Gross Factor: 4 out of 10

What do you call it when you have a duty to do in the bathroom? Did you use the number system as a child? One for liquids, two for solids? It was used in the home I grew up in. And I used it with my children. It was a code to be used in lieu of vocalizing in public the gross alternatives such as "poop". I had not realized it was such a part of our culture, although probably not spelled out anywhere -- until recently. Where did I discover this? In the bathroom of course. It's always educational to travel, don't you think? Well, along the route between Wenham, Massachusetts and Geneva, Illinois, I was educated on the fact that the whole world must use the number system. In a rest area, doing my own business, was a new kind of toilet. I warned you this has a gross factor. Instead of the normal handle to flush, this toilet had a special orange colored handle with instructions for the uninitiated (me). It told me to push the handle up for number 1 (liquids) and push it down for solids (number 2). Apparently this will conserve clean water as one requires more water than the other. I had to chuckle; all the moms in the world have had their private language published. It's offical.

Miriam, my dear, I can so relate.

Miriam and brother Aaron, the older ones in the family, were ticked at baby brother Moses. To be sure, he's all grown up now and the leader of their nation. And he has been the catalyst in getting them out of Egyptian slavery. God got his attention one day, gave him a mission, and Moses accomplished it. That certainly is commendable. He has done all sorts of wonderful things for their people. And he loves God. But you know, there's something younger brother has done recently that makes older sister question his ability to lead.

"He went and married a Cushite woman. A Cushite! Someone who has just tagged along with our people, but really isn't one of us. How could he do this? You know, other people have heard God's voice besides Moses. Hasn't He spoken to us too, Aaron? I'm sure God must be displeased with Moses for marrying that woman. One of us should take over leadership. I bet God feels the same way we do."

Aaron and Miriam quietly began criticizing Moses behind his back. But Someone had Moses' back. God heard the grumbling, and was not thrilled with their attitude.

"Moses, Miriam, Aaron, come meet with Me at the tent. . . Miriam and Aaron, come closer to me. You know, I sometimes choose a person to be a prophet, to tell others messages from me. And when I do that, it is through a vision or a dream at night. That's how they hear My voice. But it's completely different with Moses. With Moses, we speak face to face. He hears me directly, not in mysterious sayings. So tell me Miriam and Aaron, why aren't you afraid to criticize My servant, this man I have a very close relationship with?"

No answer.

Well,the Lord, having a father's heart for us, was angry at His two children. He left them angry and when Aaron looked over at his sister, her skin was white with leprosy. Moses asked the Lord to heal her. Guess what His answer was? "If her father had spit in her face, wouldn't she be humiliated for a few days afterward?" So Miriam camped away from her people a short distance for 7 days. Then her skin was okay and she returned.

Miriam dear, I can so relate. Here's what I do that's uncomfortably like you. I look at someone in authority or higher responsibility and see something wrong, or something I think is wrong, and get critical. Then, to make matters worse, I am convinced God is right with me on this one. He's agreeing with me, in my imagination. I'm thinking God is opposed to the other guy, but in reality, He is opposed to my self-righteous judging of someone I'm not responsible for. Ouch.

Raccoons, a Cat, and Tulips

Another beautiful Sunday morning. There are pink and yellow tulips outside my corner window. It's in this spot I can see the neighbor's cat, who is very pregnant, walk slowly through our yard.

I'm not sure, but it seems she is interested in the crawl space under our spa room floor. Maybe she wants to birth her babies there? I'll be surprised if she does; I believe it already has tenants - raccoons. We don't know for sure if there are raccoons under there, but I certainly heard a ferocious animal quarrel coming from under the floor boards a few months ago, and since we occasionally spy raccoons in our yard, I think that's who is sleeping under our house.

This is very gross, but there is another reason for us to think "raccoons". Up on the roof, outside Patrick's bedroom window, we occasionally find a rather large animal dropping. You can't really call it a "dropping" because it definitely is more than a mere drop. Enough description. It must be from an animal of some size. Please don't tell me it's a human up there. Raccoons I can take; peeping Toms who like to go potty on my roof - not so much.

Crow brains

I wonder about the lives of crows. Ever since I heard they can live up to 50 years, I became interested in what goes on in their minds! There's got to be something going on in those small brains to survive for 50 years. Do they each have their own personality?

I had a pet parakeet once. That bird had personality. He would sit on the side of my bath tub and enjoy the show! Ha ha. He would fly onto my head, grab my hair and hang upside down, looking at his reflection in my glasses. Really!

