Jude Stringfellow's Blog, page 89

A True Love Affair with Aldi

 Only those really close to me know (really know) that I have a love thing going for the store chain Aldi. It is just a thing, and it happened the instant I laid eyes on it (I don't know if Aldi is masculine or not) and I have never stopped loving Aldi. I could be persuaded at times to visit other stores of course, but I don't consider that cheating on Aldi; no, I really don't. There are times when Aldi doesn't have what I need, and Aldi simply can't satisfy me the way I feel I need to be satisfied by a grocer. It is what it is, and I don't consider it sin or unfaithful. I think of it as being a decision I make to get what I need but I won't ever give up my true love. It won't happen. (I say that, I haven't yet stepped foot in a Lidl, which I consider to be Aldi's twin) Oklahoma has the Aldi chain, but I will have to be in Scotland to shop at Lidl.

    When Aldi first appeared in Oklahoma City several years ago, I don't remember even wondering where the brands they sold originated. I simply considered them "off" brands, but tried them anyway, and I found that I really didn't notice much of a difference between their "store" brands, as I thought they must be, and the name brands that I was used to buying at say an Albertson's, Walmart, Crest, or even Target Superstore.  I remember the day when grocery stores were smaller and didn't have chains.  I say that, we had them, but my family shopped at a relatively good sized store called Humpty Dumpty's. I was in fact, the (registered on record) first "girl" sacker in the city of Bethany, Oklahoma, and I think perhaps in Oklahoma City. Other females did in fact sack groceries, but it was part of their job(s) as a cashier. I was hired specifically to fulfill an educational obligation at my high school's Distributive Education Clubs of America class. I had to work, they needed someone to sack, it worked out well for everyone until football season got in the way - - I left. (I have always had priorities.)

    Aldi comes in many sizes and is not limited to one store, mind you. I am in love with all of Aldi, not just part of or one of Aldi. I am connected to, albeit, not married to, the best kept secret this side of the Pecos. That last statement may not actually make sense to some of you. The Pecos is a river in Texas and New Mexico. It eventually flows into the Rio Grande and people cross it to come shop at Aldi. I know they do. They line up, as a matter of fact, by the hundreds at a time, and they cross the river Grande simply to shop at my favorite hide-away. It's not uncommon to see dozens of people who I've never met, walking through the isles of any of the locations in the city and surrounding cities. I do try my best to introduce myself to as many as possible, but the task becomes quite daunting at times. Some people, if you can believe it, would rather I mind my own business and not ask simple food-related questions of them, and others find my assistance to be quite useful. I like those people best.

    Aldi is one of those chains where you are asked to bag your own groceries. I do that anyway, having the years upon years of professional experience you know...(giggles).  I approach the conveyor belt with pride as I bring my own bags and talk to the swift-handed, usually even-keeled cashiers. I find that Aldi tends to hire liberal minded folks for their cashiers (can't know why) and it often becomes an interesting time at check out time.  I tend to mind my own business you know, I do that from time to time, but when I'm asked I will share my opinion.  My bags usually have something political or spiritual about them, they may say "Let's Go Brandon" or "But God".  You just never know. I tend to always bring my St. Andrews Scottish flag bag so that someone can ask about it. I have no problems discussing Scotland at the drop of a hat, penny, dime, you name it, I will discuss the land of the Heather with any and everyone I can. Scotland could hire me to be a tourist recruiter -- just sayin'. I usually mention something like, "You know, Scotland has Aldis too" and then the onus is on them to follow up with a question about Scotland.  They do. It's fun. I love it. If Aldi had a team I would be their cheerleader.

    When I do finally go back to Scotland and shop at my sweet favorite Aldi location(s) I hope that I won't be lured by all the equally beautiful Lidls hanging about, but you know I will have to walk into and through all the Tescos as they have three sizes!  Mind you, size doesn't matter, it never has, I'm not one of those people who compare and expect more from a bigger - - store.  I prefer the medium sized and slightly unorganized, not so neat, not so stuffy grocer.  Morrisons is nice, Sainsbury and others as well, but you just can't beat a good Aldi. No, I mean, you can shop somewhere that has the particular brand of dog treats that your dog has determined are the only things she will eat, but you can't beat the chocolate and you can't convince me that anything bigger is better when it comes to cheese. Not happening. I could be stuck in the cheese section for weeks if you let me. I stare a lot when I go there. I just fantasize and smile - - I wonder if anyone wonders what I'm wondering? 

    Well, that's it. I'm off to the place that makes me happiest -- I usually wait to shop after I eat so I'm not tempted to buy more than what will fit in my three bags. I'm practicing my shopping habits so when I go back to Dunfermline (or even Edinburgh) I won't overload myself with food that won't fit in the tiny refrigerators you find in the flats. I'm going to have to buy a place so I have room to turn and dance in the kitchen - - and bedroom. Don't get me started on the Scottish bedroom sizes. THERE...that is where size matters. THAT...is where it matters! The size of the bedrooms...Oh MY GOSH, and the closets, that is if they have closets! First world issues, I know...and the dryers. STOP. I need to stop. I love Scotland. I love Scotland. I love Scotland. I have to remind myself that storage and dry clothes are just overrated. I've got this.

