The dark side of ambition

Have I got je ne sais quoi?

How about joie de vivre?

You be the judge.

Can't write anything.

~Jennifer

 

My Power Animal is the Domestic Ferret

In the market, as it were

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Dying is a day worth living for

I am a taphophile.

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Keep to the code
Do tell, dearie
You want to find this
The promise of redemption

Woe be unto the pastors that destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! saith the LORD. Therefore thus saith the LORD God of Israel against the pastors that feed my people; Ye have scattered my flock, and driven them away, and have not visited them: behold, I will visit upon you the evil of your doings, saith the LORD.

Jeremiah 23:1-2

 

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods  to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up. Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth. Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For now we know in part, and we prophecy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three: but the greatest of these is charity.

I Corinthians 13

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not without my effects

Apparently there's a leak
Time and Tide, Luv
My compass works fine

 

 

The courage of our hearts

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Do not lose these

That would be the french

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Daft like Jack

"There'll be no living with her after this." 

And we'll sing it all the time
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That dog is never going to move

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Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple, easy to remember

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The code is the law

Thursday
Jul292010

The more things change

So, you know the concept of spring cleaning?

I avoid that like the plague.

Spring is a time to be outside (I do not suffer from allergies; my sympathies if you do).

But when late summer comes and it is basically too hot to be outside unless you like your brains fricasseed right inside your cranium and your epidermis melting into your shoes, which I don't, I start changing things around inside the house.

Obviously I do some cleaning. High time, too.

I did so much of that the last few days that I was stiff and sore from bending and stooping and carrying and pushing and pulling and toting and polishing and scrubbing and ... all of it.

So I decided rather late in the day to go swimming ... something I hadn't had an opportunity to do since last weekend on account of we've had so much rain.

With rare exceptions I only take to the pool as the sun is going down. It's cooler and you don't have to bother with sunblock.

Also you know how I am about sunsets.

A South Carolina sunset as viewed from the pool while the cicadas are serenading the neighborhood and swallows chase bugs around the sky rarely if ever lets you down.

Erica had decided not to swim because it had gotten so late ... but when I got into the water I called to her real loud (she was sitting right inside the door looking at a magazine) and when she poked her head out the door I said it was in her best interests to join me. The water felt that great.

Meanwhile, the sunset was growing more and more fiery.

Until by the time Erica came outside, it looked like some sort of holocaust.

Cliche I know, but there you have it: fire in the sky.

I realize this next one is blurry but I like it blurry. Things are mostly a blur for me anyway, metaphorically speaking.

When I turned back around from taking the picture of my palm trees that Andrew planted for me and which I festooned with Christmas lights two weeks ago, the sunset had gone all the way off the chain. 

BTW I was in the pool the whole time, in the shallow end. TG asked me once if I'm ever afraid I'll drop my camera into the water.

Yes.

When it was practically all the way dark (nine o'clock ... I know June 21st was the longest day of the year but it certainly doesn't seem as though the days are getting shorter), I went inside because Erica and I were having a late supper of center-cut pork chops baked to fork-tender, seasoned with worcestershire sauce and Tony Chachere's, and served on soft buns with Kettle Krinkle Cut potato chips (salt and fresh ground pepper flavor) on the side and ice-cold Diet Pepsi to drink.

There's a pork chop left over if you want it.

But before I sat down to eat I took a picture of my favorite finial. I took it with no flash, which I love doing. I also love finials. I got this one at Tuesday Morning.

And then I admired my handiwork around the house, including the newly-arranged country bear corner in the family room. Don't the bears look contented?

That's because they are. And so am I.

Happy Thursday! 

Wednesday
Jul282010

Wordless Wednesday: lightning lighting light

What else to do on a rainy day when you can't swim, except play with Christmas lights you never put away in the attic?

And take 182 pictures to get just ONE of a bolt of lightning?

And move a lamp and a ceramic rooster to another side of the kitchen so they look all new?

That's how my feeble mind works.

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Monday
Jul262010

So not cool

Erica was obliged to go out of town this weekend. She went to Georgia.

You know. Cracker land!

Being truly white, we had no doubt she'd fit right in.

How she looked forward to her trip! As we are wont to do.

Before she left, TG and I urged her to take her car in for some service she'd been putting off.

So she did, last Friday. I followed her so as to provide a ride back home.

While at the service center she asked Mr. Goodwrench to check her tires and fluids as she was going on a trip.

OK sure thing! he said. He might or might not've added little lady!

Some Like It Hot ... But Not Us

Only, she wasn't ten miles down I-20 West on Saturday before her car overheated.

Of course she called her father, who hastened to her rescue.

Turned out her cooling system was woefully lacking in that sine qua non of engine temperature regulation: coolant.

