Yes, I've been unfaithful to Xanga.   A long. long time ago, I checked out Blogger and recently remembered having signed up there. So, I started just innocently flirting with it now and then. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was going out of my way to spend time with it on a pretty regular basis. And now I find myself torn between two bloggers. Xanga has so many good qualities that are lacking in Blogger. But I've become quite fond of a few of Blogger's eccentric family members. OTOH, Xanga's family has become like my own. I love Xanga, but I can't bring myself to give up the other blog in my life But I just can't go on living this double life. So I had to confess. And I feel so much better now that it's all out in the open. If you come looking for me and I'm not here, I'll be over there.

Have a JESUS-filled day! ^i^

Hug a GI Day

Hey, y'all! I've been scarce for about a week now, nursing a very painful abscess. Pain killers can't get through the infection, so it was pretty much a matter of toughing it out till it ran its course. I'll definitely be checking out Belladonna 30x and whatever other alternatives are out there, just in case I ever have to go through anything like that again.

Anyhow, one night, as I sat up trying to breathe just right and keep any little draft of cool air off my face, I turned on the radio for a distraction. I don't know who was talking, but his message hit right at my front door. The first thing I heard was how Job, after losing everything, tore his robe and shaved his head, then fell down upon the ground and worshipped. WoW! I hit the floor right then and there.

It got me to thinking, as well, about my selfish attitude. Like a little child with a scraped knee, I ran to Daddy for comfort and healing. How many times over the past week did I cry out for relief, disappointed that it wasn't coming quicker? I caught myself once in mid-sentence... 'Lord, please take away this pain and heal this infection, so I can get back to...' To what exactly?! Just as a little child, I wanted Daddy to make it all better so I could go back out and play. Goodness, it's a wonder He doesn't just zap me with some kind of pain every day, just so I'll come to Him and spend a little of my precious time with Him. I am now determined to reprogram my thinking. Next time, I want to say, 'Lord, please heal me so I can get back to sitting peacefully at Your feet and abiding in Your Word. The playground can wait.'

Y'all have a JESUS-filled day! ^i^

188 years ago today, the United States and Spain settled a boundary dispute with the signing of the Adams-Onis Treaty - formally titled the Treaty of Amity, Settlement, and Limits Between the United States of America and His Catholic Majesty, and also known as the Transcontinental Treaty of 1819, and sometimes the Florida Purchase Treaty. As part of this agreement, Spain ceded Florida to the United States.

I kinda promised, when I joined a certain blogring, that I'd post something cooking-related at least once a week. I've been failing to keep that promise. but I'll try to do better from now on.

The other night, we tried a new recipe from Campbell's. Originally, we had planned on pork chops. but the package was ripped open. (Why don't THEY notice these things before they buy stuff?!) Anyhow, we substituted chicken. It was delicious! And too, too simple. (Hey, baby steps, right?)

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts*
black pepper (or whatever seasoning you prefer) to taste
1 can Campbell's Cream of Celery Soup ( we used the low-fat version)
1/4 soup can of water

Brown seasoned chicken breasts in large frying pan. Pour soup and water over chicken.
Reduce heat, cover and simmer 15 minutes.Serve with rice or noodles or...

*Normally, I would have brined the chicken first, but I wasn't feeling well, so DS took over kitchen duty and didn't want to bother.

EDIT: I should've said Christian historical fiction. This lady is very talented and I'll be very surprised if some publisher doesn't snap up her book and ask for more.

If y'all like Christian fiction, check out this sweet lady's blog. Scroll down to chapter 1 and enjoy!

http://fromaheavenlyland.blogspot.com/

Be sure to leave her lots of encouraging comments!

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you dont!
If you'd like to win, but think you can't,
It's almost a cinch that you wont.

If you think you'll lose, you're lost
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellow's will;
It's all in the state of mind!

If you think you're outclassed, you are;
You've got to think high to rise.
You've got to be sure of yourself
before you can win the prize.

Life's battles don't always go
To the strongest or fastest man;
But sooner or later the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can!

Author ~ Walter D. Wintle

From Learning By Grace newsletter

This spring, millions of parents across the country will wave to their children as they get on the school bus.  Raindrops will fall on freckled faces, and hot chocolate and cookies will be ready for an after school snack.  Parents will pat themselves on the back for giving their children such happy, safe lives.  When they aren’t safe at home, their kids will be under the careful watch of loving teachers that are dedicated to nurturing their little ones. 

Unfortunately, this pleasant scenario isn’t always the case.

