The Colors of the Wind

This salt is purple. Why is the salt purple?

As I headed into an appointment on a recent frosty morning, the parking lot and sidewalks were bejeweled in a lovely lavender hue.

Beets. Beets make the salt purple.

Much like the kale that is supposed to be uber healthy but I still don’t particularly love, beets are not usually on my menu.

But under my feet, they apparently are a more effective and environmentally friendly tool for snow removal than traditional rock salt. Per the linked article, “molasses, beer waste, pickle brine and cheese brine” are all being used in various locations as well. No lie, in college my class studied the possibility of converting cheese whey into a usable alternative for road deicing. We didn’t have success in coming up with an economically viable process, but look at what the kids are doing now. Granted, our goal was more about – in one academic quarter – learning R&D, scale-up, and how to make an economic case for building a manufacturing plant. Once we had a lab bench size setup built, one of my group members returned after a weekend home in Amish country with five-gallon buckets of actual, genuine cheese whey.

He transported them in his pickup truck, not a horse and buggy. He himself was not Amish. Thanks for asking.

The bleak midwinter around here is typically, well, bleak. The last time I visited Estes Park, I had a conversation with a woman who had relocated there from Ohio. We talked about the beauty of Colorado winters – so much pine green and snowy white versus Midwest brown and gray.

Behold. Midwest brown and gray in the background.

Speaking of brown …

The preacher on Sunday used the phrase “God’s prerogative” and I’ve had this song stuck in my head ever since. Anyone else? Just me? K.

Chocolate is my favorite shade of brown.

I keep finding color in unexpected places this week, though.

In disposing of some unused Christmas frosting, I found great green gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts.

What, you thought I’d go for the Rich Mullins lyric? Too easy. The Wikipedia page for Great Green Gobs is fairly amusing and worth a peek, by the way.

You wish you had the fashion sense to pull off all the colors of the wind in one ensemble.

Pro tip: To avoid having to put the dining room Christmas décor away, flip placemats over to the no-Santas-visible side and add red glitter hearts to the centerpiece.

With this year’s milder than expected (so far) winter – hey, those wooly worms were super wooly – we keep seeing birds at the feeder. Even varieties that normally migrate further south.

Photographic evidence that a blue jay was in the vicinity.

One month into 2021 still looks a lot like 2020. I’m starting to notice more color, though, and noticing more color seems like a good plan.

And the moon is a sliver of silver …

This Is How Well I’m Doing

Every time I do something clumsy …

Which happens a little too often …

Every time I forget something …

Such as shake mix in my protein shake.

Even when I accomplish far fewer tasks than are on my to do list …

I’ve been known to utter the phrase …

This is how well I’m doing.

How well are you doing in ongoing pandemic post-2020 life?

Earlier today I listened to the Things Above podcast. In this episode host James Bryan Smith interviews John Mark Comer, author of the must-read The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. I was heartened to hear John Mark laugh at himself in admitting how often he doesn’t succeed in eliminating hurry in his life. “I literally wrote the book on this!”

I’m not sure if he goes by John Mark in his daily life or John or Mark or hey you, but I’m feeling some pressure to start going by all three of my names.

Ah yes, pandemic life. Which adds a whole extra layer of extra. I think everyone is familiar with the Spring 2020 Great Hoarding of toilet paper, cleaning supplies, and groceries. You may not be as familiar with the scarcity of some home improvement items.

Accurate info on whether I can pick up my Sbux order in-store vs a half-hour drive-thru line … also in short supply. 🙂

Stuck at home? Might as well do those updates you’ve been meaning to address.

Some folks are remodeling or prepping to sell in order to create a better work- and school-from-home setup.

Eating way more meals at home? Chest freezers are reportedly in short supply.

You might remember we started a bathroom remodel back in October. The timing was driven by factors other than the pandemic, lucky us. After visiting a couple stores and doing much internet searching, we ordered a custom vanity top from the big orange box store. A sign in the store indicated a two week delivery, and the employee acknowledged times were running closer to three weeks because of COVID. So we fished the old countertop out of the construction dumpster and Macgyvered a temporary setup.

