Well, we let the caterpillars out of their bug condo this morning. We had three of them in captivity for several days. Long enough to watch them, study them, etc. None of them cocooned, but that's okay. I think I know what they turn into.
I let them out on the same plant they came from. And while I was out there, this beautiful dark orange and black butterfly was flying all around Bekah and me. It got very close to us, landed on two plants very near us and stayed long enough for us to get a really good look at it. I think that our dark reddish and black caterpillars turn into this same butterfly. I saw the same type not too long ago as well. So, I will leave them alone. They can eat my passion flower vine. It is doing well anyway.
Be free butterflies!
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Friday, September 01, 2006
Nameless, but not Blameless
So, a few years ago, in a galaxy far, far away, way, way back when I was a teenager, I was going to a church with a pushy, aggressive pastor. He shall remain nameless, though not in the least bit blameless. He thought he needed to be in the middle of everything. He was supposed to be told about everything. He was in charge of every aspect of every person's life, whether they liked it or not. A dictator. Anyway, so, I was seventeen, and dating a boy in the church. We had just started to get serious and lo and behold, we ended up in a sort of awkward position of needing to confess our, ahem, indiscretions. Well, we decided together that we should seek the counsel of our pastor, since that is what we were led to believe was the right thing to do. The guy went to the pastor and they had a meeting - over breakfast at a restaurant. He got a verbal slap on the wrist and was told to not do that again. Oh, and are you going to be there for softball practice? After this, I met with him. In his office, behind closed doors. Boy, did I get it. He screamed at me. He told me that everything that I was doing, I was trying to "lure" men. From my acrylic fingernails to my 1966 Porsche 912 that I was driving at the time (this car cost next to nothing to purchase because Dad got a deal on it and cost NOTHING to fix, since he had all the parts - but that couldn't be why I was driving it). The way I dressed, the way I acted, all of it was me trying to get the attention of guys. I don't know where they all were watching this from, because they didn't seem to be within my range of view at the time. I never saw any of these men I was supposedly trying to lure. Considering the source of these accusations, I don't now consider them to be too terribly accurate, but at the time, well, I was young. I was of the impression that he knew what he was talking about. After all, he was a pastor and aren't they supposed to be kind, caring, compassionate? Well, some are not.
Anyway, so after getting verbally abused for quite a long period of time and being told that all that had transpired was MY fault and mine alone, I really didn't feel like participating in any of the reindeer games anymore. I was working at Bullock's in the Northridge Mall. The one that caved in on itself in the Northridge Earthquake eight years later. I told my boss at the time to put me on the schedule every Sunday, so I wouldn't have to see this yahoo. Well, that worked for quite some time. When I again showed my face at church, he inquired as to whether I had informed my parents about said indiscretions. No, I didn't feel they needed to know. Well, he, in his infinite wisdom, felt I DID need to tell my parents and informed me that if I did not, he would. He left me no choice. So, I sat my parents down and told them the whole story. Complete with the tell-the-parents threat. While they were glad to have been informed, they were needless to say, rather unimpressed about the way it all came about. And about their daughter taking the ENTIRE blame for the incident. So, we had a meeting. This pastor and his wife, my mom, dad, me, my sister and brother-in-law. In retrospect, I don't know why they were there, but they were. So, here we are, all seven of us, sitting in my parents living room, talking about the way I was counseled (I use the term very loosely here). And this guy went off. How dare my parents question the way he counseled me? Did they not know that he had lots of experience counseling teenagers and dealing with them? How dare they ask why he did what he did? When they told him that they may leave the church over this, he informed them that they could not TELL him they were leaving the church, they must ASK him if they could leave the church. He turned to my dad, who likes to have the whole story before determining his position and blasted him for letting his wife (my mom) do all the talking. Questioned him as to why he would let his wife ask all the questions. The pastor was so angry that he was jumping up and down in my parents house and at one point, slammed his hand against the fireplace in anger, I guess to make his point. The fireplace didn't budge. The rest of us had eyes as big as saucers. Uh, disbelief. Total. Even his wife. Although she hardly said anything as I recall.
This was the beginning of the end. I stopped going to church. This and a couple of other incidents put me over the top. Didn't have a problem with God, just some of the people running the place. I really didn't go back to church hardly at all until we ended up at the CEC. (A few months at another church where they were a startup and the pastor bounced a check to me for $300 for something I bought for the church and then asked if they could make payments on it. That only added fuel to the distrust fire.)
This was also the beginning of the end for this pastor. I believe I was the first in a very long series of people that got verbally abused and mis-treated by him. His "counseling" sessions left a lot to be desired. His ministry, if you can call it that, never recovered. He apparently ended up being demoted in the church hierarchy and eventually ended up being a janitor or something. His current position is somewhat lower on the proverbial totem pole than what I am sure he ever anticipated. Well, you know, when you beat up the sheep instead of trying to protect them, I don't think God looks too kindly upon that.
