Jude Stringfellow's Blog, page 114

I'm the Only Me I Could Ever Be - I am ENTJ.

 

You've all met them (us). You know we're out there. Though the Myer Briggs Personality traits offer 16 different types of people, those of us who are forever deemed to be ENTJ make up only 4% of the entire population.   ENTJs make up ONLY 4% of the entire population, but get this, female (me) ENTJs only make up 1.7% of the same worldwide population. Male ENTJ outnumber the female by a ratio of 3:1 making the female ENTJ the rarest of the 16 types; so of course, I am one of them. I have to be unique. One does not simply choose one's personality traits nor does one choose which Myer Briggs personality one will be saddled with.  This being said, I am absolutely satisfied and content being an ENTJ and welcome every bit of criticism anyone and everyone can bring to me due to this fact. (You can't see me smiling right now, but that's what I do when someone inadvertently tells me I need to stop this or that behavior, or that I need to be more like so-and-so. I am NOT so-and-so. I am me! I am Jude. I am the ONLY person God Himself determined to make when He made me. God doesn't make mistakes.

 

I don't know when the Myer Briggs test was created or even why really, but I do remember the day I had to take the test to find out exactly who I was and why I was behaving the way I was behaving. Apparently, my behavior was upsetting my divorce judge to the point that every time she tried to sanction me, I would correct her either with the actual law(s) or what I logically perceived the law(s) to be. She had basically had about enough of me when she nearly held me in contempt for speaking out of line. I remember her saying "Are you an attorney? Are you a judge? Do you know the law?" My answer was swift, hard-hitting, and deadly accurate, I forcefully pointed my index finger at her and retorted "NO, but you are the judge and SHOULD know it. I shouldn't have to tell you what it says!"  (By the grace of God, I was not thrown in jail.) With that she ordered me (and my ex-husband for that matter) to take the Myer Briggs test before she would precede with the hearing.  

Eleven days had to pass before I was scheduled to take the over four-hour test. I remember there were more than 500 questions asking the same type of questions over and over in different ways to see how you would answer and it really pissed me off. I remember thinking that I had already answered these same questions and once should be enough! This too, is part of the personality trait of the Commander, the ENTJ. It brings to mind the saying "Dammit, I told you I loved you once, and if that changes, I'll let you know!"  I remember another issue I had with the test being so long and drawn out; I remember thinking I could have created a more effective and efficient test. This too, is a trait of the ENTJ. A trait I apparently have - in spades. 

So, what then do we know about the traits of our own personality? We know enough to answer questions which will lead the "experts" to tell us precisely which personality we are. Being born a Scorpio in the Year of the Ox doesn't make me an ENTJ, but there has to be a bit of an influence in there somewhere because as a Scorpio woman who tends to be earthy, stubborn, and traditional, I find that commanding those around me, those in need of assistance and mostly those who seem lost, just comes natural to me. I have always been a leader and I have always been outspoken. I am not going to shy away, back down, give up, or quit because frankly, I don't think I should and I never truly put much stock in those who do. I am beyond stubborn at times, in fact it's senseless to argue with me because I won't allow myself to be wrong and therefore any attempt to prove I am mistaken could be devastating to the person trying. I can concede that I may have come to the wrong conclusion, but it was probably brought on by false intel due to the fact that I just couldn't possibly be mistaken. (Are you beginning to understand now?) 

Being an ENTJ has opened so many doors for me; by that I mean I am not afraid of opening locked doors.  I will step up and take charge if needed and I will follow anyone who knows where they are going, but the instant they show fear or doubt I am likely to ask them to step aside until such time they can either regain their confidence or become a good follower. I won't be misled because it leads to trouble I can't afford.  I am (because I am an ENTJ) quick to make decisions and loyal to the bone. I won't have an enemy because they are needless, I either slaughter them or walk away from them, not keeping them around to be a problem. I defend to the end and I sacrifice everything for others because that's what a good leader does. We don't lead ourselves! We lead OTHERS! We lift up others. We push others. We create good for others. Doing so for ourselves is a given, it's service to others that make us get out of bed each day.  

Are there good points to being an ENTJ? Sure!  We are HIGHLY creative and organized. We take care of business like no other. We train better than most, and can see far enough into the future through using logical predictions to know what to plan, how to plan, why we plan, and then we decide on a plan just before we implement said plan. There will be a plan. There is always a plan.  We also count our blessings. We are the one trait that realizes loss is inevitable and we will suffer it. We try to limit said loss, but we are quick to evaluate and restore ourselves after a great defeat.  