Thank goodness for the Macgyvering of the temporary setup. Thirteen weeks and a saga I’m not yet really emotionally prepared to share later … said vanity top was delivered to the house this morning. Stay tuned … as of this writing it is still in the unopened box. That thing better shine like God’s glory, just sayin’.

The other day a Mitch McVicker song came up on shuffle. The chorus in particular hit me in a way it hadn’t before.

“Cause every time arrows fill my fragile skies

Veiled behind neon flash disguises

Love will rise to my defense so I

Strap my hat on

And I lift my eyes when my King goes by

I’m gonna strap my hat on.”

(~Strap My Hat On chorus from Mitch McVicker’s Love Will Rise album.)

Hopefully I got the lyrics correct, as interweb sources were sketchy and I haven’t texted my friend to check. You can hear a live version of the song near the beginning of this video. (Also this is your reminder to back the Kickstarter for his new album, which is a little more than half funded.)

In this weird time …

When we’re mourning the death of routines …

(on top of the actual death of friends and fam) …

Of truly free speech …

Of civil public discourse …

Of so many things we perhaps took for granted …

Love will rise to my defense.

I don’t have to be doing well.

And that is how well I’m doing.

These Boots Were Made for Walking

Actually, my Nike running shoes were made for walking.

On a busy day this week during which I was struggling to fit everything in, including a heart healthy three mile walk, I finally made it out the door.

Wow.

That’s why I was trying so hard to make it out the door.

Afterward I had time to reward myself with a quick trip to Starbucks.

Goal 1 = use their wifi to download the latest giant update to Disney Emoji Blitz. Seriously, our internet speed here in the not-really-all-that-far-out-in-the-boonies is so like molasses I can get a better connection at Starbucks or sometimes even Target.

Goal 2 = Duh, coffee.

Goal 3 = A butter croissant.

Given my recent experiences seeking caffeine accompanied by the warm, comforting goodness reminiscent of a long ago trip to Paris … my hopes were high but my expectations were fairly low.

On a side note, I’ve been listening to the audiobook version of Eric Metaxas’ 7 Women and the Secret of Their Greatness. The Joan of Arc chapter was quite good, but the narrator’s (not the author) repeated mispronunciation of “dauphin” kind of crushed my soul. I was craving a Frenchie French soul cleansing, not just pastry.

But, you guys … it was a post-Epiphany miracle! 1, 2, 3 … I left Starbucks with a working game, a skinny iced latte, and warm, buttery carbs.

It was seriously like the highlight of my week.

Typically the winter weather in Ohio looks like this …

i.e. It was predicted to be mid-30s Fahrenheit but the thermometer got stuck at 26 and with zero signs of the sun’s existence.

Given the forecast looks similarly cold and dreary for days upon days after today … today’s goal is to wrap this up quickly and get out the door again.

So I can continue to enjoy the occasional treat like this pumpkin streusel coffee cake.  

So good so good so good.
Up close and personal shot.

One quick note … my friend Mitch McVicker launched a Kickstarter for his new album last night. Look here for the details and consider supporting awesome new indie music.

Until next time, keep walking.

Monoliths in the neighborhood!

Bird Doo

I kept hearing a noise in the garage.

Almost a knocking sound. That’s weird. Who knocks on an overhead door? We have people doors with doorbells and everything.

Or maybe that’s knocking on a window. I wonder if a bird is stuck in the garage. One flew in there the other day.

I ventured out. Unarmed in case you were wondering.

Aha. Mystery solved. A bird was trying to break IN through a window.

Nothing I can do about that.

What a curious looking creature, though, hanging out there on the windowsill in between break-in attempts. I wonder if a can get a picture.

I retrieved my phone and returned to the garage, approaching the window sloooowly, in stealth mode.

Ah, drat. No bird. Maybe he moved to the next window? Nope.

The bird had flown the coop, I mean the windowsill. The only photo I got was this fine shot of bird doo.

