A man obsessed

11Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

Poor Donnie. He caught the crud that zapped me over the weekend. It’s a funky tummy/sinus thing that makes you feel dizzy, queasy, stuffy and just…blah.

Sick or not, he will not unglue himself from the TV screen. He knows by heart all of the channels that are covering the Olympic games, and clicks incessantly between them all. He’s watched the men’s 150 mile bike race, synchronized diving, men’s & women’s basketball, swimming, soccer/football, and women’s volleyball (insisting that he liked the team games better than the beach volleyball. Yeah, right dear…whatever you say). I walked in the other day to find him watching women’s weight lifting and did a double-take at the huge Chinese woman on the screen.

The man even watched women’s gymnastics, something he used to make fun of me for watching. He’s obsessed, I tell you!

Me, eh, I can take ‘em or leave ‘em. I’ll be tired of it by the end of the week. Mostly I’ve marveled over the smog in Bejing. Is that some wicked-looking stuff or what? It made me wheeze, and I don’t even have asthma. LOL

Ten Random Ramblings

9Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

A few of you will have seen this before. Most of you haven’t. I am missing a really cool writers’ conference today because I am sick. Bah! So, have a laugh at my expense as you understand a little more behind the insanity that is me.

1. I love books. My dream home includes a huge library to hold them all.

2. I use hand sanitizer while shopping, at the checkout, and again before I start my car. Yes, I’m a germophobe, but I’m healthier because of it.

3. I spend entirely too much time online.

4. I just read 1, 2, and 3 and have decided that I am the biggest nerd on the planet!

5. I love writing, but no matter how many accolades I receive for it, I’m still afraid that I will one day be exposed as an imposter who only thought she could write. 

6. I love a clean house. Not much makes me happier than a clean house.

7. I rarely ever enjoy a truly clean house because at heart, I am a slob (who loves cleanliness, go figure!) who married a slob and gave birth to two sloblets. Let’s all say it together: “KARI. NEEDS. A. MAID.”

8. If I find a nightgown that is super-comfy I will wash and wear it until it is too holey to be decent.

9.I love burnt cheese, like the kind on a pizza crust, or what oozes out of a grilled cheese sandwich, or the edge bits on lasagna. MMM!

10. I get really, really cranky when I go more than a week or so without any significant time alone.

One of my favorite authors

8Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

I just love Max Lucado’s writings. He, Frank Peretti and Adrian Plass top my list of favorite writers of all time. This email I received today really touched me, and I hope I’m not breaking any rules by sharing it here. Earlier this week, I found out that a dear friend has metastatic pancreatic cancer. My heart is breaking for her and her family, and we all pray for her healing. But I needed to read this today, to be reminded that, as my dear old friend Jewel used to say in her quiet, gentle voice: “God knows all about it…”

When Death Becomes Birth

by Max Lucado

You live one final breath from your own funeral.

Which, from God’s perspective, is nothing to grieve. He responds to these grave facts with this great news: “The day you die is better than the day you are born” (Eccles. 7:1). Now there is a twist. Heaven enjoys a maternity-ward reaction to funerals. Angels watch body burials the same way grandparents monitor delivery-room doors. “He’ll be coming through any minute!” They can’t wait to see the new arrival. While we’re driving hearses and wearing black, they’re hanging pink and blue streamers and passing out cigars. We don’t grieve when babies enter the world. The hosts of heaven don’t weep when we leave it.

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Gas mask, anyone?

6Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

So, I’m just sitting here with my headphones on, happily writing this week’s column and listening to David Cook sing “Music of the Night” (ahh, be still my soul!) when suddenly…an acrid, almost metallic odor fills my nostrils.

I turn the volume down and hear hubby spraying something in the living room. I ask what the heck he is doing, and find out that he’s going nuts with the bottle of flea spray. We use Frontline/Advantage on all the pets, but he is convinced that a flea bit his ankle earlier tonight. Therefore, he decided that his bedtime would be a good time to SATURATE the living room in flea spray…forgetting that one of us was still up working.

Can I smack him? Please? That stuff reeks like some kind of chemical refinery and I get to inhale it for the next few hours because, with my deadlines, there’s no way I’m going to bed anytime soon.

Men. Gotta love ‘em.

We call her “Honey”

5Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

‘Cause she’s so sweet (most of the time)!  ;-)  I interviewed my grandmother last week for an article that was published in this week’s Conyers/Covington News and Advertiser. She loves sharing stories about her childhood, and I thought it was interesting to hear about these things, particularly considering the state of our nation’s economy.

Click below to read it…

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