Good grief! If I knew the last paragraph of Sunday’s blog was going to cause such a stir, I would have expounded upon it. So, no, there is no potential suitor yet; however, this time I did break through the preliminary stage of being considered a compatible female for the male population of e-Harmony’s website. Subscribed to a 3-month Thanksgiving special and have already received quite a few matches. Unfortunately, many of these males are in their mid-60s, but they say that 60 is considered the new 50, and, hey, they might be loaded but.... ooh.....too much of an age difference and have passed them by. It shouldn’t bother me that much since there is a 13-year age difference between Don and Nat; however, if I found one as good looking as my brother (sans the beard and bushy hair) then...
It should be an interesting three months. So, tune in again for another edition of Debbie’s love life (or lack thereof).
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
ANOTHER THANKSGIVING BITES THE DUST
November 22, 2007, has come and gone. It snuck up on us once again and seemed to come a week earlier than usual; others mentioned it so must not just be my imagination.
For the last couple of years Thanksgiving dinner has been eaten either in a restaurant or retirement center dining room, actually since my parents stopped owning a home. To the women folk, not having to prepare a Thanksgiving feast would be music to the ear but to be honest, I miss the hustle and bustle of a hot kitchen and the disagreements caused by having too many cooks getting in each other’s way. Maybe it’s the homemade taste but think it’s more of having done something special for those you love. This year Mom said I could fix the meal at their place but politely declined. It still would not be the same. Of course, my place is too small and a majority of those cooking utensils are in storage. Maybe when I move and get that nice apartment Mom thinks I deserve...
On Thursday, Dad was able to go down to dinner. The first time he has been down since coming home from surgery, and he actually packed it away, including a piece of pecan and pumpkin pie. Several months ago the dining room changed the “rules”--no “take out” if eating downstairs--however, there was an extra piece of pecan pie on our table and knew it would be trashed, so Debbie had no problem sneaking it out in two of those cheap paper napkins. What were they going to do, arrest me? But Mom and Dad had no problem with it. I also will admit to having done that in eating establishments in the past for a different reason--if it’s left and I’m paying for it, it’s going with me. And before you ask, no, there was never any premeditation involved--never got something with the intent of taking it home.
The next several hours were spent in front of the TV--Don insisted there would be football with Thanksgiving--but he kept surfing the channels. They ended up watching the Miracle on 34th Street, and I sat and read a Prevention magazine, but you’re with family; that is what’s most important. Wished Jonathan could have been there, but the distance was far too great to go down and pick him up and then take him home.
My calendar is usually blank, and if you were to ask me to do something even on the spur of the moment, I would undoubtedly be free; however, this weekend the plate was quite full. Practicing keyboard to accompany a friend for an Elk’s Lodge memorial service. Going out of town to spend some quality time with special friends. Visited, ate, watched TV, played board games... What is it about board games that when the competition gets fierce, the horns come out and shocking phrases spill out of the mouth. Oh, I was quite disillusioned with a particular individual, but she is still A-OK in my book.
Guess it still bothers me that I’m not very talkative especially in bigger groups, although Jonathan would disagree, but that’s who I am and there’s nothing wrong with that; however, I have never laughed so hard for so long. Already knew these people were nuts, but at the end of our 24 hours together, that opinion was raised to a whole new level.
Great time. Great company. Great hospitality. Great food. Where do you find such an assortment of jellies, some even homemade, and juices where you have the choice of no pulp, medium pulp, and extra pulp? Not in any eating establishment I’ve ever patronized. This visit confirmed what I already knew--wish Carl, Jonathan, and I had met these fine folks many moons ago.
Another bonus feature to this weekend--I’m no longer an e-Harmony reject. Yes, this was one of the best Thanksgiving weekends ever.
For the last couple of years Thanksgiving dinner has been eaten either in a restaurant or retirement center dining room, actually since my parents stopped owning a home. To the women folk, not having to prepare a Thanksgiving feast would be music to the ear but to be honest, I miss the hustle and bustle of a hot kitchen and the disagreements caused by having too many cooks getting in each other’s way. Maybe it’s the homemade taste but think it’s more of having done something special for those you love. This year Mom said I could fix the meal at their place but politely declined. It still would not be the same. Of course, my place is too small and a majority of those cooking utensils are in storage. Maybe when I move and get that nice apartment Mom thinks I deserve...
