Country Living

This is an actual licensed food establishment just down the road from the Scare Bear's house. I see people getting food from there all the time.
I find it interesting that they now offer a drive thru for those of us too lazy to get out and walk the 3 feet to the shack. 

Where we live it is normal to give directions that involve "first dirt road on the left" or "first paved road on the right". For that matter, it is quite normal to hear someone give instructions that do not involve street names at all. "Take the main highway till you get to the Stop-N-Save, make a left, turn right at the school, make a left when you get to the end of the picket fence." I personally know people that do not know their physical address because they have never had to give it out to anyone.

That's why when I found out that I had won a GPS this week from a local TV station, I kind of chuckled to myself. Aside from the occasional excursion out of town (which I usually use the GPS that came pre-installed on my cell phone for - we're not too backwards) there is really not a necessity to own a GPS. Additionally, a GPS cannot be programmed to give me the directions that I am used to receiving. It all seems rather silly (and maybe a bit arrogant) to think that I would need a GPS for daily use. 

The Hubs, however, is infatuated with all that technology has to offer, even if it makes no sense in our day to day lives. He has downloaded every map from the company's website (exclaiming "I have street maps for the Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico!"). Never mind my response that we cannot drive there and therefore will probably never go, he is on a mission to look up directions to relatives houses, to see all of the alternate ways to get anywhere he may think of to go. He has mounted it proudly in his car. 

And, until the next cool gadget comes our way - that is where it will stay. 

Doin' the Funky Dance

My apologies for not posting as often as I should, I haven't been able to string together words to form a sentence as of late, let alone something worthwhile to actually send out into cyber space as though it is a jewel rather than just a pity party in disguise.

Perhaps it's because Mercury is in retrograde, although what that even means I have no idea. I've never been one of the astrological idealists, so I am hesitant to mention it as fact.

Perhaps it's because, as I sit here today, it has been 60 days since I have found myself thrown to the wayside of society like so much compost and yesterday's news left to rot and stink.

Perhaps it is the unbearable heat and humidity of this summer, crushing down on me every time I walk out of my door like an additional gravity, making me long to lie on the floor to escape the reality of it all.

Whatever it is, I have been in a funk.

A funk that has been hanging over my head, causing tears to hold precariously close to the surface, ready to break free at the slightest infraction. It has not helped that the mini-tyrant, with her closed up fists and angry words, has held ready to snap at me at every turn.

I received a respite today when I received a call for an interview, a promise to present myself back unto the world, although a bit battered, humbled and nervous. A promise that I could once again find value in my purpose, drive in my step.

It is sad that I take so much stock in having a career, that being a housewife is not enough for me - I am not sure if that is society talking or myself - but I am glad to have a chance.

Sweatin' Like A Sinner In Church

Once upon a time, a very long, long time ago I was a sophomore in Ms. McGrew's Biology class. When she informed me, halfway through the grading period, that my class average was a D, I was not shocked. I could not stay awake in her class. While she discussed cell division, molecules and plant reproduction, my eyes would get heavy and I would start to nod off. 

I spoke to my grandmother about my troubles. Biology class was directly after lunch. My assigned seat was against the radiator and I, full from lunch, extra toasty from the heat radiating behind me and unstimulated by information that was of no importance to me, would become increasingly tired - no matter how awake I may have been when I entered her classroom. My grandmother suggested that I speak with my instructor about moving my seat to another place in the classroom. It worked. I was no longer stuffy, no longer sleepy and was ably to squeak out a B before the end of the grading period. 

This weekend, the family and I attended a family reunion in Myrtle Beach, SC. I am always curious by family reunions as this is not something that my family has ever practiced.*

On Sunday, we attended church with our various family members from around the nation. The pastor at this church was giving a sermon on the night that Jesus went out to pray prior to being persecuted. He stated that he is not offended when parishioners fall asleep in the pews because Jesus' best friends fell asleep while He was praying that night. I am not sure what was going on with Jesus's friends. It was night, they were in the desert, they walked A LOT (like everywhere), but on behalf of my family members and others that struggle to stay awake in church, I would like to take this opportunity to speak to pastors of predominantly black churches. **

I understand that it is summer and that buildings (especially large buildings) are hard to keep cool during the especially dogged days of heat and humidity. 

I understand that churches have a tight budget and often times are plagued with concerns on how they will pay their bills.

I understand that the more people that you cram into a tight space the hotter that your facility will feel.

I understand that everyone in a church is a sinner and that we should all be sweating over the fates of our souls. 

However, if you could have someone cut on the air on Saturday night so that you are starting from a relatively cool temperature on Sunday morning, you might be able to keep people awake during your 3 and half hour long program (seriously, I honestly do not know why it has to be so long or drawn out, I began losing interest around the 2 hour mark). Additionally, your air conditioning system would not have to battle so hard to keep up with the quickly rising temperature from outside (and inside as people begin to file in).

There is really no reason that I can think of that you should not want your sanctuary to be air conditioned, it seems to me that in keeping your parishioners awake to hear your message you could be saving them from failing at an even bigger subject than high school Biology - life. 

* In fact, it occurred to me this weekend that it has been 19 years since my grandmother died, and I have not seen the majority of my aunts or cousins since then. I could pass my relatives on the street and never know who they are or that they were there.

** This is not my first time visiting a predominantly black church and the ones that I have been to all seem to have the same issues with their air conditioning. At first I thought it was just that one church, that the air must be broken. I know now that I am wrong.