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19 november The More Stuff We Have...The more stuff we have the more we want, until we eventually become no more than the accumulation of all our stuff - shallow vessels of wants and desires. The more stuff we have around and in our daily activities, the more likely we are to be stressed.
The more we have, the more we have to take care of and then we need to earn more money to maintain and take care of all the stuff. The more stuff we have the more bins, containers, boxes, and storage solutions we need. Big Box & Container stores have created a whole industry out of it as proof.
Unfortunately, the more stuff we have, whether in our home or packed into our thoughts, the less peace and spaciousness we experience.
We should be living that simple life but we have traded it for a life full of stress and business and trying to get more stuff, and keeping all that stuff for ourselves. We have convinced ourselves that the more stuff we have the more successful we are.
We tell ourselves that we need big houses to hold all of our stuff and big cars to transport our stuff. Then we buy houses we cannot afford and lease cars that will never be ours. As a result, we spend most of our money on credit card payments for all that stuff.
We have so much stuff we don’t even use that we buy pressboard furniture to store it in. Why? It’s because we don’t have room for it all. We are so stuck in the vicious cycle of “more stuff” we don’t take the time to reflect on it.
Truth-be-told, the more stuff we have the more time it takes to manage it all. In all probability, the single greatest anchor that keeps people weighed down is the encumbrance of "stuff", you know, all that crap we accumulate because we are conditioned to believe that the more stuff we have the more successful we must be or the happier we will be.
In fact, the more stuff we have, the more likely our mind will be consumed with thoughts about that stuff – what to do with it, how to take care of it, how not to lose it. And, we will be moved further and further from a sense of fullness and abundance. What we have to remember is that the more stuff we have and/or want, the more we are slaves to it.
Do we truly need all that stuff? 12 november Christmas is...For the longest time, Christmas was my favorite time of year. A lot has changed since then and my thoughts and feelings have matured. I continue to love the sights and sounds of the season, but I have a different outlook on it. Christmas is not just about trees and homes lavishly decorated from top to bottom with twinkling lights, glittering ornaments, and bow-strung-garland. It is remembering Jesus Christ's birth and honoring it.
Christmas time finds many people travelling great distances to come home to be with family and friends. It is a time for love, and sharing. It is a time to come together with loved ones to celebrate the season with pure hearts and giving spirits and to enjoy each other's company. For many others, this is one of the only times they will go to church together.
Christmas is both a holiday and a holy day. Christmas is for giving love, companionship and laughter. Christmas is for giving -- period. It is about the only time of year some of us get to see relatives outside our immediate family. Christmas is about making memories, the kind that last forever.
Most of all Christmas is the perfect time to give thanks for our blessings. With the year almost over we can look back and give special thanks for the blessings that brought us through to the present. Another wonderful thing I’ve learned is that Christmas is a time to forgive and forget. It is the ideal time to let go of perceived injustices and end the year with a clean slate and a clean heart. Being thankful and forgiving is a blessing for us and for those we forgive.
Spreading joy and happiness is the best thing we can do for ourselves and for others at Christmas. Many of us have a few family traditions that we love. Personally, my grown kids and I still go hang out with their grandmothers on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. The grandmothers love it! They get the biggest kick out of being waited on ‘hand-and-foot’. “Bring me a little dressing, would you get me a glass of punch, bring me a piece of pie while you’re in the kitchen”, is the cry of the day. They know they can ask and receive without any “lip”.
Whether you are looking forward to the yuletide festivities or just a time to relax, Christmas is welcomed each and every year. And let us remember, the joyous gift of Christmas is God's gift to us – His Son, Jesus. What are some of your traditions? 19 oktober Insecure Negative PeopleLast week I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen for many years. We lost touch when we both married and moved. Excited happy and glad to have bumped into each other again, we took our re-union to the nearest restaurant to chat some more and catch up. Ten minutes into our meet-up, I realized why we hadn’t stayed in touch, why I hadn’t looked her up.
Every other sentence out of her mouth was a complaint or a negative comment. Her husband doesn’t treat her right, her kids don’t call and visit her as much as they should, her doctor doesn’t believe her when she says she’s sick, and on and on and on. Not one good thing spewed forth from her lips.
Twenty minutes later I glanced quickly at my watch, gasped for breath and, excused myself. I had to go. The whole encounter had me on the verge of a major depressive attack. It started me thinking about negative and insecure people.
