tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26687969488749016302024-03-18T23:44:28.066-06:00Dear Ethel,This blog is written as letters to a friend. Life is a blessing. I enjoy both it's small and great gifts. I write about the rewards on my path. Have fun reading, I intend to have fun writing.Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.comBlogger302125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-12965825638020773652015-09-18T14:09:00.000-06:002015-09-18T14:22:47.316-06:00Biblical Proportions<br />
Last night while I was sitting on the sofa watching television a wet mouse staggered out from behind Husband's recliner and dropped dead in the middle of the carpet. Had it drowned?<br />
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This summer the valley has been invaded by rodents. I am talking a plague like invasion. I half keep expecting frogs next. No on in recent memory has seen so many nasty furry little creatures. We have never had voles, chipmunks or squirrels. One or two mice in the fall maybe but that is all. Not this year. Good grief. Rumor has it that a woman down the road has killed 125 voles in her yard. One hundred and twenty five. The mind boggles. We live about a mile from the forest edge. The chipmunks and squirrels stay in the woods. Not this year. I am currently watching a squirrel raid my bird feeder. Nobody in our little non-incorporated hamlet has ever seen a squirrel in "town". The chipmunks have about driven me nuts. They have eaten all my raspberries and strawberries. Husband finally built a cage around the strawberries. The uppity little things then sat on top the cage and chattered at me. The voles invaded my flower garden and ate all my tulip and lily bulbs. They also ate the roots of my old fashioned yellow rose by the front door and have I think killed it. They are currently chowing down on the roots of the ancient lilac bushes. I think they have met their match there. We have railroad ties all around the front yard. They have tunneled under them. It is like a vole subdivision. The neighbor has it worse than me. Her son was talking a shower when she heard blood curdling screams. Whole family raced to the bathroom to rescue the kid. He was standing naked, dripping and pointing to the floor of the still running shower. He was terrified. He is twenty-two. There in the shower bottom was a rat looking up at them and holding on to the inside of the drain grid for dear life. It had apparently come up through the plumbing. That is impossible, they have a septic tank. I hate them with a deadly hate that should shrivel them. <br />
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Back to the drowned mouse. In addition to the biblical rodent invasion we are having biblical downpours. We have an old house. The foundation is cement and rubble. Over time the cement has deteriorated leaving gaps in the rubble. I think the mice are getting in through that. I can't stand traps so I have poison bait all over the basement. I think the mouse boated in, found the bait, ate it and came upstairs seeking medical aid. Phooey.<br />
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And so it goes.<br />
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Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-40595506039234369892015-09-15T13:56:00.000-06:002015-09-15T13:56:36.438-06:00RainLong time no blog. No time like the present to get started again.<br />
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It is pouring rain at the minute. I need to be washing the bathroom walls but don't want to. Friend coming to visit and she deserves to shower unencumbered by dog hair. Dog sleeps in tub during thunderstorms. I feel like I am living in a kennel with a flush toilet. Maybe two large hairy dogs and two small hairy cats are too many for this small space. Anyhow, I am not washing walls. <br />
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Got a new tablet and have been playing around with it. Much easier to use than this old monster. I can't even get this old thing to turn on half the time. Claims its start up program is corrupted. Probably has athlete's foot also. Oh well, can't afford a new one.<br />
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Okay off to shower (in my shower, the one not occupied by the dog) and get the car fixed. Its engine light is on and won't go off. I need a million dollars to fix all this ancient stuff. <br />
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Toodles.Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-11422001432807634792015-02-13T11:17:00.000-07:002015-02-13T11:17:34.754-07:00Off Again On AgainI many have been absent from here for almost a year. Few external changes many internal changes. Dogs are fine, cats are fine HB(HoneyBunny) is fine. Mountain valley is full of snow. <br />
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I am maturing. About damn time some (me) would say. I have been pondering my mental, spiritual and emotional age against my chronological age. Very confusing, and humbling. <br />
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This all started when a favorite nephew commented I hadn't changed in twenty years. I was flattered and accepted the comment as a compliment. But...was it? Yes Nephew loves me and intended it to be a compliment, and, it unseated me. Am I still as dumb as I was at 38? Or 28? Or, God forbid 18? Sort of. Why?????<br />
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I do not learn from my sorrows, and they are legion, so I remain in a holding pattern. This pattern is common to many baby boomers. We have not had to intimately face war, famine, disease and death. So we don't grow up. Suffering grows you up. But to suffer you have to lean into the pain. This I have steadfastly refused to do. I avoid feeling pain at all costs. I obsess it away with whatever is to hand. I don't enter into suffering and my maturity is retarded.<br />
