Archives

I’ll take two, please, in the mocha

Almost 12 years ago we scaled down, selling off furniture that wouldn’t fit in the apartment 1200 miles away.

Where’s my recliner? You sold it!!??!! The only recliner that’s ever fit my back and neck–ever? The only recliner in the entire La-Z-Boy gallery in Atlanta furniture market that fit my back and neck? THAT recliner????!!!!

That recliner.  It wouldn’t fit.  I’ve disputed that statement, but gone it was. Sold. He said we’d buy another one when we got a bigger place.  Well, we got a bigger place in 2000.

Today I decided the recliner sofa donated to the youth group for which we traded our other sofa given to us by friends who replaced theirs, was being replaced and replaced this week.  I’ve had it with the slanty cushion badly bolstered with towels in the springs.  My bum goes numb and the feet go to sleep.

Honey picked me up after work and we went out west.  “Did you print of the maps?” No time. “What time does the La-Z-Boy gallery close?” Didn’t call. Too busy. “Brown Squirrel closes at 8. Let’s check out LZB’s 2 for 1 sale first.”

Two streets, one wrong direction on the right street, and one stop to ask directions later, we couldn’t find LZB.

We had a half hour to get to Brown Squirrel, not acronymed here, and pretty much sniffed our way on the other side of the interstate until we spied the sign with the goofy squirrel on it.

“Is this the one we talked about on the phone?”  Not a good fit on the neck.  The back is tilting too far backward.  “Another model for the same price? Show me.”

Ray sent us to the other end of the store while he checked stock.  We looked at every recliner for the price starting with a 2 and found none.  We were starting to leave when Ray found us.  One chair had its tag turned around.  Yup. There it is.  A 2.  It’s green.

It fit.  Green …. cooouuld work… maybe.

“It comes in mocha,” pointing to a love seat about 15 feet away, same fabric.

“If you borrow Jim’s truck on Friday after work, you can return the truck when you go out to the shop Saturday.  You know, I’m thinking the youth group sofa could go where the marble topped credenza is, that can go in the living room, no, how about the rockers in front of the window, we’ll think of something.

“We’ll take two.  In the mocha.”

Advertisements

Yeah, but can you do it and not slosh your coffee?

Joy is not in what you have or who others say you are or even who you think you are.  It’s who you are in Christ.  Behave with joy.

I could have told Honey when he opened the Netflix envelope that 9pm is approx 1 hour and 4 minutes too late to start something if you want to see the ending.  But, it was Saturday night, therefore, since hope springs eternal in the mind of those who can’t remember last Saturday night, we hit the start button.

One hour and 4 minutes later, “we have to be at the church early for sound check, we’d better pick this up tomorrow.  But it’s so good…eh….I’m not making it to the end.”  So we paused it and picked it up again right after church so we could still take a nap at 3:o0.

We don’t go to concerts for several reasons, top of the list being they’re crowded.  First, you pay an unreasonable amount of money for a ticket in the nosebleed section so off in the wings if the performer is not on the front edge of the stage, you may as well be at home listening to the CD.  Or the DVD.

“This guy has more talent in his left ear lobe…..”

“Wasn’t that fun going to his concert with the Dales? It was worth the parking, the walking, the price, the crowd, the not so good seats…. he’s good.”

We’ve gone to one music concert in our entire relationship in 36 years.  We’ve gone to hockey games, baseball games, the state fair, all of which involve parking in the Australian outback, too much money, high priced bad food, and crowds but this guy was worth it all.

“Oh! I love this one!  Turn it up…. is there still some coffee?”

…the Copa, Copa Cababaaaaana…

One hand on the waist, the other holding the coffee cup, movin’ to the beat, movin’ the feet, all the way to the recliner sofa…

Didn’t slosh a drop.

About this time in the story telling, any one of my kids will have his/her hand over his/her face, shaking his/her head and making “uuuuuuuu..” moans.  Oh, well…

Copa Cabaaana….

“Do you mind if I play that one again?”

“You know, he just doesn’t stand at the mike and yell.  Well, I’m woofed.  Think I’ll lay down for a while.”

