Success!

I walk in the room and hand patient her iron pill that she has been taking 3 times a day for a least a week.

She stares strangely at the pill as if she has never seen it before and asks what it is even though I have told her what it is every time I give it to her.

Patient: I have heard that to much iron can be bad for you.

Me: To much of anything is bad for you.

Patient: Well, that is a good point.

Patient takes the pill.

Please don't

when meeting someone for the first time tell them that they need to get on the kid train.

Story follows: Hubby and I meet a married man with several children today at church. We politely converse for some minutes and then he inquires if we have any children. Mr. M kindly points out that we have not been married that long, only about 9 months. At which point he says, "Well, that's long enough!" My personal theory on the matter is, once you have kids, you can't give them back. So enjoy the time without them while you can.

Story from several months ago:

23 year old mother of 2: So do you have any kids?

Me: No, we have only been married about 6 months.

(At this point, I am thinking that we can talk about something else)

23 yomo2: So are you going to have kids soon?

Me: Umm, well no, we want to pay off some debt first and be married for a couple of years.

End of conversation. Nothing else is said! There is more to me then my ovaries! I swear! Please be my friend!

Hug me!

An observation about Montana. I have noticed that in church, married couples don't touch each other. They don't hold hands, men don't put their arms around their wives during the service. It's like they are sitting beside each other because they have to. They don't really even talk to each other.

The church I grew up in was not full of PDA. I don't think anyone would ever accuse them of that. Far from it. But you would see husband put their arms around their wives and married couples hold hands. Now that I think about it, dating couples didn't hold hands at church. It was seen as very serious. Not that they didn't hold hands other places, just not at church. I always got the impression that most married couples at church liked each other and enjoyed each others company. Hence one of the reasons that they were married.

Well, I thought that perhaps it is a Southern thing, but when we went to Ohio and visited Lonnie's church, the married couples acted like they liked each other. There were hugs and interaction.

So I am befuddled. I am not saying that people should be making out in the back row, but you married this person and I think that it's OK to show that you like them. My husband and I talk to each other at church and sometimes he puts his arm around me. The pastor made a comment about it once, but I didn't think anything about it until I started watching more couples at church and how they interact. Any thoughts out there?

I'm back (from Ohio)

Mr. M and I went off to Ohio for a week to see his family and various friends. One small problem was that the weather forecast said 50's. Try the the 30's for real. It was warmer in Montana. And I did not bring 30's kind of clothes, I brought 50's kind. But hey, we got an shopping trip out of it.

I got to see the house that "I" own. Mr. M bought this house about 5 years before we got married. There are renters in the house now. Every time I refer to his house, I get this strange look and am told, "MY house? It's OUR house." OK, fair enough, but I can't say that I have ever felt any possession of it. The house is nice, the bedrooms are a bit on the small side, and most of the carpet is left over from a bad case of the 70's. But it has some good sized living areas and a huge yard. I don't know that I feel any more ownership of it, but at least I know what it looks like.

Also I got to spend the whole week sleeping on a hide-a-bed in the living room. A little lack of privacy, but not to bad. One morning I awoke from a Law and Order type dream, convinced that I should go to law school. I then thought about Jess and T&B and quickly moved on with other things in my life.

I never thought I would say this, but I was so tired of eating out by the time we came home. I mean I like to eat out, but not for every meal. Of course we were trying to see someone with almost every meal, but I just don't digest that fast. By the time we got home all I wanted to eat was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I have been eating oatmeal and fruit since getting back. Please, something not caked in grease!

On the drive back from the airport 4 hours away, we got ourselves in a snowstorm and of course I was driving. I don't like snow, I don't like ice, I don't like sliding on the road. But we got back OK.

Awkward presentation

I bet none of you have done this one. I am doing a presentation Thursday to a bunch of crazy teen girls about birth control and STDs. I knew my human sexuality class would come in handy one day!

I have been finding lots of grotty pictures from my textbooks and I am headed to Wal-mart to buy "examples" of contraception. Wouldn't you just love for me to give this talk to you in high school? Hmmmm? To add to all the fun, I was informed yesterday that what I thought was a one hour presentation is now two hours. So these poor girls have to listen to me talk about sex for 2 hours. The girls have had a chance to submit questions on paper and no one would know who the question came from. I figured that I would have tons of questions, but not one girl submitted a question. So now I have a board audience for 2 hours that apparently have no interest in sex. This should be an episode of Arrested Development.