You may wonder how he got around so freely in our home? We let him fly around freely, back in the day when I guess I wasn't so concerned with droppings. Ewwww! Sounds unbelievable now, but we allowed it. Of course, he didn't do his business constantly and often I was around him close enough to clean up after him. Nevertheless, the Department of Sanitation would NOT be pleased.

Back to crows. I'm convinced all birds have their own personality. We just aren't allowed the privilege of being intimate with them since they are wild, and don't need our companionship. If they COULD talk so we understood, what would they say? "Hey Oscar! See that guy down there walking his dog? Can you hit him on that bald spot? Five points!"

The end.

To be chosen by a horse . . .

Would that not be special? Especially for a young girl who has believed lies about her self worth. Skunk has chosen my daughter, complete with going to her when she calls, following her across the corral, and nuzzling her leg and side when being brushed. The equine therapist says Skunk is an aloof horse, sometimes bossy, not real social. Skunk chose a girl who has been aloof, not real social, and in need of a friend. A horse is honest. They don't put on airs, or pretend to like a person.

Well, Skunk is going to be a mom soon. She's due this month and is "heavy with child"! I asked Carole (the horse woman and clinical director), if Ashley can be present when Skunk gives birth. Carole said the mares usually like to have their babies when no one is around. She might go out in the morning and find a new foal. So what she told me is that if she finds Skunk having already delivered, she will make sure Ashley is the first girl out there to pet the babe and enjoy the moment. Isn't that cool?

We so long for the approval of people. But isn't it worth gold to have the approval of an honest animal, who sees not our shortcomings, our big nose or thick waist? They see inside, as God does.

Teases and Creamses

Showers and Breezes
Curtains a sway;
Teases and creamses
A warm spring day

Tulips, and robins
Sweet songs and sweet scents
I care not, I ask not, where the snow went.

Come sit for awhile on my porch in the eve
We’ll drink teases and creamses and laugh in the breeze

Dare I say that word? OBEDIENCE

If you are like me, the word obedience does not have a joyful ring to it. How often is the word used in a sentence that brings something pleasant to mind? But,if I think Biblically, or rather believe the Bible, it is something that is to result in being blessed.

I've had a taste of that blessing on occasion... usually when I am walking in submission to the Lord in some area of my life - I mean a specific area. Example? In the last 4 months I have made a choice to abstain from some things in my life that had way too much control over me. Actually, this was more involved than a mere choice - it has required support from other people, literature to read, steps to take. Here it is: I joined a 12-step program. (No, I'm not an alcoholic). I have chosen abstaining from trigger foods that have become an addiction to me. The blessing? I am walking on air. There is hope in heart for walking free from the bondage of those trigger foods. It makes me feel better about myself. I'm actually losing weight (which is a nice by-product of breaking the addiction). So this is a positive - by obeying God's directive to not let anything have control over me.

There has been another way I've seen the blessing of obedience and the lesson came to me through a non-human being. The non-human? My dog, Kippie. I tell you, having a dog has done wonders for me. Here's the latest. I so want Kip to be able to go outside with us when we work in the yard, or swing on the swing. But we have no fence. Putting her on a leash is okay, but she really can't follow us around and sniff at new things. It's just a drag for her to be chained up (maybe like I've been with food?) Here's what has struck me. I, her owner, deeply desire to bless her with freedom to run around. But I can't do that as long as she won't mind me, coming when I call. She is getting better. Saturday she was out in the yard with us for a good 45 minutes. But then she started wandering off too far and not coming when I would call - so back in the house she went. She lost her freedom.

Don't you think that's how God looks at us? If we will just stay within the boundaries He has set for us, we will experience all kinds of wonderful freedoms we don't realize are waiting for us.

Obedience really is meant to be a blessing. It's when I ignore it that it looks like a chain. The chain is around me when I don't obey. I deceptively think the chain is waiting for me when I obey. That's not true! Obedience gives me wings.

Immortal Words

In Border's the other day I found a book on sale called, "Immortal Words, History's Most Memorable Quotations and the Stories Behind Them". It is surprising how old some of our current day quotations are. Seriously. Here are some phrases I bet you've heard used at least once in recent memory:

Familiarity breeds contempt.
A man should practice what he preaches, but a man should also preach what he practices.
God loves to help him who strives to help himself.
It is quality rather than quantity that matters.
One good turn deserves another.
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.
Do as we say, not as we do.
Face the facts.
See one and you've seen them all.
We must eat to live, not live to eat.

