Save Me From The Banners
I've been so preoccupied with the Ginster's wedding that I haven't had time to pull together the brain cells to produce a blog entry. I've noticed the last few visits, though, that the ad banners have glommed on to my post about my cat. I've had ads about adult diapers, deodorants, room sprays, and fart machines. But what provokes me to action today is the vaginal odor ad. Help me Jesus.
Of course, listing these ad titles puts me at greater risk of even grosser stuff...oops.
Yes, the Ginster is now Mrs. Captain Wow. The wedding ceremony was simple, elegant, beautiful. The weather was perfect. Gin was gorgeous. And now, Mr. Wow has wisked her away to warmer environs, where they can picnic and lambs and lions will come up to them and lick their toes and make them giggle...(a paraphrase of KM's blessing) Blessings on you two.
So today I hauled broken cement from my neighbors' yard to my own to build a raised bed for hostas and other shade lovers. My neighbors broke up their sidewalk from their back door to their driveway a couple of weeks ago, and I've been eyeballing the piles ever since. I spoke with Alyssa a week ago, at which time she told me she and Phil were going to have it all hauled away. I got excited and said, "Could I have it?" To which she replied with brows scrinched, "Uh, sure, okay..." She'd obviously never seen someone get so stirred up over cement before. Anyway, the neighbors were glad to lose it, and I was thrilled (strange, but true) to gain it. So now I have a little project and a great exercise program this week.
I love broken things. Or should I say, I love taking broken things and making them into something beautiful. I've lived in old houses for the last nine years. Restoring beauty and character to an old house, giving a discarded antique a place of honor, fixing an old household tool and using it; these things give me repleteness of soul.
I believe that broken people like to fix things. At least, I know it's true of me. I've been broken many times. I'm still quite chipped and cracked, and not quite as lovely as I once was. I've been loved by a God who takes great pride and pleasure in restoring my soul. My lovely, broken God, broken for me, fixing me.
I'm rambling. Metaphor girl is tired and ready for sweet dreams about:
Jaguars
Shiraz
England
Cello Concertos
Coco Chanel
Feather Pillows
Antiques
James Taylor
Orchids
Okay ad banner, let's see what you'll do with this.
Of course, listing these ad titles puts me at greater risk of even grosser stuff...oops.
Yes, the Ginster is now Mrs. Captain Wow. The wedding ceremony was simple, elegant, beautiful. The weather was perfect. Gin was gorgeous. And now, Mr. Wow has wisked her away to warmer environs, where they can picnic and lambs and lions will come up to them and lick their toes and make them giggle...(a paraphrase of KM's blessing) Blessings on you two.
So today I hauled broken cement from my neighbors' yard to my own to build a raised bed for hostas and other shade lovers. My neighbors broke up their sidewalk from their back door to their driveway a couple of weeks ago, and I've been eyeballing the piles ever since. I spoke with Alyssa a week ago, at which time she told me she and Phil were going to have it all hauled away. I got excited and said, "Could I have it?" To which she replied with brows scrinched, "Uh, sure, okay..." She'd obviously never seen someone get so stirred up over cement before. Anyway, the neighbors were glad to lose it, and I was thrilled (strange, but true) to gain it. So now I have a little project and a great exercise program this week.
I love broken things. Or should I say, I love taking broken things and making them into something beautiful. I've lived in old houses for the last nine years. Restoring beauty and character to an old house, giving a discarded antique a place of honor, fixing an old household tool and using it; these things give me repleteness of soul.
I believe that broken people like to fix things. At least, I know it's true of me. I've been broken many times. I'm still quite chipped and cracked, and not quite as lovely as I once was. I've been loved by a God who takes great pride and pleasure in restoring my soul. My lovely, broken God, broken for me, fixing me.
I'm rambling. Metaphor girl is tired and ready for sweet dreams about:
Jaguars
Shiraz
England
Cello Concertos
Coco Chanel
Feather Pillows
Antiques
James Taylor
Orchids
Okay ad banner, let's see what you'll do with this.
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