Worth the effort?

It's Sunday and it's kinda been a busy day. I messed around too much this week and didn't get my Sunday School lesson prepared until last night. This is no small task; you better study your background material cause you will be asked questions that only  3rd or 4th grade child could think of. I also had to make a sample cross for the craft we were going to do, also.

Needless to stay, I worked through my sleepy time and it was after 3 am before I fell asleep.

Good news for me - only had to get up one time to go potty and only woke one time having to fling the sheets off of my hot body. (and I mean temperature hot, not bodacious hot).

Bad news for me - I finished my book and now have to find something new to read tonight.

So........that means my alarm was set for 8:15 so that I could get every last minute of sleep possible. Church starts at 9:30 so that gave me plenty of time to shower, makeup and dress and to get in one or two snippy remarks to Hunka Hunka.(a regular Sunday Morn ritual).  He leaves to pick up our Granddaughter because Grandson is sick and their Daddy will stay with him. He also has to stop and get gas because the low fuel light always decides to light up on Saturday night.

But I digress; back to my main subject.

I manage to get to church only 5 minutes late. We have a great Sunday School class - neighboring class brings us plates of birthday cake and chips and Sunny D.(and that is why the kids never want to move up to my class).  Much better breakfast than the little bowl of shredded wheat (who could eat a big bowl?) I consumed while putting on makeup. We have time to complete the lesson (fourth grade boys can usually interrupt numerous times - this week they had all been to the Rattlesnake Rodeo here in town, so you do the math on the interruptions we had today.) It's amazing how they can answer the review questions at the end of the lesson correctly every Sunday.

I digress once more; back to the subject.

We have a super wonderful worship service with testimonies and singing and just so great you hate to see it end. We get out around 12:30 and head over to the fellowship building for the children's Easter Egg hunt. (although we adults enjoy it, too).  Mrs. Carolyn always does a great job with the egg hunt.

This year each child found 6 eggs with letters on them that spelled E-a-s-t-e-r. They had to wait to open the eggs when they came back inside. They opened them one at a time and she explained the contents; all about the Resurrection. 

Here's a pic of a few of the precious kids waiting for the hunt to begin.

But I digress again - back to the subject.

I arrived home about 2pm. We have to be back at church at 4pm. Not much time - if I nap to make up for lost sleep I will not be able to sleep tonight. Besides, less than 2 hours is not enough time to start anything.

THE BIG QUESTION - with less than two hours before heading back out is it worth the effort to take off my shoes and bra and relax in style and comfort? 

Ladies, this is what we in the South call a no brainer. Yeck, yeah!  Oooh, Aaaah!

Putting on mascara

I think life is full of humor. I like it the most when it is someone else, but in this case it is me. I really should get someone to take a pic and post it of me putting on my mascara.

I have poor vision. OK, very poor vision.

An aside: I was hoping Emma would specialize in lasik surgery and help me out with this, but noooooo, she won't do it. Come on, Emma, what would it take; another 2 or 3 years of school?  It would work out great for me. I would probably be old enough for medicare to cover part of it by the time you completed your specialization. (Is that even a word?)

Back to the subject. I used to be able to put my makeup on without wearing my glasses or contacts. 
The vision became more impaired. I could see to apply my foundation and blush, but not my mascara. So I had to improvise. I perfected the technique of putting on my mascara with my glasses pushed a little ways down my nose. This gave me enough room for the mascara wand to do its job of making my whitey wisps into gloriously lush black fronds.

The vision became more impaired. I began to notice my foundation was on a little too heavy and the blush a little too bright when I would put my glasses on.  Hence, the contacts would go in and I would
put all my make-up on.  I discovered I needed to stop with the black fronds and try a more natural brownish color. (if brown can be considered natural on white eyelashes. I think it can because my hair is turning darker on the underside in the back and everyone thinks I just dye the top layer of my hair, so brown could be my natural color, right?)

The vision became more impaired. So I improvised. I bought a mirror that magnifies about 20,000 times.  I put on my glasses, find my contact case, take out the first contact, get it on the end of the right finger, take off my glasses, get the magnifying mirror and put in my contact. I can then see the case and can get the other contact in. Whew!

An aside: I can't tell you the number of times I have taken out my contacts, put my glasses on and found out I completely missed the contact case. I used to put the contacts in and screw the lid shut before I put on my glasses. This resulted in a contact being caught in the threads and being rendered unusable. A missed contact case is much better than a shredded contact.

Back to my subject.
 Next I put on my foundation and blush, pick up the mirror again and check for caked foundation and blushy bright spots. After this is corrected, I put on my mascara. This is where it gets tricky. You have to hold the wand in the right hand and the mirror in the left, with the mascara tube facing outward between a victory sign you make with the left hand. (this is to make sure you don't cover the hair beside your cheekbone and left eye with brown mascara. And you will hit your white hair every time with this glop if you hold it between your thumb and pointing finger. Trust me on this.)  Then you take a Qtip and get all the mascara you have smeared right above your lid line. (Something else I found out I was doing when I started implemented the magnifying mirror technique).
I am a bit worried. If my vision becomes more impaired I only have a few options.

1. Go without any makeup and risk scaring everyone I meet.
2. Hire a live-in makeup artist to put on my makeup. 
3. Growing my hair over my face.
4. Going with no makeup, no glasses, no contacts and having Bob lead me around everywhere.

