My Mama is So Proud!

You know the Bible 100%!

 

Wow! You are awesome! You are a true Biblical scholar, not just a hearer but a personal reader! The books, the characters, the events, the verses - you know it all! You are fantastic!

Ultimate Bible Quiz
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I was inspired by Everyday Mommy to test my Bible knowledge. Go check it out. Hint: Mary and Martha didn't live in San Fransisco. I'm just sayin'.

What are YOU doing this weekend?

Me? I'll be in Irving, TX, at the WholeHearted Mother Conference. It's a couple of days away from home and the kids where I'll think about, pray about, and generally obsess on my home and kids.

Honestly, I'm a little afraid. Isn't that weird? I've been to WHM Conferences before, and I've been blessed and challenged by Sally Clarkson's writing over the years. I am kind of scared that I'm fixing to get whapped between the eyes with all the ways I'm bottoming out as a wife, mother, homemaker, Christian, human...

I've been disappointed in myself lately, and I feel acutely aware of some things that must not stay the same. I hope to get some measure of encouragement this weekend and not come away feeling like I've had a hundred lashes with a wet noodle. I doesn't help that more than anything else, I just want to bail on the whole thing and stay home. The friend that originally suggested that we go together went on to recruit a some of her other friends (ladies I know casually), and so I feel entirely superfluous and I just want to stay home.

It occurred to me that it could be the enemy trying to keep me from being just where I need to be and getting exactly what I need from the Lord and from fellowship with other moms. Or maybe I'm having one of my rare acute attacks of good sense and I just need to back out and let the other gals go and have a good time.

Man, I hope nobody clicked over here looking for funny.

Love One Another

This made me cry. Go ahead, read it. I'll wait.

Need a tissue?

Who dropped the ball here? His family? If he has any, yes.

What about those neighbors? Was there a still, small voice whispering to any of them to lay down a little bit of their lives for this created-in-His-image fellow human?

I don't know anything about this man except what is in the press release. Maybe he was cranky or mean. Maybe he was evil. It happens. But a YEAR! No one knew for A YEAR! Didn't he miss a doctor's appointment or 20? He was diabetic and blind. The pharmacist surely missed him after A YEAR of not filling his prescriptions. Surely. Maybe? Hmm.

Are we really that busy and isolated? It it really Somebody Else's job to care for the elderly, weak and, yes even the crumudgeons? I hope this man knew God's gift of salvation by grace through faith in Christ, and that he hasn't given his earthly tent a moment's thought since being received into Glory. Oh, how I hope.

The take home here is to connect. Notice. Ask. Care.

"Whatever you've done to the least of these...you've done to Me."

My Fame is Assured (or, Romancing the Watch, The Missing Treasures of Divan)

***Updated with relevant links! Thanks, Brenda!***

I had such a brilliant and seemingly out of character idea, I thought it must be Divine Inspiration: The Couch. Or, in my case, The Couches.

I'm Southern, y'all (see?) know that. We Southern Girls (G.R.I.T.S.) collect things. I collect couches. Sofas, divans, settees. I have four in our 4-bedroom house. I'm not even kidding.

I started thinking that The Most Perfect Watch Ever Made might be in the crevices of one of the couches. So I looked.

Egads, ya'll!

First, because I know the who-shot-JR-esque suspense is KILLING YOU, no, the watch wasn't in any of the four couches.

Next, and this is the good news, I found 6 crochet hooks. 6! When you add them to the elevendy-nine in my crochet drawer, I have enough for my own Plaque of Recognition in the Crochet Hall of Fame and Museum. When they open it.

I'm not as thrilled at this moment as I would be if I were sporting my WATCH, but I'm pretty happy about the hooks.

And now, the G-rated version of the rest of the couch contents: We're pigs! The crumbs! The Chips! The hair clips! 5 spoons, two flashlights and the table from the Dora Dollhouse. A tv remote and fully 7 socks belonging to various members of the Clem Domicile.

