Eric and the Red Shoes

     Elsie returned seconds later from the kitchen with yet further
refreshments and breezed past Eric towards her four sisters interrupting
his view of Jane. His gaze over Jane's gently undulating breasts was
immediately replaced by an over generous bottom hiding beneath a floral
skirt. stylish,Eric likened the view to a partial eclipse. His mother had not been
diet conscious and was considered by many to be a jolly plump lady with
the generous proportions being attributed particularly to her lower half.
    She leaned over to offer the ‘witches' a selection of cream cakes.
    "Erclairs, doughnuts, custard slices and cream horns,, she announced,
thrusting a neatly arranged silver tray towards them with the contents
arranged so artistically that removal of any one item would destroy the
perfect symmetry of the confectionery delights.
    Each of the sisters in turn removed a single custard slice, Eric's favourite.
He twisted left and right trying to assess from his limited view of the tray
if he was going to be lucky enough to have the same, after all it was his
birthday.
    J ane was next to be presented with the tray.
    "Custard slice dear?" Elsie inquired.
    Jane just looked and whispered something about being on a diet.
    "Oh come on Jane, the custard slices are so light you wo的know
you've had one" Elsie suggested.
    Eric, quickly spotting there was only one left, immediately leapt to
J ane's defence.
    "Don't force her mum if she is looking after her figure".
    Eric's mind raced on, 'so lightyou won't know you've had one' he thought.
'Ifyou do, 1 certai均won 't, diet 0γ no bloody diet'
    "Oh go on J ane, they were fresh this morning" Elsie suggested, as if
that made any difference.
    "Ok then" Jane whispered; "May I have one of those cream horns
Auntie?"
    Elsie rotated the tray slighdy to save J ane having to reach across the
doughnuts. With long slender fingers she delicately removed a cream horn
and placed it carefully on the paper napkin covering her tea plate, which
rested neatly on her narrow thighs.
    Eric sighed, a great sigh, he would get his custard slice after all, or he
would have done had it not been for Daisy. A bit of a stupid name for a
dog Eric had thought, but then Daisy wasn't really a dog in his eyes, more
like a scruffy scrubbing brush on legs.

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It Was An International Event.

    In Ocrober of 2005 we had our biggest barbeque yet. People came from all over
America and the world. Represented from out of the country were Canada, Denmark，
England and Scotland. People were also there from Arizona,Stylishplus,California, Rhode Island and New York. i drove down to Bob's on the evening of Thursday, October 6th to be there on Friday so i could pick up Paul and Glynis, a couple arriving from England.Already there were Neil and sandy from Canada, susey from England, Jean from Scotland and Ron and Lili from Rhode Island.
    This was also a specia1 occasion. Von was there from Arizona and Vivi was from Demnark. In the early part of 2003 Von and Vivi met in my music room and hit it off we11 enough that they decided they wanted to meet. So Von traveled to Denmark and spent a month with Vivi. They fel1 in love and it was decided that Vivi would come to America and live with Von. After a bit Vivi had to go back to Denmark for a time while the arrangement were being made. Then Von went back to Denmark and on October 8th,2004 they were married in the city of Holstebro. Since Vivi was now Von's wife she could come back with him to America to stay. Their first year anniversary fe11 on the day of the barbeque émd they did me the great honor of spending it with us.
    After we ate and before we started karaoke i invited Von and Vivi to take the
dance floor. i popped in a specia1 cd i had burned for the occasion and played Dina11 Shore's version of the Anniversary Waltz. It was wonderful to watch them twirl around on the dance floor, and everyone applauded when they were done. Then of course my smarta1ec side had ro kick in. Von is really tall and Vivi is very short, kind of like the old time cartoon characters Muu and Jeff. So when the dance was finished i grabbed the mic and quipped,"and there fo1ks you have the long and the short of it." Everyone broke into laughter and the fun was kicked off for the evening.
    Because we were going to have people from around the world, i sent emails to all the major media corporations inviting them ro attend. This would bave been their chance to get perspective vievi'point on world events from average people who didn't live in America. But i guess they were too busy spreading the gloom of Hurricane Katrina and the war in Iraq to bother with sma11 timers like us. Since the topic of our "Summit Meeting" was music and not an issue as important as global warming, we were not newsworth1y。 Too bad, because sometimes in the midst of a11 the bad news,i believe folks would like to hear about a "feel good" event. Ah we11, life goes on.