Photo Credit: Aldi

Some Lucky Guy

 I was at the dentist's this morning, and that's not a place people typically strike up new friendships, but I did exactly that.  There was a really sweet older man in the waiting room and he was going to have his upper teeth removed to give him both a better healthy body as well as a prettier smile.  He was scared because he hadn't been under the gas or had any numbing meds for several years. He admitted he hadn't been to the dentist in over 15 years.  He was genuinely pretty nervous about the whole thing.  I asked him if I could sit with him and we could just talk about what it was that scared him; maybe I could help. I thought maybe we could either pray together or just talk it out together and he'd feel better.  I asked if he was a married man because he had his thin gold band on his left hand, but you could tell it hadn't come off that finger in several decades.  

    He answered he was in fact a married man. His sweet wife had departed and had decided to move into a new mansion up in Glory without him.  He said they had agreed just before she left, that she would clean the place really good for him so he'd have a nice home to be welcomed in when the day came that he also decided to leave this world.  She would be with him today, he added, but she's pretty busy.  Yes, I suppose she is. I sat with him. He told me his name, and I told him mine.  I listened as he spoke about all the little things that his wife would do for him that made life so much easier for him to bear when he was of working age and when he was expected to bring home the bacon, as he put it. She would keep the house, she would do the shopping, she would do the mending, the ironing, the washing, the cooking, the cleaning, and she mostly on her own, he admitted, raised their two sons.  He was "Some lucky man" he said. I agreed with him.

    The dental assistant came to the door to announce that he was next to go behind the closed doors. I think the fact that they were so closed off and set apart from the waiting area was one of his main concerns. It felt cold to him.  I was a bit surprised a few minutes later when the dental assistant came back and asked me if I could be with the man while he had his procedure. I mean, I had an appointment that morning myself; I had no idea I was going to be asked to hold someone's hand.  I smiled at the assistant and told her I would be honored to do so.  She pushed my appointment back a bit, and I took a rolling stool next to my new friend.  God is so perfect, isn't He?  Not only did I meet one of the world's most luckiest men ever to walk the face of the Earth, but I was given a chance to serve him just like his own precious wife would have done had she not been so busy up in Heaven today.

    After about an hour, because it takes a minute to get someone settled, numbed up, and then given the instructions on how to relax and breathe through the procedure; the deed was done.  Since my dentist is the type that does the same day denture procedure my new buddy walked out of the office with his new upper plate in place and again, instructions on what to do when he goes home.  HOME! OMG...I didn't think about that; who would watch over him there? Suddenly, I found myself in both wife mode as well as mother mode! I wanted to smother the man in genuine care and make sure his every breath was counted and placed in order. I wanted to fluff his pillows, mash his potatoes a bit more, and show him how to brush so it wouldn't hurt.  "Relax, Jude"  came the voice of my dentist, "He'll be fine, he goes t my church and lives at the assisted center. He'll have 24/7 care, and I've already called the driver to come give him a ride home in about 30 minutes when he's had time to recover a bit, and I think he wanted to say good bye to you as well.  Do you mind?"  Do I mind? I was again, honored that he would be so kind.  

    Just before I walked out into the waiting room to see my toothy-grinned friend, I said a prayer for him to be sure he would be OK and not have any trouble when he got back to the center.  He held my hands and he kissed my cheek.  He said he had a few grandkids but not one of them could take the time to come to the dentist to be with him. He supposed that kids these days are just too busy and they work or have too much on their plates to do more than what they do.  I told him I had a phone and he could call it and reach me. When he goes back in for the lower plate I hope he'll put in that call. Just to be sure he's taken care of, I sked the dentist to call me too - - you know, just in case.  If he's been the luckiest man this long there's no reason to end his winning streak.  

    We said good bye, and it was nice to meet you, and all that.  Just one more thing he said, before he let me get on my way.  He said if I ever do decide to marry again he hopes that man knows what all he's getting in the package.  I asked him what he meant by that.  He said "Oh, most women these days just let a man do for himself. They don't realize how scared and vulnerable we can be.  Men are supposed to be big and strong, brave you know. Women are the one things we can't do without. Men need to know that."  Wow.  Then he added "There will be another lucky man if he can keep up with you!"  I thanked him and I thought maybe there may be, but God will have to put His seal of approval on him first -- still, I felt a little smile beaming down on us from one of the luckiest ladies to ever walk the face of the Earth.

Photo Credit: Picfair

Food Porn. (I do it)

 I know I must have been about 11 when my dad started allowing me in the kitchen to cook with him. I had been cooking or assisting in the church kitchen at least two years when Daddy finally realized that his littlest kid was absolutely familiar with a potato peeler, and she wasn't going to cut her thumbs off with it. He let me peel the potatoes, he let me add the fillers to the meatballs, but other than that I was banned from hanging out around the stove. He felt that it was too dangerous because of my long hair. Oh, wait, here's a thought - - put the hair up and cook!  We didn't think that way I guess.  I was happy just to be in the kitchen with my Daddy, standing on top of a chair to be able to reach the back of the sink. 

