Saturday, September 18, 2010

A Story That Might Put You In Stitches

As the author of this post, I have the right to grant to permission to laugh at me, should you have any desire to do so. I do not, however, possess the right to give you permission to laugh at the other individuals included in this "article". If you have their contact information, you may feel free to contact them and ask their permission to laugh at them, which you may then feel free to do as soon as you receive their permission in writing. If you do not have their contact information, then you just might have to hold your laughter.

As those at home (I'm in Iowa) haven't yet gotten around to posting the birthdays that have occured in the last few days (not trying to apply pressure, just stating the facts), I thought I'd entertain you with a story from last night while you, our patient readers, wait.

It was nearly ten o'clock, but it felt later than that. The boys had been put down just a few minutes before. I was getting tired, but not quite ready to go to bed yet.

Well, what was I going to do? I didn't have the energy to do anything active. The brain was in the process of slowly making its way to sleep mode, so it couldn't be too mentally challenging either. What's left?! Then it hit me..."I feel like working on my cross-stitching." That's exactly what I did.

That's not very humorous yet, is it? Well, it does get more least in my opinion.

So I've been sitting in the living room recliner (an extremely comfy chair, by the way), and working on my cross-stitching for probably about twenty minutes.

Becca and Jared have been in the kitchen, in the living room, measuring things in other rooms, coming back, sitting, talking...whatever, for the last, I don't know, fifteen minutes.

All of the sudden I look up and see Becca just staring at I was totally out of my mind! I'm thinking, "OK, What is so strange that she's looking at me like that?" She says, with great concern in her voice, "Jared, I think we had better get her back home as soon as possible. There is definately something wrong with her. I think we must have driven her crazy."

I am bursting with laughter by now. I hadn't realized that she didn't know I enjoyed cross-stitching from time to time.

I had to reassure her that I really was quite all right. I had even brought it along for the trip in case I ever felt like it. I told her that I had actually received a couple cross-stitching sets for Christmas last my own request. I finished one last spring that I had kept for years and just hadn't gotten around to doing it yet. I explained all this and more. It took quite a while to convince her that indeed I was still sane.

She did, however, have good reason to be suprised. For one thing, I don't necessarily naturally gravitate toward things of that sort. I also don't cross-stitch very often, and only really started in recent years, since she got married and moved to Iowa.

Other miscellaneous facts are that I don't have any reason to claim to be any good at it (this is only my second one ever), and that I am extremely slow (but who's suprised at that? It's not like it's the first category in which I'd be classified as slow... :-) ).

Now you've received some entertainment for the day. Hopefully you managed to enjoy it in one way or another.

I should almost be including a picture of before and after last night's work...but I'm not, so you'll just have to do without...and forgive me for it. Thanks! :-)

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Let Me Add My Voice

It is September the 11th.  Nine years ago our nation was attacked.  I remember that day relatively well.  There are bad memories: those of the attacks themselves, not knowing what might happen next, watching the news and seeing the physical pain and death, seeing the pain of those whose loved ones were killed, and the fear of those who didn't know whether their loved ones were dead or alive....  There are bad memories indeed, but there are also some other priceless memories.  I remember seeing policemen, firemen, paramedics, military servicemen, other emergency crews, and volunteers doing everything they possibly could.  There were so many who wanted to help somehow, but couldn't, or didn't know how.  Everybody was working together, checking up on their friends and families, hugging and comforting people they had never even met.  Many who had been unwilling to acknowledge God, now turned to Him for help.  The nation was brought together through this crisis, and many re-focused their attention on God.

I want to join in with many others who are taking advantage of the memories associated with today (and the patriotism those memories revive), and express my gratitude in some very small way to all those who sacrificed at that time, at other times in the past, and to those who are making daily sacrifices that I may live without fear and experience the freedom for which so many have fought and died to protect.

This is a general statement, yes, and I mean it whether or not I know you, however, I do have an ever-growing number of friends and family members of whom I am specifically thinking as I write the following note of thanks.

To all those in the military and other vocations of service to the United States of America (whether your service is past or current), and to all the loved ones of those in such service,

Thank you for your sacrifice.

My daily life and freedoms are influenced by the sacrifices you make continually for your country, and I can never be grateful enough.

May God bless each and every one of you for your willingness to serve, and may He protect you as you sacrifice all to keep your country safe and ensure its freedom .

God has used you to bless America!

Thank You!