Brain Farts

Every now and again my brain dos something ridiculous that embarrass me. we call them Brain Farts.

I had a friend who took me in to shop and a couple of a ppointments. We happily went through TimH’s drive thru and bought sandwhiches. She handed them over for m4 to hold while she ran an errand. She said to go ahead and eat. So I did. the sandwhiches where not labelled so I grabbed the top one. by the time she got back I realized I had just eaten her lunch. OOPS!!she was forgiving and said “You ar allowed brain farts now and then” What a gracious friend!

kristin and IThis is one of my people who made going to  a nursing home more pleasant than it was. She has been a true friend and incredibly intuitive in her helpfulness. S thankful for people like Kristin who have come to us and ministered to us in many ways.


Nice Bread

Here we were, at our friend’s house. Our whole family there to enjoy Valentine’s Day supper. They can COOK! Oh my. Fancy appetizers, background music, soup, main course with Salmon from Heaven and salads. They brought out the GOOD stuff and we were relaxing and chatting with background music on the speakers.

We got talking about food (or had we even stopped) and I was talking about the pictures that she’s shared on FB with all this cooking,  and I said “You look like you have nice bread!”

Today, The Reverend came home and said “You know when you told our friends that she had nice bread last night?” Well, yes…”I thought you said that she had nice *brea*ts.”


He said that everyone looked shocked with me because of what they thought I was saying was that I was complimenting her chest. I didn’t even noticed shocked looks… Then I blathered on about her incredible BREAD and they understood what I meant. For a few moments though, I was being highly complimentary on our hosts non-cooking skills but bodily parts.

There was background music, people and I said BREAD. She really does have nice bread.

I have learned that my mouth doesn’t necessarily make all the sounds as clearly as what it used to so when I am in conversation with you and I say something out of character or ludicrous, please know I was probably complimenting you somehow.

There’s my embarrassing story for now…Do you have any?

Not THAT funny

I’ve been known to make a morbid joke about my life with pain, loss and general mayhem, but there are some things that aren’t that funny. Well, ok, there is ALWAYS a little something somewhere if you look really really hard.

So, what we had told to us last night was not funny at all. Not.At.All.

I have a brain lesion on the right temporal lobe of my brain. See? Not funny. As most of you actually know me in real life, you know this already. If you don’t know me in real life, sorry for the jolt. There is no fun way of putting that.

And yet…I still find something to mock. I mock the little lesion in my head. I told The Reverend that I wanted to name it. He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. *shrug* What can I do? I lost it a long time ago. Now I have proof.

Back up a little. While we were talking with the dr in the surreal atmosphere of his office after waiting for 2 hours, I asked him what a lesion would look like. He said it was not uniform. I asked if it would look like an octopus. I’m a visual learner, dudes. He said that it was an accurate analogy.

So back to the van convo. I said that I wanted to name it. I said that “Sushi” would be a fun name. If we had to live with this thing for a few days/weeks then maybe a name would be appropriate, and funny. Ok, so not appropriate, but it would make me laugh. We laughed a bit about it. Octopus, sushi…get it? It made sense to me…

Then later when I was giggling about it my son left the room. He was obviously upset. I let him go for the moment. My daughter said “Mom, you know how octopus eat? They capture their prey and then go *chomp chomp chomp*” At that point the name “Sushi” no longer amused me. Octopus may be friendly in children’s books but not so much in my head.

‘Nuf said.

I went to my son and apologized making light of it. He said “It is not funny at ALL Mom! You could…I don’t want to say it…”

So, it’s not funny that I have a rude intruder in my head, but I am trusting in the Maker of Heaven and Earth to move this “little” mountain and bring me to health and wholeness. We are only beginning this part of the journey. As a friend of mine said today “It’s just the beginning of another chapter”. As a writer I can appreciate that.

You haven’t seen the last of me yet. I will surely find something inappropriate to laugh about on this journey. Whether or not I’ll be able to type about it remains to be seen but when I do, feel free to laugh. Please. It would make me feel a lot better and now you feel like you have to laugh. See? Easy.

Pastor’s Kids are NORMAL

You know your Pastor’s Kids are “normal” when

1. They kick and scream on their way out of the church service

2. You have to carry them out kicking and screaming only after giving them “the Look”.

3. After having a potluck with red juice you cannot stop your kid from throwing things off the second level balcony

4. Your kid steals from the missionary kids

5. Your kid yells out “This is BORING.” or swears uncharacteristically at a bad time.

6. They have an insatiable desire to take communion because it’s food late in the service.

7. They offer to help in Nursery

8. They are willing to have company over at the blink of an eye.

9. They know all the lines to Veggie Tales songs and refuse to watch another one.

10. They feel free to run and give Daddy a hug up on stage.


I love being in ministry and hope to be in this with my family for many years. It has been the most crazy, rewarding, humbling and fun time ever.


The Alpha Girl!!

A few months back we had a birthday party for one of my children. The little girls invited to the party decided to play house. There was nothing particularity alarming about little girls playing “house” until…

Suddenly, there was a sharp increase in volume and it quickly turned into a cacophony of bossy voices. It turns out that  all of them were not happy until they could all claim the title of “Mommy”. One unexpectedly yelled out “I want to be the teenager!”  But she couldn’t be heard because of the arguing Mommies. Mayhem was about to make sure this birthday party would end in a brawl. Then a diminutive yet clear voice rang out from the chaos  “YOU, be the mommy. YOU, be the daddy. YOU over THERE, be the teenager and the rest of you be babies.” They all fell into the roles assigned to them. Problem solved and happy play continued.