    When I would go to the local library I would devour the recipe books. I would sit down in the little hall between the TWEEN books and the more mature books and I'd flip through the slick colored pages of the most recent and even the older recipe books, not just the cook books, no, I wanted PICTURES. I like the way the green vegetables popped out on the page, and I loved how they always had a checkered little cloth somewhere in the photo too; makes it feel more like your own home! Everyone had little checkered clothes I suppose. We didn't, but you know, everyone else, those who had money and could afford things like that. They had them. They had the better spoons too, and the platters, and the matching dinnerware. Heck, anyone and everyone other than our family had matching cups and tumblers. We were...well, eclectic I suppose. I never knew we were poor.

    When I was in my teens I subscribed to a mail in type club where you'd pay X amount of money each month, maybe under Five Dollars, and they'd send you cards with recipes and pictures of the finished products on the cards! Oh my gosh, can you imagine? You never really knew what they were going to send you. It was a mystery!  You had to collect them all, and I think there were 6 in a pack, and they had 10 or 12 categories like :Breakfast, Lunch, Snack, Dinners, 30-minute meals, Desserts, Vegetables, and so forth. If you paid for two or three packs when you first got started they threw in a really cool index box with index cards to separate your recipes and keep them all organized. Wow! I was hooked! I remember asking for extra jobs around the neighborhood so I could do that! I babysat, washed cars, took out trash for people, you name it. I wanted the money.  Another way we kids picked up a little extra cash back in those days was to go dumpster diving for bottles. I don't know if you're old enough to remember, but we actually got FIVE CENTS per bottle when we took them to the grocery store and proved to the manager that we were the ones bringing the bottles in! Yes, yes, it's true. We did.

    I collected my money. I talked my mom into giving me a check and I paid her the money I had. She deposited the money. I had to wait for it to be posted, but she wrote out that beautiful check, and we mailed it off with my paper subscription application.  I used my real name, address, and telephone number and everything - - believe it or not, after over 286 years since that day, I still remember my address, and my telephone number. I guess I still remember my name too, but it didn't seem all that nifty to mention that so I didn't. I know exactly who I am. I just have no clue how I got this old or this far from that day. 

    Years passed, I baked. More years passed. I cooked and I continued to cook for myself, my family, the church, my friends, anyone and everyone who would dare to sit at my table was fed. That practice hasn't ended. The things that have changed about my cooking would be the way I get my recipes maybe. I still use the old (and I do mean OLD) metal pans and pots because there's just too many years of love in them not to use them. I may someday use some of that grease and gunk remover stuff to see if underneath all that love I could find stainless steel again. It could happen. I'll blog about it if I do. I don't know that I would ever disrespect my pans to remove the love, but I may do it out of curiosity.  I have my Granny's big fat crock mixing bowl that barely fits inside the cabinet. It's a honker, let me tell you, but she had a brood to cook for. I don't know exactly how I ended up with it, I may have just snuck it out the door one day - - seems likely. It's been too long ago. She went to see Jesus in 1993. 

    Today, I go to Pinterest for my food decisions. I look up a thing or two, I pretend I know what I'm doing and I get all the ingredients I think I'll need to fake my way through the process of making something that remotely resembles or could be mistaken for what I saw online. I'm not saying I'm a gourmet, OK, I'm just saying I do OK. I've earned the right to brag a little, so I do.  Today, (again with the word "Today", you'd think an English professor could fix that...) Today, I made an Italian Cream Cake with a French vanilla mix, extra eggs, butter, cream cheese, coconut, pecans, and cranberries. Let me tell you - - yes.  It came out exactly the way I wanted it to, and my daughter raved!! That's all I need really, just a rave or two. One rave. OK, yeah, one rave and I'm good.  After the cake I decided dinner needed to be just as tantalizing, so I went back to Pinterest and found Alfredo meatballs, creamy parmesan mushrooms, hickory bacon wrapped asparagus and for grins and giggles I added cumin, garlic, minced onions and basil to the meatballs; because I can.  I'll post a pic on IG.

    Anyway, that's my deal now. I'm happy to oblige just about anyone I love if they call me up and ask for something special. It could happen. I mean, I'll need a minute to go to the store, get the stuff and make it, but you can just rest easy and know I'll take care of you - - if I love you. Please don't write to me and ask me to cook for you; no, don't do that. If I don't know you today, this day, right now, and I don't love you like the Sunshine that I would wrangle for anyone I hold dear, please don't expect me to hoist a finger to drum up something savory for you, but I do appreciate you thinking of me. I do. I post what I cook on Instagram and things I'm going to cook. I have a whole week's worth of ideas waiting on me but I'm still over there searching for something new and juicy.  Love the juicy.  You gotta love juicy. It's ... you know, really good....it's juicy.  Dripping and saturated with goodness. Unless I burn it. Then it's gonna be called something Cajun! (Smiles)

    Ohhhh, did you see that? No, you don't see it because you're not here looking at my 2nd monitor. I've got cheese and vegetable hors d' oeuvres with amazing cute tiny stars cut out of different cheeses to be all sparkly and colorful. They've ribboned a thinly sliced cucumber and stuck a toothpick through it resemble a tree and stuck the star...OMG...on the top! It's gonna happen folks. Christmas is coming, and Ima gonna Pinterest the fool out of this holiday season...yep.  Damn...I just saw little reindeer toasts with pretzels for antlers....and half a cherry tomato for a nose. Stop! I can't do this. (She clings to the hazelnut spread and marshmallows for more inspiration.)  WHAT? Monster burgers? WHAT?