WHAT made me want to share this information about myself? Because there are those who see us (ENTJ) as people who can change and we cannot. We are mostly immovable, but that's a good thing. This means we will be quite predictable in our behavior.  You'll never have to wonder where you stand because we will flat out tell you. We will be sure you understand where you stand at all times. Devotion, love, protection, and loyalty are our gifts to everyone else. We may not be all that romantic, but we are certainly dedicated and forthcoming. You want to do something, get something done, be at the top of YOUR game? Find an ENTJ to help you.  

Now, how may I serve you today? 

 

Queen of Dorkville!

Yes, it is true, I am the ultimate ruler of the village and/or township of Dork.  I live there now; I have lived there all of my life. Please, no, don't let the education section of my resume intimidate you. I do have a master brain and I do know how to use it, but there are times when even the fleshy tenant of my own skull will fail me and fail me in such a way that I have only one response which is to say “Oof”.  

Many are the tales I could tell you about my dorkness and you would have to agree that I am Queen. Few are those who can compete with my ineptness with technology. I literally had to give birth to three separate people so that I could maintain a semblance of intelligence when it comes to modern usage of anything other than a portable transistor radio. I can handle turning one or two knobs to tune in a frequency but please don’t ask me how the music actually gets inside the damn thing, or why I hear it when it finally comes out of the box. I just know that the switch on the side should be pushed upward and the little knobs turned until I do actually hear what I think sounds like music. Fearful that I may lose that sound I don’t really change the channels once I have found something relatively tolerable. I’m just not good with tech.  

Today’s example of serene idiocy is me trying to download an LP from the internet onto my iPhone and expecting to hear it like a normal human being.  First, if you read the sentence correctly you would see that I mentioned downloading. Downloading takes a bit of skill, one does not simply download an LP from the internet. One must first pay for said LP through PayPal which is again, another potential mishap for those of us who are … “challenged”.  Manage I did.  I found my way through PayPal, successfully remembered my password, and paid the $11.99 (USD) for the LP titled “Deliverance” from Celtic artist, singer and songwriter Steph Macleod. I’ve blogged about him; you can see for yourself WHY it is that I wanted to download this particular LP. It’s so deeply moving; I could even use words such as “raw” and “soulful” to describe it.  So, because I loved it, I was downloading it. That’s what brought me to this blog post.  I can’t find the damn thing.  I did manage, actually manage, to download it (the site said I did it successfully) but I can’t find it on my phone. 

Looking. Looking. I even called in the Cavalry, and by that, I mean my son Reuben who just happens to literally be in the U.S. Army Oklahoma National Guard’s Cavalry.  He’s a whiz with tech. He even fixes iPhones and all things Apple. He looked at me and said these words (words that scald by the way) “MOM!” (he said with a strange look) “You’re the only person I know who can download something and send it to the cloud where it can’t be found because you didn’t upload the right cloud manager. I don’t know if you’ll ever find it, but you might try this....” and he did something to my phone but it didn’t work.  Handing me back my phone he promised to look into the matter, but then life took over and it didn’t happen. I did the next best thing; I asked my daughter Laura for help. She’s techy. She programmed my computer and my new laptop. She can do this; she can find my LP...maybe. 

Well ding and dang it, she couldn’t do anything more for me than my son did. We went online using my desktop, we searched the files for my phone through there, we searched the files on my phone through the phone itself, we looked up “HOW TO FIND THE CD YOU DOWNLOADED” on Google, but it appears I’m just going to have to deal with the fact that I should have bought the CD in its physical form to begin with but Steph mentioned on his Instagram that all copies of his LPs were sold out and he wouldn’t have more until the “World opened up” and he could get back to work. DANG IT!!  OK...I’m not the sharpest tack in the box, but I do know this much, I can at least go onto Steph’s site (www.stephmacleod.com) and scroll down to the MUSIC section and pull up the LPs and listen to the songs one at a time....so I do....one at a time. Not the best way to enjoy your music, but it’s going to have to work until I can get the physical CD in my hand and download it to my computer and maybe from there, I can have another kid download it onto my phone. Caity should be able to do that. She’s a gamer. She can figure that out for me. At least my kids know I need them.  