Wonder when these were first uttered? Each quote is assigned a time span, based on the life of their author. In exact order:

620-560 BC, Aesop
551-479 BC, Confucious
525-456 BC, Aeschylus
4-65 AD, Seneca, the Younger
66 AD, Petronius
155/160-222/230 AD, Tertullian
1313-1371 AD, Boccaccio
1473-1543 AD, Copernicus
1577-1640 AD, Robert Burton
1622-1673 AD, Moliere

But the one that surprised me the most is the second oldest listed in the book:

"Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." Lao-Tzu, 600 BC

I was sure this quote was first made by Republicans.

The Baby-Talk Club and Coo Coo Dee Coo

While walking Kip today I got a chuckle remembering several things from my childhood. One was the Baby-talk Club. My friend, Michelle Macy, and I decided to start a club for ourselves and the aim was to learn what baby babbling meant in adult talk. We came up with some ideas for different sounds and thought it was a good idea, and fun. By the next day we had forgotten about it.

Michelle was an interesting friend. She probably is a brain surgeon today -- I don't know, I just have a feeling about that. She was intelligent and creative and probably was the leader in our duo. She lived across the street from us and a little to the right. In her back yard was a large willow tree and a rescued pigeon, named Coo Coo Dee Coo. Also in her backyard on occasion was her brother Bruce. I did NOT like Bruce. He scared me. I liked Coo Coo Dee Coo -- and the willow tree.

Also, in her back yard, was a grape vine of succulent, purple grapes -- the kind you squeeze between two fingers and the skin remains behind while you plop the delicious innards into your waiting mouth. Mmmmmm. So good. I believe they may be called Concord grapes and Welches must have all the vines nowadays because I've not seen one since then.

The WHOLE story

Friend Jan told me I should tell the rest of the bread story.


So after eating my beef sandwich and still not being satisfied, you'd think I would find a healthy food alternative. Right? Nah.

I went back to the white bread . . .
toasted . . .
slathered . . .
with real butter . . .
three slices.

White Bread - not wonder bread in my book

It's a sunny Monday morning. I stopped at Fresh Market this morning to buy some black grapes. Shoot! They weren't as sweet as I had hoped. Oh well. This is Illinois in March. I'm serving them tonight with Jarlsburg Swiss Cheese. Yummy. This is dessert, it's so good.

As I was pulling out of the parking lot, there was a bag sitting by itself, away from any cars. Hmmm. After just watching the Iraq war movie, "The Hurt Locker", I thought of bombs as I approached. What if there's a bomb in there. All it takes is for me to slightly move it and I'm in 1 million little bits. But again, this is Illinois! As I peeked in the bag - KABOOM! - just kidding. It was a loaf of white bread from Jewell. It must have fallen out of someone's car. Should I take it? No one around. What if it's been poisoned? The cheapness in me won out. Home it goes - even though I NEVER buy white bread like this. How can I pass it up? When I got home and made a beef sandwich with it (and am still alive), I recalled why I don't buy white bread. It practically disappeared in my hands even before biting into the bread. There's nothing of substance there! And after eating my should-be-filling sandwich, I was hungry for more - of anything!

Aren't you glad I'm educating you on white bread on this fine, sunny, Monday morning?

Dear Blog of Mine

Dear Blog,

I've ignored you, haven't I? Facebook has captured my heart for the last year and you are unfortunately on the losing end.

Here are some of my current feelings:

Grateful, ecstatic, excited, hopeful: Daughter Ashley was flown to Virgin, Utah on December 8, 2009. We had reached a crisis moment with her. After several years of family upheaval, praying, searching, hoping for something to help us all, it seems our prayers have been answered through a good lawyer, educational consultant, and Falcon Ridge Ranch. Thank You Jesus. She is doing phenomenal. It seems I have my little girl back, plus a few years.

Jeff and I visit her next week. All of us are very excited. She wants to hug us, go out to eat with us, shop with us, visit an animal sanctuary with us, go hiking with us, share a song publicly for us, share a scrapbook she made for us. Can you tell my heart is full?