 

Photo Credit: Me

And So it Begins! (Harder and Longer Workouts)

 My personal trainer has got it into his head that I need to work out more, and by working out more I mean more than I already do. Mind you, I am a fit woman! (OK, the word "fit" could be mistaken for "relatively in shape")  I drag my butt to the YMCA three times a week and I do the expected tortures for about 18-21 minutes straight. The trainer by the way is really amazingly handsome, and I could stare at him all day long.  In fact, there were days when he was an even younger man that I made it a point to stare at him all day long. I even watched him sleep! That's how creepy this mom is....yeah, I'm that mom! One night, and this has nothing to do with the story I'm telling you, but shows you how I have no interest in keeping on track, I was diapering my child and literally taped his arms inside his diaper. I woke up the next morning to my son thrashing around his crib like a baby seal. So sad!  OK, back to the torture thing - - wait, could this be payback? Let me think about that?

    I used to go to the YMCA three times a week and do about 18-21 hard minutes of workout between the ab cruncher/back extension machine, the arms push, the leg/ankle pump, the leg press, the pull to the chest weights, and then I'd finish off with 6-8 minutes of squats and ring stretches for resistance.  Well, now I'm going in and spending about 31-34 minutes on the same things but adding 3-4 minutes of rope hauling, an over the head pull thing with 30-40 pounds and another EXTRA 20 pounds on all of the machines except the arm push thing, I only have to do 10 more pounds on it because some things do have their limits. If I thought I was going home after all that I was wrong. The treadmill was prepped and ready for me. I set it at 3.7 speed and at an incline so I could struggle a little -- I did 9 minutes today and I'm expected to get that up to 15 soon.  If I die at least I'll look good.

    Today, I'm over at the leg/ankle thing and this really sweet older man stands next to the machine. I thought he was waiting for me to finish with it so he could get on it, but he was just wanting to watch me. He said he watches me all the time because it seems I'm either praying or talking to myself. I had to laugh. I'm actually singing.  I have my ears full of Nickelback, Daughtry, Santana, Foreigner, Kansas, Journey, and sometimes for grins and giggles I switch to Celtic Worship...good for a cool down. There's a beat for every machine really  -- why not let the treadmill be the walk to Jesus?  

    It may not seem like 30-34 minutes of constant moving and hustle is hard enough, or effective enough to make a difference in your life, but it does. The secret is not hours and hours of steady as you go, but to get the heart rate up for several minutes a day and to use resistance when you can. When I'm on the ab machine I tighten the core and hips. When I'm on the row machine I do the same - - I forgot to mention earlier that I do a row now and again if someone is on the ab machine. I can do just about as much damage on it as I can the other. Squats are hard on you no matter where you are or what you're doing. You can buy the DB Method machine, it's a great work out, but I am using the rings at the gym and angling my body pretty much the same way as I would on the DB. I can do the same hand motion, or with the rings I can turn my wrists over and pull myself with my arms, but again, all the while you want to tighten your bum, core, and thighs. You need the resistance. 

    The ropes! OMG....the ROPES.  I will celebrate the day I can pass 3 minutes. I lag and pull and cuss myself through the 2nd minute just trying to get to the 3rd. It is so hard. I mean, if I had smaller ropes I could do more than three but it is what it is. The ropes they have at the YMCA are thick! They are the real deal, and they are hard as heck trying to lift, twist, and throw.  I think I've started a trend, more people are going to them now. I hope to be able to make them a popular choice for the patrons, most people just walk right past them.  One sweet man asked me today why I only do them for such a short time. He's watched me a few times. I told him I go as long as I can, but they're pretty hard to manage after the 2nd full minute.  He was a younger man than myself, and he tried them for a while. After a full minute or so he glanced over at me and laughed -- we both understood.  He stopped.

    Soon and very soon I'll have the body I should have had 30 years ago.  Soon and very soon I'll have the money I need to have the surgery to remove the skin I have left over from not having the body I should have had 30 years ago.  I'm not ashamed of admitting that I'll go under the knife to be gorgeous. Nope, quite the opposite. I'll even let the doctors know I'll blog about them so they'll be apt to do a great job.  I want the mirror to agree with my head, and that's going to take a bit of planning on my part and on the part of the surgeon.  Maybe this spring I'll reveal the new and improved Jude.  Let's see. I've lost about 54 pounds since August 2020; I have about 22 more to go. I don't mind the number on the scale as long as the number on the jean sizes go down.  I will likely have another surgery to perk the boobs up too. I'm by no means wanting to augment those babies, they need to take a hike. I have longed for a "Barely B" for years, instead I'm rocking a "Copious C" and let me tell you, I thought all this sweating and heaving around would force them to reduce themselves. Instead they've taken a stand and just get harder not smaller. Dang it.

    Maybe some day I'll have the body I thought I should have growing up, but no one told me growing up would include all those years of child rearing, working crazy hours, touring with a two legged dog, and scraping the bottom of the barrel for a penny to pay the cable guy!  It's my turn now. My kids are grown, my bills are paid, my sites are set, and before Jesus comes back (or not, I may have to just let my perfected body be it) I want to do things MY WAY this time - - and be happy to say good morning and good evening to myself. I have always loved my brain, but now it's time to love my body (and my face) too.  I haven't even told you guys about the laser thing I'm doing for my face....OMG, maybe next blog. I want to see how it works first.