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Do They Drink That Much Water In Las Vegas?

    My next destination would be Las Vegas, Nevada, about four hours to the northwest of Flagstaff. i had to drive across the Hoover Dam on my way .The first time 1 had driven across the dam was while i was trucking in 1991. Back then the lake's surface level was at 1180 feet above sea level, down almost fifty feet from it's maximum capacity level of 1229 feet. When 1 had crossed the dam again in 2007 it was down another fifty feet at 1130. This time when i drove across the dam the leve1 was down even further， now being at 1112 feet and almost 120 feet lower than full capacity: Lake Mead was now at forty six percent of it's full capaciry, and it's pretty apparent that they will have to do something soon or Las Vegas is going to turn to dust and blow away. I got into town and checked into dle motel. This is where i have to say that the phrase "Location is everything" was painfully apparent. i stayed at the exact same motel chain
in Las Vegas as i had in Albuquerque. But where they had charged me sixty six dollars for two nights in Albuquerque，they were charging me sixty eight dollars for one night in Las Vagas， more than double thee price. well it's only money. That's easy for you to say ,you don't have any expenses. I had a few minutes to freshen up before I was to go meet Maryal1n (Lexie89101) and Nancy (NanDevl) for dinner. But the meeting never took place. Nancy had gotten her days mixed up and thought i was going to be in town the next night. i left a message that i was there but she never checked her machine that night. i didn't have Maryann's number, Nancy was the liason. But it didn't matter, Maryann had been called to work and couldn't have made it anyway Nancy promises that the next time i come through Las vagas， she'll cook dinner and even make me cornbread, one of my favorites. i spent the night in the motel room channel surfing on the tv.we were in Las vagas,Iwanted to go out and party, gamble and ogle the cocktail waitresses. Yeah well, remember that money thing? Hey, you can't win if you don't play. Uhhuh, you can't lose either. When you come up with a get rich scheme that works, we'll talk about going out and playing.