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If we let it agony strips away all of us and leaves God. (This is the purpose of pain). Not the rescuer God who will protect me from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, but the I AM of Job and the Passion of Christ. So...to grow up in Grace I am learning to feel my pain. I am trying to not eat my way out of it, to not watch my way out of it, to not work my way out of it, to not read my way out of it, to not procrastinate my way out of it. I stop what I am doing and lean into it as it washes over me. Very frightening. Surprise, surprise, God gives me the grace of courage to endure. So I do. Pain comes in waves. It is not constant. I didn't know that. Way less scary to endure if you know you will have help and it will come to and end. Until it comes again. <br />
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Take care, love Bea<br />
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<br />Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-91983380973904910642014-05-06T16:27:00.000-06:002014-05-06T16:27:04.775-06:00Fat AgainI was not going to write about my weight anymore, but here goes.<br />
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We just returned from a two week vacation to Arizona. I am sick and tired. No wonder. We traveled an average of six hours a day by car. We ate junk at weird hours. I haven't eaten a minnie mart hot dog in years. I ate four of them during our various trips. Along with canned chips and gelato in a nifty clear plastic container. I gained ten pounds in ten days. And now I can't quit eating this fake food. I am craving it. Ersatz protein bars, i.e. candy bars have become my breakfast fare as we had a bunch of them left over and I am too cheap to throw then out. Ditto microwave bacon. Bacon. I can't believe I am eating bacon let alone nuked bacon. And hamburgers, and onion rings, and peanut butter shakes, oh my. This is madness.<br />
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I feel like I am a thousand years old. I look like a million. No pun. I am so swollen up my shoes don't fit and I am beginning to worry about my socks. It is the salt. I mean it is the salt I am craving. I have given way to sugar and fat in my sojourn off the wagon but have maintained the low salt intake pretty well. Not anymore. I dreamed about jerky the other night. Maybe if I get sick enough I will return to healthy eating. I ate a hand full of lettuce this morning straight out of the bag. It was marvelous. I think I have turned a corner. Hope so. <br />
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Take care, BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-56539975573782402642014-04-01T16:01:00.000-06:002014-04-01T16:01:37.902-06:00Off Brand BeautyI hate spending money on beauty potions. They never work, and then I have this full bottle of stuff I spent a fortune on and am too frugal to throw out. I try to pawn the mirace cures off on friends but they have their own drawers full of failures and are reluctant to take on mine. What to do? I have recently started using the unliked products "off brand". <br />
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The lemon lightener face cream that broke me out is wonderful as hand lotion before bed. Smells great and I am telling myself it is lightening the brown spots on my hands. The body wash that made me itch is doing double duty as hand soap at the kitchen sink. The progesterone cream that didn't do a darn thing hormone wise is a nice light face cream. I am shaving my legs with the conditioner that weighed down my fine hair. Our shoes are fresh scented as a result of an asthma producing spray body powder. (I go outside to spray the shoes). I still haven't found a use for the numerous unopened lip glosses a friend sends me every Christmas. Ditto the numerous vitamins and supplements that give me heartburn. I did get a friend to leave the house with the high potency Biotin that gave me diarrhea. Biotin in high doses is supposed to keep your hair from thinning. The blackhead remover strips also work dandy as hair remover stips if glued to the upper lip. The peroxide toothpaste the dentist forbade me to use seems to work as blemish cream. I dab it on the pimple before bedtime and next morning, no pimple. And yes hemorrhoid cream smeared under the eyes does relieve puffiness. These are just a few of my off brand uses. My most major faux pas was prescription exfoliation cream. Cost me a hundred bucks for one little tube. It peeled my sensitive skin down to the bone. Was awful. That tortuous pricey cream sat in my medicine chest taunting me for five years before I found a use for it. I use it on my dry cracked heels. Works like a charm. I have the feet of a thirty year old. <br />
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If anyone has any other ideas for off brand use I am interested.<br />
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Next time, my homemade skin care products.<br />
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As ever, Bea<br />
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P.S. I am using the tinted sunscreen that made my face oily on my legs as a concealer for spider veins. <br />
<br />Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-82038591544019971832014-03-26T14:57:00.001-06:002014-03-26T14:57:38.704-06:00JusticeI was listening to a show on EWTN about birth control and abortion. The whole show impressed me but the part that stood out was when the host asked the guest what he thought would be the result of the thousands of abortions performed in this country since Roe vs. Wade. The guest very simply said, "euthanasia". Baby Boomers will be systematically killed off by the few children they allowed to survive. Good grief. Very Old Testament, an eye for and eye and a tooth for a tooth. <br />
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The guest then went on to explain his reasoning, not enough young workers willing or able to support social security when all of us retire, not enough young workers to take care of us as we become infirm, a culture (creat/ed by us) that despises the non-productive and non-beautiful and last but not least a culture (also created by us) that approves expedient routine murder of the helpless. <br />
