty exciting!
That was before we had to ride our bikes past these big guys! It was WAY more scary!
Here is our tent that turned out a little bit special because it was broken and missing pieces when we went to put it up.
The fact that Oklahoma actually has a little bit of terrain has moved it a little up the scale from the armpit to being a pretty solid "OK."
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Pre-Christmas Letter
Hello, friends, family, random readers, and anonymous stalkers alike!
After a creative dry-spell (or really just lack of Internet connection conveniently coinciding with a lack of clever things to say), I have returned.
Now, that being said--I don't actually have anything specific to say.
Oh well. I guess this is just the general update. :)
I have signed the papers for my very first house. Kali, Jennifer and I get to move in VERY shortly. So shortly, in fact, that I can't even handle that it's not immediately! Don't worry, there will be plenty of pictures!
Now, to clear up something right here: buying a house does NOT mean I have set Oklahoma up as my permanent residence. It simply means I'm tired of messiness; tired of paying rent that doesn't have any return; and also that my food will not mysteriously be opened for me, or consumed by someone other than me.
Buying a house means that I won't feel like a post college student who doesn't actually have a home. It means that I don't have to feel like I'm living out of my bedroom. It means I can have a lawn to be proud of. And neighbors who don't grow their own weed.
I'm also growing my hair out (again). This time I'm keeping it my normal color. That will be an adventure. A really loooong, drawn out adventure that requires dedication, focus, and self-control.
Yesterday, Kali and I were driving and we came to an important conclusion.
It is better to be the girl who poops her pants, than to be the friend of the girl who poops her pants. Let me explain:
If you are the girl who poops her pants, you still have a friend. You just have poop in your pants. But you still have a friend.
If you are the friend of the girl who poops her pants, that means you are so pathetic, the only friend you have is a pants pooper.
What else can I update on?
This week is spring break. A slightly disappointing spring break, because Jennifer and I have been planning to go to Toronto for over a year now. However, last minute (literally, like last week) we both decided that it would be best right now if we saved the money and stayed home. As sad as I am that I won't be able to make a Michigan stop-through, I think it will still be a fun break.
Here's our plan:
Sunday: earn $100 by cleaning a gym
Monday: sand/strip table and chairs
Tuesday-Saturday: pack, re-finish table and chairs, overnight camping/hiking trip, sleep, giggle, possibly go on some sort of adventure (we have no actual set "plans" other than that we are FOR SURE going camping. No idea which days yet, though).
Sunday: earn another $100 by cleaning gym again :)
I guess that's all I really have to update you all on. Maybe there will be a photo chronicling of the break? Who knows? Stay tuned. I promise it won't be another 2 months until you hear from me again!
After a creative dry-spell (or really just lack of Internet connection conveniently coinciding with a lack of clever things to say), I have returned.
Now, that being said--I don't actually have anything specific to say.
Oh well. I guess this is just the general update. :)
I have signed the papers for my very first house. Kali, Jennifer and I get to move in VERY shortly. So shortly, in fact, that I can't even handle that it's not immediately! Don't worry, there will be plenty of pictures!
Now, to clear up something right here: buying a house does NOT mean I have set Oklahoma up as my permanent residence. It simply means I'm tired of messiness; tired of paying rent that doesn't have any return; and also that my food will not mysteriously be opened for me, or consumed by someone other than me.
Buying a house means that I won't feel like a post college student who doesn't actually have a home. It means that I don't have to feel like I'm living out of my bedroom. It means I can have a lawn to be proud of. And neighbors who don't grow their own weed.
I'm also growing my hair out (again). This time I'm keeping it my normal color. That will be an adventure. A really loooong, drawn out adventure that requires dedication, focus, and self-control.
Yesterday, Kali and I were driving and we came to an important conclusion.
It is better to be the girl who poops her pants, than to be the friend of the girl who poops her pants. Let me explain:
If you are the girl who poops her pants, you still have a friend. You just have poop in your pants. But you still have a friend.
If you are the friend of the girl who poops her pants, that means you are so pathetic, the only friend you have is a pants pooper.
What else can I update on?
This week is spring break. A slightly disappointing spring break, because Jennifer and I have been planning to go to Toronto for over a year now. However, last minute (literally, like last week) we both decided that it would be best right now if we saved the money and stayed home. As sad as I am that I won't be able to make a Michigan stop-through, I think it will still be a fun break.
Here's our plan:
Sunday: earn $100 by cleaning a gym
Monday: sand/strip table and chairs
Tuesday-Saturday: pack, re-finish table and chairs, overnight camping/hiking trip, sleep, giggle, possibly go on some sort of adventure (we have no actual set "plans" other than that we are FOR SURE going camping. No idea which days yet, though).
Sunday: earn another $100 by cleaning gym again :)
It's pretty much going to be amazing. Spring break has the potential to be totally boss.
I guess that's all I really have to update you all on. Maybe there will be a photo chronicling of the break? Who knows? Stay tuned. I promise it won't be another 2 months until you hear from me again!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Of a Rather Pressing Note.
I want to spend a little bit of time talking about toilet paper.