Number one would not be conducive to a good self image.

Number two would be somewhat expensive.

Number three I am working on.  My hair, when combed to the front will hang to my chin. It is hot under there and I shed like a shetland pony.

Number four - Hunka Hunka would probably tell me I needed a service animal and would supply me with a wolverine or something else that I would think was a dog, but in reality was an animal that seeks out the weakest (in this case the blindest)  in a group to kill and destroy.

I think I better started taking Ocuvite and eating a lot of carrots.

Family Pics

 FAMILY

May God bless this family

and the love and laughter we share.

Family is my only treasure on this earth.

Our first son, Michael, and his wife Sherry



Our first grandchild, beautiful Brooklyn

           

Our second grandchild, handsome Brady



Our fourth grandchild, Pretty Layne



Our third grandchild, cutie pie Andrew



Our second son, Matthew



Our fifth grandchild, sweet Adelyn



Our first daughter and third child, Jessica, and her husband Jarrod
(and baby #2 hidden inside)

To God Be the Glory

For His Wonderful Goodness

to Me and Bob.







Miracles Still Happen

I have been married 33.5 years. Some people think that is an amazing accomplishment and I guess it really is considering who I am married to.  Ha! Ha! Ha!   People who know me well also know that Hunka Hunka of  Burning Love is the one who gets the credit for the longevity of our marriage. Although I can remember asking him when he popped the question if he was sure and I told him I was a b*#*h and very selfish; selfish with his time, not with money and possessions. So he was forewarned.  And I did  tell him it was forever because it was a vow with God unless he cheated on me; and I explained the repercussions to particular body parts of his if this occurred. In my family we know that 33.5 years is child's play. My parents and sisters have far exceeded this total.  That said,  marriage itself is fairly easy if  you love, love, love your Hunka Hunk like I do mine. Love forgives much.

But all that is way off the subject I want to talk about tonight.  My husband has told everyone how I think he is a god because when we first met I kept putting burnt offerings in front of him.  I have repeatedly over the years tried to make biscuits. This is something I could do very well as a teenager - I don't know what happened when I moved from home.  Sweet Hunka Hunka has literally thrown my knots of bread (an attempt at biscuits that went really bad) against the wall and they didn't crumble or break. He threw them outside to the dog and the dog sniffed and walked away!  At times I have gone years in between attempts. 

Tonight I tried again, and while they were not pretty by any means, Hunka Hunka deemed them delicious. I warily tried one and when I broke it open it smelled like my Mama's biscuits!  So I put a bite in my mouth and this time I was able to eat the entire biscuit; with only butter. (and this time the butter was used to enhance the flavor, not disguise it).

So here is a picture of a miracle that is over 30 years in the making.

Whoop! Whoop!

Church Kids

This is what I spend my Wednesday nights doing.  I don't know what age boys start to hate having their picture made, but it sure isn't the 6 - 8 years old sector of humanity.  After years of teaching I can only surmise that  every boy in grades 1 - 3 are natural-born comedians.

And the child below in the cap is from my Sunday morning class.  However, I can't take the credit for this. It was taken at our Kid's Christmas Party.  When future girlfriends are shown this pic, he will not be able to blame it on Miz-a-Ree.

That's actually what the little beginners used to call me. They tried to say "Mrs. Marie" and it just came out "Mizaree".  On rare days, the title was quite appropriate; misery was there. But helping the kids at church grow spiritually over the years has been one of my greatest blessings.  It's absolutely amazing how much kids can understand about God.........

And, yes, this is another one of my boys on Sunday morning. I did not give him whatever that is he's trying to blind himself with. But if I could think of a way to integrate it into the lesson I would most definitely do it.

testing

Wow! I haven't posted in a while because my desktop was not cooperating with me! It would let me do everything but a new post. I decided to come check out some blogs I follow and decided to try one more time to do a new post. Miracle time! Shazam! Whoopee! So far, so good. Now let's see if I can actually post this. Testing..1...2...3....

Confessions of a Granny Panty Wearer

I guess I must confess that for a few years I have been a "Granny Panty" subscriber. White is the only color I buy because frankly I am just too lazy to worry about matching panties to slacks and dresses. White truly does go with everything. You need 2 pair of black on the off chance that your black slacks wear thin. Taking these white monstrosities out of the dryer, I have often wondered why the elastic often frays so quickly. If you also are a Granny Panty wearer you know what I am talking about. It's those little elastic strings that appear sometime around the third washing and drying. Every time I reach in and start to fold a pair I forget that you absolutely cannot pull these little stringy thingies off. If you do you will either snap your finger when the elastic stringy thingy breaks or you will make the waistline of your panties look so bad you have to put them in the throw-a-way pile on top of your dryer. (this pile deserves it's own blog post) Anyway, I thought I would let you know that I have discovered what makes these waistbands fray so quickly. It was truly a light bulb moment. I was sitting on the toilet and reached to keep my panties from slipping off my knees to the floor. Up I pulled them and widened my knee span in order to hold them up. I realized that if I stretch them like this six or seven times a day it is bound to wear out the elastic. So now I'm going to test my theory out. I will buy new granny panties and make sure I keep them above the knee where they belong. If it works I will probably get to be buried in one of the new ones cause you know Hanes never wear out.