Proud and grateful: Son Colin has a good counselor who is helping him say goodbye to a girlfriend who has been bad news. Counselor says he knows a girl who might be a good fit for him. That's all he needed to say goodbye to the old one. He is making steps to truly cut things off with her - yet he has broken up with her at least 50 times. It seems different this time. He is not answering her calls or texts, except briefly to say it's over. He knows she may show up at certain times of the day so plans to be away from home (hey, whatever it takes!). So I'm proud of him finding the strength (with good support) to do this.

I've had fun lately trying to gather 6 or so antique plates, all different, to use when guests come for supper. I naively began my search thinking I should easily be able to find lone plates for around $3-$5. There are SOME at that price, but most are around $20. So I've taken up a challenge, to find bargains. Call me cheap - but this is more enjoyable than shelling out boo-coo bucks at every store I enter.

I'm also searching for antique cups and saucers (also having begun my search in the realm of naivety). They are usually $15-$20 each. My goal is again a mere pittance. Want to join me in my quest?

Random thoughts this morning:

My niece, Carrie, had a little boy this morning! Hurray!

It's muddy, brown, overcast but in the 40's today - so yay! I'll take it.

There's an estate sale down the street today - think I'll go check out if they have any antique plates or cups and saucers!

Book group is coming up and we're doing another fascinating book: Epicenter, by Joel Rosenberg.

All for now, Bloggie-dear. Until next time. . .

Mirror, Mirror, on the wall . . .

Should I write something meaningful, or write what's on my heart? Meaningful loses.

The topic of choice today is change. Sister Jacquie posted a picture of herself, Patsy and I taken a few weeks back. It did NOT make my day. Think of a pale, albino tomato with big red lips, faded eyes, and a human body that has been neglected over the last few months(years). That is what I saw in the photo - and the tomato was NOT named Jacquie or Patsy! Although I can't get rid of the picture on other fb profile pages, it was removed from mine within a matter of minutes! Need I explain? I've changed. Gone is the thin, long-haired, young girl that used to live in my mirror. She slowly left with each bite of brownie, each day of sitting instead of moving, and with each new sunrise and sunset. If you younger women are like I used to be, you probably think you won't ever get to this point. Warning! It can happen easier than you think.

This week, when Patrick's girlfriend was visiting, I found myself wanting to show her pictures of a skinny, younger me. And I did. But I wasn't so "transparent" as to tell her WHY I was showing her the photos. She thinks I wanted her to see baby pictures of Pat. "Isn't Patrick cute?!" Translation: "see how exquisite I was?!!" barf.

I think the aging face in the mirror is God's way of preparing us for eternity. We see ourselves getting older, weaker, wrinklier and know our days are numbered. Aging also has a way of humbling those of us who are too concerned with our appearance and it causes one to ponder what makes a person valuable. The inside or the outside?

Am I learning this lesson? Hmmm, I think I'm just beginning. To be fair to God, He has not made me fat. I did that. But the wrinkles and faded eyes are a message from Him - "your body will only last so long."

So as I look in my mirror tomorrow, I need to remember there are two messages for me. One is from the Lord: you are mortal. The other is from my body: respect me.

The End.

What I write when I'm tired of playing Scrabble

I have decided to post something so you can hear me think.

It would be nice if I were funny right now. If I am funny, others will like to read my blogs and I will get some attention from you all.

Can people who are naturally funny be funny whenever they want? I'd like to be like Billy Crystal, whom I'm sure can be funny whenever he chooses.

I will be fascinating.

I drove to the bank today. My eyebrows are getting thin and gray. If you put a drop of dishwashing liquid in a bowl with apple cider vinegar, it attracts the gnats that sometimes invade your home. They eat it and die. I've been killing alot of gnats this week. Do you find this fascinating?

Maybe I'll try to be smart.

If you find a squiggly white thing in your hard boiled egg, it's a dead embryo. I learned that in high school. Probably around the time I dissected an earth worm. I was good at dissecting the worm and remembering all of it's parts. Frogs are too hard for me. When we did the frog, there were too many parts.

Meditative Ramblings

Sitting here on a Monday morning, noting the date: July 20, 2009, I'm struck by my relationship to time, my feelings about time. Each flip of the calendar can be a moment of wonder - about the future. What is in store for me this year, this decade?

Time is lived, is passed, is gone, is remembered, is part of who I am. Never can a moment be repeated, or done over, or changed.

Will there be time in eternity? Time is marked by change, so how will this be handled? You are full of mystery and wonder; it will be a wonderful thing to experience.