The reason I'm going to talk about toilet paper is that I went to use some toilet paper to blow my nose today, and I might as well have reached for a plastic bag. Or maybe some sandpaper? Or perhaps a non-absorbent bag made out of sandpaper?
I'm going to name-call here and pick on Scott toilet tissue.
Yes, Scott--you need to just give it a rest and stop trying to make bathroom products. First of all, your one-ply excuse for toilet paper is not only insulting, but in extreme cases--painful.
"But you get so many sheets!" loyal (underpaid) customers will implore. "It's more sheets than any other toilet paper!"
Well, I ask you, my friends: Does a couple extra dimes saved make it easier to sit down, then lay down, and fall asleep at night?
Anybody who has been schooled in the proper use of toilet paper by either me, my dad, or my dad's dad, will know that there is nothing you can wipe with 10 sheets of toilet paper that you can't wipe with 4 (neatly folded) squares. If it takes you more than 4, you clearly need to do a double wipe--which you would have to do with your un-economical 10 anyway.
This is, of course, assuming that you have good, absorbant two-ply tissue.
If your toilet paper is only one ply--the absorbancy of the 4 sheets is drastically reduced. This means to get the equivalent quality of the wipe, you'd need 8 sheets. And that's for those who are schooled in proper paper usage. The average person will use 10 (which now is 20); and the crazy people who "wrap" the toilet paper around their hands, will use twice as much as the crazy amount of 20-30 sheets per wipe.
Not to mention, this wipe will not even be comparably as soft as a normal toilet paper wipe. So you're using twice as many sheets (of your "so many more sheets") and you're punishing your poor butt trying to wipe it clean!
Weigh the options, my friends. Spend 25 more cents for a happy hiney and a longer-lasting roll? Or go the cheap route for 200 extra sheets of one-ply plastic baggie?
You be the judge.
The reason I'm going to talk about toilet paper is that I went to use some toilet paper to blow my nose today, and I might as well have reached for a plastic bag. Or maybe some sandpaper? Or perhaps a non-absorbent bag made out of sandpaper?
I'm going to name-call here and pick on Scott toilet tissue.
Yes, Scott--you need to just give it a rest and stop trying to make bathroom products. First of all, your one-ply excuse for toilet paper is not only insulting, but in extreme cases--painful.
"But you get so many sheets!" loyal (underpaid) customers will implore. "It's more sheets than any other toilet paper!"
Well, I ask you, my friends: Does a couple extra dimes saved make it easier to sit down, then lay down, and fall asleep at night?
Anybody who has been schooled in the proper use of toilet paper by either me, my dad, or my dad's dad, will know that there is nothing you can wipe with 10 sheets of toilet paper that you can't wipe with 4 (neatly folded) squares. If it takes you more than 4, you clearly need to do a double wipe--which you would have to do with your un-economical 10 anyway.
This is, of course, assuming that you have good, absorbant two-ply tissue.
If your toilet paper is only one ply--the absorbancy of the 4 sheets is drastically reduced. This means to get the equivalent quality of the wipe, you'd need 8 sheets. And that's for those who are schooled in proper paper usage. The average person will use 10 (which now is 20); and the crazy people who "wrap" the toilet paper around their hands, will use twice as much as the crazy amount of 20-30 sheets per wipe.
Not to mention, this wipe will not even be comparably as soft as a normal toilet paper wipe. So you're using twice as many sheets (of your "so many more sheets") and you're punishing your poor butt trying to wipe it clean!
Weigh the options, my friends. Spend 25 more cents for a happy hiney and a longer-lasting roll? Or go the cheap route for 200 extra sheets of one-ply plastic baggie?
You be the judge.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
On Death and Birth
Hello all. All 4 of you?
Since I have last written, much has happened. Mixed emotions due to two events on completely opposite ends of the spectrum have led me to, once again, opt for dancing over mourning. I don't mind it so much--but I sure do wish there was a balance.
Sunday December 23rd, KC Randolph died at about 5am. Many of the teachers at school talked about how it was almost a blessing that everything really happened in under a week--because she never had time to stop being KC. She didn't have time to really sit around and go through the "why me's?" or "what will happen next's?" of cancer. Right now, everyone is praying hard that her husband steps up to the role that he hadn't quite found his fit with prior to her death. Her 9 year old son is alright, from what I understand--not really understanding the magnitude of mommy being gone forever.
It is sad sometimes when God decides to work like this, but sometimes it just seems so easy to get over.
Maybe it's easy for me to get over, because while KC was dying and my school and fellow teachers were mourning, visiting, and attending her memorial service; I was in Tulsa with my family celebrating Christmas and new life. We had family Christmas December 22nd, shared a lot of laugheter and fun times. It snowed! And then the following Wednesday morning, Niki went into Labor and Baby Tyler Cash Erwin blessed us all with his perfect and beautiful presence. There simply couldn't have been a better way to celebrate Christmas!
I'm glad that God has things planned out already.
And part of me hates that I don't know what his plan is.
But a bigger part of me loves knowing that whatever plans I could have possibly made--to fix things, or control things, or to make everybody happy--God's perfect plan is a million times better and infinitely more perfect than I could ever dream.
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