Saturday, February 9, 2008


Hub's and I grew up in the South Metro Atlanta area. We now live in an itty bitty teeny tiny town. Did I stress, enough, how small our town is? >:0)

Small town's rock. At least our's does.

It drives me mad when people refer to (all) Hispanic people as Mexican, and Oriental people as Chinese.

I worked at UPS loading big gross trucks as a teenager.

Loading big gross trucks should be a mans job.

After much debate, we finally have decided to leave our church, for good. It's sad, but needed to be done. I'm at peace with our decision, although I do mourn the way it used to be.

We are looking for a new church where we can grow.

It stinks being a "visitor".

There is a group of Christians who stand at a busy intersection in our neighboring city, every weekend, holding signs with pictures of babies who have been aborted. They scream out about how sinners will go to hell. Sinners such as women who have had abortions, or homosexuals. The pictures make me cry. I have to make my children get down so that they don't see them. They are extremely graphic, and hugely displayed.

Saved Christian's are sinners, too.

Scaring people isn't the best tactic at bringing people closer to Christ.

The Prestonwood Choir rocks!

So does the Brooklyn Tabernacle.

I have an itching to visit a nursing home, or few, and play checkers and/or sing a chord with a bunch of sweet (and possibly some that may not be so sweet) elderly folk.

I met my bestfriend, online, in a pregnancy board. We've been friends for eight years.

I met my oldest best pal in kindergarten. She told on me because I wouldn't play with her. The teacher, in turn, made me play with her. At five, I didn't realize how long I'd actually like the ole gal.

Both of my best pals live in TN.

The thought of being in an airplane makes gray hair pop out of my head.

I've got enough gray hair.

I make up words. A lot of words. I don't know why, or how. I just do, without even realzing it. I can't share them, now, because I don't want anyone to take them. >:0P

I know that upon reading that last statement, my mom just rolled her eyes, and everyone else I know giggled.

I love nicknames. I have called my older sister Ooomers, which has since transpired into Ooomers Van Doomers, since I was a kid.

Her real name is Amy.

A few days ago, when we took the kids for a picnic in the park, an elderly fella strolled up to us in a golf cart. We quickly realised that he was the park attendant. He said, quite seriously, "I'm going to have to ask you folks to pack it up and leave." Naturally Darrell and I asked why, in a bothered tone. He responded, "Because you didn't invite me to the party. ha,ha,ha! I need to buy a camera so I can start recording that because the reaction I get is priceless."

I wish there were more people, just like that fella, in the world. >:0D

Relishing in His goodness......

Oh yes, and shall I not forget giving props to my best pal, Tiffany, who made my header. Darrell didn't realize that the picture of mine and Ella's hand was actually ours. He thought it was a graphic you found. It turned out fabulous! Thank you. I love you oodles.

1 comment:

Tiffany said...

Your header looks good, if I do say so myself...and all I did was put beautiful pictures did the real work in making beautiful babies. :-) Y'alls hands really make it what it is.

I love all your made up words. I wish I was that cool. I'm Disney channel cool, though. :)

I love your blog, and I love you!