Bird doo … dooby dooby doo doo doo …

Yesterday I messaged a friend, “Hey I’m shutting down for a few to throw dinner together, but our mutual friend wanted me to harass you to get on tonight’s video call, lol.” Their response mentioned the news of the day.

I replied, “I have largely been avoiding the news of the day. Burying my head in the sand … the sand being Jesus.”

Sometimes ostrich mode is healthiest. Especially when social media is filled with little but bird doo.

I had a great day yesterday, in spite of the umpteenth day in a row of ridiculously overcast skies here in Ohio. (Take your vitamin D, kids. If not for Covid protection, for winter blahs protection.)

I watched a Hallmark movie from a few years ago starring Megan Markle.

I went for a three mile walk that took longer than usual because I stopped to chat with some of my favorite neighbors.

Somewhere over the rainbow … the angle on this shot is making me dizzy …
Rose colored glasses are a must.

I zoomed in to midweek bible study. Hit me up if you want the link to participate live or catch replays. We’re starting an overview of every book in the bible, one-ish per week, planning to finish all sixty-six books by year end. It’s just an overview, with opportunity for questions and discussion. Some people set out to the read the entire bible in a year, and if you feel stirred to do that, don’t let me stop you. I think that’s great. For a recovering perfectionist, though, having to meet the read-it-all-in-a-year goal started to become an unenjoyable chore. I figure I’m doing outstanding if I just keep reading scripture and trying to do what it’s pointing me toward. A one-hour overview per week is really doable. Who knows, it might entice me to prioritize reading a book here and there as well.

Speaking of books, I finished the audio version of Trey Gowdy’s Doesn’t Hurt to Ask: Using the Power of Questions to Communicate, Connect, and Persuade. Although it does touch on his time as a Republican U.S. congressman, the book primarily focuses on persuasion techniques and his career as a prosecutor. In this era when discernment and wisdom seem to be lacking, I cannot recommend it enough.

(Also watch The Social Dilemma on Netflix if you haven’t.)

Seriously, this morning I dipped a toe in the water by venturing onto the friendbook … annnnd … I gifted at least two dozen people with a thirty-day snooze. I doubt I’m done yet. You get a snooze … and you get a snooze … everybody gets a snooze …

The more you study the art of persuasion … the more you start to recognize when people are employing the tactics. People employ them, political parties, media companies, tech companies, fringe groups. They seek to advance an agenda, to gain power, to gain money.  

Discernment and wisdom … she is elusive these days.

If the (now snoozed) social media posts are any indicator, way too many have sprinted down the rabbit holes that have been dug for them.

Rabbit holes … bunny trails … trails of bird doo …

Jesus is Lord. Everything else is bird doo.

The proper way to write.
These were delicious.

I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Watching Me

No, not Big Brother.

Not the NSA, CIA, FBI, big tech, etc.

Not the Illuminati.

I’m not even speaking theologically about God, guardian angels, etc.

An accurate representation of my guardian angel.

If you’re singing this tune by now, though, you’re my kind of people.

My Ohio State fan cutout arrived a couple weeks ago. I expected it to be life-size, or at least life-size-ish. I didn’t expect it to be larger than life.

You guys, my head is really large. So … when we say “burritos as big as your head” (are those still available on High Street?) … what does that even mean anymore?!?

I mean, we all know I’m larger than life. Now … here’s your sign.

I’m even bigger than Santa.

It cost an extra twenty bucks to have the cutout mailed to me at the end of the season. We’ve had more than twenty bucks worth of fun with it.

“Pay no attention to that woman behind the curtain. “
I am the gift that keeps on giving.

What a long, strange year it’s been. One in which fan cutouts are now a thing.

One in which memes of our governor have abounded. Namely, those memes in which he’s lurking in the bushes to make sure no one is violating large gathering and curfew rules.

You never know, my fan cutout might start lurking in a shrubbery near you.

Happy New Year, friends. Enjoy your socially distanced and virtual celebrations. I’ve got some more quarantine, I mean holiday baking to do.

The shroud of Turin?
Scripturally accurate angels.
Work in progress. I spray painted Hershey’s kisses today.

Merry Christmas. There’s a Pandemic.