On Thursday, Dad was able to go down to dinner. The first time he has been down since coming home from surgery, and he actually packed it away, including a piece of pecan and pumpkin pie. Several months ago the dining room changed the “rules”--no “take out” if eating downstairs--however, there was an extra piece of pecan pie on our table and knew it would be trashed, so Debbie had no problem sneaking it out in two of those cheap paper napkins. What were they going to do, arrest me? But Mom and Dad had no problem with it. I also will admit to having done that in eating establishments in the past for a different reason--if it’s left and I’m paying for it, it’s going with me. And before you ask, no, there was never any premeditation involved--never got something with the intent of taking it home.
The next several hours were spent in front of the TV--Don insisted there would be football with Thanksgiving--but he kept surfing the channels. They ended up watching the Miracle on 34th Street, and I sat and read a Prevention magazine, but you’re with family; that is what’s most important. Wished Jonathan could have been there, but the distance was far too great to go down and pick him up and then take him home.
My calendar is usually blank, and if you were to ask me to do something even on the spur of the moment, I would undoubtedly be free; however, this weekend the plate was quite full. Practicing keyboard to accompany a friend for an Elk’s Lodge memorial service. Going out of town to spend some quality time with special friends. Visited, ate, watched TV, played board games... What is it about board games that when the competition gets fierce, the horns come out and shocking phrases spill out of the mouth. Oh, I was quite disillusioned with a particular individual, but she is still A-OK in my book.
Guess it still bothers me that I’m not very talkative especially in bigger groups, although Jonathan would disagree, but that’s who I am and there’s nothing wrong with that; however, I have never laughed so hard for so long. Already knew these people were nuts, but at the end of our 24 hours together, that opinion was raised to a whole new level.
Great time. Great company. Great hospitality. Great food. Where do you find such an assortment of jellies, some even homemade, and juices where you have the choice of no pulp, medium pulp, and extra pulp? Not in any eating establishment I’ve ever patronized. This visit confirmed what I already knew--wish Carl, Jonathan, and I had met these fine folks many moons ago.
Another bonus feature to this weekend--I’m no longer an e-Harmony reject. Yes, this was one of the best Thanksgiving weekends ever.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
AIN’T IT PRETTY!
Remember the days of “Show and Tell” in elementary school? If Dad had this done 40 years ago, doubt I would have taken him to school to show off the scars, but he's sure proud of them. However, this last one was a beaut and just felt the need to share it with my loyal subjects. In my opinion the artistic, meticulous detail of Dr. S’s work was extraordinary! Such symmetry! It actually is in alignment with the bypass scar.
All the kidding aside, it’s good to have Dad back home. He’s doing okay, although quite weak and still awaiting the results of the pathology report. But whatever the outcome, we’ll face it one day at a time with God’s help and the prayers, thoughts, and concerns of all our friends and loved ones (guess our friends are also our loved ones, though, huh?).
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
FAMILIAR TERRITORY
Here we sit once again in a hospital waiting room. Although in a different room on a different floor, the reasons are still the same. Waiting while Dad has surgery. Waiting to be informed of the results of the surgery. Waiting to see Dad in the recovery room.
This summer after receiving a pacemaker, having a triple bypass, and being in the hospital for a 10-week stretch, Dad is in the final stage of resolving all of his known health issues--colon surgery. Removing the large mass that has caused his anemia since first being diagnosed in April. Not encouraging news back then with regard to the tumor being cancerous, but the doctor believed it was localized. Hopefully that part will still be the case.
As we sat, Don made a crack that it was nice being together to visit. I call it a crack because we were sitting there in silence--Don on his laptop writing articles for the school district, Mom reading, and me writing a blog. However, we had just had a long visit on Saturday, so it didn’t appear rude, but we did talk a little more as the time dragged on.
After about three hours, the doctor informed us that Dad was doing fine and the surgery went as expected. The surgeon still believes the tumor is cancerous but that will be a pathologist’s call and those results will be known sometime next week. Dr. S said we’ll just take this one day at a time. Since Dad could be in recovery a good three hours, Don took us to lunch at the Yard House in downtown Long Beach. Although Mom and I weren’t too hungry, according to Don--we all seemed to “do some damage.”
