Monday, April 21, 2014

Say Goodnight, Stephanie


Doc gave me some codeine cough syrup because I have to get some sleep.  He asked if I have been around any dust or allergens recently. 

Let me see.  That would be "yes".

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Splotchy All Over

Steph:  "I'm going to Lowe's to buy paint.  Do you want to come with me?"
Jim:  "You're not going now, are you?"

Yet again, he has answered my question with a question.
This is called stonewalling, of which Jim is the master.

There are many subtle messages for me here.  They might be:

"I hope you don't think I'm going to help you paint.  I hate to paint."
"You haven't noticed that I am a very busy man."
"There is nothing wrong with the paint in the bedroom.  Just leave it alone."
"You are mentally ill."

Jim doesn't seem to understand that women respond strongly to the environment that they are in. (Men do too but aren't likely to admit it.)  If I am in a messy, disorganized room, I feel messy and disorganized.  If the paint on the bedroom walls has faded to splotchy, almost-yellow, I feel faded, splotchy, and almost yellow when I'm in there.   On the other hand, a bright and fresh area makes me feel bright and fresh.  You know what I'm talking about, don't you?

So, you guessed it!  My cough drops and I are off to Home Depot for paint.  Bright yellow paint.  Without Jim.

What Passover Means To Me


Remembrance.  

A fresh start.

Freedom in the Lamb of God, Yeshua, the Messiah. 

Saturday, April 19, 2014

As I was checking the mail. . .


Will you look at that sweet baby's face!  He looks like a doll.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Phooey Phooey Phooey


This is the property directly across the street from the rodeo grounds.  The folks have a field of peonies that bloom right about Memorial Day.

Anyway, back to the rodeo.  You will not be seeing any photos of that for awhile.  Each photo has to be re-edited due to an operator error in Lightroom 5.  Let's just say that the program is not as "non-destructive" as it claims.  What that amounts to is about 20 hours of editing 500 or so photos down the toilet, which makes me want to throw up.

This is what photographers go through, I guess.

And I have a cold.

Front Door People


Here is a list of people who come to my front door:
The mailman (when he has a package).
The next door boy (to retrieve balls and other airborne toys from the backyard).
Young people soliciting support for "college".

Seriously, the bell rings twice a month, or less.

The activity at the back door is another story.  It is for family, friends, and the Orkin man.  

The people I love.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Selfie Through A Glass, Darkly


Okay, it's a soup pot, not a glass.