Save the last.... episode

Alas, a horror has descended on my household. We have watched all the episodes of "Arrested Development."

You see my passion for this show started when the now Mrs. Juicebox started dating Mr. Juicebox. He introduced us to the wonder that is this show. I went out and bought the first season about 2 years ago and this spring hubby and I bought the second season. Mr. M trying to cheer me up one day, bought the third season a month ago. The last season is shorter and I tried so hard to space them out. I put off watching the last episode for about 2 weeks because I just could not bear that the show would then be really over. (Insert flowing tears here). I have watched all the deleted scenes, and the bloopers.

The funny thing is that I didn't like any of the character on the show, but they all worked together so well. I loved it. And now there is no more of it. No more wondering if the kissing cousins will kiss, I don't wonder is Tobias will admit he is gay, I don't wish a large rock will fall on Lucile. I can no longer plot Michel's escape from his family for him. I can't wonder if Gob will ever get the pimp slaps he deserves. What will happen if George finds out that Buster is really his brother's son?

A dark cloud hangs over my TV. Granted it is a small cloud since our TV is so small. No more "Arrested Development" to cheer my long cold winter nights in Montana.

Catch up

I apologize for my lack of posting the last few weeks. It has been crazy. I was in Dallas for a week, came back on a Tuesday at midnight. My grandmother died Saturday (as I was working the 3rd of 3 days). I was back on a plane Tuesday for the funeral on Wednesday and came back Thursday. So that has been my crazy life.

It has been so fast and crazy that I haven't had a whole lot of time to process it. I think the hardest part of this is watching my grandad. I called him two days ago to see how he is doing. He talked about how lonely the house is, but he can now walk by her picture without crying, so he thought that was some improvement.

They were married for 64 years and really liked each other the whole time. The week I visited my grandmother, she told me that they still danced in the kitchen sometimes, but it was harder to do these days.

Before the funeral my gandad gave me her watch. I remember looking at it ticking away and thinking how wrong it seemed that her life stopped and her watch kept ticking away. The only time life seems offensive is when there is death and it seems wrong that the rest of the world is full of life.

But what is really wrong is that we die. We weren't created to carve out just a few short years, or to die. We were created to live. Really live. I hate it when people say things like "it was his time" or "God needed another angel" or "it was meant to be." Because none of that is true. We are broken, our world we live in is broken. What really happens is that the place we live and the brokenness in us caught up with us.

I have seen a lot of dead bodies and many people die in my profession. Death is a vile and ugly thing. There is nothing graceful, peaceful or beautiful about it. We can sugar coat it, but it is what it is. We pretend that it's the way the world is supposed to work because we don't know anything better. But inside each of us is a reminder that there is supposed to be something different because when we hear of a death we treat it like it is wrong that it happened. When children die in a tragic accident or shooting, it is wrong. And though we accept it more easily, an older person dying is just as wrong.

I think that Bebo Norman's song Rita says it best. I have always liked this song's take on death. It is true, we live on a killing floor. I could not find a video, so I am posting the lyrics. It is a beautiful song, and I am sure you can find it on the web if you look hard enough.

Lay down softly in our sorrow
Lay down sister to die
And cover over, my sweet Father
Cover over her eyes

Your broken body, it cannot weather
The years your youth still longs to spend
So go down graceful, sleep with the angels
And wake up whole again

Cause it was not your time; that's a useless line
A fallen world took your life

But the God that sometimes can't be found
Will wrap Himself around you
So lay down, sister, lay down

Slower passing are the hours
To tell this tale that takes its time
But the finest moment, no man can measure
Is to look your Savior in the eyes

So take her tender to Your table
Take her from this killing floor
To taste the water that is forever
Let her be thirsty no more

It was not her time; that's a useless line
A fallen world took her life

But the God that sometimes can't be found
Will wrap Himself around you
So lay down, sister, lay down

And the God that sometimes can't be found
Will wrap Himself around you
So lay down, Rita, lay down

Peanut Butter

I have discovered 2 new uses for peanut butter.

1) Try dipping your tortilla chip in peanut butter, then dip in salsa. It sounds bizarre I grant you, but think Asian peanut sauce. Spicy, yet peanut.

