Happy Blog Day!

You take 3108 (the international shorthand for August 31) add a little imagination, and you get . . .

Journalist, Go Home!

Last night I asked DH a question that I’d like to ask all of you: In your opinion, which group of people in general has caused more damage to our country–lawyers or journalists?

This question came to mind last night as we watched FoxNews coverage of the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina. At one point a group of people (I think they were National Guardsmen, but don’t quote me on that) made the mistake of carrying a tank of fuel past the camera. The FoxNews journalist flapping his lips amongst the carnage tried repeatedly to stop these men and ask them, “Hey, what kind of fuel do you have there?” The fuel-carrying men ignored him, but inquiring and importunate minds apparently must know the exact octane of fuel being carried through the Lake-That-Was-New-Orleans.

Long before this tragedy I maintained that one of the worst things to happen to our country was the 24-hour TV news channel. Think about it . . . if you’ve got 24-hours x 365 days to fill with information you’re going to start cutting corners. You’re going to make every storm, every kidnapping, every hanging chad, every child floating in from Cuba on a homemade raft look like the biggest event to ever hit the nation. You’re going to have to compete for ratings, so you’re going to do your darndest to “scoop” your opponents, often at the expense of accuracy (I saw this first-hand when my community made national headlines during the hunter shootings last fall). You’re going to become so immune to bad news from peddling it for so long and so often that you chase down rescuers to ask inane questions rather than shutting your mouth and keeping out of the way.

Frankly, I place some of the blame for the high death toll in Mississippi and Louisiana squarely on the shoulders of these newsmongers. If you live in Florida or Mississippi or Alabama or Louisiana you’re used to hearing about the “Storm of the Century” that produces some semi-serious gusts of wind and minor flooding. If you’ve safely weathered a few of these “major” hurricanes you start to ignore the warnings. After all, it’s a headache to pack up your family and your life to evacuate your home every time CNN cries “Wolf!” only to find that you’ve been falsely warned again. When superlatives describe the mundane no words remain for the radical.

So you see why I don’t watch the news channels very often. I think the country would be better off if a few more of us refused to support their insanity, but that’s just my opinion. And here’s another bluntly stated opinion, for what it’s worth:

Journalists, I view you with the disdain usually reserved for animals who scavenge the weak and dying. Go home and leave those poor folks alone!

After

Four days of brainstorming, shopping and painting resulted in this:

The quote on the wall reads:

“And Tirzah–her breath was as the breath of white lilies. She was the youngest branch of the palm–so fresh, so tender, so graceful, so beautiful! She made my day all morning. She came and went in music.”

I took the quote from the novel Ben Hur, which happens to be the first place I heard the name Tirzah.

This was the inspiration for the room–a quilt I made for Margie before she was born:

And here’s Margie with the artist herself:

Of course, no decorating project would be complete without the hunky carpenter:

Before

When I asked JP what she wanted to do during her visit here, she said it might be fun to decorate a room in my house. I chose Margie’s room, because I’ve been sitting on some ideas for that room for quite awhile. Here’s the “before” picture:

This afternoon we painted all the walls. Stay tuned for the “after” pictures–they should be up sometime this weekend, if not before.

"Skinny-For-Life" Update

I stepped on the scale this morning and discovered I’ve lost five pounds since I started Skinny-For-Life two weeks ago! I could definitely see this becoming a lifestyle. And I don’t have to be the Fat Sister anymore (I’m still the Hefty sister, Uncle Jay!).

This morning the kids and I are driving to the airport to pick up my best friend from college. JP and I try to get together at least once a year (she lives in Pennsylvania), so this is a big week for me! As a result, you might not be hearing much from me for the rest of the week, but I promise I’ll be back when the fun is over.

Or maybe JP and I will have so much fun that I’ll want to share it with the world. You never know.

Fancy

‘Mom, wookit! I’m colorin’ fancy!”

Giggle

I just searched my library’s online catalog for Be An Expert With Map and Compass by Bjorn Kjellstrom. The library system owns a copy of this book but lists its status as . . . LOST.

Guess whoever checked out the book really needed it.

Nine Years

It was nine years ago this morning my dad took my arm, escorted me down the aisle of our little church packed with a couple hundred people and gave me to the man who would become the most important figure in the rest of my life. I’ve no doubt God was looking out for me because I was about as impulsive and thoughtless as a 21-year-old can be, but things have worked out better than I could possibly have planned. God gave me a man who takes seriously his Ephesians 5 mandate (“Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her . . .”), never more so than in these past difficult months with Junior. He would rather spend time with his children than his buddies. I pray our sons grow to be like him and our daughter marries a man like him.

Happy Anniversary, Honey! Thanks for everything.

Happy Birthday, Daisy! etc. etc.

Happy Birthday, Daisy!

And Happy Birthday to Uncle Johnny! And Happy Belated Birthday to Auntie M! And Happy Anniversary to Uncle Bubba and Auntie M! Anything I missed?

Waving at G-knee

Thanks to a tip from my brother, tonight I contacted a friend whom I haven’t seen since my wedding almost nine years ago. Cheers to you, G-knee! You requested more pictures of the girls, but I’m gonna go ahead and post a shot of all of my parents’ grandkids:

l-r: Baba (holding Junior), Margie, Twiggy (holding Rocky), Daisy, Bird (holding Boo)

The three on the left are mine. The three in the middle belong to K, and the two on the right belong to M.

Oh, hey, Troy if you’re out there . . . you should have let G-knee know you moved!

And, finally, I got around to updating my bookmarks tonight. Some of them were starting to mold. Most of them are current now.