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I believe God is loving and forgiving. What I don't know, is He also just? This is going to keep me up nights.<br />
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Take care, Bea. <br />
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Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-51660491389577301602014-03-19T15:53:00.000-06:002014-03-19T15:53:56.174-06:00Faith FullWe have two cats. Both are rescue cats. Abby was younger when we rescued her. Still had two of her baby teeth. Maybe the age of rescue makes a difference. I don't know. She is certainly different from skittish old Whomper who was pregnant and starving when we found her thirteen years ago.<br />
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This morning I was having a crisis of faith. Does God love us? If He loves us why do we have to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune? Is it just to teach us a lesson? Seems kind of sadistic. <br />
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Back to the cats. It was freezing here this morning. I had the heat turned down so it was not only cold outside but cold inside. The cats were chilly. I opened the curtains to let in some sun. Our sofa is right smack dab if front of a big picture window. It warms up first and fast. Abby was huddled in her basket, obviously cold. I picked her up and laid her on the sofa. She stretched out, took and abbreviated bath and was soon fast asleep. Whomper was also crouched in her basket. I attempted to pick her up. She tried to get away. I caught hold of her tail. She yowled and tried to scratch me. I did get hold of her but it was a struggle. As I walked toward the warm sofa she attempted to climb over my shoulder. She scratched my chest in the process and eventually jumped off my back. I gave up at this point. She went and hid under the bed in the totally unheated bedroom. There she remained for two hours while Abby snored in the sun. Whomper did finally come out but by then the sun was gone. <br />
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What was the difference between the two cats? Faith. Abby believed I had nothing but good in store for her and reacted accordingly. Whomper could have been living the life of Riley for the past thirteen years. We have tried to give her all the good things we could think of, but she seldom gets to experience the goodness of the gifts because she is so fearful. She does not trust us. She has no faith we mean her well. Every interaction is interpreted by her as sadistic. So, she freezes. <br />
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No surprise here, I am like Whomper. I lack faith. Turns out you can and should ask for it. Not a familiar concept for me. I thought you sort of had to gin it up on your own. Like positive thinking. Not very effective. <br />
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From this day forward I am asking straight out, "Please give me greater faith."<br />
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Amen. Bea.<br />
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<br />Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-84521711596577876972014-03-12T14:29:00.000-06:002014-03-12T14:29:57.082-06:00Time AgainHas been almost a year since I posted. I am probably talking to myself. Nothing unusual.<br />
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I am in the process of cleaning out my upstairs office. I have collected much stuff up there. One of the dusty boxes contains many, many photos. I spent last eve looking through them. Painful, very painful. I used to be happier. I was also fatter, thinner, fattest, thinnest, and fatter again. As I was viewing all those past images Honey Bunny looked over my shoulder and said, "cute." It was a picture of me at my fattest. What he saw was a smiling tan woman with her feet in the ocean. I saw a blob in pink hat. Must give us pause.... <br />
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Since moving to our snowbound valley I have been hopeless. I have not been able to gin up any cheerful expectations of the future. Why? <br />
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Immaturity. The blob in the pink hat was younger. She looked at life through American, Protestant, baby boomer, rose colored glasses. The smiling older woman with her feet in the snow now is on the cusp of seeing life through different lenses. It makes all the difference.<br />
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Next time: Grow Me Up God. God bless us everyone, Bea. Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-48522182551338620722013-02-13T15:56:00.000-07:002013-02-13T15:56:38.302-07:00MilitantGood grief, fifteen replies and only two people who read what I wrote. Ain't the Internet wonderful.<br />
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I am learning about self will power. I have been very muddled about this attribute. Mainly muddled because I believed I did not possess it. Or at least I did not possess it as a positive force. I believed I was willful. As in, "I will do what I want to do when I want to do it." That drive I have in spades. I thought of will power as a gift of God given to Saints and thin women. Obviously I was not gifted. I have changed my mind, for good.<br />
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I have free will. I can do what I want when I want to to it. I have choice. I can choose for good or bad. But...<em>I have to do battle to choose for good.</em> Doing bad is hardly choice at all. I have to fight for positive outcome will power. Most of my skirmishes are with me. I am truly at odds with myself. The enemy within? Not necessarily. Does one war upon a youngster? No, it just feels like it. Try saying no to a teenager who wants something you the adult deem harmful. Gad it is all out frontal assault, if it is not sniper fire or sabotage. I have not been willing to suffer battle fatigue so as to outgun my unruly childish/sinful self. No more. I can't win if I do not fight.<br />