Returned to the hospital two hours later. Dad was still in recovery and could only have one visitor. It made sense to let Mom be the one to go. She came back through the double doors after only a few minutes. Dad was not at all comfortable and drifting in and out of sleep. Don tried to go see him so he could head back home but the nursing staff was busy with Dad--probably checking vitals and administering some more “happy juice.“ We all decided to head on home.
Received a call from a staff member that Dad was now in a hospital room. Mom and I will go see him for a little while. Think we can take a deep breath and sigh of relief that the home stretch is near. It’s been quite an ordeal these last few months, especially for Mom. She seems so tired today.
This summer after receiving a pacemaker, having a triple bypass, and being in the hospital for a 10-week stretch, Dad is in the final stage of resolving all of his known health issues--colon surgery. Removing the large mass that has caused his anemia since first being diagnosed in April. Not encouraging news back then with regard to the tumor being cancerous, but the doctor believed it was localized. Hopefully that part will still be the case.
As we sat, Don made a crack that it was nice being together to visit. I call it a crack because we were sitting there in silence--Don on his laptop writing articles for the school district, Mom reading, and me writing a blog. However, we had just had a long visit on Saturday, so it didn’t appear rude, but we did talk a little more as the time dragged on.
After about three hours, the doctor informed us that Dad was doing fine and the surgery went as expected. The surgeon still believes the tumor is cancerous but that will be a pathologist’s call and those results will be known sometime next week. Dr. S said we’ll just take this one day at a time. Since Dad could be in recovery a good three hours, Don took us to lunch at the Yard House in downtown Long Beach. Although Mom and I weren’t too hungry, according to Don--we all seemed to “do some damage.”
Returned to the hospital two hours later. Dad was still in recovery and could only have one visitor. It made sense to let Mom be the one to go. She came back through the double doors after only a few minutes. Dad was not at all comfortable and drifting in and out of sleep. Don tried to go see him so he could head back home but the nursing staff was busy with Dad--probably checking vitals and administering some more “happy juice.“ We all decided to head on home.
Received a call from a staff member that Dad was now in a hospital room. Mom and I will go see him for a little while. Think we can take a deep breath and sigh of relief that the home stretch is near. It’s been quite an ordeal these last few months, especially for Mom. She seems so tired today.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
DON’T GIVE UP
Don’t get discouraged. Don’t lose hope. Things will turn around. This too shall pass. I constantly have to repeat these things to myself, but it sure is hard to keep the chin up. The job search has continued and interview after interview still leads to nowhere; however, there has been one consolation--I still have that 15-hour a week job and now get to work some additional hours every week. Jonathan is also having enormous difficulty landing a job and it really takes great human strength for me to tell him those same reminders.
In the Believing God series, the concept of miracles is discussed. The Old and New Testament is full of signs and wonders. Wonders never cease--we just tend to believe our own eyes and not the fact that God can do what He says He can do. Beth Moore says it all, “The world is in desperate need of a true spiritual awakening. The church is in desperate need of great revival. Believers are in desperate need of a fresh infusion of faith. Beloved, we need some miracles.” After going through this particular part of the lessons, I decided that it would take a miracle for us to find suitable employment.
Call it bad karma or bad luck, but it seems like everything that Jonathan does or touches goes south and only a creative writer could possibly come up with some of the predicaments Jonathan gets into, and I seemingly have to resolve. Although not always his fault, and I would have to admit some culpability in a few of the outcomes, Jonathan has a tendency to not consider the consequences of his actions until it’s too late. Have you ever heard of anybody having two different cars impounded within a month’s time? Well, you have now. (Automobiles are a sore subject with me on many levels, so don’t get me started.) As you recall, last month Jonathan’s vehicle was stolen and tow charges were paid. Unbeknownst to me, he traded this car for another one from his friend. Another relic. Will spare you the ludicrous details, but suffice it to say, this week I spent a day down in San Diego County discussing the matter at the Police Department and the tow yard. After weighing all the options, Jonathan no longer is the proud owner of any motor vehicle. The only cost will be a traffic ticket.
