Thursday, July 31, 2008

Spitting Jesus and More Confessions

This is truth. I am being totally honest with myself and who I am. I have a still and semi-petrified soul. It is shameful. I have many good intentions, but my heart is not pure.

This morning it occurred to me that something was wrong in my soul. Before I drove to work, I thought I should use that time to say some prayers, something is better than nothing. If I say them out loud, perhaps my deaf soul will hear it.

When I started the car this morning, the radio was blaring country music. I turned it down a little. I shut off the air conditioning in the car to save gas. It was bearable, but hot. I started to focus on how hot I felt and kept telling myself it was a short twelve minute drive and I could bear it. I drove the speed limit and focused on traffic. I did not say a single prayer. I did not think about the Creator.

As I sat quietly this morning before I began my work, I remembered I had planned to pray in the car. I felt a restless aching. There was nothing there—no goodness, no virtue. There is something wrong. Lately, I have thought several times, I am, my family, we are lukewarm Christians. Like this excerpt from Revelations.

15I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either
one or the other! 16So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about
to spit you out of my mouth. 17You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and
do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful,
poor, blind and naked. Revelation 3:15-17
That is who I am and I know it. It has been a while since I have made it to reconciliation. It’s for no other reason other than I do not think to go. It is not in the forefront of my mind. I do not wish to reject God and I know I have sinned. I do remind myself of that, but I never follow those acknowledgements by thinking I should make it right. I must be choosing to continue to do wrong. That part of me that used to say, “Make it right,” is quiet.

Further, it is my belief that good Catholics ought to live everyday in the ritual of the Faith. That’s what makes it a religion. My family does not do that. We always pause and say, this is the ritual; this is how we ought to pray and conduct ourselves on a daily basis; and then we never do it. Part of me envies the Muslims and their obvious devotion to their faith. They pause five times a day and pray. They make outward signs and act with faith. It is the same with the Orthodox Jews and Orthodox Christians. I am sure they sin too, but at least they are not lukewarm.

I always wanted my future family life to be different from how it was when I was a kid. I always wanted my family to pray together at least once a day; and not just at the dinner table. Well, here I am with a family of my own, a husband, a son and a daughter, and we have not made any sort of effort to prayer together. I know that it is hard to get a toddler to sit still and pray with mom and dad, but there is no time like the present; after all, he is a full-fledged member of the Church too. It is because I have never made it my practice to act in such a way.

I guess this is not only a confession, but a resolution to make it different. I sit here with trepidation that I will not be able to change. My husband and I have resolved so many times to be different. We have made efforts that dwindle away quickly. I wonder how I will do it and pray that I can do it.

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us sinners!” I am still a sinner.

Spitting Jesus

On another note, while I was looking for the passage from Revelations above, I went to and typed in a number of combinations of phrases including the word “spit,” because I couldn’t remember where in the Bible it was, or the exact phraseology. So, at one point I typed in Jesus spit. And the search engine came up with a multitude of passages containing Jesus and spit. Our God is a spitting God. Now, I know it’s symbolic. I know that it is supposed to symbolize baptismal cleansing. But, it is slightly amusing to see all these passages at once where Jesus decides to spit on someone to heal them, or talks about spitting. It’s such a graphic image. So, here below are two passages in which Jesus uses his spit to heal.

32There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged him to place his hand on the man. 33After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man's ears. Then he spit and touched the man's tongue. 34He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, "Ephphatha!" (which means, "Be opened!"). 35At this, the man's ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly. Mark 7:32-7:33

22They came to Bethsaida, and some
people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. 23He took the blind
man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man's
eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, "Do you see anything?"
looked up and said, "I see people; they look like trees walking around." Mark

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

I Will Take Mine With an Extra Helping of Manliness

I heard on the radio that there is a new trend of manscara, man-liner and the man makeup bag. This story came from a Hollywood makeup artist who claims that increasing numbers of men (I assume all her clients) have found that certain cosmetic products can decrease facial imperfections while enhancing a manly appearance. AGH!

I really find it hard to believe that any regular man would agree to use anything more than the basics on his face. A man with a particularly bad complexion may be persuaded to use some sort of medicated face wash. Aside from that, I really do not think that any normal man has the patience to put so much effort into his appearance. Granted there are men that take the time and care to look nice and presentable, but that still would not include such adornments.