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Why was I never willing to engage the enemy? Because I thought I'd lose. Train a child to be a victim and unless Grace intervenes you will always have a loser. Even if the person she is losing to is herself. <br />
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Grace has intervened for me. I am doing battle. New learning, I am not alone in my fight. If I am willing to set out sword raised, God comes to my aid. Grace, I get Grace. Who knew? Not me. I have never been willing to arrive at the battle line let alone contemplate engaging in the fight. Guess where I found my weapon of choice . In my mouth. "NO," is a sharp two edged sword. <br />
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This morning was tough for me. A family member is ill and I am bearing the brunt of the problem. It was snowing. The cat threw up in the unmade bed. We have a prowler. You know, life. The way I cope with life is to overeat. But, I vowed to God to give up sugar for Lent and my learning. I stood in front of the frigde contemplating its frugal contents. (It's Lent) Could I binge on apples? I was going in for the kill applewise when my still small voice said, "no." In the blink of an eye I thought, "you are not going to be able to fight this urge," and the phone rang. A friend said, "Stop what you are doing I'm coming over." I stopped. Grace. <br />
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I am finally willing to fight for myself by fighting with myself. Go figure. <br />
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Take care. Love Bea<br />
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Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-51819843226711118282013-01-31T16:15:00.000-07:002013-01-31T16:15:01.707-07:00Self GratificationLent is coming. I am so relieved.<br />
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I will get to give up television for a month and a half. I willl experience much during this time, and I will have no t.v. to clutter up what I am experiencing. It is like waking up from a long drugged sleep when I quit watching television. I notice for the first time in months what is going on around me. I get the house cleaned, the bills organized and paid and friends called or emailed. I plan and shop for our meals. I exercise. I read after supper and go to bed early. I suddenly have room in my life to live. <br />
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That stupid black box sucks up me and gives nothing back. I do realize that my television is like a gun, it is the user who is the problem. I avoid real life by watching fake life. I substitute passive reception for active learning. I am not the first one to recognize the connection between tube viewing and eating. I take in and get or give nothing back. It is all about me. Self gratification with diminishing returns. Except my weight that does not diminish.<br />
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I am fine. I am snowed under. A foot of snow fell this week. Oh well, this too shall melt. <br />
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I will be writing more...often.<br />
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love bea<br />
Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-49359663749800343782012-11-15T15:26:00.001-07:002012-11-15T15:26:41.304-07:00Not DeadJust down for the count. Some health problems v-e-r-y slow to resolve. I am moving at a snail's pace back into the main stream of life. <br />
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Winter has arrived. I'm glad. I want to be holed up for a while yet. Dogs, cats and husband are fine. Will write more when I have something to say. <br />
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Take care. Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-14436967011642668142012-08-28T16:24:00.001-06:002012-08-28T16:24:35.430-06:00All's WellI am so over summer. I want to get back to our winter routine. Or any routine. I don't do well with no schedule. This hot summer has been hectic and fast. I am ready to slow down and act instead of just reacting. I kind of envy the students. <br />
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Labor Day is upon us and by darn by October first our gallivanting is going to be over. Bring on the snow.<br />
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Love Bea<br />
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I will rue that last statement.Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-1603307924682563622012-08-21T11:54:00.000-06:002012-08-21T11:54:56.613-06:00DepressionI think I am depressed. Not as a character flaw but as a diagnosis. Semantics make all the difference. <br />
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I have down days. I mean days when I am unable to get up, either emotionally or physically. I fight these days tooth and nail. My main weapon is self abuse. I call myself a lazy slug, slob, ungrateful wretch, and pointless to name a few. Is self abuse an effective weapon? Hardly. So why do I use it? Because depression is a character flaw and I have to kill it. It is part and parcel of my old sinful nature and it is my Christian duty to squash this evidence of original sin like a bug. Somewhere I got the notion castigation could kill sin and SHOULD be used as the first weapon of choice.<br />
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Where do I come up with this stuff? I think I was taught it. I think it may be modified Calvinism but I am not sure. Anyhoo, it is majorly unhelpful and I am trying to rid myself of it. In comes Catholicism. Catholics believe our created bodies are Good, parts of the Body of Christ. So...if my depression is part of my body (inherited like my blond hair) then it <em>and its manifestations (down days) are not evil, and I am not evil for having them</em>. I have an inherited condition for which I am obligated to seek treatment to keep this Good body and mind in health. I do not need to war against my depression but seek care for it. I begin by not being surprised by my down days and fighting against them. I treat them. If you are physically sick you take medicine and/or take to your bed. If I am depressed I need to love my body/mind and minister to it. Ministering does not mean all the sugar I can eat. That would be more self abuse. Ministering does not mean isolation. Again more self abuse. Ministering means, what...? This I am still trying to work out. Any suggestions would be welcomed.<br />