    

Photo Credit: Fettle Fitness

    

Jude's Almost Daily Blog Book 2 (UPDATE)

 I think there will likely be several blogs in the next few weeks that would be considered an update to the progress I am making on my second blog book.  The book really doesn't have the word "Book" in its title. I don't know why I keep adding it to the things I write or update.  The actual title is "Jude's Almost Daily Blog  Vol. 2"  but I think on the actual book it will just have the number "2" in blue and a bit bigger than the other font in the title. That's a decision I made a while back, and I'll stick to my guns with it. I think the "2" will be slightly turned as well.  

    The book has been completed as far as the writing of it is concerned. I am 100% positive I will go through it at least a dozen more times to align things, fix punctuation, misspellings, wrong word placement, grammar, and the like. I am also 100% certain that I will go back through it another dozen ore more times to place photos and descriptions of those photos in little parenthesis marks. I need about 100 photos and I think I have about 60-70 that I know I'll be using, so I may need to run out to the woods, the airport, and other places to take photos to add to the pages to either make a point or just have a nice photo to look at when the reader is reading. I love photos and assume others do as well. The first book is printed in color and that makes it a bit more expensive to print, but it's worth it. I so much like color better than black and white until the black and white is creative and offered to achieve a dramatic effect.

    Just yesterday I wrote a blog about having finished the manuscript and I mentioned that I had not yet chosen a person or persons to dedicate the book to, but today I have.  I have decided to dedicate the Book 2 to the Bethany Christian Trust in Scotland. I would say Edinburgh, Scotland, but they have their headquarters in Leith, and several other facilities around the area. I hope to see them expand in the future, and therefore I will say "Scotland" in the book so as to give them the same hope of expanding! My hope is that for every book purchased a person may consider giving a donation to the Trust as well. I would love to see that happen, and will likely add something about that in the beginning of the book, and I may add it to the end as an afterthought.   BCT really deserves so much credit and assistance. Their general mission is to end homelessness in Scotland. You can't get a better cause really. I mean, there are so many things that can be done to help prevent homelessness, but once it's there it needs to be addressed head-on!

    The book has over 94,000 words, will be about the same size, or 330 pages, and will have about or just at 100 photos.  It will be produced by the same publishing company, and I'll be sure and use my same marketing manager Koshia Silver of Edmond, Oklahoma. She is just the best. We're working on a way to promote the first book now through reviews on Amazon before we go through another campaign and hopefully, with the new attention on the first book, I can drive enough sales to promote it and the 2nd book right along with it. I think the new book should be out in late February or early March. After I submit it in November I'll have more time to "murder people" for the next series. I'm writing a good long series of murder novels next and probably at the same time working toward completing the children's book series for Faith the Dog. They should not take as much time, as they are literally written for children and have many less words and more pictures that I won't be drawing! You don't want to see my rendition of the dog...I can't draw stick people! I really suck.

    God knew exactly what He was doing when He assured me that things would work out for good for those who love and are called to His purpose. I'm off work, not worrying about paying my bills, I'm writing, I'm relaxing, I'm studying to become a stock broker so I can earn money on the side and move to Scotland. I may have to do a third Blog Book called "Jude's Almost Daily Blog 3, the Scottish Edition" and just make the blogs about what all happens in the Highlands, the Lowlands, around the Borders and in those secret scary places known only to the locals.  Maybe I can get in on a hand-fasting, a worship session or two, a few Highland games, fishing, cooking, eating, guising, and who knows what else - - maybe do a Gaelic blog that you'd have to use a translator to read! Gu Mhath! 

    Well, the important thing is, I'm writing. I'm happy, and my fingers are clicking away. Nothing except maybe a pen in my hand could make my face smile so much - - OK, OK, Naked Bearded Man can make me giggle too -- he's waiting on me to finish so I can listen to him blather on about his day around the house; he's quite useful really.  (She smiles because she's silly like that) 

Photo Credit:  Bethany Christian Trust
LINK TO DONATE:  www.bethanychristiantrust.com

Blog Book 2 is FINISHED

 OMG, OMG, OMG.  Yes, it is true. "Jude's Almost Daily Blog Book 2" is FINSIHED. I have completed the writing portion of it. I'll pay for the publication in November, and it will likely be our around February or so of 2022.  YES, your name may be in it, deal with it, no, I may not have asked permission to do so, I don't have to. I was so nice and so polite last time when I began asking permission and when I was told no by a few of the people I really wanted to add in the book, it just sort of hit me wrong - I don't know, I thought to myself "Who wouldn't want to be in my book?"  Now, after all that's happened to me over the past few weeks, I can tell you there are quite a few people who would just assume I forgot how to spell their names correctly; oh, but I did NOT forget. I actually remembered every syllable. I have a few really interesting photos to add to the mix as well, and again, no, I didn't ask permission of the subject of the photos, but I did get permission from the photographer! That counts.

    Why am I being so dogmatic about the whole permission thing? I guess because writing is not about being restricted; it's about sharing feelings, emotions, stories, thoughts, truths, experiences and more. It's not about being held back, made to pay, made to suffer, made to anything except what it is, and that is for me to share with the readers who choose to read my book(s) what it is that I experience and examine. I'm not being mean or nasty. I'm certainly not trying to make a buck off of a famous name or someone else's story. 