To sum up, no watch, much crud and CROCHET HOOKS! Maybe I'll wait to tell my sweetie about the watch until he asks me why I'm not wearing it to the Induction Ceremony...

LOST, or I'm a Loser

First, my abject apologies to anyone who came for a discussion of the tv show LOST. Sorry. I'm not your gal. I tried to watch an episode onceapunsa, but it was a no go. I don't know why. Maybe because it seemed so dadgummed REALISTIC and PLAUSIBLE and stuff. I need LOTS of fantasy and wild imaginings and things that could never happen in real life. American Idol, anyone?

This post is about my watch. Have you seen it? It's a gold, Citizen Eco-Drive ladies' watch, WHICH I DEARLY LOVE. It's just gone. I'm heartsick about it.

I do not have a good track record with watches. My sweet husband, back when he was my dashing suitor, gave me a beautiful gold watch. I lost it. About five years later, he bought me another one. Gone. And now, 10+ years later, the Eco Drive, the most perfect watch ever, has disappeared. I don't have the heart to tell my guy that I've done it again. I've prayed, beseeching the Lord, begging for just one more chance. So far, nothing.

Now, in my jewelry box at this moment, there are three watches. Cheap, scratched, worn, decidedly UNperfect watches. They taunt me. I think they know where the Eco Drive is, and they're just not talking. But the nice watches? The ones that say Classy, With-it Mama? Vanished. Could it be that they just couldn't live the lie any longer and have found their way in some Guideposts-worthy adventure to their rightful owners? You know, the ladies with cute hair who manage to look fresh-faced and perky with just a little lip gloss. The ones with the classic, bacon-grease-stain-free wardrobe, complete with understatedly elegant jewelry.

ACK! The jewelry! That's it! They were driven away by my painted hoop earrings and add-a-bead necklaces!

So, who do YOU think I look like?

While I was reading this at BooMama's, I decided to check out the blog written by Beth Moore and her daughter Amanda. I had the same reaction as Mrs. BooMama to the initial revelation, I'm just nowhere near as cute and funny about it. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, there's this Celebrity Lookalike thing of Beth Moore, which sparked some interesting discussion in the comments and and insightful post by Amanda. It was all spiritual-y and bless-yer-li'l-pointed-head-like. I was just fascinated by the celeb lookalike thing. So I did it. And here's the result:

Then I did it again, using a different picture:

Mama needs a nerve pill.

Y'all are good enough to stop by and comment on this weirdness, so I feel like I should give you something new to look at from time to time. I don't mind. Really. It's the least I can do, and I mean that in the most literal way possible. It's staggering how many things I can manage to not do just to get more silliness arranged and displayed so fetchingly on this world-wide interweb of ours.

I don't have any information on the author of this little ditty, but I'd like for everyone to put on their character shoes and go sit in the surrey. You know. The one with the fringe on top.

Now, let's all sing together:

SNO-klahoma, where the cold front's sweepin' down the
plain,
And the piles of sleet beneath your feet
Follow right behind the freezing rain.

SNO-klahoma, ev'ry night my honey lamb and I
Travel home from work and hope some jerk
Doesn't wreck our car in passing by.

We know we belong to the land
But it could use more salt and more sand!

And when we say
Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
We're only sayin'
You're slick as snot SNO-klahoma,
SNO-klahoma, Oy Vey

In the interest of full disclosure, and so that no one feels misled, I would like to answer a very good question posed by Grafted Branch, a blogger I read daily and greatly admire. To wit:

"Grafted Branch said... Hey Clemntine...I just looked at your iSight pic again. Now, do you really just have ONE extra-large front tooth, or is that the camera distorting things? :)"


I do not, in fact, have ONE extra-large front tooth. What I do have is a little too much free time (HA! The pile of dishes testifies for the prosecution!), and the ability to be fascinated endlessly with minor feats of technology.

In case you were wondering, this ability does appear to be hereditary...














Along with the obvious dominant strain of remarkable good looks...

;~D.