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Thanks, Love Bea.<br />
Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-82285966315063580962012-07-05T16:10:00.000-06:002012-07-05T16:13:11.799-06:00RainIt is raining. Has been a month since we have seen any precip. All the housewives in our little hamlet are outside drinking it in. The big Wyoming fire is just over the hill (read mountain range) from us. We get the smoke daily. I am not complaining, my sister-in-law is getting ash. The rain will help with the fire containment. <br />
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We had a quiet fourth because of the fireworks ban. The dogs loved it. Me too. I usually have to sedate Mollie. Jonah Tucker turns out to be afraid of the pops also. Nothing like spending a season with shaking, drooling dogs. Fireworks are legal here and our neighbor kids set them off all summer. I hope the fire ban lasts for a while. <br />
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I am rereading St. Augustine's "Confessions." I had to read it in college but did not remember most of it. This morning I read about his struggle with gluttony. I cried the whole while I was reading it. It describes my own struggle to a tee. Made me feel worlds better. If a saint battled with his outsize appetite I guess I can battle also. He said he had to use food "medicinally." This is where I need to be. Presently I use food for joy. He also reminded me satan tempted the starving Christ with bread. Not meat, green veg, beans, fruit, unprocessed grain, but <em>baked bread.</em> Food for thought, no pun intended. Not a big surprise I am also tempted by bread ( read cake, cookies, donuts, quick breads, bagels, gravy, and anything else with cooked flour in it.) As I was sitting there thinking about temptation and not eating bread this thought sprang into my head, "I am the Bread of Life." And, as now I am finally able to partake of The Real Presence, I don't have to give up Bread after all. <br />
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This whole deal just gets better and better. Love Bea<br />
<br />Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-73054567650943080512012-06-28T16:42:00.000-06:002012-06-28T16:43:55.920-06:00I'm HAPPYLife is good. Summer hit with a vengeance. I have been running around like a headless chicken. We are snow bound for eightish months so when warm weather finally arrives we all go at it like fools. I have planted so much stuff it takes me an solid hour every morning to water it. I also had to replant a bunch of stuff. As our soil is mostly rocks, planting and replanting requires a pickax and a serious investment of time and energy. I think I am about done with putting plants in the ground. When the tulips die back a bit more I will plant geraniums to replace them and then I will be finished. Yeah.<br />
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I am well and truly Confirmed. Was a tremendous experience. I did not know Father Flo was going to pour half a bottle of oil over my head. Mighty messy but sure smelled good. I can now take communion with the rest of the community. Let me just say it is a way different experience than I have ever known. It is dandy, just dandy. As a new Catholic I was able to participate in the dedication of our new church. Wow. Catholics sure do things up in a big way. Service was two and a half hours long. Then we ate. I felt like I had moved in. I feel like I have come home. <br />
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My counseling goes well. Much to be said for Christian (Catholic) Counseling. Also I am losing again finally. Only five pounds but is a start. I feel invigorated in all aspects of my life. Okay have to go and mow the darn lawn. I am looking into tapping into more blogs at "Grace Place." We'll see. <br />
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Take care any who are still reading. Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-69556563581951335982012-05-17T14:25:00.002-06:002012-05-17T14:25:40.112-06:001. Continual salvation.<br />
2. Theology of suffering.<br />
3. Saving us vs. saving me.<br />
4. Where the buck stops (the Vatican).<br />
5. Pressing on to the high calling (Good Works).<br />
6. A great cloud of witnesses (Saints).<br />
7. Mary, my loving Mother.<br />
8. Sin, I'm accountable.<br />
9. Dipped or Dunked?<br />
10. Loving my incarnation.<br />
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I am in the process of converting to the Catholic Church. What was supposed to be a stop gap measure en route to another Protestant membership has forever changed my life. I am wayyyy out of my comfort zone. Thanks be to God. <br />
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I never thought about the Reformation. Luther and all those questions were not a part of my early religious training. I was not aquainted with Reformation Protestantism let alone the Church it was hell bent on protesting and reforming. I heard the Nicene Creed first when I was in my thirties. I was ignorant. I remained ignorant in spite of my involvement in several mainline denominations, and study for a masters degree in medieval religious history. I was raised to be a Pentecostal Fundamentalist. This non-traditional understanding of God's love for us has had a death like grip on me. Or more truthfully I have had a death like grip on it. Just now at 55 am I able to loosen my hold on what at best was a lot of nonsense and at worst, wrong. What I was taught as a child did not contain the whole Truth. But I believed it hook, line and sinker. Why, and why did it take me so long to come to Truth? God only knows. I make the last statement in faith.<br />
