Well, it’s here. That time in every parent’s life that we dread, that one evitable season where we live on faith and with one eye closed…yep, you guessed it…The Learner’s Permit. I’m thinking that there needs to be an accessory added to every car when a kid hits 15 that allows a parent to grab the wheel and slam on the brakes and avert sure disaster.
Uh…Pirate! Okay, you all remember that line in the first Pirates of the Carribean where Jack Sparrow cheats during the sword fight with Orlando, and Orlando gives him an incredulous look of disbelief? The reponse by Sparrow is priceless…he simply shrugs and says, “uh…Pirate!” as in, what did you expect?
It’s been adopted by our family as a response to questions like,
I am huge fan of WW2 stories. The first story I ever wrote (not published) was an epic (and we’re talking James Michener would be proud) story of WW2 in Russia, and its sweeping effects across that country. I love the drama, the intrigue, the courage, the romance…oh, the romance! *g* In short,
Yes, I admit it. I buy into the whole, “Time to make New Year’s Resolutions” thing every year. Like Dorothy in the Emerald City, I believe that if I make my “wish” and tap my feet three times, that resolution will happen. “I will lose ten pounds, I will lose ten pounds.” Or “I will make healthy dinners as opposed to frozen pizza…” (that’s hard to say quickly over and over,
I really don’t try to drive my daughter crazy. I promise I don’t. But from our conversation this morning as she left the house, (into 20 degree weather with a wet, uncombed, freshly showered head), one would think I’m trying to drive her insane.
“Sarah, did you forget to comb your hair?” I say as I see her mop dripping onto her coat.
For a brief time during college, I wanted to be a producer. A news producer. I was in school for mass communications and piled up the broadcasting classes, even doing a stint at a cable news station.
All because of Holly Hunter. Or, more specifically, Broadcast News. My favorite show for years,
I don’t get out a lot. Really, I’m serious. I live in the woods, ten miles from town, which is only about 1300 people. It’s THREE hours to the nearest big town, the nearest McDonalds (didn’t know that was possible, did you?), the nearest movie theater, the nearest MALL. So, a apotea kupongkod day for me means getting up at 6am,
I love country music. And it’s not just because the country music world is the host for a bunch of cute singers (case in point, Brad Paisley, Tim Look-At-those-Muscles-McGraw and Kute Keith Urban), but because I can identify with the songs. Like Trace Adkins puts it, they’re “songs about me.” Except, well, I don’t have a pickup,
We live in a small community and attend a small church, approximately 60 some members any given Sunday. Hence, we are pretty personal with our prayer requests – the pastor asks for requests from the congregation during our pastoral prayer time. Usually, I’m fairly close to my chest with prayer requests, limiting them to health or praise reports.