We’ll have to rent that one again sometime.


It’s a pick-your-project weekend

I’m taking a break from preparing the church body, trumpeting the end of the age.  Both are valid in the setting of prophetic events surrounding us, but this is a 3 day weekend and since life is proceeding as it has been, and the sun is shining as it is supposed to, and I’m frazzled from work, I’m temporarily swimming to shallower waters close enough to see the shoreline.  Not that I’ve given up on my passions, Perry Stone has some hot new material out I want to order and there’s something I want to order from Sid Roth as soon as I can.  In the meantime, tomorrow I may (or may not–I’m moody) report on the latest sermon.  BTW, I think I’ll refer to Preach as RevRan instead of the former.  Call it a whim, but I think it sounds a tad more respectful.

As for today, I look around my house at the projects begging for attention and am teetering on being overwhelmed.  It’s not possible to get more than two of them under control in one day.  The quick solution for the kitchen is dragging in the hose.  Not a practical option.  The loosely defined office in the far corner of the third bedroom can only be classified as tortured neglect, and my closet taunts me with “we dare you to come in here unarmed.”  Add to that Honey took the speakers to the shop to update, is waiting for a part, and if Fed-Ex isn’t delivering the part today, there will be no DVD entertainment all weekend. (11:55 – yay! part delivered!)

Until the speakers are restored, I can’t run Rocky & Bullwinkle (lower lip sticking out in a pout mode) or anything else for that matter on the DVD player nor on my computer because it says I need a stupid plug-in which I may have to cave on.  I’ve never — not once — had good luck downloading anything without an error message, pulling hair, and getting help. But I’ll (deep breath) try one more time.

Later…

The kitchen and refrigerator are properly exorcised of demon possession, a load of whites is waiting in the dryer, I’ve run the dishwasher twice plus hand washed enough extra dishes to turn my nails transparent, and I have reloaded the books that were stacked on the dining room table all week and temporarily stored all 140 DVDs and an embarrassingly high number of VHS tapes we haven’t replaced with DVDs yet.  A few years ago we got a new higher quality $50 VCR to replace the one we bought for $500 in 1986.  All that’s left on the dining room table is the 9″ TV from the second bedroom that needs a converter box and antenna. It’s not that important to clear the table completely since we don’t eat in the dining room unless we have guests.  But it’s nice to see the top once in a while.

The closet still lays in wait plotting my demise, the so called office remains pitifully unusable, and Honey’s on the way home from the wood shop.  Tomorrow we nap after church, Monday we grill.  Life is laid back at the Brock house.

Happy long weekend.

Motivation

My house is a disaster.  Just before they wheeled me in I told Honey that if
CM cracked me open for a bypass he was to clean the bath room first before the first church lady came with food.

That didn’t happen.  Come to think of it, I just ran out of reasons to call in sick for a while unless I conveniently catch my cubie neighbor’s lung gleep.  Yeah, she’s been yakkin’.  The weather’s been pretty perfect and the work load light.  You’d think they’d send us home.  But, noooooo…

This weekend I need to clean.  If not the whole house — we’re invited to a July 4th cookout — then I have to find some time to clean the worst of it, make my salad, AND sleep in.  I may have to invite people over to get the whole job done.  Next weekend.

In between weekend wipe downs and socializing, we keep the kitchen from being taken over by insects, the lawn from turning into a hayfield, watch the so-called garden turn yellow and the 2″ diameter Big Boy tomatoes get eaten by the black death, wonder what I’m going to do with 64 gallons of rain water, and check in with Facebook, the most recent version of the campus central bulletin board — skip the blog, head straight to the comments section.

You need to go to Facebook now, create an account and listen to the YouTube of Revelation Song by Philips Craid and Dean my nephew posted.  I’d put it up here but I’m currently way too lazy.  Maybe tomorrow.  It’s that motivation deficiency going on again.

Heading over to FB for one last snoop, watching the last of a CSI:NY rerun then go off to beddy bye.  Tomorrow is my short day and I don’t have to report in until 11:00.