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This blog is evolving as am I. I will now be writing more about my faith journey than my physical journey. I will begin by writing posts about the differences I see between my quasi Protestant understanding of God and my dawning Catholic understanding of God. I expect to see my expanded faith with more clarity at time goes on. I am currently seeing through a glass darkly but things are lightening up daily.<br />
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Okay enough for now. Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-25239218256287698222012-05-17T14:12:00.000-06:002012-05-17T14:23:51.298-06:00Differences1. Continual salvation.<br />
2. Theology of suffering.<br />
3. Saving us vs. saving me.<br />
4. Where the buck stops (the Vatican).<br />
5. Pressing on to the high calling (Good Works).<br />
6. A great cloud of witnesses (Saints).<br />
7. Mary, my loving Mother.<br />
8. Sin, I'm accountable.<br />
9. Dipped or Dunked?<br />
10. Loving my incarnation.<br />
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I am in the process of converting to the Catholic Church. What was supposed to be a stop gap measure en route to another Protestant membership has forever changed my life. I am wayyyy out of my comfort zone. Thanks be to God. <br />
<br />
I never thought about the Reformation. Luther and all those questions were not a part of my early religious training. I was not acquainted with Reformation Protestantism let alone the Church it was hell bent on protesting and reforming. I heard the Nicene Creed first when I was in my thirties. I was ignorant. I remained ignorant in spite of my involvement in several mainline denominations, and study for a masters degree in medieval religious history. I was raised to be a Pentecostal Fundamentalist. This non-traditional understanding of God's love for us has had a death like grip on me. Or more truthfully I have had a death like grip on it. Just now at 55 am I able to loosen my hold on what at best was a lot of nonsense and at worst, wrong. What I was taught as a child did not contain the whole Truth. But I believed it hook, line and sinker. Why, and why did it take me so long to come to Truth? God only knows. I make the last statement in faith.<br />
<br />
This blog is evolving as am I. I will now be writing more about my faith journey than my physical journey. I will begin by writing posts about the differences I see between my quasi Protestant understanding of God and my dawning Catholic understanding of God. I expect to see my expanded faith with more clarity at time goes on. I am currently seeing through a glass darkly but things are lightening up daily.<br />
<br />
Okay enough for now. Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-88942213611292675232012-05-04T14:32:00.000-06:002012-05-04T14:32:38.691-06:00CaloriesI have been out of touch for a month. Vickie in that time you went private. If you are still checking in here I DO WANT TO READ YOUR BLOG. Helen has my email address. Please send me the password or whatever I need to get to the blog. <br />
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Much is changing in my life. I will be confirmed on Pentecost. I will be a Catholic. I am being given a new way to look at life and myself. Many scales have dropped from my eyes. The combination of counseling and RCIA classes have given me new lenses. I am grateful.<br />
<br />
Again I learn the lesson of calories. I bought a couple of books touting the benefits of low glycemic carbs and weight loss. As I dearly wanted to hang on to bread, pasta and cookies I put the diet plan into action. I also decided to count calories again. I want to weigh 150 lbs. so I ate 1500 calories a day, including many low glycemic carbs. The outcome will not shock anyone. I gained weight. <br />
<br />
My body wants protein, dairy, veg and fruit with small amounts of whole grains, legumes and potatoes thrown in for good measure. Sugar and flour in any amounts stall weight loss, pack on the pounds, and make me feel sick. I am very sad about this seeming life time sentence of deprivation.<br />
<br />
But...I have a choice to look at my body type through new lenses. Some people have blue eyes and some have brown. Some people can well utilize carbs and some can't. I am a can't. It is genetic. I can tilt at windmills or accept the obvious. I accept the obvious. I am learning about "offering up" my trials and tribulations. I am offering up my sorrow at not being able to tolerate carbs. I am also anticipating joy in learning to practise mortification with my habit of overeating.<br />
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Okay all for now. Take care. Bea<br />
<br />Beahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-39286062513307659712012-04-13T15:11:00.002-06:002012-04-13T15:18:23.011-06:00SpringIs here. Last year at this time we had five inches of snow on the ground. I am over the moon about greenish grass and birds. The dogs think they have died and gone to heaven. <br /><br />I am on an even keel. Still working on willpower. Is an uphill battle, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">winnable</span>. <br /><br />We may be doing some traveling. I am looking forward to a wine tour in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Nampa</span> Idaho. Who knew. Also a trolley ride and a night at the opera. (I sound like <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Groucho</span> Marx.) Nothing more to report.<br /><br />Keep smiling. LynnBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-58897791626946076872012-03-28T11:32:00.003-06:002012-03-28T14:00:37.413-06:00DifferencesThis post is indirectly about fat.<br /><br />I am in the process of switching my Christian tradition. I have been a Fundamentalish Protestant Christian for forty years. I am now ponderously moving toward the Catholic tradition. Is different. Fundamentally, no pun intended, different. I am not talking about The Real Presence in the Eucharist, Mariology, Purgatory, confession or Saintly intercession. Those are given differences. This is something else. Something I am having a hard time grasping. It has to do with self respect and self love.