"I hope", said Gloriana warily, "that you are not going to suggest that I marry the American minister, because I won't do it. I've been reading about the Americans in a women's magazine and they're all cruel to their wives." "Cruel to their wives?" echoed the count. "Precisely. They treat them as equals. They refuse to make any decisions without consulting them. They load them up with worries they should keep to themselves. And when there isn't enough money, they send them out to work instead of earning more by their own efforts. Some of them even make their wives work so they can go to college. They are not men at all. They are men-women. And their wives are women-men. If I am to marry, I want a husband who will be a man and let me be a woman. I'll be able to handle him better that way." — "The Mouse That Roared" by Leonard Wibberley
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Grief is a fickle thing.
It's funny how it leaves you for a bit, and you become unguarded, and merrily roll along and then WALLOP, up side the head it comes. Maybe you noticed the date, maybe you smelled a familiar scent, maybe you didn't do anything except suddenly start bawling at this thing or that for no apparent reason. No... just a cat hair in my eye. No... just allergies of some sort. No... Christians shouldn't be so sensitive, you're right. And you wonder what on earth has gotten into you. It's not hormones... not time to PMS or ovulate... and WHAM it hits you. You still miss them. Achingly so. How can your heart contain it? Why doesn't it just burst and dissipate into nothingness like a vapor? You want to run to them for comfort, but they aren't there to comfort you. You want to run away, but there is no where to go that grief won't find you.. walloping you and whamming you relentlessly like waves. Except. In the arms of Jesus. The Steadfast Love of the L...
April Fools' Day has come and gone, and so has another birthday....
Happy Birthday "Lydia"! (Don't let her fool you with her candles, she's only four) ;)
Songs My Mama Sang
I love you a bushel and a peck A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap A barrel and a heap and I'm talkin' in my sleep About you, about you 'Cause I love you a bushel and a peck You bet your purdy neck I do
Modesty Survey
The Harris boys have released the results of their survey on modesty... Click here to view .
What happens when you let the heated water bowl run dry in winter?
For what it's worth, it's not our cat out there in a huddled mass. We aren't sure where he comes from, but we think he belongs to neighbors east of us. We don't know his name. We call him Jubilation T. Cornpone. Our cats live like this (or think they do)...
