Worth the Dough

 

My friend Marilyn told me this story about another friend of hers.

The friend loves to eat frozen chocolate chip cookie dough out of those big tubs you can buy.  Quick treat … take it out of the freezer, sit down at the table with it and a spoon,  eat some, put the lid back on and put back in freezer.  Alot faster than baking them!

Then one day this same friend realized that she had lost the diamond out of her ring.  She looked and looked and was just heartbroken.

So, of course, she consoled herself with her favorite treat … she went to her stash of frozen cookie dough.

She was sitting at the table eating her treat, when suddenly it was painful when she bit down.  She thought, “Oh, no!  Something else to worry about.  I’ve probably lost a filling and will have to go to the dentist!”

Then she took what she thought was the broken filling out of her mouth … and … you guessed it, didn’t you?  You’re so clever.

She took the missing diamond out of her mouth!  It must have come loose and dropped in there the last time she ate some!

She was so relieved  that she treated herself to an extra helping of her favorite treat … the cookie dough.

Moral to this story?  If you really want to, whether you’re sad, happy or something in between, you can always find a reason for a little frozen cookie dough!

The Style Show

 

I was given the opportunity to be part of a style show on Friday, and took lots of pictures (not all good!).  I wasn’t sure you would be interested in seeing them, but the stylist/coordinator has now asked me to send my pictures to her and the only way I know to do that (because it’s the only way I know to make them fewer pixels) is to run them through here.  Sooooo …

Here are pictures of my first, last and only style show participation.  It was fun to see the preparation and how things are handled behind-the-scenes at a style show.

Note:  I apologize in advance for the quality of these pictures.  You’ll notice some are really dark (and I’ve even lightened them some), but it wasn’t very well lit backstage.  And I’m sure nerves and rushing played a role too.

  This is Wendy the stylist.  We met at Macy’s to try on clothes for the show.  It was interesting  to have someone else pick out whole outfits for me to wear, right down to the jewelry, shoes and handbags.

  The stage before the show, when we were preparing for a run-through.

     The “models” and the people who would be helping us get dressed.

    The dressing room. 

  On our racks each of our three outfits were hung together, with the jewelry in a bag over one of the hangers, purses and hats on the rack above …

   … and shoes below.

 

   I loved this outfit but I don’t feel like it photographed very well.  There were big ruffles down the front of the blouse, and a nautical feel to the sweater with big brass buttons, cuffed sleeves and a hood. (And when I put the pointy-toed high heels on with it the pants did not drag the floor!)

  Yes, Angel’s tall, but I still can’t believe I cut off the top of her cute hat!

     The reason everyone is barefoot in this room is the tile floor.  The shoes, which were on loan from the store of course, were only worn on carpet to avoid damaging them.

  She was the only other model who was my contemporary.  What a cutie!

   Wendy liked both the black and white coat and the red jacket with this outfit, so she had me change from one to the other on-stage.  (I did buy the black and white shirt.  It was stretchy, gathered, fairly flattering and comfortable.  What’s not to love?)

   Every time I saw this outfit I thought of Woodstock.  But in a good way!  Cute hat.

 

  The girl on the left is one of the three who helped us get dressed.  What a God-send they were!

   I’m not sure “shiney” and “size 14” are in my comfort zone, but, hey, I’m not a stylist.

   When I was getting ready to go out in my “shiney” dress, one of the helpers said, “You know, when you wear an evening dress alot of times you get your picture taken, so you ought to surprise the audience by taking their picture!”  So she quickly took the stuffing out of the evening bag I would be carrying so that I could put my camera in it.  Then when I got mid-stage, I stopped, told them I was turning the tables on them, and took their picture! 

 

  This was such a pretty dress but I got such a bad picture of it. 

  So, I went back and looked at the backgrounds of other pictures and found a shot of it hanging on the rack (albeit the back of it!) next to its model so that you could see a little better what a pretty dress it was (and the model too!).  See it hanging on the end of the rack?

