Picking them up tonight!

You should have seen it.  Two people our age trying to squeeze a giant piece of  furniture through a smaller than average bedroom doorway.

In order to get to that point, we moved the end table from the master bath, moved the vanity table and bench there in order to move the marble topped credenza in its place, the leftover living room TV on that, so the sofa could sit in the bedroom offering an extra space to sleep company and watch TV too in order to place our pretty new matching mocha recliners in its place in the living room. Easy!

This was a sofa well past its prime and existing on borrowed time when we got it in a used to used trade with the Youth Group. In furniture years it has to be older than Abraham on Isaac’s 40th birthday. The springs sag in the corner, there is no softness, it was beyond fixing.  Trust me, we tried stuffing it with towels with no discernable improvement.  Its one good feature, other than its color – it matches our fireplace wall, or rather, the fireplace wall matches it – is that the popup foot rests entertain the grandsons for hours making it worth keeping.

Because it is a full length sofa with overstuffed arms, the one piece metal frame disallowing separation, it’s huge, I mean hoog, very large, very heavy and stubbornly inflexible.  It’s a geezer. Being a single piece, it was also a 10 on the Clumsy Scale.

Take the door off. (drill noises) You lift that end.  I can only push it, can’t lift it. Twist it. No, the other way. The frame is caught. That’s a nice gouge in the wall. We’re painting anyway. Not this week! Okay, how about standing it up on end.  The arm is caught. Squish it. No, it’s the frame in the arm stuck now. Pull back your end. Can’t, too heavy. Yeah, walk it. Can you get back out the doorway? There’s no space to slide food to you.  If you pull your end your way… I need to pull the end my direction. Can’t. How about we flatten it by extending the foot rests? Now tip it. The metal frame is hitting the door frame. I’m not as young as I used to be! Wait, wait, my foot’s there. Can we turn it upside down and angle the back in first? Now I can’t (push, push) get (push, shove) the (hit, pound) foot rests back. This is a bear cat (spelling adjusted). What door did it come in in the first place? Front? No, I’m not ready to join the ranks of those with upholstered furniture on the porch. It won’t fit through the patio door either. Lean it there. I have to step outside and cool off.  You know, it’s pretty long. I think if the thing ever fits through the door we’ll have to move the armoire. Your chain saw won’t cut through the metal frame, will it?

It took just 10 minutes to unload the new rocker recliner boxes from the truck bed, unpack, and assemble them.  The small drop leaf end table was slipped in between.  Ahhhhhh, that feels great. Here, you sit in mine and I’ll sit in yours to see if either fits better or the same.  Mine’s fine. Mine too. Wow, they look good there. If we ever get the rest of the room repainted the walls will look as great as the chairs. The floor lamp goes behind the drop leaf. You know, the sofa looks pretty good in front of the window. Where’s the remotes caddy?

On the sofa. Do you mind getting up?



Dining room.  Done.  We have reduced the dining room to the china cabinet, the table and chair set, one small marble top chest for hot dishes and a plant stand with a lamp on it.  It is so done, we have grapefruit and oranges in a bowl on the table.

Bathroom.  Done but for replacing the light fixture maybe in six months.

Fireplace wall.  Done but for finding something to hang on it.  We’re waiting for our daughter’s decorating talent.  A good excuse to shop.

The taupe paint for the living room is being stored in its can until we recover.

We have to plan meals, vacuum one more time, dust, and set up a spare bed.

Other chores are finding a dress for next Sunday, something for my friend’s wedding and a few summer pieces.  I hate shopping for clothes since my figure has, in Mom’s words, “settled.”  Nothing settled.  Everything puffed up like a blow fish.  I wish it would settle.

Tuesday is Passover, Wednesday we launder, Thursday we go to choir followed by a quick late supper and pick up the kids at the airport.

Hopefully I will fire up the camera and update the FlickR account with new happy faces from the holiday weekend.

Meanwhile, work has taken on a new shadow — the headset tether to the telephone.  I can work with a new system.  I can adjust to my job getting complicated, changing into something unrecognizable with no pay adjustment, and changing my lunch break time.  Being a sharp old bird, I can do all that easily.  But the headset was not in the new team job description for which we all applied.  Surprise…..!  What could be a real road block is that I can’t wear a headband or eye glass frames for more than an hour before I get a throbbing headache.  Why should a headset pressing on one side of my head 8 hours straight not do that?