It is not a part of the manly repertoire to flower himself and paint his petals--he doesn't have any petals! Men do not use scented hand lotion (nor hand lotion at all unless his hands are chapped and bleeding), do not powder their noses, spend more than fifteen minutes in front of the bathroom mirror in the morning! The male hygiene regime involves shower, shave (face!), brush teeth, maybe some hair gel and if it is a fitting occasion some musky, manly, cologne. Anything more is frivolous and not a part of manliness.

The differences between men and women are wonderful things. Most men and women fit into some form of the male or female archetype and for good reasons. In part, we are anatomically designed to conduct our lives in such a way. Women’s bodies are designed to bear and embrace, to nurse; our visage rounder, sweeter, and prettier; our minds are designed to multi-task and have patience with nurturing, domestic activities (though not limited to such activities). Men are suited to lifting, hunting, gathering, protecting, have ample body hair.

A man who is more concerned with his own appearance than the ladies he keeps as company is not a gentleman I would like to keep as company. Even women who spend too much time readying their appearance I find them difficult to make my friend. It is the level of self-centeredness that makes it difficult.

I find it hard to believe that this is a wide spanning social trend. Just because some makeup artists in "the land of the beautiful people" managed to attract some clientele, does not make it a trend.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Wyoming in the Summer (For Those Who Don't Know)

There isn't better place in the world to visit than Wyoming in the summer. I am not saying that it Wyoming is better than other places in the world, however it is equal to any vacation destinantion. I will tell you why.

In July, Wyoming is not too hot. The mornings and evenings are cool and crisp; the air is always fresh, sweet mountain air. Every morning is greeted purple, pink and blue sunrises as the stars creep away. Every evening the sun sets over "the purple mountians, majesty," (the rockies) in saturated hues of orange, red and yellow.

There is stillness all around. You can sit quiet and still and not hear the buzz of a computer, or hum of passing autos. It's just quiet. The only noise to disturb the silence is the hushed whistle of the wind across the golden prairies. Sometimes the silence is so great that you can actually feel it with your whole body and soul.

Since there is no snow blocking the roads in the summer, you can go into the mountian and enjoy quiet mountain lakes and streams. The wildlife comes out to play. There is rock climbing both challenging and elementary.

At the end of July, in the state's capital, Cheyenne, they have "The Daddy of Them All," Frontier Days Rodeo. It's one of the biggest in the nation. There are all sorts of events. All the best professional rodeo riders come and all the best music acts (not just country). They have a carnival and lots of community events.

All this being said, I grew up in Wyoming and dreamed of the day I would leave Wyoming and perhaps never return. There are a lot of drawbacks to Wyoming, specifically if you have to live there year round. Most people who live there are quite happy to live there. Now that I am a grown woman, I know that I could be happy living anywhere. I heard a great saying once, "If you are not happy where you are, you probably won't be happy anywhere." Of course, that is in reference to geographical location, not life situation. Now that I am older and wiser, I know that that is true. So this last weekend when I visited Wyoming I appreciated it for what it is. Honestly, I appreciated it when I lived there, but I also focused on the negatives of living in Wyoming. You definitely have to be a tougher person to live in such a place.

My trip was perfect. It was not too long. I would have only lengthened it by one day. Alexander was a perfect child and so much fun. He thought traveling was a blast. Because my family was holding the 2nd annual Adam Towler Memorial Run, all the people who are important to me came to it to run, walk or help. I was able to talk with them at lunch afterwards. I did not have to endure the tedium of calling people and arranging visits and preparing myself and child for such visits. A lot of people came to the race and it went relatively smoothly. Best of all, some of Adam's favorite charities will benefit and his humanitarianism will be passed on.

It was nice. I was given a bite size visit of Wyoming and was able to enjoy it. Those are all the postives of my visit.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

What's in a Name?

Andrew and I have agreed on a name for our daughter. It has reverberated in our minds for the past week. It has stuck with us the same way Alexander's name did. When we first named Alexander, I did not want to tell anyone just in case at the last minute we decided to change it. Or as I said at the time, "What if when we saw him and met him for the first time we felt the name did not fit." I am not always the most decisive person. I like to carefully ponder for a long time. I like to make the "right" decision for fear of making a mistake. Andrew is a very decisive person and makes decisions quickly and confidently.