<br /><br />I was taught to regard myself as a sinner saved by Grace. My past, present and future sins were forgiven if and when I repented, but my soul would always retain the effects of original sin. I was going to Heaven because of Christ's sacrifice on the Cross but my life on earth would be fraught with sin because of my "original sin" nature. I would spend my life being a victim of Satan who had access to my soul (and my actions) through my sin nature. I could expect my life to be a litany (no pun) of sin and repentance. I was going to sin, I had no choice, it was part and parcel of who I was. It was my job was to be on constant alert for sin and promptly repent of it. I was also taught all sin was the same in the eyes of God. He cannot look at sin so swearing and murder brought the same end, separation from God. I have spent years feeling like a sinful worm grateful to a picky god who out of regal magnanimity was willing to "save a wretch like me."<br /><br />Okay so I began attending these RCIA classes. My husband calls them Roman Catholic Indoctrination Activities. The first thing they told me is that my original sin was removed when I was baptized. <em>What???? Removed????</em> Who came up with that crack pot notion? Jesus it turns out. My whole world suddenly flipped on its' head. This was in the first damn class. (I am also learning about mortal and venial sin.) If I was not, while in this mortal coil, bent irrevocably by and toward sin who was I? It has taken me a couple of months to figure it out.<br /><br />I am not a sinner. I am the Beloved of God made in the Triune Image and given His greatest gifts, life and choice. Yes there is a tempter and I will always be tempted. Sometimes I will sin because I am willful. But, Oh I love that word, but, I can choose not to sin. I am not condemned by my very nature to sin. Was painful to believe myself both the agent of sin and the sinned against. I was at war within. My nature is not sinner or victim of sin but Beloved. Good News indeed.<br /><br />Now what does all of that have to do with fat? If I am not at my very core a sinner but a Beloved I (who sometimes gives in to the temptation and makes poor choices) can and should love and respect myself. I am not a victim of Lucifer or his minion me. I am a free Beloved. Who the Son has set free is free indeed. I do not have to live an out of control sin-full life. I have choice. I have free will. I have a working will. I thought it was broken. Bent by sin and never to be of any use to me. NOT. I am not a victim. Thanks be to God.<br /><br />Damn. I may be going overboard with this venial sin thing. My obsession with sugar is not gone. I still eat over my emotions...but I don't have to. I can make different choices. I most time still make bad choices. I am cutting myself some slack. My will is weak. I haven't used it in forty years. I pray for strength and have started exercising my will. I don't like the exercise. It hurts. I am a whimp and lazy. But, I am a Beloved lazy whimp not a victimized stuck sinner. And it makes all the difference.<br /><br />Pray for me as I will for thee.<br /><br />Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-35576959259300472782012-03-19T14:58:00.002-06:002012-03-19T15:24:47.980-06:00New DirectionsMuch is happening in my life and I don't really want to talk about it. Tilt, tilt.<br /><br />I always want to be heard by all and sundry. Why else blog? I have been willing to open the doors of my life to strangers, and like Blanche I have looked for and relied on their kindness. I found it in spades. So what is the deal? In the past when I stopped blogging it was because I didn't have the energy to put fingers to keyboard. This is different. Blogging now feels invasive. I find I no longer want to share the details of my life. Suddenly my inner and maybe even outer life seem private.<br /><br />Don't know what this new boundary will mean for the blog. Only time will tell.<br /><br />Take care. Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-3054380982288319752012-02-24T14:17:00.002-07:002012-02-24T14:42:14.414-07:00Time OutIt has been almost a month since last I posted. <br /><br />I have had the flu. The cat was spayed and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">declawed</span>. Other cat got sick. Husband had an out of town trial. I quit my church. Washing machine and dryer broke. Six hundred million feet of snow fell. The sun is shining today.<br /><br />Therapy visit was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">tres</span> beneficial. Emotional Deprivation Disorder results from lack of unconditional love in childhood. This lack of love stunts emotional growth. The body, intellect and to some degree the spirit mature, but many emotions remain immature. Ipso facto, you end up as an adult attempting to navigate the "grown-up" world with child like emotional reactions. The cure is unconditional love in the stunted areas. How does this work? Beats me. I am still in the process of going through my history.<br /><br />Okay all for now. I am actually <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">vacuuming</span> and was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">shanghaied</span> by the computer. <br /><br />Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-47450194715793842202012-02-01T11:11:00.002-07:002012-02-01T11:33:32.439-07:00Sunshine today. Still ten below on north side of the house. All is white with the world.<br /><br />Have lost five pounds as of today. Will probably go up by tomorrow as Husband's birthday celebration is tonight and I will eat pasta and cake, his favorites. I am prepared for a temporary increase and do not intend to go off the deep end about it. I am in it (food plan) for the long haul this time.