TG got her back on the road and she made it to the Peach State without incident. And had lots of fun with the crackers.

Met nary a black panther, God be praised.

Although that may've been a possum peeking out of the woods.

I Love The Smell Of Retribution In The Morning

Today TG showed up at the service center right about the time they opened. He even beat the manager up in.

He shared a copy of Erica's invoice with a pair of Mr. Goodwrenches-in-training who were minding the store.

They were duly apologetic (not apoplectic ... that was me) when TG pointed out that they hadn't done their job and it had resulted in two people suffering extreme aggravation (in 102-degree heat, I might add), not to mention possible damage to Erica's car and (heaven forfend) even injury to her person.

Permanent Denizens Of Sorryville

Oh, sorry, sir! That shouldn't have happened. But we can't do anything till the manager arrives.

Plus she'll have to bring the car back in.

Okefenokee-Dokie! We'll leave it at that. Who cares that Erica now must surrender her vehicle a second time so they get a second pass at what they should've done in the first place?

Or let the trained monkeys handle? You know ... the ones they keep on hand to organize the wrenches?

So not cool.

Fail. 

I recommend she sue.

Sunday
Jul252010

Snapshot Sunday: shadow study

We left First Baptist Church of Columbia late in the day after a wedding on June 5, 2010.

I love the shadows cast everywhere by the building's crisp, clean, modern interpretation of classic Greek Revival architecture.

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Happy Sunday!

Saturday
Jul242010

Grackle Dance: Folly Beach in Winter

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Down by the ocean

Where water's in motion

Grackles tilt an eye

To weather and the sky.

 

Likely the notion

Life's only an ocean

Suits the grackle just fine

In breezy-warm sunshine.

 

But when the ocean

Inspires cold devotion

Grackles do a dance

Feet nimble with romance.

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Thursday
Jul222010

SkyWatch Friday: summer sunset

The sky changes so quickly!

Especially at sunset. Especially in summer.

I took these pictures from my backyard on July 14, 2010.

Click to slightly embiggen!

 8:15:12 ...

8:16:22 ...

8:16:58 ...

Happy Friday!

Wednesday
Jul212010

She utters of butters

Emma Chambers and Dawn French in one of the funniest clips ever, from The Vicar of Dibley (1994).

Tuesday
Jul202010

Yaybug ... nuh yaybug ... nuh yaybug

I wish you could hear my granddaughter, Allissa, talk. Well, actually she babble-talks. Incessantly.

Allissa turned two in April. Linguistically she's on a par with a university freshman after a keg party.

The term "punch drunk" comes to mind. Words are her hooch.

Like for example, she has this book called Seek and Find Colors that literally you cannot show her enough times.

It contains approximately eighteen thousand pictures of animals, insects, plants, foods, and assorted other items ... all conveniently (and often creatively) color coded.

The idea is for the little kid to learn colors and objects all at one time. Like, a lemon is yellow so the lemon will be on the yellow page. 

It's easy! I caught on the first time she showed it to me.

But what's so hysterical when it comes to Allissa is to watch her with that pointer finger at the ready, intently eyeballing the book, waiting to touch the object you name.

Or, if you want to skew the paradigm, you can do the pointing and ask her to do the identifying.

That's when the situation becomes almost unbearably adorable, inducing (for me anyway) a sensation of exquisite pain.

It goes thusly:

Q. Lissy, what color is this page?

A. Geen!

Green. I hope even if I live to be too old to laugh and cry at the same time (something I'm very good at ... perhaps because I practice so much), I will never forget the way Allissa says "green."

Geen!

On the wed red page, amid the strawberries and the roses and the tomatoes and the patent-leather maryjanes, there's a certain tiny bug with black dots on its back. Actually there are about fifty of them.

She zeroes in on the critters almost before you can ask the question.

Q. What're those, Liss?

A. Yaybug. Nuh yaybug ... nuh yaybug ... nuh yaybug!

Ladybug ... another ladybug ... another ladybug ... another ladybug!

I do not have words to describe the way it sounds. Nor have I made a YouTube.

Suffice it to say, the earnestly-innocent-precocious-cuteness factor goes out of the stratosphere and into the next galaxy, where reside such relentlessly awwwww-worthy things as beagle puppies, baby elephants, and yellow chickies newly hatched.

So today when I was at the store and I saw a ladybug-themed windchime for five dollars?

And I was in the market, as it were?

I bought it and, upon arriving home, I installed it.

Every time I look at it I hear that sweet little voice.

Yaybug! ... nuh yaybug nuh yaybug nuh yaybug!

I wish everyone in the world could hear her say it at least once. Before she learns how to pronounce her l's and d's and th's and r's like a big girl ... and her two-year-old yaybug-loving self is gone forever.