I wrote to Steph to see if maybe he’s run across this problem in the past with people downloading from his site. We’ll see. If nothing else I can be the dork I am and rule from the highest throne in the land! I am JUDE, QUEEN of the Dorks and no one can take that from me.   Long live the Queen!

I Miss My Babies.

 For years I've called myself a teacher. The truth is, I've been a professor of English and Ethics as well as a high school and middle school English teacher. If I'm asked I typically say I'm an Educator so I don't have to go back and forth about the choices I've made to teach both secondary and post secondary students. I live in Oklahoma and our state hasn't been exactly forth coming in hiring enough minorities or people with "global" backgrounds.  I've been replaced more times at the end of a semester by someone who was another color, sex, creed, religion, and/or from another culture. I literally walked my happy butt down to a Historical Black College once and demanded that they hire me since I was white because I was constantly being replaced by people of color who often times didn't even have their education finished, but by golly they were another color than white so I was booted and they were hired. To their credit the HBC did actually hire me for one semester! I wish it would have been more. It wasn't.

After teaching college students and going back to secondary schools to teach, I had the opportunity in 2019 to teach 6th grade English at a rather large small town school.  The district is known for being a bit rural and just enough urban to warrant government funding for many of their programs.  The school district has a pragmatic reputation, a good athletics program, and of course it has many separate schools for all of the various grades. What set this particular school apart from nearly every other elementary school that I've ever heard of, is that all of the 6th graders from the entire district, no matter where they lived, went to this school! I think 80% of the 5th graders did as well, but 100% of every one of the 6th grade students went to this school. I was one of two Reading teachers for the school; Team Stringfellow!

I was hired in August of 2019 for a 1/2 year contract which sucks, but there is nothing I could do about it. Every teacher who hasn't been there for four straight semesters is placed on a four semester contract and each semester is on a trial or probationary basis. This is no way to run a state education program, but no one ever accused the state of Oklahoma of having a good grip on how to run their educational programs in the past.  I started August 5 I think, and by December 2 of the same year the school had decided NOT to bring me back after the Christmas break. I was supposed to stay through December 20, but my union representative thought it would be wise to leave and force the hand of the district to pay me for the remaining part of the contract as well as the next semester based on a few inappropriate moves on their part -- OK, I agreed, but you know that really sucked because I didn't get the chance to hang with my students for the Christmas holiday. I really really miss those brats.

Most of my 125 students could be categorized as angels, even Eli, my little imp. There wasn't a day that went by that at least 30 of these smaller and often annoying creatures wouldn't turn my world upside down with their wit, charm, sweetness, curiosity or bravado.  I could count on kids standing on chairs and acting like pyrates. I could expect hair pulling, teasing, pushing, grabbing, rolling on the floor, and even the occasional well hand shake with wet paper involved. For some reason they think I don't know it's going to happen. They think I fall for it every time. I think they like that I pretend I don't know.  

My classroom has rules and I ran it with a gentle fist. You walk in, you sit down, you pull out the notebook, you write the bell work in said notebook and you start on the assignment. If you're quiet you can work with a partner, if you can't be quiet I pick your partner for you! They're usually pretty quiet because they know I tend to pick people who don't like each other to team up for the hour.  After the bell work I go over the hour's agenda, the Oklahoma Academic Standard, and how we're going to attempt to achieve that standard.  I write everything out on the white board, and take a picture of it so I can prove to my administrators, the parents, the kids, and anyone else who may ask what was on the board and what was expected on any particular day. I have thousands of pictures of white boards saved on a flash drive representing hours and hours and years upon years of lessons. I've been challenged but never beaten back. You take the photo, someone accuses, you pull out the phone and show them, they back off rather quickly. YES, your kid KNEW it was on the board!

I didn't get to say good bye. Rumors flooded the school. A few kids were smart enough to know that nothing really bad had happened, but there were those who assumed the worst. I wasn't really allowed to call any of them, that would not be appropriate, but I did have most of their parents and guardians on my phone and they all received a general alert from me about the situation. Many of them cried with me and sent me Christmas messages of love and appreciation. I just really missed seeing the faces of the loving and kind kids who wanted to learn a little differently - - with me you'll learn differently --  no option there.