 

  This picture doesn’t do this suit justice.  It was a pale blue waffle-weaved material with metallic threads running through it.  Absolutely beautiful.

   Angel was definitely someone who had modeled before, and looked fabulous in everything she wore.  But, this was my favorite outfit of hers.  She was gorgeous.

This was a fun experience.  Thank you Wendy and Macy’s for including me.

Better Safe Than Sorry

 

One afternoon last week, I went shopping at a major department store at the mall.  Because I had to pick up an alteration for Hubby in the men’s department, I parked outside the door on that level, one that isn’t terribly busy, so there is usually good parking available.

I did my other shopping first, then came down to the men’s level, picked up Hubby’s things, and then, with my arms really full, and thankful that my car was just outside the door, I wound through the department toward the outside door.

There weren’t too many customers around right then, so I particularly noticed when I walked past four young men who appeared to just be “hanging out”.  It crossed my mind that it was a little odd that they weren’t in the trendy big t-shirts and baggy jeans department, but in the men’s suits, shirts and ties department, where I wouldn’t expect them to find much they liked.

After I had walked a ways past them, as the aisle turned a corner I casually looked around and could see out of the corner of my eye that one of them was walking behind me.  Not very close, but was keeping pace with me.

As I approached the door, I decided right then that I wasn’t going to walk out into the parking lot with that young man behind me, even though it was two o’clock on a sunny afternoon.  I knew that it would be very easy for someone his age and size to knock me down, grab my purse, and be gone before I could even get up.  (And I am especially fond of the new green purse I just bought for Spring, and I definitely wasn’t interested in losing it!)  

So, instead of turning left to go out the door, I made a right turn and walked into the Nautica area where Luanne, a friendly acquaintance from church, works and I could see her there. 

I walked over to Luanne and told her quietly that I thought the young man now browsing at racks just past the door had been following me.  About this time, another young man joined him, and the two of them walked out the door. Because we were standing right in line with the door, we could see them walk straight out into the parking lot.  They obviously hadn’t stopped just outside the door and that was encouraging.  So, I was ready to just forget about it and walk out to my car.

But, Luanne was now all about keeping me safe … all 70 years old, 90 pounds-soaking-wet of her!  So, she called another clerk over to watch her area, and she said she was going to walk me to my car.  And my reply was, “So Luanne, if some guy grabs me, you’re going to wrestle him to the ground and hold him in a head lock until the police come?”  With a smile, she agreed I had a point, and I suggested an alternate plan … that she stand at the door and watch me walk to my car, and if she saw anything happen, she would immediately call 911.

I then walked uneventfully to my car, waved to my new favorite “watch dog” Luanne, and never saw the young men again. 

 I hope I was wrong about the intentions of those young men.  And I hope I was casual enough about my change in plans, that if they weren’t planning what I thought, they didn’t even notice me.

But, if by some chance those young men were looking for trouble, I now pray that somehow this missed opportunity might give them time to re-think their choices, and that God will touch their hearts, open their eyes and change their ways.

So, had I misjudged them?  Was robbing me the last thing on their minds?  I will never know.  But, I do know that I took myself out of a situation where there was the potential for something bad to happen.  

I’ve come to realize that the old sayings are sayings because they’re true!  And one that applies here is, Better safe than sorry.

A Reminder That He Is Faithful

 

When we were leaving the fundraiser Monday evening, it had just stopped raining, and we saw this …

A reminder of this …

Genesis 9:11-13   I solemnly promise never to send another flood to kill all living creatures and destroy the earth.”  And God said, “I am giving you a sign as evidence of my eternal covenant with you and all living creatures.  I have placed my rainbow in the clouds.  It is the sign of my permanent promise to you and to all the earth.” 

May your Sunday be blessed with the peace that comes from knowing that God cares about each of us, and never breaks a promise.

Guess Who I Ran Into!

 

Monday evening Hubby and I went to a fundraising event at the new downtown ball stadium.