In my head I’m writing a song with that title. I envision ukulele accompaniment. (I neither own nor play ukulele.) Here’s what I’ve got so far:

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, Happy Pandemic

My head hurts, is it ‘rona

Or just my allergy to pine

I’d like to vacay in Barcelona

But I’m not getting on an airline

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, Happy Pandemic

Grab your mask and cover your nostrils

Chin strap wearers are just plain hostile

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, Happy Pandemic

I’d rather listen nonstop to Billy Ray Cyrus

Than to have to fight the coronavirus

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, Happy Pandemic

I think I’d rather fight a walrus

Than to have to fight the coronavirus

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, Happy Pandemic

Can’t wait til whoever we want can sit beside us

Two thumbs down for coronavirus

(Zero stars, would not recommend)

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, Happy Pandemic

I haven’t seen my friends in quite a while

But I hope this song goes super viral

Merry Christmas, there’s a pandemic

Merry Christmas, Happy Pandemic

Welcome to the inner workings of my brain.

Also welcome to I’m sure there’s an obvious way to group each verse/chorus/stanza thingy together, but I’m too fried and visually challenged (new contact lens prescription is not agreeing with my readers) to successfully accomplish that today.

And that’s okay.

Other than a quick break to write, I’m busy baking and cooking while it snows outside. The house smells amazing thanks to the pumpkin maple pecan granola I made this morning.

Merry Christmas to you and yours. Stay safe. Stay healthy. Keep your sense of humor and stay hopeful.

When a last minute call goes out for paper decorations for the COVID ward … you make it happen.

Looking for Christmas

I scheduled a curbside grocery pickup for first thing in the morning, assuming from the weather forecast that I’d beat the snow.

Never assume.

Although my car and I survived unscathed and only spent a few extra minutes on the road, it was a bit sketchy yesterday.

I was catching up on podcasts while driving but thought it might be wise to tune in some traffic reports. Nothing affecting my route on the AM talk radio station, so I switched to one of the FM stations playing mostly Christmas music. I survived about thirty seconds. No, I didn’t hear the shoes. Not even Faith Hill’s Where Are You Christmas, which has been added to our group count.

Seriously, you can’t find Christmas? It’s right there on the calendar, December 25. Also, just look around you.

I got your Christmas right here in this bowl of cookie dough.

I was reminded last weekend of the Latin quote (and once upon a time Ohio JCL convention theme) …

Si monumentum requiris, circumspice.

Which translates, “If you seek (his) monument, look around you.” The phrase originated (I think) as the epitaph of Sir Christopher Wren at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, of which he was architect.

Why are so many Christmas songs intolerable? Sometimes the song itself is just not good, sometimes it’s the particular recording. I’ll let you decide if this rendition of Silent Night gets a thumbs up or down.

These couple of songs were a refreshing throwback the other day.

Mitch McVicker did a Christmas themed livestream concert last night. Due to technical difficulties on my end, I need to catch it on the replay. I’m fairly certain it’ll be good.

Anyway.

What inspired the quoting of Latin epitaphs was an obnoxious commercial message on the television.

“Constipation happens. You just need to look for it.”

Ew. I don’t want to look for it.

I don’t dispute that constipation occurs in the world, but who on earth is looking for it?!?

Faith Hill can’t find Christmas, but apparently constipation is really easy to find.

Speaking of looking up, perhaps you’ve seen that the planets will be aligning to form the “Star of Bethlehem” on December 21. I don’t recall exact times (I think it’s not long after sunset) and which direction to gaze, but we should all google that on the interwebs.

Of all the things and monuments we actually ought to be looking for, the Star of Bethlehem seems a worthy candidate.

(There, Faith, it’s in the sky December 21.)

How well I’m doing example #3,423. The tape went awry and I let this sit as is for several days.
There, that’s better. (See, here is Christmas.)
Be assured, this Christmas moose will not be licking any cars.

