In Which Mr. Himself Sings the Blues

Every first Sunday night of the month at our church, we have “Gift Exchange Night” following our monthly Birthday/Anniversary carry-in dinner. This month Mr. Himself — my husband and pastor, Eddie, — shared with us a blues-type song he wrote. I think it’s pretty awesome. But then, I’m partial. Both to the blues and to Mr. Himself. What say you? (I know the sound isn’t that great. Which is problematic when you’re recording music. But hopefully as my YouTube channel grows and my platform grows I’ll be able to afford better equipment. For now, it is what it is!) Let me know what you think in the comments below! And please subscribe to my channel! If I get 100 subscribers, I can get a personalized URL for my YouTube channel which will make it even easier to find. Thanks y’all! Tweet this: A new bluesy spiritual by Mr. Himself!...

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To my dear readers

Dearest Most Darling Reader, My website hosting is weird. Half the time it doesn’t let me in to blog. In its eagerness to protect me from hackers it even blocks ME! And the server people don’t work on weekends (when I have more time to blog) so by the time I’m allowed back in to work, my inspiration has flown to the land of missing socks. That is part of the reason why I haven’t had a post recently. The other reason is that my husband, Mr. Himself, is in the Philippines doing missions work and I have total care of mother Ellen while he’s away (she lives with us). I spent most of the day yesterday in the ER with her. I also have total care of my twins with autism and another son with bipolar. I live the life of a circus mom. Seriously. I also have four dogs and two cats. The fact that I’m still walking in an upright position without severe twitching is a miraculous thing. Mother Ellen is home now, doing well, and Mr. Himself comes home in a few more days. But, of course, the interruptions won’t cease. Along comes the holidays. Not to mention I am doing 60 hours of observation at the local school for part of my degree requirements. (I’m getting a degree in Special Education.) Does life ever slow down? No. I don’t think it does. Leave me a comment and let me know how chaotic your life is right now so I don’t feel alone! And if you could click on the little twitter bird over at the left and help me spread the word, I’d be most appreciative. Love,...

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Do I smell like old books and glue?

I have a new hobby. It’s YouTube. Not in the way you think. I listen to lectures on it while I work or as I fall asleep. Anyway, I stumbled onto a video the other day (while watching a commercial for handbags when I wasn’t listening to a lecture) of a young man in New York City who sells high end handbags. He was explaining what types of people carry which handbag. He described someone who carries a Chanel handbag as being “an old lady who smells like old books and glue.” And I had to wonder–do I? I love old books! And I do have a lot of glue because I’m a homeschool Mom and now a grandma and there’s nothing I enjoy more than doing crafts with the girls. EEEEEK! Okay, let’s get one thing straight. I’ve never carried a handbag worth more than $100. I’m not sure I’ve ever carried one worth more than $50 (if I have, it was given to me). I do invest in a good business roller bag for my computer because I take my laptop/office with me everywhere I go. When I got my financial aid last spring I sprung for this one: But handbags? I have never understood the need to carry one that cost more than my car. Check this out. According to the Guinness Book of World Records, this handbag is the most expensive one on earth. It weighs in at $3.8 million dollars. Now, maybe I have a poverty mentality, but if I owned a handbag that expensive, I’d sell it immediately and buy a few schools in underprivileged areas or something. I can’t imagine carrying something so expensive, can you? Having said that, I imagine that anyone who actually owns something like this has fortunes in the billions of dollars, so maybe them carrying this purse on their budget is like me carrying one that’s a few hundred dollars. Maybe. I don’t know. Can’t wrap my mind around it. But back to glue and old books. I know for a fact I don’t smell like that because a lady at church the other day told me I smelled like a “very distinguished woman wearing diamonds and pearls.” I’ll take that! (For the record, I’ve been wearing a very inexpensive body spray the past three or four years that people always compliment me on. If you want to know what it is, email me.) What do you smell like? What handbag do you carry? (And yes, guys, this is relevant because the trend is for guys to carry them. Okay, maybe only in New York City or Paris. Not so sure you gun-toting, red-blooded, Mid-American types are...

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The Many Adventures of Mr. Himself: In Which He Gets Ready to Travel Overseas to the Philippines

Yesterday I introduced you to my husband, whom I lovingly refer to as Mr. Himself and explained that I’m dedicating a blog post category to him. After I wrote the post yesterday, I realized I failed to let you know the important work he’s up to besides hoarding toilet paper.¬† My husband is a gifted guitarist, song writer and worship leader besides an extremely knowledgeable theologian. He is going to the Philippines in October to minister to some churches there and to teach and minister at a pastor’s leadership conference.   If you’d like to contribute to his missions fund, feel free to visit his website. You will be blessed! Tweet This: Besides hoarding toilet paper, he’s actually a gifted musician and preacher,...

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The Many Adventures of Mr. Himself: In Which This One Involves Toilet Paper

With his permission, I’ve decided to dedicate a portion of my blog to Mr. Himself. He is such a funny person to live with that I can’t help writing about him. And since he doesn’t take¬†himself seriously, he’s okay with being exposed in this way. Mr. Himself lives at the mercy and whims of many others for various reasons. One of them is that he’s married to me. Being married to an author and scholar isn’t easy (I’m also a full-time college student at the moment). He has to do his own laundry these days, and has for a long time. I think he’s a tad bitter about that, but that’s another blog post. He takes care of his mother who has Alzheimer’s and lives with us, and helps me with the twins (age 20) with autism in addition to being a full-time pastor. So, as you can imagine, there are very few things he has control over. And that’s why, I believe, he tries to control weird things. Like toilet paper. Currently, there are six adults living in this house. The twins have a caregiver who comes for a portion of the day, so technically we have 6.5 people in this house using toilet paper. We go through a lot of it. Like maybe a roll or two a day. I don’t know because I’m too busy to keep track. Apparently he has time to because it’s driving him bonkers. So, a few days ago, he decided toilet paper was something he would control. We were each assigned our own roll of toilet paper with our names on it. And we were not to use any else’s roll. He was going to find out who ran out first. And he was rationing it. It had to last us at least a week, or ideally, two weeks. Right. Like that’s going to happen. There’s this funny thing about humans. We don’t like to be dominated. We don’t like to be told what to do. And we are competitive. So instead of using my own precious roll of toilet paper, I sneak a few Kleenex in with me, or I swipe some off one of the boys’s rolls. Bad. I know. I’ve sinned over toilet paper. TOILET. PAPER. Me: Honey, I’ve decided to feature you now and then on my blog. I’m giving you your own category. And I’m going to write about this toilet paper experiment of yours. Mr. Himself: Why? Me: Because you’re hilarious. I mean, you wrote our names on toilet paper. Think about it. WHO DOES THAT? Mr. Himself (laughs with great satisfaction): It is pretty funny, isn’t it? The experiment is failing. No one is...

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