I find that insecure and/or negative people are extremely needy and miserable people to be around. They are that way for a lot of reasons. Many insecure people may have been raised in a chaotic, unpredictable or volatile environment in which they were kept off balance, on guard or on edge. Some turn inward, becoming self-obsessed – “It’s all about me.” They typically have unrealistic expectations and sometimes unconsciously overcompensate for their poor self-image by thinking they're better than other people.
Negative/insecure people will often insult or bully others to make themselves feel better. They tend to be very defensive and cannot handle criticism. They usually find scapegoats for their problems, never realizing that they are causing the problems themselves. Also, they tend to point out the shortcomings of others, even if untrue, in order to cover up for their own perceived inadequacies.
In the end I concluded that “Not all insecure people are haters, but all haters are insecure people.”
What do you think happens to make them that way? Can anything be done for them? Do you know any negative or insecure people? How do you handle it/them? 05 oktober Bit-mo' & the Man in the Moon
There was an old saying that started with, "He don't bit-mo"... and, it ended with, "than a man in the moon!" The saying had words between bit-mo and the man in the moon. Sometimes a few, sometimes more. But, the meaning was unmistakable. I didn't wonder about that old saying back then, never thought much about its origin, that is...until lately. A few months ago mister papa dellgirl began to tell me his plans for completing a project that has been in the works for a long while. I listened patiently, nodded appropriately, grunted or sighed whichever response his confused ramblings elicited from my flabbergasted brain. He had it all planned out down to the last detail, every meandering syllable. Oh, LAWDY! When he finished, I reiterated; just to be sure he knew that I heard and understood him. He nodded in agreement as I did my reiterating. Whereby upon concluding my reiteration I asked sweetly, "What are we going to do with X if we do it that way, Honey?" You would have thought I hit him up side the head. His impatience with my inability to see his logic beamed through loud and clear. "Dang, dellgirl. You sure do know how to make it hard for me, you didn't listen to a word I said." Then it dawned on me. "He don't bit-mo know what he's doing than the man in the moon! I've revisited "Bit mo' and the man in the moon" several more times since papa's and my conversation. I find that a good many people "don't bit-mo' know what they're doing or saying than a man in the moon!" © 2009 by Leona G. Shankle 01 oktober Dinner & a Movie
Saturday September 19th:
The shrill sound of the phone interrupts my concentration, on the
adorable commercial about the talking pot-hole. Dang, I love that
commercial! Baby son on the phone, I have to take this. I love hearing
from that kid. He promised earlier in the week to pick me up and take
me to his house. ![]() "Hey, ma. How are you, what are you doing?" "Hey, yourself kiddo. I'm fine, not doing a thing. Just watching this cute little commercial. What's up?" "I'll pick up in an hour if you're ready." He said. I smile and respond, "I'm ready, see you in an hour." Forty-five minutes later he rings the doorbell and I grab my purse and head for the door. The short trip to his house is shorter than usual as we chat, joke,and laugh the whole way. At his house, he opens the door to let me in while he gathers his packages from the car. I busy myself by looking around while he puts away his things. We finish at the same time and settle down to visit for a bit and talk some more. "Ma, have you ever had shrimp tacos before?" he asked, springing to his feet. "Ummm, don't think I have, why?" I questioned. He's halfway to the kitchen before I finish answering, I follow wondering what he's up to. He removes foods from the fridge, places it on the counter and begins to prepare our dinner. While the shrimp boils, he chops and shreds lettuce, tomatoes, and onion. We talk a mile-a-minute as he works and in no time everything is ready. We take our food to eat and watch Twilight Zone movies. Naturally, we miss most of the movie - talking. Wow, the shrimp tacos are really delicious, very tasty! They are also rather filling, just one has me as-full-as-a-tick. Now that we're full we get quiet to watch a little of the movie. Too much stillness and quietness has us both nodding and dozing so I suggest that he can take me home whenever he's ready. That way he can get back home himself and get some much-needed rest. What a suprisingly wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon - making memories. Life doesn't get much better than this. 25 september An Unplanned Absence Last week didn’t go quite the way I’d planned. It wasn’t the kick back and relax, blog hopping comment leaving week I had envisioned. It’s been a see-saw of nerve-tingling chaos and sleep provoking quiet around here. It has also been a gorgeously beautiful week; sunny, with mild temperatures mostly - - a very nice week indeed.