    If you know me, and you should know a bit about me if you're reading my blogs, you know I don't lie (unless my kids are involved, then sometimes it's practically unavoidable).  I will always try to see the brighter side of things. I will typically give more credit than what is deserved, but I just don't see the need to beg someone to be a part of my book when they were a part of my life and my book, at least these past two, are just that; about my life. Can I help it if I ran into you? Can I help it if you made an impact and now I have to share you with the world? Well, I'll just have to pour you a big ol' glass of get over it, and throw in a straw so you can suck it up! (I said that with a pyrate's smile on my face, I do hope you know I'm not being mean or God forbid, "cheeky".)

    "Jude's Almost Daily Blog Book 2"  has, in keeping up with the first book, 94,146 words, which means it will be nearly the exact same size as "Jude's Almost Daily Blog" and it will have as many photos, or as close to 100 as I can get. I haven't decided who I will dedicate this book to yet. I will have about another month to decide before I put it in production. It will be published and printed by the same publishing company that did the first blog book; Palmetto in South Carolina.  It will have a similar type cover so as to be a good companion to the first book, and it will be added to the website as soon as we have production art and dates to report.

    My family wants me to hurry up and get the murder book out and published, and I can do that next. I'm happy to oblige anyone who wants me to murder someone now and again. I have been on such a great roll lately with these mindful (FICTION) homicides that I've been creating, tweaking, and recreating, that I just can't decide if I want to add them all to the new book or just a couple of them. Should I start out tossing the handsome folk guitarist over the cliff? That could be a good attention getter, but the problem with that is, I think he may have been murdered by the guy who actually catches the other two murderers. Time will tell. These things happen. You run into a snag or two, and the sweet guitarist may end up surviving after all - - I may have him break off his right thumbnail for all the trouble he's caused me over the past few months.  Again, time will tell. (You never want to waste a good "accident")

    Behave yourselves and be good to one another. I've been busy studying for my stock broker and trades exams. My goal of course is to write on a permanent and ongoing basis, but to get to that point I may have to swing trade and made a few deals. Who knows, it could work out in my favor if I find a good place on Wall Street to use a sharpened axe...for another book, not the first one, it's all but decided who will die, how they die, but more importantly (as always) the best disposals ever!  C'mon now, you can't expect me to give it away can you? Where's the fun in that?

Photo Credit:  New York Times

A Truly Good Baptist!

 Let me just start out by saying that the Bible is so very very true. It's full of so many things that just can't be disputed and one of those things is this: "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."  That beautifully powerful and truthful verse is found in Proverbs 22:6. King Solomon spoke those words, and as you may or may not know or remember, King Solomon was the wisest of them all. He said it because it is truly true. My mom used to worry about my brother and his ways because he was not following the training and the Christian guidelines that she and Daddy would have preferred for him. He (my brother) was prone to doing things outside of the way we had been raised, and suffice it to say, some of his antics turned around on him and bit him in the butt! He'll be the first one to admit that fact.  Well, today, that child of my mother's is quite old...old enough that dirt needs to show its respect, mind you.  My brother, that old man, has returned to Christ and has for several years lived the way our parents would not only be proud of, but would be anxious to show the world as well.

    Being seen as "good" Baptists was always important to my parents.  I can remember my Methodist friends saying things like "Your parents are really strict, huh?"  Well, yeah, they were, and it was for the best. Many of my would be friends couldn't cut the muster with Daddy, they would be asked to go home rather than being invited to dinner. He wasn't cheap, and it wasn't that he didn't want to share his food with them, but he told me once he didn't think they understood what family meant, and our praying at the table may not set well with their parents. He didn't want the neighbors up in arms or talking trash I guess. Momma was a bit more kind-hearted. She had all the kids in the neighborhood eating her cookies, drinking the actual Kool-Aid because that's what we had, we drank Kool-Aid.  She was quite popular with her floury apron and a plate full of oatmeal butterscotch cookies on a Saturday afternoon, and it didn't matter what the weather was like, you could count on going to Becky's and being fed....just not staying for supper.

    Being a good Baptist meant that the girls were taught how to cook for a mess of people, say maybe 80 to 100 people at a time.  We were given instructions very early on, and I remember being about nine years old and being asked into the kitchen at Windsor Hills Baptist Church in Oklahoma City, by one of the older more veteran Baptist cooking women. I thought I was on fire! I was being asked into the kitchen! Are you SERIOUS? That must have really gotten up under the skin of about 20 girls near or around my age. To think, me, Jude, little Jude, being asked to help in the KITCHEN on a Wednesday evening. What on Earth or in Heaven had to happen for that to happen? I was allowed, even expected to butter the tops of the dinner rolls and you know I did my utmost. You know I took extreme (bragging) pride in that assignment. I was IN THE KITCHEN....and I stayed there for the next 127 years; doing what we do, because we do it. We're good Baptist women!