I was teaching Bloom's Taxonomy when I was asked to leave. I can't tell you how many questions that cropped up about it, and how many excited tongues were wagging in the halls that Team STRINGFELLOW was learning Bloom's but the other team wasn't. Was I hearing that correctly? Did I hear kids BRAGGING about learning? I did. I cried. I just went home and bawled like a baby over it. I couldn't wait to get back into the classroom and follow up with applications, models, presentations, and even essay work. It wasn't to be. I was released. I couldn't even go back into my own classroom to get my things. I could take my personal items only. I was called back on a weekend to take my things home; and let me tell you, that hurt. That really hurt. 

I did manage to get a note to a teacher who came into my homeroom and read the note to the students. I wanted to at least tell those 33 that I loved each and every one of them, and I wanted them to tell the rest of our team the same. I wanted them to behave, listen to the new teacher, keep reaching out for help, continue to work well with others and by all things holy not to bully anyone for any reason! We don't do that on Team Stringfellow.  It was really hard for me to drive away that Saturday knowing I would never see the inside of my classroom again, or the smiles on the faces of the "babies" I loved so much. In just a few years they'll graduate, go to college, get married, get jobs, and move away. They'll always be my last class; I probably won't go back into the classroom with all the politics involved. I just wanted to teach and they just wanted to be taught. Is it really so much to ask?

Fitbit Versa 2 + Me.

 If you know me, and by now you should know a little bit about me, you'd know that I suck at all things electronic. I don't mind saying it. I don't mind admitting defeat even before opening the box, it's an inevitable truth that just is and there's no use fighting it. Hello, my name is Jude, and I am electronically challenged. 

So, if I know me and I know I suck, why did I buy myself the Fitbit Versa 2? Simple answer? I need help. Long answer? Best Buy was out of the Versa 1 and this one was pink, so there you go - - but I really do need help. I'm on this last stand of mine where I'm not about to lose another weight battle. I will win it and with the help of my new friend Alexa, the demon that apparently lives inside the Versa 2, I will be svelte and gorgeous in just under 6 months. (At least that is what the beast is telling me.) Believe me when I say I am NOT a fan of Alexa or anything like her. I have enough fears and wondering having to deal with the fact that my iPhone will send me recommendations for saddle soap, dog treats, and/or anything else I've been looking at or thinking about recently. I don't want Alexa waking me up in the middle  of the night to suggest a new REM session so I can get a deeper more satisfying sleep. I will however, possibly, (no promises) ask her to interrupt my dreams just to see if she's any better at it than I am myself.

Apparently, the Versa 2 has a 1000 new features and it's easy to use. The word "easy" is relative of course, and should be prefaced with the disclaimer "for anyone who may be able to actually understand charging, pairing, registering, and conducting what most people consider blase average set up routines. Me? I get frustrated and and tend to throw things across the room if I can't get one or all of my kids to do the set up for me. Tonight's challenge will be to get Laura off her VR headset long enough to hook my new Versa 2 up to our WiFi. The connection seems to be giving me problems already and I haven't really started! I've made the conscious decision to put the Versa 2 back on the charging cradle so I can at least get that much done while Laura winds down to a point where she can leave her fantasy world without dropping her friends off cliffs - - her words.

I have a steps counter on my phone of course, but I can't always have the phone on me. I stand up more than 6 hours a day now at work and want to be able to count calories being burned and any other goals Versa 2 may be able to assist me with. I've been shamed and embarrassed by answering her questions honestly about my height, age, weight, sex, and goals.  I should let her know I prefer dark chocolate over milk chocolate seeing how she's asking personal questions even before I've touched  her! C'mon Versa 2 - - I realize it's 2020, but I'm the old fashioned type. Talk to me first! (I say that, and just as soon as I type it into this blog you know Alexa is somehow connected and she'll start TALKING TO ME!) DEMON!!

I'll be OK. With Versa 2 I think I have apps at my disposal, and I may even be able to call for help if I pass out from over kill and exhaustion. I know me, I do tend to go one step further than I should, so it may be a good thing that Alexa is hanging out with me. At least she's pretty in her pink band and black face - - She may even be Rose Gold; now that I look at her really closely. Hello pretty girl - - let's do this. Let's make all of my new dreams come true. I'll let her keep track of habits, my work outs, my sleep, my interests and etc. Maybe I'll learn something else about myself if I give it time. Maybe I'll find out what makes me tick. Maybe I will be able to glide through the mountains of information on the internet about these new Versa 2s, but I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. Nothing is simple anymore, there has to be too many features and functions! I think my best friend may have one too so she can help me.  I just really want to count my damn steps! (sigh)

The Semicolon and Me.