We’ll see how it all goes down by noon tomorrow.  Maybe it’ll rhyme with “pick-up” as in a four wheeled vehicle.  Speaking of Obama …..

who is spending our grand-children’s wealth, released embryonic stem cell research after research has shown that adult stem cells work and embryonic doesn’t, put a tax cheat in charge of our treasurey, okayed we pay for international abortions, fired a private citizen from a private company, threatened CEOs from private companies with “I’m the only person between you and a pitch fork”, gave control of private companies’ executives’ pay scales to Europe at the G20 conference, sent his toadie to the supreme court to ask that he be allowed to ban books during election cycles that speak negatively of candidates, slipped a clause in the first money balloon that nobody read!!! that sets up computer control in less than 5 years on how and if you get your meds under the heading “Meaningful Use”, and now congress has a bill that would grant him control and oversight of the Internet.  So much for the first amendment.

Let us not forget his stand on abortion.  I guess we did forget.  At the least, the 7 million evangelical Christians that tipped the scales in his favor forgot.  Did anyone stop once to ask exactly what the change was?

Don’t blame me.  I voted for Palin.

going to Passover this year

First, an update on the domestic upheaval.  The dining room is almost done.  About a third of it needs a second coat, but if we close the blinds………..  The furniture is still out of place supporting things like a tape measure, wallpaper remover spray bottle, a Phillips screw driver when we’re looking for the pliers, homeless CDs, and a confused and homeless shower curtain.

Most of the bathroom has one coat.  I love the color—love it, love it, love it.  Imagine the velvet backdrop of midnight with only the stars and moonlight.  Not black, not blue, not purple … none, but all three.  In other words, there’s not a towel out there that will match it so we go with white and white only ….. midnight and snow, yeah, that’s the ticket!!

“Honey, put hinges on the list with the plumbing thingy dingy. There’s a pen on top of the frig—there used to be a pen on top of the frig—what’s the third thing I just said?”  What is that third thing?

I have one more weekend to get things finished and back in place before the kids fly in on the 9th for Resurrection Celebration aka Easter.

On Tuesday the 7th, I am joining Messianic friends from Shomair Ysrael to celebrate the Passover Seder, the 15th of Nisan, the first month of the Hebrew calendar, the night of the full moon after the vernal equinox.  They chose to celebrate a day early which is precisely what Yeshua did with His disciples, knowing that He would be giving His life as the Lamb of God at the very hour that lambs were being slaughtered in the temple for the Passover that fell on the Sabbath that year making it a high holy day.  How much higher holiness than the Lamb that takes the sin of the world once and for all?

I have previously blogged about the pagan nature of our Easter traditions.  I have not changed my opinion that our traditions are pagan in origin.  That is fairly common knowledge lately.  We can paint them Christian, we can say we took them away from pagan history and gave them new life and new meaning.  The truth is that Constantine was anti-Semitic and recreated the existing celebration away from Passover and assigned it to the known pagan date as a rebuff to Judaeism.  Why keep the the Baal/Babylonian symbols after we know where our Easter traditions came from?  Why??  Entertainment for the kids?

Why not teach our children the majesty and magnitude of the meaning of the feast of Passover, that Yeshua celebrated it, that He didn’t include Baal worship’s eggs and rabbits and fertility rites in the upper room, why He wouldn’t drink of the last cup of Passover wine (hint–it wasn’t to prohibit drinking wine), how the foot washing fit in with the Passover ritual, the prophetic importance of His prayer in Gesthemane, the incredible heart wrenching beauty of the blood streaming down the cross, its fulfillment of the Temple sacrifice system He set up long ago with Moses, that our life is in His blood.

Let’s wake up to and teach our children that Jesus, Yeshua, will return for us when we recognize and include our Judaic roots, the Messianic believers, Jesus’ Jewishness, His desire for Jews and Gentiles to unite, to merge as one.  That was His prayer in the garden.

I propose we celebrate Hebrew festivals with our Jewish brethren in our church along side our innocent and rich traditions, not to be saved, not to make points.  God shows up at the parties He planned and we’ve been standing Him up.  They’re for us to meet with Him, we do it to witness to yet more Jews to bring them into the fold, we do it to meet God, we do it to embrace our Jewish roots.  It can’t and shouldn’t become legalistic, but be considered a privilege.

Did you know what was the hem of Yeshua’s garment that the woman touched and was healed? His talit — his prayer shawl, just like the one Jews wear to this day.