There are no secrets in the Clayton family, soon the word was out about Alexander. The more I said it, the more it sounded right. It was also nice to be able to call our little developing baby by his name. When he was born, there was no moment that I said, "Oh no, this child look like a Charles." To me, he looked more like a blank slate--a little person whom I did not know, furthermore he did not even know himself.

And now without further adieu, we have chosen: Cristiana Noelle Clayton (what a lucky girl). Do not bother trying to suggest other names. We are resolute at this time. I will not say that we will absolutely not change our minds--nothing is final until we sign the paperwork. But, we are pretty stuck on this one.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

"I have confidence in sunshine, I have confidence in rain, I have confidence that spring will come again and I have confidence in me!"

I must have all the right hormones today. I feel like I am on top of the world. I feel confident and intelligent, spunky and cute.

Andrew has been away for this week at a friend’s wedding. He is going to be in the wedding party. The weekend was a little lonely, but it flew by fast. The rest of the week has flown by as well. I have continued putting our new house together—little details here and there—putting big screw holes in the wall…oops.

I feel confident, because I have handled myself amazingly well. I mean I have been efficient, thoughtful and careful. I have completed tasks I set out to do. I have had social interactions without my wonderful extroverted husband. It’s often difficult for me to start a conversation (once started you can’t shut me up). But, I had lunch with a friend and a small impromptu movie night with the girls. All while being a good mommy and teaching Alexander new things.

Tonight I will venture off to Wyoming for the weekend. I am traveling with Alexander, a very exuberant little boy. He has already begun the terrible twos tantrums. I have to drive down to Dallas in crazy rush hour. I have had apprehensions about this trip and this drive. But, I keep telling myself that I have driven worse. I should not be afraid. Luckily, I feel confident today.

Wish me luck. Pray for me. I hope I make it to my flight in time.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Every Name Goes Well With Clayton

So here is a name that a friend suggested. It's a mouth full. I think this name says, "I am a woman to be reckoned with!"
Walburga Scholastica Clayton

A Name That Has a Nice Ring to It

So, I thought of a great name for our baby girl. It has a really nice ring to it. Seriously, say this one out loud. But, I will have to move to Hollywood before anyone finds it socially acceptable. Too bad I am not brave enough to give my kid a truly, unusual name.

Tallahassee Dallas Clayton

Someone Please Teach Me

I spent four years in college and part of me thinks that that was not enough. I find myself still longing to learn, but lacking the time to do so. Also, I find myself lacking teachers, financial resources and to some extent mental capability (or patience). As of late, the things I have wanted to learn most are practical skills as opposed to all the theoretical knowledge I learned in college.

Here is the list of things I desire to learn in order of practical importance to me at the moment:

Sewing – I need someone to teach me how to properly operate my sewing machine. The “User’s Manual” is lacking quite a bit in detail. I also need some lessons in craftsmanship.

For some reason my needle keeps breaking. It might have something to do with the tension that I do not know how to set properly, or the machine might need a repair. I do not know.

It comes up so often that there is something that needs to be hemmed or needs a custom fit. I sure wish I could fix the hem on my curtains and make some custom curtains for Alexander’s room. Now that we are having a little girl, she will need little bloomers to cover her diapers under dresses (Yes, this is necessary, because girls wear dresses and their diapers are not protected like when boys wear pants and the diaper starts to deteriorate before its time.)

I am torn though, because it seems these days anymore things can be bought cheaply enough that sewing is not a necessary skill.

Icon Writing – I view this as an essential skill for my faith formation and for the faith formation of my family. This is the mystical art of interpreting Biblical and historical figures into imagery through prayer, meditation, fasting and the use of tempera paint on wood. Everything that is done in icon writing has special religious and philosophical meaning. When finished they are intended to be used for spiritual meditation and enlightenment.

There is a place in Austin that I can learn this special skill. However it would involve 5-7 weekend trips down to Austin plus about $500 in supplies and studio time. I would need a scholarship to complete this “degree.” Too bad they do not make scholarships for Icon Writing School.

I think that in theory I could learn about this without taking an expensive class. The Priest at our church in Spokane gave a couple weekend courses on it. However, I could not attend, because I was busy in college at the time. I do not think that he went into depth about symbolism, etc. He simply explained how it is done. They used templates and transfer images onto the wood.