Alpha Girl emerged from the crowd and saved the day! Every one agreed with the tiny but strong leader and play commenced.The one who wanted to play the teenager was thrilled to get the part. Not just everyone wants to play the part of the moody teenaged girl when playing house.

What I thought would be a shy group of girls turned out to be a very well put together group. Some leadership qualities show up young. It’s not every day you see a leader short in stature rise above the crowd and put order back into a Celebration.

You have a COOL mom!

Alberta Highway 16

Alberta Highway 16 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My son’s face fell when he heard the news that The Reverend was not able to drive he and his two friends to an event that night. I looked at him and said “You don’t think I’m cool?”  My son finds it hard to hide the truth. “Um, uh, well, oh, um….” He tried.

It was official, my eleven year old didn’t think I was cool.

“So, what you are saying is that your Dad is cooler than me?”

“Well….” Avoiding eye contact completely.

I asked for it really.

We were on our way back home when they started talking about barf. I have a fairly awesome sense of humour but there is only so much barf talk one mom can take. I told them “If you say the word barf one more time, I am going to stop and make you run around the van ten times!” They took this as some sort of personal challenge.

**Whisper, whisper…even more hushed whispers, giggle, giggle**

I stared at them in the rear-view mirror. I knew they were up to no good.

More whispers “blah, blah, blah…barf.” I heard it plainly. It’s like they wanted me to pull over.

I did. Safely…I promise!

Two of them were definitely involved so I said “Get out and do your laps!”

They tried to look shocked. I’ll give them that. More peals of laughter and two 11-year-old boys started running around the van. I eyeballed the third, who looked completely innocent. I am nobody’s fool though.

The third “innocent” friend laughed and counted. As the two started climbing back in the van their friend piped up “That was only eight laps!” The two backed out of the door and finished up an extra two laps. Suckers!

I am certain I heard them whisper to my son “You have such a cool mom!”

A look of horror, or was it admiration, passed across my son’s face as I put the van in Drive.

I hoped their parents thought I was cool too because I could have been in big doo doo.

Is there too much testoterone in here?

Glowing Bowling Alley

Glowing Bowling Alley (Photo credit: atmtx)

Last night, I went along with the Youth Group. We haven’t had one at our church for a few years because of population issues, meaning, there are only so many that go to our church. We are officially starting it up again and last night’s activity was a short road trip to join another youth group for Glow Bowling. The Disco ball and fluorescent colors of the girls clothing took me back a few decades. They didn’t even have electric score keepers so it was old school big time!

We were lucky enough to get the boys for the forty minute trip. Woo hoo!  I love pubescent boys. That may sound weird, but I mean it in the most hilarious sense. They make absolutely no sense at all! None. Even their fart talk goes off on some sort of rabbit trail that leaves adults (except the men) wondering “Huh?” Everyone was getting along and giggling like school girls, so it was all good. I am immune to fart talk and it doesn’t even phase me until they start trying to give real examples. That’s where I draw the line in a small vehicle. A Grand Caravan is not big enough for those kind of competitions. Good news, they are still afraid of me because they are just getting taller than me but not quite far ahead of my height to know whether they could take me down. When I say “Change the topic!” they actually did.

I heard one of them say about one of the girls “I think she likes me. She was looking at me. Pretty sure she has a crush on me.” It could be that the look the pretty gal had given him was akin to “What kind of alien is he?” and “How do I not get in the same vehicle for this trip?” but then again, I could be wrong. I was an adolescent girl once. I do know how their minds work with all the drama, crying and manipulation. I get them. They are weird in their adolescence too but I get it. I am  certain her excited and hyper fluttering about was not flirting with him. She is just an excitable person. I did not burst his bubble as I listened to the other boys speculate. They didn’t seem to know what a girl looks like when they have a crush on someone so they were no use. “She acts kind of flirty around me.” He continued. Before getting into van, a few minutes before,  he had pretended to be invisible. The logic would go that if he was trying to be invisible then how would he know it was him she was flirting with? I’m not completely sure why he was trying to be invisible before getting in the van…??

I can tell you this with absolute certainty. Boys talk more than girls. I have been around boys quite often in my lifetime and almost every one of them can talk the hind end off a deaf donkey. I am pretty sure that when men get married, there is a grand conspiracy among them to make us women think that they can’t talk. Ha! I know it ain’t true, Y’all! Even the “professionals” and all the stats say men talk less than women. I have found the answer…They don’t seem to be able to talk much because they talk it all out before they turn twenty!  It’s true!  Boys talk so much when they are young/pubescent/trying to impress girls that they simply run out of their allotted amount of words when they get married.

All that to say, it was a fun evening. Being in the van with the boys took me back to my earlier days in Youth work and it was a fun flashback. Even the Reverend acted a lot like a pubescent boy last night. Middle-aged boys…maybe they never truly grow out of it. Good thing us girls grow up and don’t have any more fun.