A pair of fourth graders in Lewiston, NY witnessed their teacher using cocaine at her desk earlier this month.  At first, the teacher claimed the students were lying.  She only admitted to this disturbing act when trace amounts of the drug were found on her desk. 

This wasn’t a shady drug deal that went down in the school parking lot after hours.  This wasn’t even a case of a teacher with a hidden addiction.  This was a teacher—a teacher that was entrusted with the care of 9 year-olds—who engaged in illegal drug use during class time! 

Think about this, parents.  Do you know who your child’s teachers are?  Maybe you know their names, but what about their backgrounds, their habits, their ethics?  How can you be sure that the local 1^st grade teacher isn’t addicted to prescription medication or perhaps pornography?  The possibilities for sinful behaviors among our teachers are endless, and millions of American parents are standing idly by. 

The sad truth is, that we can never know the true character of others.  Only God knows the nature of a man’s heart.  Of course, most teachers are fine, upstanding citizens; many of them are even Bible-believing Christians.  However, that doesn’t make the risks any less serious.

How long will parents wave to their children from living room windows knowing that there is a chance that their child’s innocence is at stake?  Sexual perversion, drug abuse, anti-God thinking, and many other sinful behaviors thrive in public schools among students and yes, even teachers.

Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can become detached spectators in the lives of their children and shrug, "It's their life," and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in my son's head. I asked, "When do you stop worrying?" The nurse said, "When they get out of the accident stage." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted the class, and was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher said, "Don't worry, they all go through this stage and then you can sit back, relax and enjoy them." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone to ring, the cars to come home, the front door to open. A friend said, "They're trying to find themselves. Don't worry, in a few years, you can stop worrying. They'll be adults." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of being vulnerable. I was still worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle there was nothing I could do about it. My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing. I continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments.

My friends said that when my kids got married I could stop worrying and lead my own life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by my mother's warm smile and her occasional, "You look pale. Are you all right? Call me the minute you get home. Are you depressed about something?"

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life?

One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, "Where were you? I've been calling for 3 days, and no one answered. I was worried." I smiled a warm smile. The torch has been passed.

PASS IT ON TO OTHER PARENTS (and also to your children. That's the fun part)

One day I had a date for lunch
with friends.
Mae, a little old "blue hair" about 80 years old, came along with them---
All in all, a pleasant bunch.
When the menus were presented, we ordered salads, sandwiches, and soups,
except for Mae who said, "Ice Cream, please. Two scoops,

chocolate."

I wasn't sure my ears heard right, and the others were aghast.
"Along with heated apple pie," Mae added, completely unabashed.
We tried to act quite nonchalant, as if people did this all the time.
But when our orders were brought out, I didn't enjoy mine.
I couldn't take my eyes off Mae as her pie a-la-mode went down.
The other ladies showed dismay. They ate their lunches silently and frowned.

The next time I went out to eat, I called and invited Mae.
I lunched on white meat tuna. She ordered a parfait.
I smiled. She asked if she amused me.
I answered, "Yes, you do, but also you confuse me.
How come you order rich desserts, while I feel I must be sensible?
She laughed and said, with wanton mirth, "I'm tasting  all that's  Possible.

I try to eat the food I need, and do the things I should.
But life's so short, my friend, I hate missing out on something good.
This year I realized how old I was. (She grinned) I haven't been this old before."
"So, before I die, I've got to try those things that for years I had ignored.
I haven't smelled all the flowers yet. There are too many books I haven't read.
There's more fudge sundaes to wolf down and kites to be flown overhead. 
There are many malls I haven't shopped. I've not laughed at all the jokes.
I've missed a lot of Broadway hits and potato chips and cokes.  

I want to wade again in water and feel ocean spray on my face.
I want to sit  in a country church once more and thank God for His grace.
I want peanut butter every day spread on my morning toast.
I want UN-timed long distance calls to the folks I love the most.
I haven't cried at all the movies yet, or walked in the morning rain.
I need to feel wind in my hair. I want to fall in love again.
So, if I choose to have dessert, instead of having dinner,
then should I die before night fall, I'd say I died a winner,
because I missed out on nothing. I filled my heart's desire.
I had that final chocolate mousse before my life expired." 

With that, I called the waitress over.. "I've changed my mind," I said. "I want what she is having, only add some more whipped cream!"

This is my gift to you - We need an annual Friends Day! If  you get this twice, then you have more than one friend. Live well, love much & laugh often - Be happy. 

PLEASE PASS THIS ON TO ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS IF YOU WANT  TO.

Be mindful that happiness isn't based on possessions, power, or prestige, but on relationships with people we love and respect. Remember that while money talks, CHOCOLATE SINGS!