    Well, about the time my son was graduating from high school and moving on into the world of the military, I left the church family to take my dog Faith around the world. After a few years of traveling and moving about with her, I just never returned to the kitchens of the local Baptist church, but I always remember to pray for the members, the various congregations, and the pastors of every group gathering to meet to pray and worship Jesus.  I never actually joined the Metropolitan Baptist Church, I think my official membership (on the books) would be in Broken Arrow from about 1994.  I have been attending Calvary Chapel Kaneohe online, and I attend The Superior Word online. The Superior Word is out of Sarasota, Florida, and let me tell you, my good pastor Charlie Garrett would absolutely appreciate my well over a century of Baptist cookin' and the fact that because I was Baptist for so long I know the trivial and minute details of every Sunday School story ever told! I win at Bible Trivia, you know that's a fact!  If you're going to play in teams, make sure you bring a Baptist with you! He or she will be your Ringer when you need to know who married what king, how many babies they had, where the last supper was supposed to take place, and so forth. We did drills for FUN!

    Today, for no reason whatsoever, I decided to make a big ol' batch of oatmeal butterscotch cookies, and though I don't have neighbor kids to share them with I will take them to a few of my elderly neighbors so they can enjoy them. If any of my friends come by later I'm fairly certain there will be more than a few left over. The batch made 6 dozen. I'm up to my eye balls in two-inch round cookies. Did you know we Baptists have a means of perfecting the two-inch round cookie? It's just a thing I guess, but once you've done it a gazillion times for a gazillion people, you pretty much get it down to a science.  I never measure when I cook either, and for the most part, that's probably because in the kitchen of the church they may have had 1 measuring cup but about 10 cooks in the room at one time. You just deal. You figure it out. You make it happen. God bless the ladies I was raised under.

    To God be the absolute glory...and pass the biscuits! (after you wash your hands and say Grace.)

Photo Credit:  Me (those are about 1/2 of what I made today)

New Chapters

 It dawned on me this morning as I was driving to the meeting that would end this chapter of my career, that I haven't murdered anyone in over a week! Truth! I have not taken the time to fantasize or daydream about kicking someone off a cliff, rolling them out of a airplane while we skip lowly over the waters in one of those really nifty sea crafts that can take off or land on water; best thing is that if you time it right you can chop the body up with the propellers. So many things to think about, and here I am just wasting my days studying for exams to become a stock broker when I should be pulling rusted spikes out of someone's skull before I throw them to the hogs out back that I've fictitiously (in my mind only) allowed to starve a full day and night so they'd be ready to dispose of the corpse at least most of the way - - there's always going to be something left over to use as fertilizer in the garden. (I really do need to write this book, it's killing me just hanging out in my brain)

    While driving and thinking about having not murdered anyone, I popped a favorite CD into the player and there it was, Mercy Me singing about letting it all go - - "Gotta Let it Go" and you know, we do. We have to let our lives go in the paths and directions they are supposed to go. I was supposed to teach for a minute, and I did. I would teach, take off a year, teach, relax another year, teach and this time around, the last time around that old merry-go-round of mine, I decided to step off that carousel and make a difference in my own real time life - - I listened to Mercy Me tell me what it was that I needed to do. I needed to LET IT GO.

    Some of the lyrics to the song tell you that you were made for something so much better than what you're doing now. You don't have to assume you're only worth what others say you're worth. You don't have to accept what others think you should accept as part of your plan; God has a better plan!  You just "Gotta Let it Go" and let God have it. That's exactly that I decided to do.  Basically, someone said something about me that wasn't true, and it got blown out of proportion.  God knew there was nothing to it, and so did I.  I let it go, I let God have it, and the other side figured it out for themselves too; there was no "there" there.  It started out ugly, but ended well.  What I have now is time to write, time to think, time to study, time to do what I need to do before I do the rest of my time.  There comes a time when we know things need to end; and they do.

    I may have mentioned it before in another blog, but it deserves to be mentioned again. I have every intention of moving back to Scotland and trying to be a good role model and would-be permanent resident of the Kingdom of Fife.  I have to jump through a few hoops to make that happen, and I can't even get started until after the first of the year (2022) but it will happen, and before it does I'll have taken the series of Securities Industry Essential tests and exams that I need for proper licensures and certificates to perform stock trading either as an individual broker or as part of a group of broker / dealers who work collectively but independently. I want to remain independent if at all possible when I arrive. I may have to be a part of an investment group here in the States for 6 months before making that leap, but it will happen, and it will be so very wonderful when it does. 

    Trust me when I say money isn't everything, peace and security, love, friendship, relationships and of course dogs, are so much more important than money, but and however, money is needed for paying bills and buying tickets to fly away.  As a stock broker I'll earn literally twice as much as I ever did as a teacher; that withstanding, I will also have an opportunity to educate, but it won't be in the discipline of Literature and/or Composition. I'll educate those who want or need to trade options, stocks, bonds, and/or invest in mutual funds. My goal is to become so good at what I do that I can trade for myself of course, but also for my kids, my family friends, etc. I don't want to branch out to work for just anyone until I know what I'm doing and won't put anyone at risk. Risk is a part of investments, sure, but I don't want to be the reason someone lost their entire life's savings. That would devastate me. 

    New beginnings are often difficult, but not for me, not this time. I'm literally waking up in my jammies, staying in my jammies, making coffee, walking the dog and settling into the cushy comfy over stuffed chair to write in my journal at about the time 2nd hour begins at the schools in my city. I sleep right through their announcements, and I never again have to worry about going through the motions rather than actually trying to teach someone something. You just can't understand that statement unless you've tried to do it. This ain't my momma's little red school house. That's for sure.