If you know me, and you should by now, if you've been reading the nearly 700 blog spots that are on this blog, you would know that I am a writer. I am an English major, I hold a Masters in English, but also another Masters track in Writing.  When you write you find yourself using several different punctuation marks to help your readers better understand your message; we all know this.  One of the most misunderstood, misused, and misplaced punctuation marks is (the) Semicolon.  I really shouldn't even have capitalized it just now, but because it is going to be referred to as a proper noun I will do so.  

 

Semicolon can be a little tricky bastard at times. Webster’s Dictionary says (and I quote) “a punctuation mark; used chiefly in a coordinating function between major sentence elements (such as independent clauses of a compound sentence)” When I teach my English students, I tell them that Semicolon (not capitalized) is not two words but one. They argue, I prove, we move forward.  I also teach them that Semicolon was not introduced into civil language until the mid-1500s in the Italian language, but because it is the very same symbol that the Greeks used for their question mark, it is considerably older, and it enjoys a dual responsibility.  Semicolons separate clauses rather than introducing them. Semicolons are meant to be yield signs, if you will. I tell them they can use it to replace a comma, they can use it to separate independent clauses, and they can use it to separate dependent clauses from independent clauses. It’s usually about that time I tend to lose a few kids; only the strong minded will survive.  

Today, Semicolon (remember, it’s a name now, not a mark) is being utilized once again as a means of recognition or awareness for various mental issues, depression, or even suicide awareness.  It’s for this cause I’ve decided to add Semicolon to my wrist as a way to show the world that I too am standing with them in their struggles; I want to yield to their needs. If I can be a better servant to someone I want to be, and if they can glance over and see that I have Semicolon prominently placed on my left wrist they may be brave enough to reach out and speak to me about whatever it is that haunting them. Maybe I can answer a question for them. Maybe I can give them a light to take down their path. It’s worth a little ink and pain to be able to help a would-be victim of mental anguish. 

There was a time I would say that I don’t get depressed; I get angry instead. For the most part this statement is true. I just simply never have had the time to be depressed and I was one of those jerks who would say “Get over it”, “push through it”, “stop whining” and so forth. I was always quite capable of pulling myself out of a funk by either working out, writing, going horseback riding, or just being bull-headed enough to force myself to stop feeling sorry for myself. I had things to do, I didn’t have time to sit around moping! That was me. Jerk.  

As an adult I have worked with the mentally ill at the state level through an agency job that led me to a new level of understanding. I know there are still those who just don’t want to recover and prefer to stay under the pressure; the pressure is familiar to them, and whether or not it is a good thing it is a familiar thing; therefore, they accept their fate with it. I want to be able to change that for even one person who chooses to believe in themselves or will choose to allow Jesus the opportunity to change their fate for them. 

So, there it is. Maybe 2020 sucked for the most part for most of the people I know, but it’s made me more aware of the need to be ready and willing to reach out to try and help. Next week I’ll try to find a tattoo artist who can dot me up and give me the all too powerful Semicolon (again, no capitalizing. I don’t want one of my students saying it’s OK because I did it!) Let’s do this.  

Blueberry Avocado Smoothie - - Yes, Please.

 I already know what you're thinking....you want me to come over to your place and make you a blueberry avocado smoothie like the one I am drinking right now, right? Oh, if you only knew how amazing they are you wouldn't wait on me to drive my happy self over there. You'd be all up in your kitchen dancing around the Nutri-Bullet with a purpley-heavenly twinkle in your eye!  It's that good. 

I don't know who it was that introduced me to avocado smoothies, I'm just going to go ahead and give the credit to one of my California friends because avocado trees sprout up just about everywhere in the Golden State. It's next to impossible to go a day in California without someone offering you an avocado. They chop them up for dips, add them to salads, make sandwich toppers of them and even yes, blend them in smoothies to make your drink not only rich to look at, but oh so creamy to drink. Doing it! Just, DOING IT!

