The Clock is Ticking

Okay, there's probably some rule that says I should focus completely on the Defensive Driving site whilst getting my ticket cleared, but...whatever.

Important rules for life (oh, and driving):

1. Good driving is no accident.

2. Expressway driving has fules that must be followed.

3. Don't stop on the ramp--you could be rear-ended.

4. Choose the appropriate lane.

5. Cooperate with other drivers.

6. Carry bottled water and snacks with you. They'll keep your strength and spirits up.

7. Remember, only YOU can control your reactions to situations.

8. Use caution in work zones.

9. Never overdrive your headlights---don't drive so fast that you can't stop in the space lit by your headlights.

10. Pay attention to your physical condition, and pull over when tired.

11. It's sure to irritate a pedestrian if you almost hit him.

Okay, that's all I've got for the first 4 lessons (of 10). More later, I want to watch the Pope Joan thing on Primetime.

I couldn't sleep this morning. Woke up about 3 and pretended to be asleep so the Wonder Dog would actually stay asleep. Migrated to the couch about 4:30.

Wound up watching "Hysteria: The Def Leppard Story." Honestly, I really like Def Leppard, but I've never seen this biopic. Interesting story.

One question...

The actors playing the band--how come only the real Joe Elliot and Rick Allen look better than their counterparts in the movie? Why would you choose actors for the other guys who are the more attractive versions?

It's just before 7 on Christmas Morning. I've walked the dog and settled on the couch to watch William Vanderbloemen's sermon from last Sunday (the air a week behind, which is fine). Three things have already struck me this morning and made me think (something I don't tend to do a lot of before 8 a.m.)

First, as the Wonder Dog and I walked around the complex this morning, we were both awed by the silence. He even stood still for several minutes, just enjoying the quiet. We walked a bit more, and saw a huge flock of birds coming out of the trees behind the property. He put his paws on my knee (the sign that he wants to be held). I picked him up and we watched the birds flying off together. I was struck by the silence. That made Christmas morning for me. Just made it.

Then, on the couch watching William's sermon from last week, the 4th Sunday of Advent. It's seems that Sunday is always full of sermons about Mary's visit from the angel, telling her that she was carrying God's Son. William discussed the description of Mary's mental/emotional state upon that pronouncement--she was "troubled." The ultimate conclusion was that we, today, should be "troubled" about Christmas. Not the rush we all seem to be in this time of year. Not what we go through in shopping for that one difficult person. Not the stress of preparing that perfect holiday meal. No, we should be troubled by the miracle of the virgin birth and God coming to live among us, fully human, fully God. We should be troubled by what it means to us, what it meant to the world. And, once we are troubled by Christmas, all other "troubles" of our life will disappear.

The last thing I was struck by, is far more mundane than the other two. Just after the Presbyterian service is broadcast, "Changing Your World with Dr. Creflo A. Dollar" comes on. I don't usually watch this, because I don't care for his preaching style. But, this morning, I thought I'd watch it, if only because it's Christmas morning. I got oh, 4 or 5 sentences into it when he said something that I didn't find appealing. He, too, was talking of the visit from the Angel to Mary. It was the way he described it--"The Angel came to tell her that she was pregnant, and the child had been conceived not with the sperm of a human man...." I'm sorry. I don't think that something so wonderful and miraculous as virgin birth should be described so basely. It, I don't know, impedes the miracle, to me. Kinda like when the Discovery Channel airs a show on the science behind the parting of the Red Sea, or the 40 Days Flood. Some things should just be accepted as read. Now, I know that many people need more than just "blind faith," but goodness...talking about sperm and Mary in the same sentence?

Since I finally got it, I thought I'd share one of my favorite family recipes. Some say it's a variation of a chess pie, but I'm here to tell you that it isn't. This is definitely a different animal.

Buttermilk Pie

1/2 c butter (real butter, not margarine. Really, it makes a difference.)
2 c sugar
2 tsp vanilla (the real stuff is best, but the imitation will work)
3 eggs
3 tbsp flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 c buttermilk

1 9-inch pie crust (deep dish)

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.

Cream butter and sugar. Add 1/2 cup sugar at a time as you do this.

Blend in vanilla. Add eggs, 1 at a time.

Combine flour and salt, add this to the mixture a small amount a time, mixing well.

Add buttermilk, mix.

Pour into pie crust

Bake at 300 for 90 minutes. Let stand until cool. Best served at room temperature or slightly chilled.

For a variation, put 1/2 c chopped pecans in the pie crust and pour the mix on top.

Note: This makes lots more mix than you'll need for a "regular" pie crust/plate. Not enough for a second pie, but this does well baked in custard cups, too.

Enjoy. And Merry Christmas.

~~Jayne.

This is why we close the dishwasher when we're done loading the dinner dishes.

So, it's 6:40 on the morning of Christmas Adam. Once again, The Wonder Dog has opted to make an early run outside and then go back to bed.

Do you know what my Christmas dream is this year? A backyard and a doggie door.

No, really, I have the same wish I do every year--that more and more the miracle of Christmas will involve far more than Santa making it around the earth in a night and people getting extra days off from work.