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Why Would You Do This

    Right now you're living large and you're loving it. Life
is good and the living is easy. But what if you could live
that lovely large life and use less? (And wasn't that a tongle
twister?) What if you could scale it back a bit and save a little for
later? Wouldn't that be a good thing? Let's find out.
    When 1 talk about "saving" things, I'm talking about saving
money, effort and resources, for the most part. 0 f course, by
saving these things, you are also saving your environment just
a little bit as well. You're cutting down on pollution and waste
and landfills and smog, not only where you are, but where all of
the things we buy and use are made to begin with: at the power
plants and factories around the world. A little savings here is
also a little savings there, and it all adds up. Or not, if you don't.
And let's not forget: everything you don't buy is something
that didn't have to be shipped,shoe store often halfway around the
world , just to get to you. That makes for even more
resource savings and less pollution. Sometimes eddoing nothing
is something. How Zen-like.
    Once you sort conserving things, all of the different kinds
of savings start to pop up all over the place. It gets to be a bit of
a game: How much can 1 save? How many ways can 1 save how
many different things? What can 1 save next? For ]oAnn and me,
it all started out so small and innocent, we hardly noticed we' d
started at all. Yes, then it all got out of hand, but that came much
later. It all started with ]oAnn's morning walk.
    Every morning, my wonderful wife gets out and walks three
miles. She's done it for years, and everyone sees her and knows
her as The Girl That Walks. On her way home from that morning
walk, she always buys a newspaper at a rack just a couple of
blocks from our house. 5he does that every weekday morning.
On the weekends, we usually walk out to breakfast at Tory's café,
just half a mile or so from our house. Along the way, we buy a
newspaper. On Sundays, we buy two (two different ones).
The thing is, buying a newspaper every day and two
on Sunday starts to add up pretty quickly when you goω
throw them away. And let's face it: yesterday's newspaper
is today's puppy trainer. It is, quite literally, old news.
50 what do you do with them all the very next day?
    It came to this: the newspapers were heavy, and
throwing them away - that is, bagging them and drag
ging them out to the curb for pickup - was a chore. There had
to be a better way. There was. 5everallocal churches and all of
the local recycling centers offer newspaper recycling bins. All we
had to do was save up our newspapers and take them to one of
these recycling bins every so often (every couple of weeks or so,
as it turns out). No more heavy trash bags, no more dragging
boat anchors of newsprint to the curb. Life just got a little better,
and all we did was put a big tub for the old newspapers out in
the garage, right by the door into the house. 50 it began, and the
truth comes out: she started it. It was a11 JoAnn's fault. (Thank
you, my dear.)
    Now, initially, that's a11 we did, and, yes, it actua11y did cost
us a little more to recycle the newspapers. JoAnn would put the
old newspapers in the truck (they're heat" remember?) and
drive to the recycle center to dump them in a bin. 5he did this
as she was running other errands, but still, energy (and therefore
money) was used. C'est la vie. It was probably less energy
(and money) than the big garbage truck was using, and we were
keeping those newspapers out of the localland and/or incinerator.
lt was a start.
    When most folks talk about savings, they mean saving
money, and that's OK. That's a great way to keep track of what
you're saving, as money saved usually does translate rather directly
into energy and resources saved as we11. Take our monthly
power bi11, for example. It was slowly creeping up and up and
then up some more. 1 didn't think we were using more power
every month - it was just costing more to use what we did.
As our monthly bill began to top $100 on a regular basis, 1 got
focused. Se.started making changes in how our house was run and the
things that ran in it. We changed light bulbs, unplugged stuff we
didn't need, and added things that would help. Over time, that
power bill came down. Way down. Despite the ever-increasing
rates charged for power, 1 don't remember the last time we had
a power bill over $35. It's been years. How's that for savings?
You can do this. You can save some serious money, just through
a little conservation and even less effort. It's easy. And wait until
you hear how much we're saving on our garbage bill. Go team!
    Look, I've already said that 1 don't consider myself any sort
of tree-hugging green freak, but apparently I'm alone in that assessment.
Maybe 1 am a green freak. All of my friends seem to
think so, anyway. Still, we have, at last count，have functioning
gasoline engines in our garage: a full-sized pickup truck, a 500cc
motorcycle, a 200cc motor scooter (with sidecar!) , a gas lawn
mower, and a gas chain saw (because an electric chain saw does
you very little good when the power is out after a storm). We sure
don't sound so green now, do we? Yes, 1 ride my bicycle to work,
and }oAnn walks to the grocery store, but we also put some miles
on those gas-fired infernal combustion machines. We watch TV
and 1 fuss in the garage and we do all of those things suburbanites
do, we just do them using a little less. And if that's all it takes
to be green, then, yes, we are green. I've just never thought of
ourselves as a11 at green. If we ever have the guts to ditch the
truck, then 1'11 say we're green. Don't hold your breath.
    Still, every little bit helps, and when you're looking at over
six billion people on planet earth,ladies shoes a little bit of change can make
a big difference if enough people do it. We're not doing much, but
we're doing our part. We're using less, living small, and helping
to maybe not po11ute the planet quite so much as we used to. It's
no big deal. It's not a major effort on our part, it's just how we
live our lives these days. But would be amazing if everyone
did it. Wow.
    We live in suburbia, surrounded by even more suburbia for
about fifty miles in every direction. Except for west. Nothing but
the (stunningly beautiful) Gulf of Mexico out that way. Living
as we do in endless suburbia, one of the big issues here, with so
many people, is the question of what to do with a11 the garbage.
It's a good question. A very valid question. An important, immediate
question. The two or three million people who live around
here can generate a considerable heap of trash in fairly short
order, and that's on a good day. What do you do with it al1? Where
does it all go? We have to answer those questions over and over
again, day after day, and again tomorrow.
    The county where 1 live operates one of the largest garbageburning
power plants in the country. lt's an impressive sight to
see, and it makes me proud to know that we're doing that, and
have been for years. This county was green before green was
coo1. 1 like that, green freak that 1 apparently am. sti11, as you
wel1 know, just because you burn something doesn't mean it
goes completely away. You stil1 have to deal with the ash and the
things that don't (or shouldn't) bum. Around here, that means
landhil1s. And around here, landfi11s can be a bit problematic.
There's just not that much "around here" left.
    We live, you see, in the second sma11est county in the state of
Florida. Close to one mi11ion people live on just 280 square miles
of lovely, semi-tropical sandbar between the Gulf of Mexico and
Tampa Bay. That's a lot of people on not much sand. 50 where
does all the garbage go? What doesn't go to the power plant goes
to the landfi11, and the land is about full. Then what do we
do? Then we recycle like crazy. Then we a11 recycle like JoAnn
and 1 are recycling right now. i fugure J oAnn and 1 recycle about
95 percent of everything we use. That makes for very little garbage.
(1 figure we generate about one small bag of garbage a
month. Maybe.) If everyone did that, we wouldn't have to worry
about landfills so much. Wouldn't that be nice? Maybe some
day. Maybe you can help. Where you live can't be much different
from where we live. All communities have to worry about what
they do with their garbage, and we're all running out of room.
Maybe it's time to do things a little differently. A little better. A
little smaller.
   