OK so you start out with about 10 things to make this great drink. You'll need a high speed blender thingy of some sort, I prefer the Nutri-Bullet because it's been so good to me in the past. I've never once had a issue with it other than maybe one blown gasket - easy fix.  You must have the following: a medium avocado, about 1/3 cup of frozen or fresh blueberries. I use the frozen so it's like an actual smoothie when I'm done.  You need heavy whipping cream and milk, honey, chia seeds or flax, and I add probiotic liquid and a raw egg.  After adding everything together in no particular order, I blend it for about 30-40 seconds and take the canister off the Nutri-Bullet to shake it up before blending it 30-40 more seconds. I just want to be sure it's completely blended. 

When you screw off the blade you make a determination of how thick you may want your smoothie to be. You may love it, or you may want to add more milk. Either way, you'll have a really nice thick, rich, creamy, lovely drink before you and when your tastebuds reach it you'll know why they choose to stay with you a little while longer. OMG it is soooo good. So so good. If you don't believe me, well, you're loss not mine, because I'm doing this a bit more often now that I remembered I loved them years ago. When I messaged my best friend about it just a few minutes ago she asked me if they were another one of those Celtic weird things that I found online that I decided to try. I reminded her that I've been eating avocados since we were in high school together, and that no, it's a thing! It's a real thing! (But if it doesn't have the words Dr. Pepper in it Jeannie may not really be all that interested.) 

Just looking at it makes me happy I remembered it. My brain must have been doing some mental push ups trying to bring the thought from the back of my memories to the forefront of my skull tonight. I haven't had an avocado smoothie in forever it seems.  Well, it won't be the last. Nope, tomorrow I'm off to the store to buy more fruits, different types of frozen things such as strawberries, peaches, mango and pineapple and maybe even some cherries! OH WOW...cherry avocado smoothies sound even better than blueberry avocado smoothies. I could even add a bit of super greens to them and have a really powerful drink - - maybe even a "Send-Ya-To-The-Moon" type of drinks! Where's my spacesuit? Will it still fit? I hope so, I'm taking off, this stuff is awesome.

What I really like about it is it's not too sweet and it's not boring. It's thick enough and has enough protein to be a meal replacement; that means it can be....DINNER!  Done!  God, thank you for your perfectness. Thank you for your willingness to share a wee bit of Heaven with us here on this Earth. I am in awe of your splender.  (sighs a good sigh) :) 

Hurricane Laura - - SERIOUSLY? LAURA?

 OK, OK, OK, if they wanted to call the Cat 5 storm Caitlyn or Caity I would completely understand. I would be the first to tip my hat and say "Yes, you've got that right!"  Caity (though amazingly stunning to look at) can bowl over anyone and everyone either who happen to simply be in her way, or by her personal choice. Why do you think I've always tried my hardest to be on the good side of my wee child? She's a FREAKING FREAK OF NATURE at times, but NO, now they've gone off and named a larger than life monster of a whirl with my 2nd child's name - Laura!  How in the world can anyone be afraid of Laura? No one would take it too seriously if the storm would actually act like Laura does. EVEN when she's mad as hell she's apologizing to everyone and though she may be cursing a blue streak she would be courteous enough to do so in her own little world as to not truly do any real harm.  Laura!  I am just sitting over here shaking my head laughing. Who names a storm LAURA?

If you're going to name a spontaneous natural weather event after Laura Stringfellow it would need to be more along the lines of a sweeping wind with a little rain thrown in, maybe two bolts of lightning for effect. Of course, you'd want those lightning strikes to remain in the air and never actually aimed at any thing in particular. If there simply HAD TO BE damage, it would maybe take out  an already dead tree standing in a field so that IF it caught fire nothing could be devastated by it. She'd be sure and rain a little extra over that said dead tree before striking it to be certain there was nothing to be afraid of. THIS is Laura!  

Laura isn't without her strong points, no, believe me, she's as tough as nails and stronger than whiskey when it comes to training horses. Beasts over 1200 pounds will scamper to it when told to do so by the boss mare, but to try and pen a natural disaster on her is just ludicrous.  Maybe an exceptionally hot day in May or a colder night in October - for a few hours just to make a point! (and then, the apologies for having inconvenienced any of you.) 

NOPE...it simply won't do. Perhaps when they get around to the C's again they'll name a storm after the Queen of wrath, CAITY. Of course, if they do they'll need a new category level to ratchet it up to, 160 mph simply will not do! Nothing less than 300 miles per hour could truly capture the force that is my baby when she's been pissed to the point that she feels you need to be shred slowly over a churning endless spiral of wicked beating hail and torrent rains.  Poor Laura, her friends have taken to calling and messaging her to give her a bit of grief over NOAA's choice of names for this 2020 hurricane to end all hurricanes. I am NOT kidding you, I hear her apologizing to them online - - as if.  So funny, what's next? Will someone call an unseasonably mild day "A Reuben"?  Please God, no. He'd own that! He would SIMPLY OWN that.