I’ve been on an unplanned break from blogging writing and everything else computer related. It’s good to be back but, the question is, what do I do after this unplanned absence? Update blogs and sites, visit friends’ blogs and chat with them? Write something profound? What? I have no idea. Let’s hope I am not 50 miles behind like I was last time an unplanned break waylaid me. But then, what can I expect? Okay, I’m behind. I’ll either catch up or I won’t.
I have no desire to “THINK” right now so I might need to continue this break for several more days - - to get my mind back into it. Since I've been offline most of the week, I am starting to feel like I might never get the urge to blog again.
What a nice way to close out the week. I’m really looking forward to a more mellow and peaceful weekend ahead.
Okay, enough moaning and groaning! I have a lot of visiting and catching up to do.Keep the porch light on, I'm coming. 18 september Up At the Crack of Dawn! That's 7:00am dellgirl-Texas time; crack-of-dawn somewhere. I grab my trusty old broom and dustpan and, get busy sweeping out trash and debris. Be sure to get behind that chair and under the desk really "good". Make the room sparkle and shine brightly for this glorious new sunshiny day.A smooth flowing fine-point writing pen is my broom and a pretty new fabric-covered journal is my dustpan. The pen records the jumbled clutter that infests the corners of my sleep-filled mind. The journal, my dustpan, holds the brain-garbage I want to dump. Ummmm...maybe the journal is a trash can instead of a dustpan.
Okay, okay! So, what is the purpose of these early morning journaling exercises? The purpose is to help me learn some things about myself. What exactly is it I am supposed to learn about myself by journaling at ridiculously early hours of the morning, when I could be sleeping?
Well, I will learn what I like and what I don't like.
I started this so, I will continue with it. It certainly can't hurt, except to cause me to loose some sleep. What about you, do you journal? What do you think of the concept? Does it clear your mind of clutter? Does it help uncover anything you did not know on a conscious level? Does it open you up for greater creativity? 15 september Name Your Poison This is the result of taking medications to: lower cholesterol, ease sinus congestion, lose weight, get rid of allergies, overcome insomnia, etc. And the latest, I saw tonight for the first time, to grow longer prettier eye lashes. To be fair though, they do warn us about possible side effects. They clearly state that some side effects have been reported. Those side effects include unexplained muscle pain or weakness, diarrhea, joint pains, and tiredness. And, that's what they DO tell you. The fine print goes into more detail, things they don't tell you. It reads, "Additionally, the following side effects have been reported in general use: allergic reactions (which may require treatment right away) including swelling of the face, lips, tongue, and/or throat that may cause difficulty in breathing or swallowing, rash, and hives; joint pain; muscle aches; alterations in some laboratory blood tests; liver problems; inflammation of the pancreas; nausea; dizziness; tingling sensation; depression; gallstones; inflammation of the gallbladder. It further states: "Tell your doctor if you are having any of these or any other medical problems while taking this medication. For a "complete" list of side effects, ask your doctor or pharmacist." Go figure. Now, I've got to go take my h/bp meds. Without a doubt, some of these are a necessary evil, what can we do? What about you? How far are you willing to go when it comes to taking prescription medications? Where will you draw the line? 10 september Music: My Passion My Love
I woke up this morning with a tune in my head and it won’t go away. Every step I take every move I make, it’s there – skipping merrily through parks and playgrounds of my brain. Usually I can only stop the music in my head by playing the tune over and over until I’ve overdosed on it. Have you ever had a tune stuck in your head that won’t go away? How can I explain it? Music is my love and my life; it is the heart of my soul. It is a manifestation of where I’ve come from, of where I am at any given moment in time. Music is what I live for, it is an experience. Music is a growth; it’s energizing, exciting, expressive and, dramatic. Good music makes my insides flutter with excitement. My head moves up down and sideways rhythmically, shoulders sway back and forth to the tune. My feet go tap, tap, tap, to the beat with a mind-of-their-own. Soon I’m up moving twirling swirling and dancing around the room like a child on Christmas morning. Music is an expression that all can embrace, interpret, and feel. It is an expression that will never die and will constantly be created and twisted into enjoyable melodic prose. Music is like an antidote, it helps reduce stress, it is what I can depend on when many things in life are not trustworthy. Music is my sanity and my passion; a way to escape the physical world and express ideas and emotions. Music is a link to my dreams which helps me to relax, visualize and create. Music is love, devotion, precise, discipline, and adoration and it brings me closer to God. © 2009 by Leona G. Shankle 03 september I'll Always Remember The 3rd Of September