It not good enough that I simply paint an image onto wood in the style of icon writing. If I am going to do this, I am going to do it right and pay homage to the tradition and to the Lord, Our God.

There are no books that I could find on the subject.

Minor skills I wish to learn:

How to discipline Alexander and get him to eat his dinner like a little gentleman at the table.

How to sell art in galleries.

And one day, I want to learn how to be an organic subsistence farmer. This might be a task for a whole other lifetime. I am a far cry from being a “green thumb.”

Do you have any of these skills? Do you want to teach me? I’ll clear my schedule for you.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

How Can I Best Contribute to the World?

As I have listened to and transcribed the Board meetings for my business, I have begun to think and long for how I can best contribute to the world and make it a better place. I have as much to offer as most any person and I want to be sure that I do give as much of my talent and expertise as I have to offer.

I am listening to these men who are top in their fields talk about their ideas to better their industry. What they have given to the world of football and to the youth (the future) of America is significant. Even the least of coaches, like a Pop Warner grade school coach gives a lot back to humanity teaching young boys how a man ought to act: with character and integrity, giving back to the community and to families.

Teachers do a lot of the same. Good teachers change the way the youth interact with their world and their knowledge. A caring, charitable, well-formed teacher, who invests themselves in each student, makes an investment in the world and adds unto its wealth.

I have many unrealized goals. But, constantly I have a longing to share what is good within me. My goal is to share my talents and knowledge and impact others lives in a positive way. I desire to share those good and noble things that I painstakingly learned throughout my education and formation.

The question for myself is do I have to impact many, or is it enough to be a good wife and mother raising good and well-formed children? Should I be making the extra effort to contribute to my community? I honestly do not think that I could be a good employee, wife, and mother if I divided myself in such a way. I feel too divided as is. There are so many errands and chores left undone, too many missed lessons and cuddles. Perhaps that is why so many American families do not go out and find ways to give to their community. They are too bogged down dividing their lives between work and family.

All I can say for myself is that transcribing the thoughts of other great men is not the best way I should contribute to the world. It makes me a little melancholy to not have my thoughts respected and carried out, and perhaps I do not have any good ones. What is to be done with me?

This is my 60th post.

Monday, July 7, 2008

The Long Weekend - Journal Entries

Day 1 (Thursday) - I have a very sore throat; the glands in my neck are very swollen; the muscles in my neck are sore; I have a small lingering headache; I am all together tired and just try to motor ahead. I picked up Alexander from "day school" (as we all call it). He fell while running on the playground. He skinned his right thumb pretty badly. His caretaker, Maggie, said it was like the end of the world when it happened. Fortunately, it was not actually the end of the world. I looked at is closely, but all I could see was a bloody little thumb covered by a tiny band aid (weekend drama to ensue). We all enjoy a dinner out at the Cracker Barrel with Andrew's mom (all enjoyed, but Alexander, because he cannot sit still long enough to eat anything) . It's her last night in town. She came just to help us finish moving. It was a big job, but someone had to do it. And that person wasn't me. Andrew's mom is great at organization and motivation. I did not think that being 16-18 weeks pregnant would be such a hindrance on moving. But, I found myself to be just about useless. And then came this cold.

Day 2 (Friday, Independence Day) - We all got up early to take Andrew's mom to the airport. We were on the road by 7:15 a.m. (Andrew was up until 3:30 a.m. talking to best friend, Zane, on the phone; one last long chat before he enters the seminary). Before, leaving town we all had to get a cup of delicious Starbucks. Then it was a mad dash for the airport in Dallas. My throat is feeling a little better, but my sinuses are beginning to plug, which is a normal progression for any cold or sore throat that I have. In the past two years, since we moved to Waco, I have had a lot of trouble with my sinuses. It's time to nip this in the... We get to the airport just in time. We say our tearful goodbyes, Andrew tells his mom he is not going to cry, because he will see her in a week when he goes home for a wedding, then he sulked all weekend long. We stop for a McDonald's breakfast on the way out of Dallas and play on the coolest MickeyD's playground ever. We have to drag Alex away kicking and screaming. He then takes a long nap on the way home, which is a good thing and a bad thing. He is quiet and happy for the trip home, but it means no afternoon quiet time for us. When we get home Andrew cannot go on any longer. He takes a 2 hour nap. Alex babies his sore thumb/hand all day. It must hurt. Then we pack up our polish sausages and other food for an Independence Day cookout. It us being held in a nice shaded, courtyard. A like a good time is had by all, especially Alexander, who got really dirty climbing and playing all over the courtyard. He probably had the best time of anyone there. But, because he took such an early nap, he is super grumpy and tired by 8:30 p.m. I guess we won't be sticking around for the fireworks. It's okay though, because my sinuses are throbbing and I was feeling pretty tired from the heat and chasing around a toddler and from being 18 weeks pregnant. When we arrive home Alexander is wiped cleanish, no time for a bath, tucked into bed and Andrew and I sit down to watch patriotic television on PBS. It's good stuff--how they make fireworks, patriotic music and more. I was a little bit in and out of sleep.