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A New Birth

    1n many ways, the voices of these new and yet so old Catholics can be seen
as calling forth a new witness. We see ourselves as "a chosen race, a royal
priesthood, a holy nation,stylishplus, God's own people" who work to "declare the
wonderful deeds of him who called (us) out of darkness into his marvelous
light. " Throughout our existence in the United States we were seen as "no
people" but tod a African American Catholics affirm that we "are God's
people"; once little mercy was given us "but now (we) have received mercy"
fronl God on high (1 Peter 2:9-10) . As part of that witness, we recognize the
necessity of exposing the miseducation received by all, of whatever race,
who dwell in this land regarding the contributions of our black and Catholic
foremothers and forefathers to the present status of the United States.
The truth of our hi stor只b oth in this and other adopted lands, and in our
n10therland as weU, tTIust be recovered, for that hi story reveals th e proud and
distin ctive heritage that is ours, one whi ch predates the Greek and Roman
empires as well as Christopher Columbus. Black Catholics must also tell our
story within our church, a story that has as part of its r ichness a cheri shed
role in the life of the church dating back to Africa. For it was our Afri can
foremothers and forefathers who received the teachings of Christ from the
church's earliest beginnings; they who nurtured and sheltered those teachings,
preserving thetTI from the depredations of those who were not believers;
they who received, revitalized, and re-Christianized those teachin gs, too
often distorted at the hands of their wOllld-be masters, in the new lands of
the Ameri cas. Cyprian Davis has written of those early years of Afri can
history:
    Long before Christianity arrived in the Scandinavian countries, at least a
century before St. Patrick evangelized lreland, and over two centuries before
St. Augustine wou ld arrive in Canterbury, and almost seven cen turies before
the conversion of the Poles and the establishment of the kingdom of Poland,
this mountainous Black kingdom (Ethiopia) was a Catholic nation with its
own liturgy .its own spectacular religious art, its own monastic tradition, its
saints, and its own sp irituality.This cherished heritage lnust once again be brought forth, exposed to the light of a new day, and shared with all of the church catholic.
    One can arguably say that the continued presence of black Catholics
in the ROlnan Catholic Church in the United 5tat es serves as a subversive
memory, one that turns all of reality upside down, for it is a memor y of hope
brought forth from pain, of perseverance lnaintained in the face of bloody
opposition, of faith born of tortured struggle.6 It is the memory of a people
forced to bring forth life from conditions conducive only to death, much as
Christ himself was restored to life after a scandalous death. Ours is a memory
of survival against all odds. It is the memory of a people, born in a strange
and often hostile land, paradoxically celebrating Christ 's victory over death
as a sign of God's promise of their eventualliberation froln a harsh servitude
imposed by their fellow Christians. Today, black Catholics are affirming that
we are no longer sojourners, we are no longer just passing through; we are
here to stay and intend to celebrate our presence as only we can.

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HOW TO RAISE MY PKS TO KEEP THE FAITH