2) Next time you are out of bread and are in the mood for some PBJ, toast a pita, insert peanut butter and spear some honey in there. Yum and fewer carbs then bread.

I am in Dallas for the next week, so any one who wants to hang out should call my cell or my parents.

How do you

My grandmother is dying. She only has a month or two left to live in this world. She and my granddad have been married for about 64 years. I have no idea what he will do.

My grandmother and I have butted heads over the years, (we are too much alike is the problem) but there are many things that I respect about her. She built a life with my grandfather for over 60 years. There are few people that have been married that long. She has had multiple surgeries over the years, but she always decides that she is going to get through this and not give up.

She keeps up with fashion and style better then me. Once in high school, she took me Christmas shopping at the Gap and talked about how all the magazines said lime green was the color of the season. I just stared at her. We bought a grey cardigan at my request. She redecorates her house every 10 years (and I inherit her cast offs and am glad to have them).

She wasn't too happy with my choice of A&M at first and wanted me to go to UT. I told her burnt orange clashed with my skin tone.

She adores my husband and is so happy for me. She is so glad that I am where I am.

She was raised on a dirt farm in Oklahoma during the depression. She was born into the Polk family and is proud of their heritage and roots. She loves football. My brothers go watch football games with her, and my husband says she know the game better then him.

She loves parties and throwing them. She truly is a Sothern belle.

Here is a picture of her dancing at my wedding with her nephew.
This is before I walked down the aisle.
I love this one.

Not on the run

For those of you who are unaware of some thing about my personal life, I have a confession to make. I am always constipated. I have been constipated my whole life. Some people are rushed to the emergency room as a child because of broken bones. Not me! I have never had a broken bone, just abdominal pain which took me to the ER.

But I have finally found a positive side to this problem. I can eat all the cherries I want! It is cherry season up here in the Flathead Valley and most people have to limit their consumption of this sweet, delicious fruit. I can eat a whole bag and go about my daily life in complete comfort. I can eat all the cherry crisp that is in my fridge. I can snack on them throughout the day, since my husband picked a bushel of them a few days ago and I am not motivated to learn to can. In short, it is nice to know that after years of pain and GI distress, along with threatened surgeries when you are 4, that there is something nice that I can get out of the experience. I am not sure it's worth it, but I try to look on the bright side.

Holiday

A few weeks ago, we went to Canada with a couple we know here. (Pictures pending). I had never been to Canada before so I get to add that to the list of exciting places I have visited. And a stamp on my passport.

Apparently it was a holiday weekend for Canada because everyone said it was a holiday, but no one knew what the holiday was. We asked about 10 people and they had no idea. They just knew that they didn't have to go to work on Monday. When pressing for information the National Park employee said that it was some sort of civic holiday. Really answered our curiosity. We had him call the visitor center and the visitor center had no idea what holiday it was. As my husband muttered "Too much land, not enough history."

Finally while waiting in line for a shower (we were camping), I found a lady who knew what holiday it was. Heritage Day. Apparently the national government tells the province's that they have to have a holiday that weekend, but leave it up to each province what holiday they want to have. So each province is running around making up a holiday and the calendar makers just put civic holiday on the day rather then list each province's holiday.

Panic Attack

A short story of my own sappiness. We went camping with the aforementioned brother and his family the weekend that they were here. We drove out Friday evening after work and on the way, I fell asleep as I usually do when riding in a car for more then 20 miles.

On Sat, Lonnie drove me back into town and I worked my 4 hour shift. The plan was for me to drive back in my car after work. Well, first I took a shower and grabbed a bite to eat after work. Then I drove out to where I thought the campsite was. After driving the same 3 miles several times and discovering 2 other campsites, I stopped to ask directions. The whole time I am thinking "what will I do if I can't find it? I could go back home, but I would have to sleep by myself! I haven't slept by myself in 6 months. I don't know if I could stand it" Turns out that the site is on the next lake, about 6 miles down the road. At this point it is over 3 hours since I got off of work.