Day 3 (Saturday) - My sinuses are burning, throbbing and all plugged up. I take the best over-the-counter sinus medicine on the market. No change. Such is my life. I am determined that things will get done today. I wake up Alexander. His sore thumb looks terrible. It's swollen, red, purple and yellow. It probably became worse after all the climbing and dirt from last night. I briefly considering finding out about the Saturday clinic at the hospital and then think this can probably wait. He babies his hand again all day, but this time I take special care to clean it, ointment and bandage it properly. He's tried to be a good sport about it, but he can't help a little screaming and crying. He hasn't been eating well lately. It's making Andrew and I a little mad and makes us feel like bad parents when he doesn't get enough to eat. He can't manage to sit still long enough to eat a proper meal. But, back to getting things done--I wake up Andrew and force him to get himself together for a day of studying. He's an adult. I can't tell him what to do, but he has got to be a serious student every day this summer. It has not gone too well, but he's smart and can still make it up. I get him in the car, finally, by 10:45 a.m. and drop him off at Starbucks (the grad student's office). I begin my errands. I go to Walmart looking for blackout shades for the sunny upstairs windows. They don't have exactly what I want. I do a little shopping, because there is always something one needs at Walmart. Then I drive halfway across town to JoAnn fabrics to get some blackout material. they give me a 40% discount on it for signing up for their mailing list. It turns out to be a fabulous deal and well worth the drive. I get home just in time for the "I'm hungry and sleepy and my thumb hurts" meltdown by Alexander. He was so tired and he seemed to be troubled by his thumb and therefore could not manage to keep himself together long enough to eat. But, considering how poorly he ate in the morning, I was determined to get him to eat something decent. He finally eats a cereal bar. It is not something I really wanted him to eat, but atleast he has something in his belly. I put him down for a nap and then go to work. I put up the curtains in the living room. Then I thought to get started on the blackout curtains. I cut them all to length, and pin the hem. After I figure out my bobbin winder, I finally hem one blackout curtain. I was pretty happy about it and thought that I could get all three curtains done before I had to wake up Alexander and go get Andrew. Three quarters of the way through the second curtain my needle broke for no reason. Nothing had changed between this curtain and the last. I think there is something stuck under the guide plate, but I didn't have time to check it now. I had to wake up Alexander and go get Andrew. Alexander was still sleepy, but a good sport about getting ready to go. I got to Andrew about 3:00 p.m. We ran some errands and bought some groceries for dinner. We now had just a couple hours to play with Alexander, tidy our messes, make and eat dinner and get Alexander back in bed, so we could have guests over for cards. It wasn't hard getting Alexander in bed. He was really tired for some reason--probably because of his sore thumb and not eating well and all the crazy fits he threw. Our guests arrive and we havea fun evening of playing cards (pinochle and spades). Andrew and I lose every hand, which is unusual for us. I am not going to point any fingers, but I will say, I don't think it was me ;-). By bedtime I was more stuffed up than ever and in lots of pain. But, I guess it was manageable. I take a bath to ease some aches and drift off to sleep.