Wrong Number Friend.

 Back in 1986 I had a phone number that when you spelled out the numbers on the dial pad was 728-PRAY. I can't tell you how many times I was woken in the middle of the night with calls from people who truly needed someone to pray for them and with them.  We had the ability to put our phones on silent even back then; all you had to do was leave the receiver off the hook! (I know I just about 2000 kids on that one..."What's a receiver? What's a hook?")  I don't recall any one particular call that was made, but I can tell you that God blessed me at all hours of the night with new experiences, new prayers to share, words of comfort that I didn't come up with myself, but that the Holy Spirit through me could be blessed and Jesus glorified. It was an amazing thing really - and I don't know if I would have changed my number even if it had become obnoxious. 

Today, basically 34 years later, I find myself in another odd and fun situation via the telephone. About once a month someone will misdial on their end and end up texting me. Most of the time it's just a simple "Hey I'm on my way home", but because I don't recognize the number, and their name isn't popping up on my little flat screen I text back to let them know they may have reached the wrong person. Now and again the person ignores my response and either texts back to say they can't text because they're driving, or they ask me what I want from the store before they get home.  LOL...I always answer that one. In my best sweet text style possible I add "Oh you know, my favorite candy and maybe you'll get something sweet after dinner."  Then I smile to myself, knowing I've possibly helped a poor soul in their stagnant relationship.

This afternoon a person texted me from an area code very close to my own. When that happens I know they were trying to reach the person with my actual number, but with another area code probably. I typically let them know, but again, as mentioned before, the person ignored my response that could have let them off the hook - - I said hook again -- and they began texting rapidly asking questions about dinner and whether or not my new DVD set of Game of Thrones had arrived. I answered in the negative regarding the GOT as I was never really a fan anyway, my kids love the show, but it's far too bloody and gory for my tastes.  Because I could, and because I had already crossed the line with my GOT answer, I decided to let my new texting friend know that dinner would be a la carte, we could go through the fridge and try to find things to piece together. She/He wasn't having it and insisted on ordering Chinese food.  OK, texted back that it sounded fantastic, and they knew what I liked. (I assumed the knew what I l liked)

Nearly 18 minutes into our conversation the man/woman on the other end asked me what I had been doing all day.  I decided to tell the truth.  "Oh, (I said) my Scottish New Testament came in and I've been reading it. I'm just blown over that John the Baptist et locust and bumbee hinnie!"  There was silence. No more texting. I assumed that my new friend had finally figured it out and that he/she would either bow out graciously or say something like "Why did you let me go on this long?"  Neither of these two things happened.  Instead the person texted again saying "Bumbee hinnie? Is that the same as bumblebee honey?"  I rolled over laughing. 

I answered my friend in the affirmative, then began rolling off one-line passages that I felt were just too hilarious in the Scots language to pass up. I wrote out a line and to my ultimate surprise my texter wrote back what he/she thought it said or meant. Often times the person truly inspired me to find more challenging passages - - I felt a pang of guilt having developed a new relationship that was never mine to begin with. I decided to tell the truth.  I said and I quote myself now, "Friend, I have to be honest with you, this is not who you think it is. My name is Jude, I live in Oklahoma City, not Atlanta. I think you mistakenly typed the 405 rather than the 404 area code. I have had fun however and I hope you have a safe drive home."  Again there was silence.

About 11 minutes later I received another text from the same number. It read (and I should post the actual photo of it from my phone, but I don't want to give away their identity) "New friend, I think I am the one who should apologize to you. I knew in the first minutes you were not my dad, but I let you go on to see how long you would. I really think I want to go to Barnes and Noble and buy a Scottish bible."  My answer was simple "Do it".  I have no idea if my texter will call back, if we'll ever find out who each other really are, but one thing is for sure, you can never know who is on the other side of the wire even if you felt you dialed the right number and realized you did not. There's a world of people out there who may just need someone to listen to, to talk to, to share with, to be a good friend.  DO IT. (I double-dog dare ye!) 

SHEDDING!!!