Stand-off. Me vs. a bottle of Equate Ny-Quil. (sp?)

I know I need to take it. I've had this horrible, painful, completely unattractive virus thing in my ears all week that has down-graded to a common, everyday cold. The only thing that's helped me all week is regular doses of Extra Strength Tylenol. I haven't slept more than 3 hours any night since Saturday. It's driving me crazy.

So, tonight, I decided to go ahead and take some Ny-Quil to help me get more sleep. Thing is, I hate Ny-Quil. I hate the alleged cherry flavor (I don't like cherries, but, guys, this ain't cherry flavor). I hate the consistency--it's like swallowing Palmolive. The flavor--did I mention I don't like the cherry flavor? Well, whatever that green crap is supposed to be is even worse (licorice? medicine? toxic waste?).

So, I'm sitting here, debating the best way to get this nasty crap down my throat. I know this is silly and immature and I should just take it "like a big girl." You have to understand, though, this is the only substance on Earth that makes me want to retch every single time it goes down my throat. Not a few times it has succeeded in its attempts and left me feeling worse than when I started down that road.

I'm thinking that the best option for me is to take alternating swallows of the fake cherry goo and milk. I'll let you know how it goes.

Librarians are the secret masters of the world. They control information. Don't ever piss one off.

~~Spider Robinson

I usually have no freakin' clue what I want for Christmas. And people are getting real sick and tired of me saying "I want you to get me whatever you want me to have." Why does this piss people off? Is it because they know I'm going to open the box and think "THIS is what he wanted me to have? What have I done to him this year?"

Anyway, if you're looking for a few ideas...here you go.

Librarian items at CafePress

Darn near anything in this collection will do.

In the event that nothing there speaks to you, I've been eyeing a fondue thingy at Dillard's.

Merry Merry.

In San Antonio this fine, nearly gone, morning. Came to visit a friend last night.

Okay, he's an ex-boyfriend. In fact, he's visited this blog before, in the early days. M returns.

I didn't realize that I missed him until he opened the door last night. I mean, yeah, I miss his company and our conversations. I didn't realize I just miss being around him. Nothing romantic or prurient, just around him.

Damn. I don't like being reminded that I feel for someone.




P.S. The title of today's post has not a blooming thing to do with anything else. I had Johnny Cash playing in the truck last night on the way up.

I wear a band on the third finger of my left hand. Yes, that's the "wedding ring" finger, traditionally. No, I am not married, or even engaged (in case some of you are joining our story a bit late).

It isn't fancy--a wide sterling silver band, with doves and flowers embossed on it. The dove has what could be construed as an olive branch in its mouth.

I've worn it there for months, now.

Today, I was asked why I wear a ring there, since I'm not married. I've not been asked it before, but, knowing that I would, I had an answer prepared.

The doves represent hope and peace, the flowers are hope and renewal. The ring symbolizes important parts of my faith--my Christian faith. I wear it to remind myself that there are more important things than being married or remaining single.

I started wearing it the last time I got really down about being without a partner. I vacillate on this one. Sometimes, it doesn't bother me at all, other times I'm really, really bothered about it. Wearing this ring is a token to help me remember that it's okay to be single.

Doesn't mean I wouldn't like someone to replace this ring for me one day. *grin*

I've been looking for an alternative to the traditional jello mold we see during the holiday season. Here it is. Guess I'll do Houston, though. Maybe just my small home town.

http://www.lizhickok.com/assets/portfolio/pages/06telegraph.html

Wonder how many weird looks the family will give me this year?

take the WHAT BAD BOOK ARE YOU test.


and go to mewing.net. not as good as reading a good book, but way better than a bad one.

I've never watched the Regis and Kelly show. This morning, they're taste-testing some crazy, crazy ice cream concoctions from Country Cow Creamery. They've tried beer, creamed corn, green beans, and turkey and gravy flavors. Some things shouldn't be ice cream flavors.

Kelly is being a total child "I don't wanna try it! You can't make me!" Then she does it anyway because Gelman told her to.

I hate women like that. Either do what your told, or don't. But don't be a whiny child. There's no point and you make the rest of us look bad.

And she's skinny, too. Damn her.

It's before 7 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. A Tuesday morning that I'm off. I wanted to sleep late, but The Wonder Dog didn't get the memo. Actually, I believe the problem is that he ate the memo before reading it. Now he's all curled up next to me, sleeping. Damn.

Last night, I fell asleep on the couch watching "The Dukes of Hazzard." I've always loved that show. So, this morning, when I rolled over (still on the couch), I turned on the TV to find that I was still on CMT (seems like I remember changing the channel to the X-Files rerun, but maybe not.). So, for the last hour, I've been watching country music videos.

A few thoughts on that...

Song's called "Why." I'll look up the artist later. Anyway, the guy's HOT. But he's got this weird idea that he must wear a black cowboy hat. There's really only so many people that can pull off a black cowboy hat. He's not one of them. I realize that there is a standard formula for male country artists, but that formula kinda quit working so well when they started piercing their ears--like this guy, who's name I promise I will look up. Artist's name is Jason Aldean. His "big smash hit" so far is "Hicktown"--a rockin' good song.