<br /><br />Had a birthday myself recently. I am now 55 years old. Seems weird but I am grateful, my mother died at 48. I have begun to get the weirdest mail. I got an add from a "scooter store." If I bought one of these scooters, according to the promotion, I would be doing wheelies in the parking lot in a matter of minutes. I don't think so. I have also begun to get catalogs advertising catheters and shower chairs. Come on. I may be a bit creaky in the knees on cold mornings but I am not yet ready for all this senior paraphernalia. Since when did 55 get to be the cut off age for youth? Like Jean Brodie, I believe myself to still be in my prime. Apparently I am the only one.<br /><br />My first counseling session is today. I am hoping to work on trust. I think this is my main issue. Mebbee not. We'll see.<br /><br />All done for another week. <br /><br />Love BeaBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-37842593449271420052012-01-25T09:43:00.002-07:002012-01-25T10:49:39.998-07:00CommunityMorning all. Blog day is here. Is cold again this a.m.. More snow in the forecast. Has been foggy for the last couple of days. The inversion traps the fog in the valley and we live for a few days in old London. I sure miss the sun.<br /><br />I love this laptop. I am sitting in my easy chair in the living room. I am beside a window trying to get some light. The birds are at the feeder eating me out of house and home. Last year I was stuck using Husband's computer upstairs. I had to wear gloves and hat to stay warm. Not so now. As with most old houses there is heat under the window. I have a cup of tea at my elbow and two dogs asleep on the floor at my feet. The cats are on the back of the sofa watching birds through the picture window at the other feeder. All in all, just a dandy situation.<br /><br />Had a bad eating day Monday. Husband did not come home for lunch as planned. My routine was altered and so my external control was weakened. Don't know why I need routine to maintain control over my eating but it is so. I am grateful to recognize it. I went nuts. Ate a jar of salsa and half a bag of mints along with multiple cheese sandwiches. The binge lasted all afternoon until Husband returned home in the evening. I felt like a worm. A stuffed worm. Had a good cry, talked to God about my out of controlness and went early to bed.<br /><br />I don't know why my inner control is so weak. I believe I can control people and situations in my life. I labor at controlling people and situations in my life. I can't control people and situations in my life. I don't believe I can control myself so I don't even try. I probably can control myself. I think I have things bassackwards. <br /><br />I have set up rigid outer controls to make up for my lack of inner control. <em>My "shoulds"</em>. Bells and bright lights need to be going off here. This is a huge insight for me. The outer controls, my routine and order, sort of work but are punishing to maintain. I would like to have order and peace inside and have it flow out on to my environment. I start counseling next Wednesday. Christian counseling. I am looking forward to some help.<br /><br />"You have not because you ask not." Yup. That would be me. I am asking. It is scaring the crap out of me. Community is where I will receive healing for my broken places. I attended my third catechism class last eve. Will the Catholic Church be part of my new community? Don't know. Is a long stretch to give up sola scriptura and the sole authority of Christ. And all that confessing, how humiliating. Just what I need. Less isolation, even in my relationship with God. <br /><br />Okay all done. Today is my day off. (A housewife does not get days off unless she takes them.) I am going to read and take hounds for a walk.<br /><br />Pray for me as I will for thee. Love LynnBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2668796948874901630.post-51523374404913309052012-01-18T08:33:00.002-07:002012-01-18T10:35:46.951-07:00Sea ChangeThere is a lake somewhere in Africa or India that turns over once a year. All the debris from the bottom is washed up into the light of day. Something like that is happening to me.<br /><br />I have lost three pounds. Not much for two weeks of more controlled eating. It is taking me a long time to get back into the swing of things. A "clean" kitchen and pantry do not happen overnight. I am using up the items I bought that are not so beneficial for me. As these run out I buy the healthy stuff. (Once again I am delighted to realize meat and veg are cheaper than processed food.) I don't care that I am off to a slow start. This is not so much about weight loss this time. It is about surrendering my desire to have what I want when I want it. I have spent years gratifying most of my desires. The fact that my desires are modest does not mitigate my out of controlness. With money also. Just because we are not dead broke does not excuse my buying stuff I should not be buying. I want a better life. I can envision the life I want. I have a promise from God for a better life, IF I DO MY PART. I am going to do my part. I am going to be out of debt (minimal prob) and thinner (maximal prob). I am asking God for help every step of the way.<br /><br />I am a person who likes order. I have felt bad about this desire even while realizing it is a God given part of my personality. Hard to live an out of control life while loving order. Makes me hate myself. I finally get it. God is not a god of chaos. My need for order is a blessed state. I can pursue order to my heart's content. Order not perfectionism. Order leaves margin for error. Mine and other people's. Perfectionism brooks no failure anytime, anyplace or in anyone. <br /><br />Back to doing my part. I am making change one baby step (thanks Vickie) at a time. Order is motivated baby steps. Perfectionism is turning the world upside down for overwhelming immediate change. <br /><br />First Baby Step: I pray daily for patience and perseverance. I have outlined my weak areas. I pray in the mornings for God to strengthen me in these specific areas. That is it for now<br /><br />Animals are fine. Abby new cat is getting cuter and cuter. Weather is cold. Way below zero most mornings. Has warmed up and is snowing. Is that better? Not sure. Husband has cabin fever. Mee too. Okay off to the races. See you next week.<br /><br />LynnBeahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972291927652716856noreply@blogger.com2