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.


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…


Our herpetological weekend

4Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

Ahh, summer in Georgia. The birds are singing, bees are humming, and my back yard abounds with reptilian and amphibian life. Thankfully, no snakes have been sighted yet, but we had two little visitors this weekend. First, let me introduce Tom Jones Slimy Allen, Jr. (Yup, there’s a story there…)

This little guy’s shell was less than two inches long. Poor thing was crawling around the patio but when it saw us, it cowered in the corner. After much pleading and begging to keep him, I made Zach come in and read online WHY it’s never a good idea to keep a wild turtle as a pet. So Zach reluctantly relocated TJSA Jr. to a safe area in our front yard.

I knew from experience that it was better to just let little turtles run free. When I was about Eli’s age, we found a small turtle in our backyard. Mom let us keep him in an outdoor planter box. I named him Tom Jones (after a favorite singer) Slimy (because he was a reptile, ya know?) Allen (our last name). Poor TJSA Sr. died…probably of shock, or perhaps because Al Gore hadn’t yet invented that miracle called the internet where one could find out exactly how to care for a little turtle. Anyway, the boys love hearing that story and they said that maybe this turtle was a distant cousin to his namesake. LOL! Maybe…you never know.

Anyway, that was the reptile part of the weekend. Last night, we drained our kiddy pool and when Donnie went out to scrub it this morning, he found this fat boy lounging in the few remaining inches of water.

Isn’t the pattern on his back pretty?

Anyhow, Donnie had to fish him out of the water. Froggie did not want to leave the water, but eventually he hopped out. This joker was as big around as my palm. Then I enjoyed witnessing a pure redneck moment as my three guys tried to catch him. Poor frog ended up hopping through the fence, but then the crazy thing came back for more. He was like, “Oh yeah, I’m the man, you can’t catch me!” Eventually I made everyone come inside and scrub their hands. Don’t want frog cooties all over the house, ya know?