There was one woman at that church who had severe emotional trauma. Going back to when she was a child. Horrible abuse. She would have flashbacks at inopportune times. She liked to sit in the front of the church so that her mind would not wander and she could concentrate more easily. Well, he did not want her to disrupt the service. To my knowledge she never did. But he told her to sit in the back of the church so she wouldn't bother anybody else. Nice.
He was pastor of that church and living in the house owned by that church. Life was good. Well, he was eventually removed as pastor, had to move out of the house and did a short stint as a car salesman. Talk about change. Don't mess with the sheep.
No, I was not perfect. But I was not the person he made me out to be either. And it had a rather devastating negative effect on my life for about fifteen years or so. Bummer. Glad I found the CEC. God is good. Healing is good.
You can find it too, at www.iccec.org
Anyway, so after getting verbally abused for quite a long period of time and being told that all that had transpired was MY fault and mine alone, I really didn't feel like participating in any of the reindeer games anymore. I was working at Bullock's in the Northridge Mall. The one that caved in on itself in the Northridge Earthquake eight years later. I told my boss at the time to put me on the schedule every Sunday, so I wouldn't have to see this yahoo. Well, that worked for quite some time. When I again showed my face at church, he inquired as to whether I had informed my parents about said indiscretions. No, I didn't feel they needed to know. Well, he, in his infinite wisdom, felt I DID need to tell my parents and informed me that if I did not, he would. He left me no choice. So, I sat my parents down and told them the whole story. Complete with the tell-the-parents threat. While they were glad to have been informed, they were needless to say, rather unimpressed about the way it all came about. And about their daughter taking the ENTIRE blame for the incident. So, we had a meeting. This pastor and his wife, my mom, dad, me, my sister and brother-in-law. In retrospect, I don't know why they were there, but they were. So, here we are, all seven of us, sitting in my parents living room, talking about the way I was counseled (I use the term very loosely here). And this guy went off. How dare my parents question the way he counseled me? Did they not know that he had lots of experience counseling teenagers and dealing with them? How dare they ask why he did what he did? When they told him that they may leave the church over this, he informed them that they could not TELL him they were leaving the church, they must ASK him if they could leave the church. He turned to my dad, who likes to have the whole story before determining his position and blasted him for letting his wife (my mom) do all the talking. Questioned him as to why he would let his wife ask all the questions. The pastor was so angry that he was jumping up and down in my parents house and at one point, slammed his hand against the fireplace in anger, I guess to make his point. The fireplace didn't budge. The rest of us had eyes as big as saucers. Uh, disbelief. Total. Even his wife. Although she hardly said anything as I recall.
This was the beginning of the end. I stopped going to church. This and a couple of other incidents put me over the top. Didn't have a problem with God, just some of the people running the place. I really didn't go back to church hardly at all until we ended up at the CEC. (A few months at another church where they were a startup and the pastor bounced a check to me for $300 for something I bought for the church and then asked if they could make payments on it. That only added fuel to the distrust fire.)
This was also the beginning of the end for this pastor. I believe I was the first in a very long series of people that got verbally abused and mis-treated by him. His "counseling" sessions left a lot to be desired. His ministry, if you can call it that, never recovered. He apparently ended up being demoted in the church hierarchy and eventually ended up being a janitor or something. His current position is somewhat lower on the proverbial totem pole than what I am sure he ever anticipated. Well, you know, when you beat up the sheep instead of trying to protect them, I don't think God looks too kindly upon that.
There was one woman at that church who had severe emotional trauma. Going back to when she was a child. Horrible abuse. She would have flashbacks at inopportune times. She liked to sit in the front of the church so that her mind would not wander and she could concentrate more easily. Well, he did not want her to disrupt the service. To my knowledge she never did. But he told her to sit in the back of the church so she wouldn't bother anybody else. Nice.
He was pastor of that church and living in the house owned by that church. Life was good. Well, he was eventually removed as pastor, had to move out of the house and did a short stint as a car salesman. Talk about change. Don't mess with the sheep.
No, I was not perfect. But I was not the person he made me out to be either. And it had a rather devastating negative effect on my life for about fifteen years or so. Bummer. Glad I found the CEC. God is good. Healing is good.
You can find it too, at www.iccec.org
Thursday, August 31, 2006
International Blogging Day?
Who ever heard of such a thing. Apparently it was yesterday. Who knew? Well, happy International Blogging Day to all of you out in Blogland, You know who you are! I am supposed to refer you to some good blogs. Here goes:
http://barrierislandgirl.blogspot.com/ Nice beach pictures
http://blackpurlsknitpickings.blogspot.com/ This one is great! A missionary family in Krasnodar Russia. Very interesting.
http://mercylane.blogspot.com/ She quilts, she writes, she scrapbooks. So cool. And she photographs the most beautiful creations she has made!