The past week or so I've had to work really hard to overcome some sad feelings. When they first started I'd shake the feeling and move on. Yesterday it dawned on me, September 3rd is the day my daddy died so it took a while longer to get-myself-together. Today wasn't so bad as I spent time riding with Jordyn running errands. Back at home I realized what my problem was...thoughts of Daddy. Last year I posted the following. I am re-posting it in its entirety -- just because. ____________________________________________ I'll Always Remember the 3rd Of September "It was the third of September. That day I'll always remember, yes I will. 'Cause that was the day that my daddy died." "That is as far as the similarities of Daddy and the lyrics of the song go. Beyond that, nothing else in the song applies. The music is - the hook. September 3, 1988 was the day my daddy died. The phone rang about 9 p.m. and a family friend informed me that Daddy was "gone". Not understanding or not wanting to understand, I question, "Gone? Gone where?" She answers, "Your mom asked me to call and tell you that your daddy passed away. He's gone." Suddenly a dark cloud covers me like a blanket. I can't cry like I want to. My nine year old is right here, I have to keep it all together for him. Hubby hovers characteristically close, waiting for my reaction. He asks if I'm okay or if I want to go outside with him. "I'm okay," I reassure him. The older two kids are at a football game. Jordyn is a cheerleader, oldest son is on the team. I want to go home - now -but, I have to wait for the kids to get here. I excuse myself with "I need to go and pack so everything will be ready." In the privacy of the bedroom my tears flow unchecked, but only momentarily, the baby is at the door wanting in. I quickly dry my tears shake myself together and get on with the business of packing. With a million and one thoughts crowding my numb brain, I silently occupy my self and wait. Finally, the older kids are home, hubby has the car packed and I gather them around to tell them about Papa. They react as expected, tearfully, grief-stricken and full of questions. Among explanations and reassurances I head them toward the car for the long painful ride home. All is quiet in the backseat after a few miles and I am thankful for the darkness that conceals the anguish that now consumes me. The journey through the thick East Texas woods is quiet, the silence broken only occasionally by a question from hubby about how I am doing. We arrive at Mama's about 2 or 2:30 a.m. Rousing the kids from their sleep we gather our luggage and start for the front door, for the beginning of a life without Daddy. At the steps I stifle the threatening tears, catch my breath, grit my teeth and prepare to go inside. I have no idea what lies ahead or what it is like to lose someone this close. I do know that a special light has gone out, a era has come and gone. And with it, the love of my life - my daddy.* * * * * * * * * * Today, September 3, 2009 I am left with Daddy's . . ."Legacy of Love". © 2008 by Leona G. Shankle - All Rights Reserved ▪ Dell Girl Publishing |
Jutta 尤塔布 .....zegt:
![]() ![]() ggglg Jutta
Ich finde nichts was falsch dran wäre,
diese Homepage hat Atmosphäre. Gerne schreib ich hier, der Gruß, er kommt von mir ..ღღღღღღღღღ............ღღღღღღღღღ.. Hello my dear friend! A friend is... That gives us courage,but wants the courage too. One who opens a door,but you can close it too. That gives us a push,but want to be pushed too. He who vibrates with our success and we with it too. He who resists his envy,but it is also resistant to our He who gives us his love,but also wants to be cherished. One who makes us pay little,but little is charged as well. He who comforts us,but who wants to be comforted too. One who accompanies us,but whatever company as well. He who gives us his heat,but also wants to be heated. He who gives us his love,but who wants to be loved too. He who gives us his friendship,and want a friend too .... I wish you a beautiful week! One thousand Kisses Jutta
7 Nov.
Patche Wilkinsonzegt:
Hi Leona;
As alway's ...you have great picture's and blog's :0)
Have a 'Wonderful Week End'
6 Nov.
20 Okt.
P.B.JosephineBo.P .zegt:
Dear Friend Leona , Wish You A Prety Sundy And A Good Start In The New Week .... Josephine
18 Okt.
P.B.JosephineBo.P .zegt:
18 Sept.
I'm beginning to look like the "RUBBER-BAND-MAN" - stretched...
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