 OMG, seriously OMG, I lost another pound in one day. I know why - - I probably danced 11 hours yesterday.  No, I'm joking but damn, I danced most of the day and into the night too. Torpedoes be damned and rammed right back where you came from because this girl has decided to make something happen. NOTHING can stop me. (Take heed Satan, don't even try!) This is a work of Jesus, this is a glory to Him. I won't spend a lot of time going over it, but this morning I stood on the scale knowing there would be a slight difference. You can't take in 1200 calories and burn 5000 without there being a difference somewhere even if it's only water. When I say I danced 11 hours I'm not far off actually.  Sometimes I picked it up and pushed it, other times I merely moved around, but I didn't stop. Laura came out of her room at least twice to tell me to take it easy, not to over do it. She knows me. I often over do things.

OK, that's it, not a big blog this time. Just a wee note, but it's a good note. 

I gotta go feed Sam, he's sitting on my right hand as I type - - not an easy thing to deal with. Fat yellow cat! Thanks for listening, reading, caring, praying. THANK YOU JESUS!  (1 more down so many to go, but it will be this way until it's finished.)

YES! The Taste of Grass and Dirt.

 There probably aren't many of us out there, but there are enough of us that the health and beauty industry has continued to press on with sweet (wrong choice of words) tasting healthy super foods for us to use and become more and more...well, SUPER!  For me it's the greens, the organic soil rich tasting greens powder that you buy and mix with water, milk, juice, aloe vera, just about any liquid you choose so that all of your inner guts will be nearly instantaneously bombarded with pumped up earthy antioxidants so strong you feel as if your tongue and throat have been coated with a layer of genuine red clay.  LOVE that. Love the taste of dirt; always have.  When you add the wheat grass, the lemon grass, or all the other grassy grasses they combine in these products there is no wonder more people leave the canisters right on the shelf, but not me.  

Losing weight is paramount in my mind right now, but along that journey's rustic old path, the one I've traveled a number of times, is the newer cut path of more recent ingenuity - greens.  Dieting is good, we should all keep an eye on our diet, however the word "dieting" carries far too many connotations with no way of understanding exactly what it means to everyone using the word. For me, dieting is not just cutting out sugary foods and carbs. I like my carbs, in fact I eat plenty of them in the right amounts and at the right time. Knowing I didn't know enough to know what I needed to know, I consulted Google for the best would be answers to the questions I may or may not ask regarding the best diet for me. I took into consideration my weight, what I had to lose, what my age and body type are, as well as knowing enough about human habits to realize I'm not going to fool myself into eating less or drinking power drinks long enough to make any difference if the choices aren't a life choice. It's freaking time I try harder and where there is hope there is a way to make that happen.

I have a goal in my head. I have a size in mind of course, but I have a look in mind as well. I have not only made the choice to eat better, but to do it with such power that every cell in my body will know what is and what is no longer allowed entrance through my mouth. GRASS, DIRT? Always allowed, as long as it's in a fancy powder with a regulation scoop so I don't over dirt myself. I'm told that can be a problem.

With diet comes the exercise, and I'll write another blog about that one. I sort of angled at it when I wrote about the dancing - - aye, it's not only dancing, but mixing it up with yoga, stretching, strength training, and of course, aerial hammock! LOL...WHAT? OK, not yet, not until I have the body back, but once I do have the body back, that's the next step. One more tick for the Bucket List!

Today's drink was water based, so it was absolutely chunky and full of frothed swollen pear juice. If you're going to drink down dirt with grass it may help to throw in a big fat green pear, a little honey, a spoonful of chia seeds and ginger root. Mix it all up with water and blend at excessively high speeds. You'll have to drink it pretty fast to keep the chunkiness down to a tolerable level. If you let it fluff up too much you'll find yourself in a bit of a battle adding more water, stirring it up, drinking it down, adding more water, and repeating the process.  Believe me, no one else really makes their green smoothies like me - but then again, I'm not like anyone else really. I sort of like it that way. I can juice tomorrow, maybe aloe and juice, but switching it up is good. You don't have to throw in a pear, any good fibrous fruits will work, but pears add an extra gut supporting regime. Good guts are hard to obtain these days.  Pears will assist with leaking gut syndrome, immune systems, they even have a reputation of being anti-cancer fruits! Woot! Pears! 

I wasn't kidding about the aerial hammock either -- watch me.