Day 4 (Saturday) - We all sleep in. That's weird. It's almost 9:00 a.m. and I have not heard a peep from Alexander. He's fine. He's just simply sleeping in. Alexander's thumb looks no worse than the day before, but not exactly better. I continue to doctor it. He has taken to keeping his hand in a little loose fist and won't use that hand at all. He was a one handed wonder all weekend. My sinuses really hurt. It doesn't seem that any medicine is touching it. I am very concerned about not taking too much medicine because of being pregnant. I hope all the sinus medicine and acetaminophen I have taken hasn't been harmful to the baby. We barely make it out the door in time for church. At the church the "Cry Room" is already full at the beginning, because people keep bringing their whole families in there. It's not designed for that. It was designed for noisy little toddlers and one parent. We have a lot of toddlers. One family keeps coming in with both parents and all five of their children, all of which are old enough to sit quietly in church. I was more miffed than ever, because I do not feel well enough to be patient or charitable. Fortunately, Alexander has been quiet enough lately to sit in the church, so we sit in a back pew. But, half way through the homily he bangs his sore thumb on something, it starts to bleed and he starts to cry loudly. I have to carry him off to the "Cry Room." I consider going outside, but I know I will never get Alexander back in the church if I do that. I go in and sit on the floor, because there are no seats, and right next two boys from the family that annoys me so much. One naughty little boy keeps hitting his brother and saying things in Spanish. The parents do nothing. Did I mention they also had the grandfather in there as well? Three adults for one family in a room designed for eight or nine adults to sit and none of them do anything about disciplining the children. Like I said, I have no patience. I look the boy square in the eye, give him a crusty look, and say very sternly, "Stop it." I wasn't sure the child would understand me, because he had been speaking Spanish, but I am sure my body language spoke enough. He stops. I can tell either his parents let him do whatever he wants or he is the boss of them. After a little bit the boy walks away and quietly sits next to his parents on the floor. Good, I scared him and he is out of my hair. Alexander later walks up to the other little boy (who was probably nine yrs old) and slaps him on the back kind of like what the boy's brother had done. I discipline Alexander. That is exactly why other parents cannot let their children get out of hand, because toddlers do not know any better and will act that way too. As I approached the Holy Eucharist, I say as usual "Let this be not for my judgement or condemnation, but for healing of soul and body." As the Eucharist is placed in my mouth the words "for healing of soul and BODY" resound in my mind over and over. I get to the back of the church say a final prayer and exit the church. I cannot go back into the overcrowded, stuffy cry room and Alexander is still acting wiggly and noisy. We play outside a little until Andrew comes out. We go get pizza. Alexander will always eat pizza. I take more medicine. Andrew wants me to go to the doctor. I go to the cupboard and also take a leftover antibiotic prescription. I have enough for three days. It is probably a poor choice to not go to the doctor, but I hate my doctor and I hate missing work. After lunch, I send Andrew and Alexander on a nonsensical errand and steal the time for a little nap of my own. When they get back I have no choice but to do things with Andrew and Alexander and then finally put him down for a nap. Andrew and I grab a bowl of ice cream and collapse in the living room. We sit and watch a "Deadliest Catch" Marathon. My head pounds through it all. I don't want to wake up Alexander, but I want him to go to bed at a decent time too. I convince Andrew to come grocery shopping with me to get the week’s worth. While Andrew is in the checkout line I make a mad dash to the pharmacy. Breathe Right Nasal Strips catch my eye and I grab a box. Alexander and I play while Andrew puts together the grill I sent him to buy on the nonsense shopping trip. I make a little salad for dinner. Time flies by quickly. It’s time to put Alexander to bed. I haven’t gotten anything done all day. That’s okay. Just before bed I put on the nasal strip. It’s a God send. I can breathe. I still have lots of pain in my nasal cavity, but I can breath and that makes things more comfortable. I read a little then quickly drift off to sleep.

Day 5 (Monday/Today) - By morning I can still breathe. But, I still have pain. I take all my medicine all over again. Alexander thinks I look pretty funny with the nasal strip on. I took it off. He was grumpy this morning, but his thumb is starting to not look so infected. He also ate breakfast. I have some coffee and the pain medicine kicks in. I can still breathe and the pain is gone. I hope it will start going away. That’s the long weekend.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Renee's Wisdoms of the Day

1. You do not need to "win" to succeed.

2. In every action, pursue the good of the action--for then good will come of your actions.

3. Trust no one completely--not even yourself--we are all fallen and fallible creatures. You can only trust one so far as that one can be trusted.