Go and see for yourselves! Happy belated blog day.
http://barrierislandgirl.blogspot.com/ Nice beach pictures
http://blackpurlsknitpickings.blogspot.com/ This one is great! A missionary family in Krasnodar Russia. Very interesting.
http://mercylane.blogspot.com/ She quilts, she writes, she scrapbooks. So cool. And she photographs the most beautiful creations she has made!
Go and see for yourselves! Happy belated blog day.
Yeah, they want me...
I got a letter from the Cambridge Who's Who. I am "being considered for inclusion into the 2006/2007 Cambridge Who's Who Among Executive and Professional Women "Honors Edition" of the Registry." The letter goes on to say that "Recognition of this kind is an honor shared by thousands of executive and professional women throughout America each year. Inclusion is considered by many as the single highest mark of achievement."
They want me.
They are about six years too late, though. I was at the height of my career with the mortgage company, doing mortgage licensing for thirty states, for branch offices in six states, the Home Mortgage Disclosure Act filing for HUD as well as licensing for HUD, filing with the California Department of Corporations for our California Mortgage Lenders license, Human Resources administration for 80 employees in Los Angeles and overseeing approx. 30 employees around the country. Oh, and Executive Secretary to two "executives" who ran around, cheated on their wives, went to the corporate apartment with their girlfriends for "lunch" and generally behaved like spoiled brats. But they were nice to me.
Who's Who should have contacted me then.
Now, I am in charge of two rambuctious children. I have never been more busy. They wouldn't want me now. They should have talked to me then.
Oh well. Another time in my life. I guess when I get back in the work force, I will have to get in touch with them. Maybe the offer will still stand.
Ya think?
They want me.
They are about six years too late, though. I was at the height of my career with the mortgage company, doing mortgage licensing for thirty states, for branch offices in six states, the Home Mortgage Disclosure Act filing for HUD as well as licensing for HUD, filing with the California Department of Corporations for our California Mortgage Lenders license, Human Resources administration for 80 employees in Los Angeles and overseeing approx. 30 employees around the country. Oh, and Executive Secretary to two "executives" who ran around, cheated on their wives, went to the corporate apartment with their girlfriends for "lunch" and generally behaved like spoiled brats. But they were nice to me.
Who's Who should have contacted me then.
Now, I am in charge of two rambuctious children. I have never been more busy. They wouldn't want me now. They should have talked to me then.
Oh well. Another time in my life. I guess when I get back in the work force, I will have to get in touch with them. Maybe the offer will still stand.
Ya think?
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Well, if these two can get along...
Hamster, snake best friends at Tokyo zoo
'I've never seen anything like it,' zookeeper says of unlikely pairing
Jan. 18, 2006
TOKYO - Gohan and Aochan make strange bedfellows: one's a 3.5-inch dwarf hamster; the other is a yard-long rat snake.
Zookeepers at Tokyo's Mutsugoro Okoku zoo presented the hamster - whose name is a tasty rice dish in Japanese - to Aochan as a snack in October, after the snake refused to eat frozen mice.
But instead of indulging, Aochan decided to make friends with the furry rodent, according to keeper Kazuya Yamamoto. The pair have shared a cage since.
"I've never seen anything like it. Gohan sometimes even climbs onto Aochan to take a nap on his back," Yamamoto said.
Aochan, a 2-year-old male Japanese rat snake, eventually developed an appetite for frozen rodents but has so far shown no signs of gobbling up Gohan - despite her name.
"We named her Gohan as a joke," Yamamoto chuckled. "But I don't think there's any danger. Aochan seems to enjoy Gohan's company very much."
The Tokyo zoo also keeps a range of mostly livestock animals, and promotes "cross-breed interaction," according to Yamamoto.
But Gohan and Aochan's case was "was a complete accident."
MY Chili Tastes Like Crap
Well, my husband generally likes my cooking. But not my chili. This came up on Sunday when, at the PoFolks Potluck Joann made chili. HERS was good, mine is crap. Just ask my husband. He was telling others at the table about how bad my chili is. Well, he was going on about how good Joann's chili was. Has been ever since. Stupid Joann. She's making me look bad. I had bought a packet of Carroll Shelby's Chili mix because my husband said he likes that kind. Said Joann's tastes like it. I made it for dinner. I didn't like it. Not much. He didn't like it much, either. Said there was too much meat, not enough beans. JOANN's chili had more beans than meat and it is BETTER that way. Just ask my husband. He said everything else I make is good. My chili - not so much. That's being too nice. He hates it. The chili I made tonight, he ate most of it. Jessica loved it. She also loves my chili. Said my chili is the best. What a good girl. I am not making chili at home anymore. It is the one thing we don't agree on.
Stupid chili.
Stupid chili.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
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