I might be motivated to…. don’t know yet.

Counting down

Clocking in early is not a problem.  Clocking out later than normal shift end is not a problem.  Our team is short handed and overtime is encouraged.  But if I clock in early and don’t think I can make it to normal shift end, that’s a problem with the company. They assign 6:30, I stay to 6:30.

This week, I thought I’d go in early and stay late, hopefully accumulating 4 ten hour days so that I wouldn’t have to tap my sick hours for the heart cath on Friday.  What I’m finding after only one day of clocking in an hour early and staying only until I absolutely have to is that I don’t have the strength for 4 tens, hence, one of  the reasons why Cardio Man scheduled a heart cath.

It’s 9pm and I’m yawning.  I usually stay up to 11 easily.  There isn’t a day goes by that I’m not sprouting one or more symptoms of heart issues.  I think I’ll head to bed soon.

Tune in tomorrow to see what landed on the doorstep today. And, too, a report on a delightful new Pixar movie, UP.  Loved it, loved it.

Facing and facing the doc

I’ve created a FaceBook account and don’t know squat about how it works or nothin’.  Somebody help me.  I’ve been blogging since — since —- ok, look at the archive dates, that’s how long, and I love it.  I’m even toying with a book idea but that’s on simmer.

Other than exposing my computer challenges, here is an update on my — at last! — visit to Cardio Man.  The term itself conjures up a super hero image.  Here he comes, Cardio Man (dah ta da ta dah la ta dah! It’s Cardio Man to the rescue!! wearing a red cape and sporting a big gold CM on his chest)  Well, I hope he’s to the rescue.  He looks like he could be the younger brother of the ME on CSI:NY, tall, skinny, way big smile with teeth to fill it up, uncut but not long hair, wears black instead of white doctor clothes, chatty, grinny, outgoing and leaves with “God bless.”  His practice is as St. Mary’s so go figure on the God bless stuff.

Anyway, he went over all my comments, records, asked questions, said my supplements “can’t hurt” without endorsing so much as Omega3 (hrmmph) and scheduled me for a heart catheritization, what I’m fondly calling a dye job, next Friday.  Pray they find something and fix it, ‘cuz I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired all the time. Chest pains waking me up at 5am feels like something is going on and needs fixing.

If I don’t need a stent, they keep me long enough to determine that the puncture in the thigh artery isn’t going to blow all over the inside of the car and if they do insert a stent or three, they keep me overnight to make sure …. uh, not sure… that my face turns pink again? I thought the pale face was makeup.

I’ll keep y’all posted.

Today I’ve managed to put a load of darks in the washer, empty the dishwasher, load it, try to figure out vat dar heck FaceBook is and how to use it, checked the email, and got winded getting up for coffee while web camming with the kids.

Nap time.

Day 4

Miserable.  Sneezy, runny nose, can’t sleep well.  Hopefully tonight is better.  Since the company cut our hours by one a week, I chose to go in an hour later on Thursdays.  Tomorrow will almost seem like an early Saturday sleep in.  Cutbacks aren’t all bad.

I expect to launch my next mission this weekend and that’s painting.  I have had the paint for the dining room since Christmas but have been postponed by not only the baby blanket, but by the need for wall seam repairs which is Honey’s territory.  He’s been busy.  So the next step is taking off the rest of the border over the fireplace and painting that.  I haven’t decided exactly what color but am leaning toward dark and dramatic.  Brown? Plum? Slate?

I’m suddenly tired of the bathroom wallpaper too and since it was so easy to take the border off, well, then ……….. we’ll see if the ambition correlates with the opportunity.

Once the decor is adjusted, I want to give attention to the ancestry again.  I’d really like another six months of Ancestry.com membership.  Maybe over the winter months I’ll start writing their stories starting with Isaac, my great-grandfather, the 16th of 16 children and the first of 4 generations not to go into the ministry, followed by the 3 preachers before him.  The kings and Huguenots won’t wait much longer.

It’s late.  The virus has drained me.  Good night.

Honey didn’t like the green background.  Is this better, y’all?