Soap for Jesus

I am cleaning out the chickens, bending over the chipboard floor, cleaning off the muck and disinfectant with a few scraps of kitchen towel. My MP3 plays out John Waller's "While I'm Waiting". Suddenly, I hear Dad calling my name and look up, removing one earplug from my ear. A horrendous racket hits my ear from some loudspeaker. Dad, grimly: It's Arabic. Me: It can't be!! It's Sunday, not Friday! I run to the fence and look over the next two gardens to the street, then turning my head to the right so I can catch a little more of it. I listen, intent. The Church of St. Peter's is chiming its bells. It is 10am. At first I think it could be someone driving around speaking the Gospel, since it is Sunday morning, and I cannot distinguish any words. Then I hear a slur on a sentence and I have no doubt. The accent is too clear. I turn to Dad: Why? Dad: Either because it's Sunday, or they could be calling out to their comrades because of what's going ...

Beleaguered with requests for photos, and having made promises to one or two people to blog on her - ie, Nick Holley and Jay Lauser , here is my promise fulfilled. I started on her birthday - November 10th, 2010, at 8:15pm. :P I finish today, the 22cd, at 1:00pm Smiling a little, I leaned down, tucking the quilt around my mother and kissing her cheek goodnight. Even as I silently moved across the room to tug off the lightswitch, she was still talking; drowsy, mumbling her words, but still talking. I've not seen Mom so verbal in ages. Although she was lacking 36 hours sleep, as soon as she had eaten her day-old homemade, reheated soup and drunk a cup of steaming, fragrant coffee, she sat there for ten minutes describing in vivid detail the birth of her latest grandchild - her first granddaughter. More amazing for me, I was sitting there with an inane grin spread over my face, highly excited over the recital, instead of landing in a heap on the floor! (I am useless with blood and gut...

I've just got back from a week away and have a BUNCH of blogs to post, but first! Now, my deeeeeeeearhh ladies and gents! Here's something to get that hidden Celtic blood of yours that runs deeply inside your sluggish stream stirring rapidly to the surface, spurring into life and flinging you into wildness. ;) Enjoy!

Argh! I'm in a crazy, wild, random mood again. Maybe it's cause I've let my fiery long red hair loose and it's a little bit of a windy day. Just picking out some DVDs to take to my sis's, (I'm going over there for a week - minus intervals for cadets and college) and was going between nice, gentle things like Lady and the Tramp and The Aristocats...and saw Gunfight at OK Corral. I love Gunfight at OK Corral. I think that's part of my wild side. *grins* I mean, look at these three piccies. *is rambling happily* I seriously love confusing people. Walking out in one costume and watching people's reactions and how they judge me based on which character I appear in. Modest, home educated, young Christian girl. Obviously OTT in the clothes idea. (Not as radical as some, I admit. ;) ) Confident, slightly arrogant, mature, independent Forces girl (ok, ok, I LOATHE being taken for Army). It's just so funny. Stereo types do little more - when I'm in a good ...