I find the campsite only to discover that my dear hubby and his brother took off to try to call me. I pull out my cell phone thinking that perhaps I will pay the roaming fee this once. Huh! My phone doesn't even roam out there. Just searches and searches. So I use a pay phone and use a calling card number that I used in college that I had memorized at one time and had not used in 5 years. I have no idea how I remembered it. Called Lonnie's brothers cell phone and left several messages and finally got ahold of them. Turns out that they drove all the way back to town in order to get a signal. When they finally come back, my husband admits to me that he missed me and didn't want to sleep by himself either. And the next day, there were several sweet messages on our answering machine from him. So we are a sappy couple, I know.

And just because we are on a David Hasselhoff kick of bad music videos:


David Hasselhoff - Jump In My Car

4 small children and one crazy aunt

I am going to attempt to catch up on what has been going on up here for us. We have had lots of visitors and going places.

First Lonnie's brother, sister-in-law and 4 kids came to visit us for a week. Lots of fun, but those kids can really wear you out! "No, you can't feed the animals in a national park. No, you can't pick the protected wildflowers. You really don't want to see a bear." You get the idea.

Here is a picture of Lonnie and his nephew, Isaac, at Glacier.



Here is a good shot of a gorge we like to visit.

A shot during our hike to Hidden Lake. Lots more goats, but our camera ran out of batteries.

Home of the strange

So a few days ago I pick up the local newspaper and read this. Now there is a follow up article. What gets me is not so much the fact that there was an alligator in Montana, but the way the situation was handled. Gotta love it.

Huckleberries

I have always thought that Huckleberry was an invention of Mark Twain. After all, he made up a lot of crazy things. But I have finally learned that they are real. Huckleberries grow wild up here in the Montana mountains. No one has been able to domesticate them, so if you buy them at the store, they are about $40 a gallon. By the way, have you ever wondered where the phrase "I'll be your huckleberry" that Val Kilmer uses in Tombstone? Here is your answer.

Lonnie and I have gone out to pick them and can pick about a quart an hour. I got to the point where I just sat down in the middle of the patch, and picked. They are smaller and darker then blueberries and taste like a cross of blueberry and blackberry. We took Lonnie's family out to pick a few days ago, but they were mostly gone. We have been making Huckleberry milkshakes and Betsy and I made a desert yesterday involving melted marshmallow, whipped cream and graham cracker crust. Here is a picture of some Huckleberries.

Cherry season is in full force here though and love them. I have never like cherries much, because I don't like sour fruit. But the ones here are sweet and so good. I just snack on them throughout the day. Of course, I just paid $1.49 a piece for an avocado.

I am pleased...

I am pleased to announce the engagement of my friend Liz to her boyfriend Jeremy. There is a great record of my friends marrying Jeremys. Who could forget Jer-bear or Jeremy-marry-me? (Though I did assist in locking Jer-bear out of the house once, but I digress.) There are also several yet not nicknamed Jeremys married to my friends as well.

But back to Liz. Though I have yet to meet this Jeremy, everytime I talk on the phone with her about him, she is happy. There are always relationships I have seen various friends in that cause me to wonder, what the heck are you doing? But with Liz and Jeremy, they seem to be very well suited to each other (plus he got her the perfect ring). Liz is one of my best friends and I wish her the best.

Here and here are cute pictures of us. I think I will be sending her a copy of The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands for an engagement present. A most excellent book.

Glacier Park

Well, we went to Glacier Park with some of our friends last weekend. We went up to Logan Pass and here is a picture of us on the way up.



Here is a Billygoat mama with her baby goat. Isn't he a cutie?




Here am I (brave Montana woman) walking accross glaciers in shorts.

One of many waterfalls in the area.


If only a camera could really capture all this beauty.

City girl

I have to come to a new understanding about myself. I am, much to my chagrin, a city girl. I have made fun of those who don't know how to function past Frisco, but I have to admit a certain camaraderie with them. The following story will demonstrate this.

Lonnie and I both worked at our respective job on July 4th, but on the 3rd, he suggested we take a drive. So drive we did, in an attempt to find a bison range that he had heard about. Well, we over shot the bison range and found ourselves in Missoula, 121 miles from home. I was so excited, I could barely contain myself as we drove past the wonders that is Old Navy.