Jesus, You have given me a time. It is for a certain length. You picked when I would be born and when I will mortally die. "My times are in Your hand." Thank you for the time You have given me. Some people's lives are much shorter than mine has been. Why have You gifted me with almost 56 years of time, while my friend, Cathy, was given 49? What is Your will and plan for all the minutes You are giving me? Help me to use the time for good.

Time can be wasted, endured, resented, ignored, spent, forgotten, unappreciated. And time can be cherished, valued, filled with good things, enjoyed, appreciated, planned for, learned from.

You are bigger than time. You say You are the Alpha and the Omega: the Beginning and the End. All that is, is sandwiched inside of You. Nothing can exist before You or after You. Yet You had no beginning and no end. This is so awe-full, so marvelous, amazing, incomprehensible, beyond human reasoning or understanding.

My God, there is none like You.

The Ultimate Insult

Family doctors can be wonderful things. We have a pretty good one. He is personable, caring, and attentive. I've always liked him. But I have a gripe with him of late. What's my gripe? His outlook on my present status. You see, I went in for my regular check up and he started asking questions about woman things - of the monthly sort. Well, it's interesting you should ask that, I says. Things are slowing down a bit. I don't mind a bit, you know? (This is a good thing in my mind.) But then his response: "Your body is shutting down" My body is shutting down? My body . . . my body . . . is . . . what? shutting down? How can you say that to me? What medical school did you attend anyway? I always thought so highly of you, but now . . . well . . . I'm not so sure. My body is shutting down. Is it possible to re-boot? And while you're at it, could someone fix the thermostat in here? Who on earth keeps turning up the heat everywhere I go?

Is it smart to take your older sister's advice?

Sister Jacquie sent an email recently about keeping your car's remote controls near you as you sleep, in case you hear suspicious sounds outside. You can push 'alarm' and the "criminal" will run. I read her email, thought that's probably helpful for people in the inner city - and then forgot it. Until . . .

. . . last night. I couldn't sleep (complications of menopause) at 3 am so I went downstairs to read. While sitting there I heard a noise that sounded like my car (you know, it's kind of like how you can recognize your child's voice from other children). Hmmm. I got my remote key controls and looked out the front window from my darkened room. My car and another car were parked along the street and there was a man out there! Apparently he was checking all the cars to see if they were locked. He had found mine locked and moved on to the next car, I conjectured. I'll show him! I pushed the alarm (in the dark). Nothing happened. Again. Darn, wrong button. I found it. BEEP BEEP BEEP! Ha ha, I'll scare him off! Just then he opened the door of the second car, got in (!) and drove away in a hurry. oh . . . ha . . . nervous laugh . . . it was his car.

Oh well. He'll just think it was a quirk (am I a quirk?).

I went back to reading. This is NOT the end of the story. Remember how I had trouble finding the alarm button in the dark? I actually did push a button. When I raised the shades in my bedroom this morning and looked out at my car, much to my surprise I saw the trunk lid open. Yes, it had been opened by me and had been open all morning. What's worse, it rained ALL last night. So much for helpful emails from older and wiser sisters!

A "Maternal" Test I Could Forgo

You know you've reached true motherhood when your little baby can throw up on you and you don't bat an eye. I've reached that place. Again. It's been awhile (thankfully) since Ashley, let alone Patrick or Colin, has thrown up on me. But, nevertheless, it has happened again. The planets were all aligned for this. Said "baby" (Kip), snuck into Ashley's room and consumed some "forbidden fruit" (chocolate chip cookies). That's one planet. Add to the mix, me, exercising on the floor. That's another planet. And finally, bring in a crazy dog who decided to lay on my rising and falling stomach as I did back lifts (third planet). It was just so darn cute, you know? My stomach would rise up like a wave and up would go Kip, all the while chewing her rawhide toy. Look Ashley! Isn't this cute? Barf. Eeeewwooooo! Right on my neck pours a mocha shake, smelling of chocolate. Like I said, all the planets were aligned.

New Hampshire

Home from New Hampshire. Have you been there? Think of north woods Wisconsin - maybe hillier. This is the ugly time of year for those states that experience 4 seasons - you know, mud, brown trees and grass, some lingering snow. Even so, I could tell it is a beautiful state. I'd love to see it in October when the leaves change - I bet it's stunning.