Have tried to instill in my son to do what is right, but he has his own mindset and after going round and round with this kid, I finally said, “I think God is trying to tell you something.” Jonathan was thinking the same thing. Spent some quality time talking. Jonathan is trying to get into shape so helped him shop for a better selection of groceries. Since I was in the area, considered paying a surprise visit to some special people and get a tour of their new digs (residence and business) but some people don’t relish surprises and the surprise could have been on me--they might not have been there. However, it was getting too late anyway, so headed on home.
That night I watched an episode of an old Andy Griffith show. Opie received a straight A report card from his teacher. They all made a fuss over him, and Andy was so proud that he bought Opie a bicycle. Unfortunately, Miss Crump erred in transposing the grades and gave Opie his corrected report card. There was an “F” in math. Opie saw the bike but kept his mouth shut. Miss Crump apologized to Andy for the mistake which caught him off guard. Andy was upset and went home to confront Opie and found the runaway note. Andy found Opie walking and asked him why he was running away. Opie told Andy about his grades and had said nothing because he didn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him. Opie said he would come home when his dad could be proud of him again. With a look of embarrassment, Andy said he was proud of Opie for just being his son. Wow, did that smack me right between the eyes! Realized I would have trouble admitting I was proud of Jonathan because of all the things he has done and put me through. In that moment I felt shame and had to tell Jonathan that I was proud to have him as my son.
NEWSFLASH---Well, after yesterday afternoon, I definitely can say, “Yes, miracles do happen.” Excuse my grammar, but Debbie done got herself a decent, good paying job with a college district; yes, I said college, and not just an entry level position! Since I don’t like to commute will consider relocating, but will worry about that down the road.
Now, could we have at least one more miracle please?
In the Believing God series, the concept of miracles is discussed. The Old and New Testament is full of signs and wonders. Wonders never cease--we just tend to believe our own eyes and not the fact that God can do what He says He can do. Beth Moore says it all, “The world is in desperate need of a true spiritual awakening. The church is in desperate need of great revival. Believers are in desperate need of a fresh infusion of faith. Beloved, we need some miracles.” After going through this particular part of the lessons, I decided that it would take a miracle for us to find suitable employment.
Call it bad karma or bad luck, but it seems like everything that Jonathan does or touches goes south and only a creative writer could possibly come up with some of the predicaments Jonathan gets into, and I seemingly have to resolve. Although not always his fault, and I would have to admit some culpability in a few of the outcomes, Jonathan has a tendency to not consider the consequences of his actions until it’s too late. Have you ever heard of anybody having two different cars impounded within a month’s time? Well, you have now. (Automobiles are a sore subject with me on many levels, so don’t get me started.) As you recall, last month Jonathan’s vehicle was stolen and tow charges were paid. Unbeknownst to me, he traded this car for another one from his friend. Another relic. Will spare you the ludicrous details, but suffice it to say, this week I spent a day down in San Diego County discussing the matter at the Police Department and the tow yard. After weighing all the options, Jonathan no longer is the proud owner of any motor vehicle. The only cost will be a traffic ticket.
Have tried to instill in my son to do what is right, but he has his own mindset and after going round and round with this kid, I finally said, “I think God is trying to tell you something.” Jonathan was thinking the same thing. Spent some quality time talking. Jonathan is trying to get into shape so helped him shop for a better selection of groceries. Since I was in the area, considered paying a surprise visit to some special people and get a tour of their new digs (residence and business) but some people don’t relish surprises and the surprise could have been on me--they might not have been there. However, it was getting too late anyway, so headed on home.
That night I watched an episode of an old Andy Griffith show. Opie received a straight A report card from his teacher. They all made a fuss over him, and Andy was so proud that he bought Opie a bicycle. Unfortunately, Miss Crump erred in transposing the grades and gave Opie his corrected report card. There was an “F” in math. Opie saw the bike but kept his mouth shut. Miss Crump apologized to Andy for the mistake which caught him off guard. Andy was upset and went home to confront Opie and found the runaway note. Andy found Opie walking and asked him why he was running away. Opie told Andy about his grades and had said nothing because he didn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him. Opie said he would come home when his dad could be proud of him again. With a look of embarrassment, Andy said he was proud of Opie for just being his son. Wow, did that smack me right between the eyes! Realized I would have trouble admitting I was proud of Jonathan because of all the things he has done and put me through. In that moment I felt shame and had to tell Jonathan that I was proud to have him as my son.