In Luke 8:43 the woman with the issue of blood for twelve years, came and touched THE BORDER OF HIS GARMENT and was healed. That word BORDER comes from the Hebrew word tzit tzit meaning twisted coils, fringe, or tassel. (Remember the commandment of the Lord from Deut. 22:12 to wear the twisted coils?) What did she touch? The twisted coils on the border of the garment (His Prayer Shawl) that Jesus being Jewish, would have been wearing.

(Check out also the part about wings)

Christianity was Jewish first.  They decided to include us then. It’s time, in these end days, to include them now.  Jesus wants oneness.

Say when.

Call in bed-head

chirp.  chirp.  twitterrrrrrrrr.  chirp.

That’s the sound of the smoke alarms without power.  Doesn’t it make perfect sense to equip a house with smoke alarms that don’t work after a house fire takes out the power? We didn’t have a fire.  But the power did go out about 4am.

Tennessee hardly ever is cold.  When I say cold, after 29 Minnestoa winters, I’m not talking about a range of 25 to 44 degrees above zero.  People here call that chiiiiiiiiilly in 3 syllables.  To me, 25-44 says “coat.”  Below 25, down to 15 is coat and gloves.  Below that, add a scarf, but the hat is optional if your hair is like mine and you brave all to spare the do.  Boots seldom applied especially when my destination was dress-up.  Boots are in the basket with the candles and the inedible forgotten candy bars in the trunk in case I’m stranded.  I wasn’t so tough as I was fast between building and car.

Single digits, yea even, single syllables, says “cold.”  The temp on the porch is 10, outside the north window is 9.

While I was having wierd dreams with chirps and twitters, the power came back briefly for about 5 minutes during which Honey started the coffee pot and jumped in the shower.  I woke up about 6, wondering if I was blind, found the flashlight and found Honey in the shower in the dark.  “Thaaank yooou.”  I’ll find the lanterns.  Why isn’t this one staying lit? Oh. The tail of the wick isn’t in the oil.  Duh.

The power hadn’t been off long enough for the interior temperature to come close to the exterior 9 and 10 numbers, but give it time.  Choices.  I could basin bathe, and dress by lantern light, or call in bed-head and dive for the still warm comforter cuddly bed.

“Power’s on.”  The lights being on were the first clue?

Add to list:  more firewood, another 2 lanterns, matches, batteries, charcoal.  Certainly not toilet paper, bread, and milk.  Those are gone before I get off work since the S word (snow) has been issued over the air waves.

Bad kitties…bad

I am on record that I love cats, have owned cats, and intend on having at least one more in my house again.  I may be single by then or shortly afterward, but  Even so, I admit that the cat gang in the neighborhood have no specific owners if they ever did, are breeding like …. cats …. and are a nuisance.  Yes, I thought they were useful in taking care of the mice link in the food chain so that snakes would have less reason to sleuth for them anywhere near me.  Apparently that is the only upside, imaginary or real.  The gang colors seem to be charcoal and shades of charcoal.  They don’t stand still long enough for me to see their little do-rags or tattoos, but they do have a collective nasty attitude.

When Honey came home Thursday he said he saw our neighbor from across the street in the grocery store.  He reported that several of the neighbors have hosted cat brothels and maternity wards under their houses.  The cats have torn into the insulation for nests and sprayed territorial invitations. Various eviction methods have been employed including poison and guns, but there are so many cats multiplying so fast, the people are losing the battle.

Today’s weather is still in the high 80’s (is it Fall yet?), Ike’s backside is kicking up some serious wind gusts (Hey, behave yourself…I mean Ike, the hurricane..we know gassy people, but none named Ike) and we are charging the monster flashlight for a quick 10 minute investigation under our house since that’s how long the flashlight charge lasts at 1 million candlepower.

Honey and I exchanged emails Friday and decided that even if we didn’t have an existing problem under the house, we could start with odor granules around the property perimeter, progress to anti-freeze cuisine, and if that fails, climax with Tinnisseee tarr-gitt practice. If that doesn’t work, it’s time to watch Caddy Shack again for advanced pest control methods.  We’ll need floppy hats and have to practice talking like Bill Murray.

I still love cats and will get a Ragdoll someday.  These guys are nazis.

Honey’s done mowing, the flashlight is charged.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

BTW, In Case You Missed It, Zogby has a new poll on the life.