We found the college campus in town and walked around, and then my dear husband asked what I wanted to do. "Go to the mall" was my reply. So my husband took me to the mall and I reveled in stores such as Dillards and dropped $75 at the Gap. Though I got 6 items, not to bad. I felt complete and happy. And that is when I discovered that though I am content where I may be, I like the city. I love the shops, the Starbucks, and the vast array of restaurants that do not say "family dining". I love houses that don't have an acre yard to mow, and thought is put into landscaping. I like being on city sewage and having neighbors. I like having more then 2 major roads with which to navigate. I am a city girl. And I love the Gap.

We did find the bison rage on the way back, but it was late and the bison were not to be seen. However, we have decided that we will go again sometime. I just hope we miss it again.

Dang blogger

I am miffed at blogger for not letting me post the song the way I wanted to. It will not put spaces where they shoud be! If anyone can help me, please tell me what to do!

Theology of women. Part One

Wall's of Eden, sung by Pat Green

She holds the key to Eden's gate, Somewhere deep inside

When she gives to me her patience,

And a hundred smiles, none the same

Her eyes are the ocean, I am drowning constantly

I am lucky just to linger in the corners of her scene.

Chorus:

I am lost inside the walls of Eden

Don't you ever set me free

I am lost inside the walls of Eden

I'll never go back, no I'll never go back again.

End chorus

Outside the world's a bastard

The son whose father never cared

It keeps on raging like some crazy storm, but not in here.

Repeat chorus

All it cost me was my whole life, all it gives me is everything

A love like fire, the taste of skin

The feeling of falling again and again

It's a long drink from a cool well

It's everything, baby, it's everything, baby, it's everything

I am lost inside the wall's of Eden, don't you ever set me free

This will probably bore most of my readers so feel free to skip this post. You won't hurt my feelings. If you do read this post, I would love to hear comments, but know that this is only the tip of the ice burg and more thoughts are coming.

I have been doing a lot of thinking the last couple of years about what it means to be a woman, how this relates to men, and how it also relates to my relationship to the world around me and God. To give you some background, I was raised in a conservative evangelical tradition. Women don't preach, they submit to their husbands, and most stay at home with their kids. Now this plays out very differently in different places. Looking at most of the marriages of my parent’s friends and my own friends that are married, the wives are very valued by their husbands and there is a lot of love in the families. Most husbands don't attempt to be lord and master of their wives, and I would say that women still exert a fair amount of power in the home and at church.

What concerns me when looking at some of the more conservative strains within the evangelical church (and believe me, there are many types of people under the heading of evangelical), is that in an attempt to reconcile the family structure with the culture that we live in, we neglect what the Bible really does say about women and listen to some of the most ridiculous notions. All for the sake of being better women or wives, but placing women in positions that are ridiculous as well as, placing men in positions that are ridiculous as well. Most recently is a book that I am reading for a group that I foolhardily joined for the summer. Created to be His Helpmeet will make you want to pull your hair out. The use of Scripture is appalling, and I would add, dangerous. I will go over some of the books fallacies at a later time, but now I want to really look at the story of the first family.

[A quick aside: I am not going to address cases of physical abuse in this post. Most people, even those who believe in submission, believe that physical abuse is wrong. But I am saving that for another day.]

Genesis 1:27 is where we see the first reference to humans and/or women in the Bible. This is a HUGE verse. “God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” The author of Genesis goes back in chapter two to give more detail about the creation of mankind, but in chapter one, he is giving a summary. And in that summary, we find that BOTH men and women are created in God’s image. (This is where you imagine me jumping up and down to make this point.)

So, Deborah, you the intelligent reader may ask, why is this such a big deal? Because it means that women and not just men are created in the image of God. This sets the precedence for the rest of the discussion. I think that often we are confident that men are created in God’s image and we are not quite sure where women fit into all of that. Some readers may be uncomfortable with this, because God is a male, and am I trying to make Him into a woman? Nooooooo. (Again with the jumping!) But God is spirit and as one of my husband’s crazy seminary friends once pointed out, “God doesn’t have boy parts.” Men are created in God’s image and reflect His glory and women are created in God’s image and reflect His glory. God has chosen to relate to us in the male gender and how that all works out, I have no idea. But we are to assume that BOTH genders are created to image God.

This is such a huge deal, because I am running into people who believe that as women, we were created to only an assistant to our husbands fulfilling their dreams and abilities. Beyond the natural cringe that runs through you because if that was the only what we as women are created for, then why did God give us so many other abilities and desires, this verse reminds us of our true calling. To image God and glorify Him.