NEWSFLASH---Well, after yesterday afternoon, I definitely can say, “Yes, miracles do happen.” Excuse my grammar, but Debbie done got herself a decent, good paying job with a college district; yes, I said college, and not just an entry level position! Since I don’t like to commute will consider relocating, but will worry about that down the road.
Now, could we have at least one more miracle please?
Thursday, November 1, 2007
FOOTLOOSE AND FANCY FREE
An idiom to describe the word, “single” which has many synonyms such as only, solitary, unique, particular, and separate. However, in this instance, I am referring to the synonyms: unattached, unfettered, spouseless, and unmarried; and in this case, a group--a singles group. Why do so many people cringe or get bent out of shape and want to steer clear of any involvement with a singles group? Possibly they don’t want to be labeled. Perhaps it connotes being a loser or undesirable. Maybe it’s the age difference. Or simply they don’t want to be reminded of their status. Of course, some married individuals would love to be included in this group once again.
Speaking as a member of the single population, I admit at times being considered a single person is non too flattering, but it’s who I am and being a part of any group gives me a sense of belonging. Although a bigger congregation lends for bigger group participation, it can hamper a close camaraderie among its members; but in a small church, it’s hard to get enough participants. Although Long Beach is a small church and it has been difficult to spark an interest, we do have a singles group with only a limited number, but a faithful number nonetheless.
Last month we went out to lunch after Sunday morning service. The total number in attendance was seven, but we had a good time. Didn’t want it just to be strictly a time for socializing, so plan to undertake different types of projects throughout the year.
On Saturday, five of us met to clean the church kitchen. A filthy mess. A kitchen that should have been shut down by the health department a long time ago. We had an arsenal of rags, buckets, degreaser, Comet, Lysol, vacuum, mop, broom, ladder, and stepstool. We each took a section and cleaned from inside to outside, top to bottom, all the while reorganizing all contents in the cabinets and drawers and on the countertops. Scrubbed and scoured. Bent and knelt. Climbed and reached. Yes, we all got down and dirty and called it quits after six hours. Although Joe mopped the entire floor, we only managed to finish one-half of the kitchen. Despite having to endure Joe’s old-time ditty every time Comet was mentioned, and an almost attempt at pole dancing (you had to have been there), we had a lot of laughs and think everyone felt good about what had been done. It was determined that every fifth Saturday, the singles group would undertake the ministry of cleaning the church kitchen.
Besides the laughter, there were a lot of barbs, jabs, sarcasm, and snide remarks. Yes, Barbara, Peggy, Joe, Cindy, and I definitely turned into a close knit family.
Speaking as a member of the single population, I admit at times being considered a single person is non too flattering, but it’s who I am and being a part of any group gives me a sense of belonging. Although a bigger congregation lends for bigger group participation, it can hamper a close camaraderie among its members; but in a small church, it’s hard to get enough participants. Although Long Beach is a small church and it has been difficult to spark an interest, we do have a singles group with only a limited number, but a faithful number nonetheless.
Last month we went out to lunch after Sunday morning service. The total number in attendance was seven, but we had a good time. Didn’t want it just to be strictly a time for socializing, so plan to undertake different types of projects throughout the year.
On Saturday, five of us met to clean the church kitchen. A filthy mess. A kitchen that should have been shut down by the health department a long time ago. We had an arsenal of rags, buckets, degreaser, Comet, Lysol, vacuum, mop, broom, ladder, and stepstool. We each took a section and cleaned from inside to outside, top to bottom, all the while reorganizing all contents in the cabinets and drawers and on the countertops. Scrubbed and scoured. Bent and knelt. Climbed and reached. Yes, we all got down and dirty and called it quits after six hours. Although Joe mopped the entire floor, we only managed to finish one-half of the kitchen. Despite having to endure Joe’s old-time ditty every time Comet was mentioned, and an almost attempt at pole dancing (you had to have been there), we had a lot of laughs and think everyone felt good about what had been done. It was determined that every fifth Saturday, the singles group would undertake the ministry of cleaning the church kitchen.
Besides the laughter, there were a lot of barbs, jabs, sarcasm, and snide remarks. Yes, Barbara, Peggy, Joe, Cindy, and I definitely turned into a close knit family.
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