What’s Your Story and Adventures in the Quest for Coffee

There’s a meme I’ve seen that reads something like, “That moment when you finish a book, look around, and realize that everyone is just carrying on with their lives …”

I finished the audio version of Daughter of Moloka’i by Alan Brennert earlier this week. The book is a long awaited sequel to Moloka’i, historical fiction based on a very real Hawaiian leper colony in the late nineteenth / early twentieth century. Beyond leprosy, the sequel explores the subject of Japanese internment camps during World War II. A fascinating, emotional, and educational story.

How often we don’t realize what others are experiencing. Or take the time to find out.

Their struggles.

Their feelings.

Their opinions.

Their goals and aspirations.

On a recent walk I encountered a couple neighborhood girls, in the middle of the street, drawing on the pavement with chalk.

“We’re trying to make the world’s longest line,” they told me.

“Like the Guinness Book of World Records for the longest line ever in the world?!?”

“Yes!” they answered excitedly.

“I think that’s a great goal!”

I continued walking, turning the corner to find multiple lines …

and eventually the end of the line.

I also found evidence of an alien invasion.

No word yet on the status of the world record.

Fast forward to this past weekend, when every resident in my county had the same idea – get Starbucks during halftime of the Ohio State – Michigan State football game. A game actually not cancelled because of COVID. Not wanting to miss a ton of the second half, I placed an order via the app on my way out the door. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived a minute or two past the predicted “ready” time.

As per the usual situation, the drive-through line was long, so I wound around it, found a parking space, donned my mask, and ventured inside. (You can actually select “in store” versus “drive through” with the latest app update. In store is often quicker.) I navigated to the pickup counter through a disturbingly large (during a pandemic) crowd. No sign of my order, so I navigated further to a good spot for waiting.

The baristas were all busting a move, to the point where a plastic pitcher went flying across the counter and landed a couple feet in front of me. I picked it up and returned it to the nearest employee.

Thankfully everyone I saw was wearing their mask properly. No exposed nostrils. Everyone was pleasant as well. Patrons waiting patiently. Employees working away without complaint.

So I waited.

And I waited.

I received a text letting me know of yet another COVID death in the community, a particularly hard-hitting one that had occurred less than an hour prior.

I continued to wait for my coffee, surrounded by people who had no idea how much I really, really, really just wanted to drink my beverage, be sad about COVID, and watch the rest of the Ohio State game.

I looked for an opportunity to get a barista’s attention to inquire about my order. It was too crowded and too busy, though.

After twenty-five minutes, I left without coffee. I fixed my own at home and emailed customer service about a refund.

Sunday I thought, “Well. Maybe I’ll try again. Maybe a different store, though. I’ll go for a longer drive since I’m trying to finish that audiobook anyway.”

Throughout the pandemic, the Starbucks app has been pretty good about keeping hours up to date, as locations have had to modify when they’re open. The location I was considering was open for another three hours. Based on the previous day’s experience, I waited until I was in the area to submit my order, though. Noting the drive through lit up with a few cars in it, I ordered via the app – safely from a parking space – and then pulled into line. At the kiosk, a barista told me they were closed, they close at 6pm on Sundays.

It had just turned 6pm.

I had already been charged for an order on the app predicted to be ready at 6:06pm.

No one would talk to me further about a refund. I handled that via email with corporate customer service again.

And enjoyed more of my leprosy/internment/man’s inhumanity to man audiobook while experiencing delayed caffeination.

And fixed my own coffee at home.

And took it as a sign to continue fixing my own coffee at home for a while.

It definitely was not a sign to stop drinking coffee. 😊

I wonder if someone had to make a difficult decision between toilet paper and these items. And what the story is behind all that.

I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up

I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

Not really, but the onset of cold, snowy weather has me feeling that way.

Oh snowy magnolia, magnolia …

Cold, snowy weather in the midst of a pandemic election year.

Anyone else ready to hibernate?

I have no idea what the official totals were, but five or six inches of wet, heavy snow fell here Monday and Tuesday.

The kind of snow that weighs down trees and bushes.

If you’re going to spend Cyber Monday cybershopping, you might as well have a pretty view through the window.

The kind of snow that adds an extra barrier layer to squirrels trying to raid the birdfeeder. (P.S. For added fun, listen to this song while contemplating cold birds.)