  We are political conservatives, so we didn’t really agree with using taxpayer dollars to build this really grand new stadium downtown because it was replacing a perfectly good (but plainer and smaller) stadium outside the city limits that was only about 15 years old.  But, now that it’s built, we certainly will do everything we can to support it and make it a success … including attending events that are hosted there like this one.  And, even though we have never been big baseball fans, now that we’ve seen the stadium, I think we might even attend a game or two!

Anyway, the fundraising event was held in one of the reception areas in the complex and featured dining tables decorated by local businesses that would then be used for a luncheon the next day.  The creativity is fun to see.  (btw, the reason I was able to get Hubby to attend this cocktail party is because it was at the new stadium, and they gave tours!)

My nail tech, Tammy, is not only knowledgable in many things (see this post about her last week), but also she’s very creative.  So, she has donated a table to this event for the last six years, and hers is always one of the most original.  Well, this year she scored a first.  She had “live animation”.  She had ELVIS!

  Tammy and “Elvis” (aka, her 15 year old son)

  I love this picture of someone, who I’m pretty sure remembers the real Elvis, doing a cheek-pat,

   but even better is the reaction of the women in the background!

  Tammy’s table had a huge cutout of Elvis in the middle.

  

  Tammy’s attention to detail always makes her table fun to see.

   Tammy’s son may not have been around to see the real Elvis, but it didn’t take him long to adopt some of the “attitude”!

Good work, Tammy and “Elvis”! 

You just never know who you might run into.

Public Accessibility Taken to a New Level!

 

Our Weight Watcher group meets in the clubhouse of a near-by neighborhood which is currently being remodeled. 

When I walked into the lobby of the clubhouse this week, this is what greeted me!

Now, far be it from me to second guess whomever is in charge of this remodel, but I have to wonder about the apparent new placement of the restroom. 

Although, when you think about it, and modesty aside,  it does have several things going for it … it’s verrrry convenient and there’s a large supply of reading material near-by!

Happy Thursday!  May you see some scenes like this today that make you smile, as this one did me.

The Smokehouse

 

  The smokehouse had been built in the early 1900’s and was used by previous generations of Hubby’s family to smoke the meat from the livestock they raised for food.

But during Hubby’s parents’ generation, they stopped raising and butchering their own meat, so Grandpa cleaned out the smokehouse and let his grandchildren play in it.  

So, the little two-room smokehouse became a playhouse for our children and their cousins.  And, one of the games they frequently played when they were all together at Grandma and Grandpa’s was a version of hide and seek that involved the smokehouse.  The girls (there were quite a few more of them) would hide around the farm, and the boys would find them and put them in the back room of the smokehouse that they called the jail. 

    Hubby surprised some of the girls (DD’s the oldest one) one time when they were hiding behind the smokehouse from the boys.

 I don’t want to cast aspersions on the loyalty to the “girl team” of this niece, but she seems to suddenly be awfully buddy buddy with these two from the “boy team”!  Oh wait a minute.  They’re her brothers.  Maybe she’s brokering a deal.

DD mentioned to me one time that once in a while the “jail” room in the smokehouse had a funny smell and she suspected the boys sometimes used it as a bathroom.  But, I told her I felt sure they weren’t doing that and reminded her that it used to be a smokehouse, so it was to be expected that there might be some residual animal smells.  That idea seemed to satisfy her and she never mentioned it again.  But years later when Hubby had to dismantle the falling-down smokehouse, I remembered DD’s long ago comment and we had to chuckle.  When he got the door to the back room, aka jail, out in the bright sun, he could see faintly scrawled on it, “Jail and Bathroom”!  What is it they say?  “To a little boy, all the world is a bathroom!”

For almost a century that little brick building had served Hubby’s family, first to help put food on the table, and then to entertain our children (and apparently sometimes to save a little boy a trip to the house!).