Billy Joe Shaver "Live Forever." Okay, LOVE Billy Joe Shaver. It just seems really, really odd that he's doing a music video though. Not what I'd expect, but no one asked me. Great song, too.

Reba McEntire "You're Gonna Be" (Okay, I'm not sure it's in Reba's contracts to use slang pronunciation and spellings, but that's how she sang it.). Beautiful song, but so many of hers are. My only complaint is that they constantly film her with lighting that makes her look ghostly. Ick.

Trace Adkins "Honky Tonk, Badonkadonk." WTF??? This is a cowboy's version of "I Like Big Butts." I kid you not. Some of the best lines: "How she even get those britches on" "That's why we do it, boys...it ain't for the free whiskey...it's for the badonkadonk." WTF?

Montgomery Gentry "She Don't Tell Me To." Dude's so involved in this song that he 's about ready to cry. That' would be the one who's always wearing duster. Today, he's all in black with some silver accents on his jeans, a hat that looks like something Zorro would wear, and red ropers. What?

JoDee Messina "Delicious Surprise (I Believe It)" This chick rocks. She is just so much fun and takes absolutely no crap off nobody. She also gives the impression that she's really internalized every word she's singing. Awesome. I'm gonna have to get this CD.

Faith Hill "Like We Never Loved at All." Sad, sad, song. "Story line" in the video is set in the 70s, and ol' Tim helps her out with this one. She looks great with the big, big hair, thought the bright yellow dress could've been left on the rack. He looks stupid in the golf cap thing he's got on in the beginning of the video.

Terri Clark "I Just Wanna Be Mad." She's obviously a farm-girl, tomboy. I love it. The song's great, too. They've had a fight, she assures him that she loves him, but right now, she just wants to be mad. I'll never understand why so many men don't get this concept. Trust me, gentlemen (and I use that term loosely), you guys are every bit as moody and stubborn as we can be.

Brooks & Dunn "Believe." I just heard this song for the first time yesterday, even though it's been on the radio for awhile. This one made me cry. I've always thought Kix Brooks has a great voice, and I tell you what, he could pull off some serious gospel in my opinion, after listening to this song.

Okay...that's it for my way too freakin' early music report. Have fun, kids.

Somebody please tell me this isn't as sad as it sounds.

I live in a one-bedroom apartment with 4 closets. Today, I started rearranging furniture after picking up a bookcase from R. (Wait, this isn't the sad part.)

What does one inevitably do when moving furniture around? Vacuum before placing things, right?

I had to look in 3 closets before finding the vacuum cleaner.

So, I signed up to do the NaNoWriMo program, right?

I wrote about 8,000 words and stopped. Stuck. Damn it.

I've been doing everything except write in the last few weeks. Hell, I haven't even written here in a week and a half.

I've written 3 letters to my grandfather. I mailed one.

I've watched incredibly bad daytime and night time television. The weekend fare has been pretty sad, too.

I've been litter training The Wonder Dog. I came across an 8-FOOT LONG COPPERHEAD NEAR MY PARKING SPOT AT HOME and have discontinued all walks that take place in the dark. Okay, so it was only 8 or 10 inches long, but I hate snakes. The litter training isn't going so well. But, we have had the break through of going potty near the tray today, instead of in another room.

I've been to the doctor 3 times--and was told last week that I have asthma. I've probably had it for my whole life, it was just never diagnosed. Crazy.

I've crocheted 2 afghans and a handful of hats. Even a camouflage one for a friend's little girl.

But, writing? Not a word.

I've seen some strange things in my 29 years. But, I've always been able to turn to a few things I'm interested in and find precisely what I expect.

I crochet, and I'm learning how to knit. My grandmothers both taught me how to crochet, and I'm learning how to knit now as an homage to the grandmother who passed away 18 months ago.

There's an abundance of crochet sites and list servs out there. There's always motherly/grandmotherly types, and people my age (and younger) who's grandmothers taught them how to crochet and they just enjoy it now. You can peruse any one of those sites and find patterns, recipes, project ideas, etc. All are innocuous. All.

Until the group I found today. Oh my.

Kinky Crochet

I kid you not. There's a recent poll asking members which of a list of things they'd like to see patterns for. Included are pillows with "toy pockets" and whips.

I did not join this group. There's just something wrong with a hobby associated with grannies and a request like that. I mean, I applaud them for bringing crochet into the 21st century, for finding new ways to incorporate it into people's lives, and for broadening the scope of the craft (ahem).

All I can think of is my grandmother happening across this site, thinking it's harmless (and it is, but you know what I mean). Yuck.

Your Birthdate: October 9

You are a born idealist, with more pet causes than you can count. You prefer be around others, both when working and while relaxing. Generous and giving, you believe you can change the world one person at a time. You're open minded and tolerant. People feel like they can tell you anything. Your strength: Your go-with-the-flow flexibility Your weakness: Your flair for the over dramatic Your power color: Pine green Your power symbol: Circle Your power month: September

Okay, so, I've decided to challenge myself. I've entered the National Novel Writing Month event.

Do me a favor...keep on me about this. Somehow, deadlines only do so much for encouraging me to do something.