Colin and I flew to Boston last Friday, got our rental car and headed north on I-93. We landed during rush hour. Why is it called rush hour? You can do nothing even close to rushing! We had Jeff's handy GPS with us so our "lady friend" directed us all the way. After about two hours on the road, we arrived in Henniker, NH. Well, almost. The hotel I found online was south of town and turned out to be a ski lodge, right under a ski hill. I was hoping I had made a mistake - you know, had arrived at the wrong hotel? Alas, they had our name. Okay, we'll deal with it - it was clean enough. Definitely not 5 star, 4 star, or 3 star - well, maybe 3 star. We were only going to be there two nights - we could take it. Later that night, I had my doubts. I awoke in the middle of the night and heard what sounded like a mouse. Hmmm. Did I hear right? It sounds like it's coming from near the bathroom and right about now I could use a potty break. I laid still, listening. Scratch, scratch. That's a mouse, I know it. Should I try to check out at this hour? Or in the morning maybe? Geesh, I get mice in my house - shouldn't I be understanding of them, in this remote, woodsy ski lodge? Nah. They should do a better job than me! After all, I'm paying for a mouse-free bed!

Well, I've got to go potty. Out of bed, I slowly walk toward the restroom and turn on a light. No mouse outside the bathroom. Hmmm. I peer inside and look in every crook and cranny. No mouse here. Good. I do my business and head back to bed. After a few seconds I hear the sound again. Where IS that critter?!! As I moved my feet under my sheets ever so slightly, I realize what's happening. My feet sound like a mouse scratching - and the scratching I heard before was Colin's feet, moving under his sheets! The mouse was my dear son! Whew! Now I feel better.

This reminds me of the time I almost got up to answer the call of one of my young sons in the middle of the night. I heard one of them say, "mom . . . mom?" It turned out to be Jeff's nose. He was squeaking and it sounded like "mom!"

The next day we visited a Christian residential program called, His Mansion. It is a wonderful place with wonderful staff and residents. We ate lunch with them in their communal dining room (think lumberjack dining room with a fireplace). Afterward, Fritz gave us a tour. We saw the barn (cats, cows, pigs, chickens), the maintenance shop, woodworking shop, log piles, a map of the gardens, dorms, chapel, offices, etc. It is located on an old 1700's farm and some of the buildings are that old. You should see one of their stone fireplaces. It towered over Colin by about 3 or four feet and receded two levels into the wall. The outer level had stone seats on the side, where you could sit to warm by the fire. The opening was an arch that rose high over our heads. It was stunning.

After the tour, we met with Fritz in his office. We have some info to get to him and then, of course, Colin needs to decide if he wants to go there. At this point, every word out of his mouth has been super positive. He likes all the staff and all the residents. He feels accepted by them and can tell they are nice guys who did some bad things - but are now getting their lives together. Some are there for other types of reasons. Apparently many of the girls had experienced being raped and are dealing with the trauma of that. We left after our interview and came back the next morning for their church service. Have any of you ever heard of Plymouth Brethren? That's more or less what they are. Fritz compared it to Baptist. A cool thing about their church service is they have a 10 minute silence period, where you are to sit quietly and meditate on scripture or pray. After that, they have a short time they call "The Priesthood of the Believer". This is when anyone can share a scripture, or a testimony of what God is saying or doing in their lives. It's pretty cool.

After church we drove back to Boston, hopped our plane and got home around 9 pm.

Colin is unsure he wants to endure the cold winters working outside. That IS something to think about. We're praying for God's will. Thanks for any prayers you offer up for us.

Being Blogless

I have nothing to write. I thought I better get on here and try to come up with something before I forget how to blog. It's sort of ironic that in years past, when I think I would have had much to write on a blog, it hadn't yet been invented. Now, it's here, I have a blog, and I have nothing to write! You see, my mind is in a sort of a brain-freeze mode. It's like I've fallen on my head and can't get up! Has anyone else ever had this experience? You know, life can be just a bit too painful to be able to function normally. All is not hopeless though as I can still laugh and joke around a bit. Send me your jokes please! In fact, I'll tell you one I heard recently. Stop me if you've heard this one.

A very shy man was smitten by a young woman. Because he was so shy he could not bring himself to tell her his true feelings, even though it seemed she liked him also. He decided to send her an anonymous love letter every day in the mail. Every day he wrote loving, devoted, passionate letters to her, expressing his true feelings without reserve. After a year, he decided he felt brave enough to speak to her, telling her his feelings. When he arrived at her home, he was flabbergasted to discover she had gotten married! And her husband? He was the postman.