The Liz Taylor Dress

 

When DD was a senior in high school, she saw a picture of Liz Taylor in People magazine in a beautiful dress with a unique, cape-like neckline, and she told me, “THAT’S the dress I want for the prom!”

Of course, she was confident she could say that because we knew and loved the wonderful Rosemary, seamstress par excellance.  And Rosemary loved DD and I knew she would do her best to replicate the dress from the picture for her.  And Rosemary certainly didn’t let us down.  She did a beautiful job.

So, for her senior prom, DD didn’t have to worry about whether someone else would show up in the same dress, because hers was an original. 

  We always referred to this dress as the Liz Taylor dress.  (I can’t find a full length picture, but it was tea length.)

And, of course, the Liz Taylor dress was worn with the infamous cookie cutter!

  DD even wore it to a college dance once … probably just to show her dad she was getting good value for his hard earned dollars that had been spent for a very special dress she just had to have!

Ah, proms … the “date” decision, the deciding what to wear, the hair decisions, the angst.  Fun, but nerve-racking, whether the attendee or the mother of the attendee!

Happy prom planning mothers and daughters!

Our Collective Mite

 

mite [noun]:  a small coin or sum of money, a very little

If you put your tithe check in the church collection plate at the beginning of each month, what do you put in the plate at other services the rest of the month?  It’s so easy to tell yourself, “I’m covered.  I’ve already given.”  

But, think about this.  What if every person put something, a mite,  in the collection plate every time?  A dollar … even change.

First of all, the visual of Mommy and Daddy’s consistent giving, no matter how small, would reinforce the act of giving in the impressionable minds of children.  Very small children don’t see “money” when they see an offering envelope go into the plate.  And children can be really young and be given a small coin to put in themselves.

Each time an offering plate is passed, it is another opportunity for us to show God that we remember that everything we have is by His grace, by repeatedly giving  a portion of what we have, no matter how small, back to Him.

The Devil knows our weaknesses and vanities and plays us like a violin.  So, he whispers in our ear, “You don’t want to insult God with that piddly little amount.  Better to wait until you have more to give.”

I have heard of parents who give their children a coin to drop in the plate, and have taught them to softly say the word “thankful” as they do it.

Jesus fed the 5,000 with a few fish and loaves of bread.  If every Christian put something, no matter how small,  in the collection plate every time it was passed, how might  God use those small amounts to do big things in His name?

And how pleasing to God’s ear would be a chorus of softly spoken “thankful’s”!

Not Just About Nails

 

One of the things I have noticed about people who have jobs that expose them to a large variety of customers regularly, is that they become virtual founts of information that they hear from those customers.

My barber, Dan, is always interesting and knowledgeable about politics, world events, sports, religion … serious, “meaty” stuff about which he hears facts and viewpoints constantly from his customers, making him able to debate both sides of almost any issue!

Ahh, but my nail tech, Tammy.  She is a source of interesting information of a much more “folksy” variety.  I have told her she should write a book with all the tidbits of interesting information in it that she has collected from her customers.  Information that she then passes on to other customers, if the subject comes up.

Some examples that come to mind:

If a baby won’t go to sleep, lay them on the bed on their back.  Then rotate them twice counter-clock-wise to settle them down and make them sleep.

If your rose bushes are being bothered by Japanese beetles, put a white dish (Cool Whip containers work well) with water in it under each bush.  Apparently beetles like white, so the white dish attracts the beetles and they will drown in the water.

If you have moles in your yard, buy a few of those wind mills that they used to give as prizes at carnivals when I was a child.  You know the ones … plastic, on a stick, usually colorful and go around when you blow on them or the wind blows?  Stick their sticks  into the ground in the area where you see evidence of the moles.  The motion of the wind mills causes vibration in the ground which the moles don’t like because it messes with their little blind senses, so they will move on.

Tammy is also a consummate shopper.  So, between her own experience and what she hears from her customers, at any given time, she can tell you what the best place is to buy just about anything, what the color choices are and when the sale ends!

All this, and great nails too.