Only a couple more layers of protection & it’ll be like the Pentagon.
A prettier, zoomed in version.

The kind of snow that clogs up the brush part of the scraper as you’re trying to clear enough off your car to drive safely.

Ha! No pictures. I darn near had frostbite on my hands.

The kind of snow that sticks to the top of your SUV until you’re accelerating to seventy miles an hour … and then slides off in one giant delightful wallop to the tailgating car behind you.

Advent started this week. I’ve read through an advent devotional the last few years. This year I’m celebrating by not celebrating. As in not feeling obligated to keep up with anything in particular.

Well, other than checking off my beloved Hallmark movies in the app as I get them watched.

I think I’ve mentioned Celebrating The 12 Days of Christmas: A Guide for Churches and Families by Chris Marchand before. It’s my goal to locate my copy and reopen it before Christmas. The book does a thorough review of Christmas / twelve days / Epiphany traditions throughout history with suggestions for modern day applications. It also goes through Advent traditions, and I recall there being a couple of interest.

But meh, 2020. Que sera, sera. Whatever will get done, will get done.

I shared a link on the social media the other day to this mashup of Carol of the Bells and the Imperial March from Star Wars. The vibe captures my feelings in December 2020.

I’m currently auditioning candidates for Christmas dance party remixes to lift my mood. YouTube is failing big time at the moment. There is about zero chance of me having time to do this, but I might have to make my own. There are so many annoying songs out there that need to be nixed for Xmas.

Nixed for Xmas! That’s it! That’ll be the title of the first movie I’ll produce for Hallmark. That could happen, right?

It’s not like I’m doing nothing Christmasy this year. I’m just pacing myself and shifting my focus a bit in spreading Christmas cheer.

By the way, I googled Christmasy vs Christmassy. There’s not much info out there, but maybe Christmassy is the preferred British spelling? No idea. It’s just that it looks assy to me.

That’s all for now. Go rent – or buy, digital only for now – God’s Fool on Amazon Prime and make our distributor happy. (Also the film is pretty great.) Honest reviews are always appreciated as well.

Enjoy this image of homemade pie … since the real pie is long gone. 🙂

Raw Carrots (At Least It Wasn’t the Turkey)

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I wasn’t going to write anything today. Maybe just send out a short email with links to cool things to read/listen to.

I was just gonna mail it in, so to speak. (A phrase that has taken on additional meaning in 2020.)

And then a funny thing happened.

While transferring the Thanksgiving meal from takeout containers to dishes suitable for reheating …

I got to the carrots …

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Which we thought we’d microwave …

“Uhhhhhh … I’m not sure these are cooked. Here, try this.”

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Definitely not cooked.

“You ordered cooked carrots, right? Do they even sell raw carrots? Huh. That’s hilarious.”

I don’t want to disparage any establishments we like and have patronized for many years and were founded right here in the great state of Ohio, but …

Let’s just say the name rhymes with Gob Heavens.

Gobble gobble.

We’re cooking the carrots on the stove (starting a few minutes earlier than planned). We know how to do that. We have skills. I’m thankful for that.

I’m thankful to have carrots in the first place  … and a whole feast to go with them.

I’m thankful for rock ‘n’ roll music, including this stunning Kevin Max remake of Larry Norman’s classic Christian rock album Visiting This Planet. (Cleverly named Revisiting This Planet.) Click on the link to choose your favorite way to stream/download.

I’m thankful for The Ohio State University. Here’s a fun Party In a Box you can order to increase your football watching fun.

I’m thankful for this new eight-day devotional celebrating the twenty-five year anniversary of dc Talk’s Jesus Freak album. My friend PC Walker wrote several of the days.

I’m thankful for all of you reading this.

Until next time …

Happy Thanksgiving.

(P.S. Check your Amazon November 30 for the God’s Fool movie. Still available at RagamuffinRentals and to RagamuffinTV subscribers. 😊)

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That moment when … you find a long lost treat while unpacking Christmas decor … and it expired only a few days ago!
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