    Oh, and being off work and at home also gives me the time it will take to murder people - - You know, in my mind! I can murder people every day now just to keep my mind jumping with new and exciting ways to dispose of a would-be body, but it's all fake you know. I hope you know it's FICTION. I don't actually go out and murder anyone (it's still early in the day, you never know).  Interestingly, the last person I murdered was a good friend, and he's doing well in the real world. He knows I killed him off recently in my mind and even in a published blog. He understands that what he did to piss me off absolutely deserved his tumbling demise and that head-long plunge he "accidently" took from atop Arthur's Seat in my beloved city of Edinburgh was all in fun. He knows he survived in real life, and that's all that matters. Who cares if his guts were splattered all over the prickly rock face of the crag? The birds will feast! Fictional birds of course, not real birds.  He knows I would never harm a hair on his sweet face.

    I hope the rest of you have a great and eternally wonderful evening. I'm about to go walk the dog and see if I can find a really good stone to cover up the half a torso I left in the fridge to thaw out before feeding it to the woodland creatures living in the pond nearby. Rocks help with smaller bits you know, they hold them in place while the gators and the turtles take their nibbles.  (FICTION!  Did you read the part about gators in the pond? FICTION!)  She smiles that smile because she knows she can.  All I can say is THANK YOU JESUS, for letting me get the peace I needed and the time I needed to make a better me out of me. 

Arthur's Seat:  Photo Credit: TripSavvy

The Vlogger!! Shaun Alexander.

 Oh, you know, from time to time, you run into the coolest most amazing people either in person or online, and you just have to tell the world about them. I'm telling you all about Shaun Alexander, a wonderful Scottish blogger out of my favorite city of Edinburgh.  Shaun is not only a super sweet (and handsome) bearded man from my favorite spot on Earth, he's laughable, loveable, fun-loving, witty, charming, and sorry ladies, he's 100% absolutely married too!  He's married to an amazingly pretty woman from Brazil I think, and you can learn all about her, his dog, his travels, his life -- he is so open, and so willing to talk about everything. He even talks about his person struggles with psoriasis. This is a really awesome guy!

    The vloggers I have watched over the past few years have mainly been self-serving and basically showing off for the camera and trying to get their viewers to be a little jealous or envious really, but Shaun doesn't do that. I mean YES, he does travel, go places, see things, share events with us, and he just happens to live the life that so many people would dream of, but he's made good choices in life to be able to do this.  He doesn't have to share his world with us. We are so blessed and silly-happy that he does though. I'm telling you, I can't wait each and every day to see if he's posted another fun video from chasing birds on Portobello Beach, to swimming in the cool clean waters of Croatia! He's living the life!

    You can catch Shaun's vlog on Instagram at www.instagram.com/shaunvlog or you can see him on YouTube at www.youtube.com/shaunvlog.  He's on Facebook too. Check him out, listen, learn, laugh, and live. He'll be happy to chat with you if he has time, but he's just so busy being free and fun these days. At least you can always be sure that he's trying to reach as many of his viewers as he can, but currently with over 176K followers on YouTube and more than 22K on Instagram, there is really no way for him to pin down every note or comment to be able to respond. Maybe most of your questions can be answered in the vlogs themselves!  One of my favorite longer vlogs was a recent account of how his family home, the home where his grandparents lived, was being sold and he was taking one last look around it for memory sake. He told us about the days he played on the swings and in the yard with animals and family. He reminisced about the good days and the times that seemed eternal. It was really sweet. I hated that his family was going through the changes they were, but it is something we all face now and again.

    You'll find Shaun to be so interesting as he brings you latest and up to date information about Scotland, particularly areas around and surrounding the capital city of Edinburgh. He takes you on day trips to castles, beaches, fun places, and you get to see the real events going on around him. He keeps you up to date on the shows being filmed in Scotland, primarily Outlander, and you'll find out tidbits about the cast, crew, filming, and locations that perhaps you didn't realize. It's so much fun. I am not usually one to get into "unboxing" or the opening of gifts and secret sendings from people all around the world, but everyone love Shaun so much, and they send him really interesting things to open.  He had a really fun opening event with his sister, where they opened foods and candies from people mostly in the United States. I guess I don't think of other people not knowing what Bottle Caps are, or what Red Hots are all about.  It made me laugh.

    Well, that's about it on Shaun. Drop in on him from time to time through the videos and give him your opinions on things. He's very open, very intellectual, interested in what you have to say, and he won't say things to please people; he tells it like he sees it, and oh yes, he's Scottish, so you could just listen to him talk all day long! Be good to yourself and give Shaun a try!  Tell him I sent you!  You'll love him and want to share his links with everyone you know!

Photo Credit: Shaun Alexander (ShaunVlog)

Don't Tread of Me!

 "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic, for which it stands, one nation UNDER GOD, indivisible with liberty and justice for ALL."  

 I stand firm on my personal beliefs and Constitutional rights.  No one, and I do mean NO ONE, will ever take my First Amendment right from me, and God help anyone who tries to squash my Second Amendment right. I am an American. God bless the U.S.A. 

DO NOT TREAD ON ME! (I bite)

Photo Credit:  US Made Decals