    If I were to ask one hundred people to complete the sentence,
"Preachers' Kids (PKs) are ," the vast majority would answer,
"The worst of all!"
    But then, everyone knows PKs (or Vicars' Kids insert your
own term here) got that way by playing with the Deacons' Kids.
    However, could there be some truth to the stereotype? According
to an informal study conducted in Texas, some 80 percent of preachers'
kids are no longer connected to the church as adults.
    I wouldn't be a good preacher's wife if I didn't brag on
my husband, so I'll tell you something he did recently that serves as
a perfect example.
    Recently our church celebrated Pastor Appreciation Day. We
belong to a loving, generous fellowship, so this day was one we
wholeheartedly enjoyed. During the Sunday evening service, Luke
gave a ((State of the Union" address in which he thanked the church,
let the members know our zeal had not diminished, and communicated
how very happy we remain in our ministry. (A little side
note the people to whom you are ministering appreciate knowing
when you are happy.)
    Then he said something I hadn't anticipated but had me almost
giving a "whoop whoop" from my seat: "Thank you for loving my
family, especially my children. I know my kids aren't perfect, and I
don't expect them to be. What's more is that I really believe you don't
demand this of them any more than you do your own children. We
appreciate that you let them be who they are without making them
feel they have to meet a different standard. This means the world to
us, and we just wanted you to know."
    My man is brilliant.
    Whether Luke realized what he'd done or not and I'm sure he
didn't because he doesn't have the Manipulation Gene he thanked
the congregation in advance for grace. While Luke and I strive toward
a happy medium in parenting, we have high expectations of our kids
and are working diligently to instill the concept of accountability in
them.
    Because man's motivations
are not always pure, we can fall back to the happy medium in
seeking to meet expect ations and find balance between not caring
at all what is said of us and sacrificing our children on the altar of
approval.
    Following this general rule of thumb will manifest itself in the
lives of your children and the church in this way: When your congregation
knows your main goal in the raising of your children is
to have them love God and respect His house and His people, then
their criticisms will be in love instead of contempt for what you are
not doing. I've seen this played out with my very own kids. Luke
and I have communicated in many different ways that we need help
and treasure anyone willing to enter into a Titus relationship with
our family. What rve seen is the people who love our family gently
guide my kids and then consider their misdeeds dealt with instead
of telling me every little time they act up in Children's Church or
run through the sanctuary. It's a great arrangement, and our family
is stronger for it.

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We are called to hope.

    A life in ministry ultimately calls us to one thing: a hope for
a greater glory than current circumstances reveal. I can't think of
a higher charge than the invitation to participate in God's good
intentions toward His creation. Sarah considered God faithful in
His promises toward her, and because of that, she was able to look
past the difficult years of childlessn ess and hold the manifestation of
God's blessing in her own arms.
    "I don't know of any other occupation that my husband
could have that would require me to be a part of the 'package
deal' (for free) except the ministry. That took some getting
used to!" Sherry @ Life at the Parsonage
    "It's easy to spot a woman who's happy for and proud of
her husband's life/accomplishments/calling. It may not be
easy for her to 'follow' when she is in the background with
young children (early on), but she is proud of her man's walk
and character. That is a beautiful thing to
(layperson) @All Things Work Together
    I still have no idea what possessed me the day I went shopping
and managed to migrate from leggings with an oversized tunic to my
first birdhouse-embroidered sweater and elastic-waist slacks. (Slacks!
That word still makes me cringe!) To complete the look, I purchased
a pair of sensible loafers. I was swollen with pride to have found
something that made me look so religious and couldn't wait to get
home so I could model this new outfit for Luke.
    As I twirled around amid the birds and kittens on my fetching
little cardigan, I asked him one of the most dangerous questions a
wife can pose to her husband: ((How do I look?" Without a moment's
hesitation he answered with the fail-safe phrase every guy keeps
tucked away for such a time as this: ((That's nice, honey." (Luke
is such a trooper. He smiled graciously right through the look of
confusion on his face.) I remember feeling transformed as I looked
at this new woman in the mirror. One pleasing word came to
mind appropriate.
    And that was the guiding theme of my new life as the wife of
a minister-in-training. Was I dressing appropriately? Acting appropriately?
Speaking appropriately? I was determined I wasn't going
to embarrass Luke or prove God made a mistake by entrusting His
man to me. I continued my Extreme Makeover by toning down my
loud-laughing, much-talking, annoying personality and adding a bit
of "Christianese" to my conversations. <<Dinner tonight was SUCH
a BLAST!" turned into a demure <<Bless you for welcoming us in
your home." Not that I wasn't blessed, mind you. That just wasn't a
genuine way personally for me to express it.
    In responses to the survey on my blog regarding the pressures
of ministry, I was absolutely appalled to hear that one of my sisters
actually served alongside her husband in a congregation that
expected her to be involved in the women's ministry board as well as
to attend every meeting and function. They wanted to be so clear in
their expectations that they wrote this into the church bylaws!
    My first reaction was not one I'd like to detail here. However,
I will share my second reaction: "Well, at least they had the guts to
admit on paper what many expect in principle." It's interesting to
me the insanely loud ways in which people attempt to fill biblical
silence.

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