Random Thoughts Between Coughs

I am sick again, with the Bubonic plague or something like it that began a week ago with a sudden sore throat that felt like an acetylene torch had blasted at my tonsils. It has now morphed into the most wretched cough you can imagine, involving great loss of sleep and throwing up of breakfast and other terrible results.

My only comfort is that about every third person in the valley has the same thing, including a few strong men in this household who seldom succumb to colds.

I reek of garlic and other potions. Jenny walked by and said, "Mom, what do I smell?" I said, "I smell like That Lady That Uses Essential Oils." Jenny said, "Oh yeah. You do."

I like the smells of essential oils, really, especially if they work.

I've spent too much time huddled up in the office chair, clicking around online, because it was easier than anything else.

This was interesting, about Tim Tebow.

NFL quarterback is a position best played by young men who were raised by strong fathers. Quarterback is the ultimate leadership position. You have to be taught how to lead. You have to be taught how to prepare.

Yay for all the men out there who stay with their families through all the tough times.

And No, I don't have a mom-crush on Tim Tebow. Well, not really, that much, beyond thinking wistfully that he is very close in age to Amy and Emily, and he just seems so NICE. And if he married either Amy or Emily and the house were on fire he could pick up his wife and tuck her in his elbow like a football and run outside and save the day. And Amy could discuss football with him over breakfast like she did with that one guy on the plane one time who couldn't believe that this little Mennonite girl knew that much about dual-threat quarterbacks and possession receivers or whatever technical stuff it was.

Ok, never mind.

Saturday I dragged myself to a book signing because I had promised the lady I'd be there. Her name is Amanda Bird and she has a little book shop called The Book Nest (clever) in the antique mall on the south end of the big building just south of WinCo and McDonalds in Springfield, where the Teen Challenge thrift store used to be on the north end.

There were about five other authors there. One of them is named Laurie, with a long Iranian last name, and she wrote a book about her daughter with autism. Laurie's mother is none other than Marcy Tigner, the lady with a little-girl voice and a ventriloquist's dummy named Little Marcy, who produced dozens of "Marcy and Little Marcy" children's records back in the day.

If you are Of A Certain Age and grew up Christian but not too Plain, you know exactly who I'm talking about.

Laurie says a lot of Marcy's success was due to her husband, who loved to promote her, and who would breeze into town and call the radio station, the bookstores, and I don't know who all else to set up appearances for Marcy.

I think she thought our little book-signing venue could have used some of her dad's flashy expertise, but really it was well-attended, considering.

And, if you're interested, Laurie has a stack of old/new Marcy records in her garage that she'd like to sell.

Here's a link for Marcy.

And then we have this story. I have my issues with the UN. Among other things, when they go into a country to do all their good deeds they refuse to collaborate with missionaries, even if they've been there for 20 years and are fluent in the language and know the local culture. No no. Missionaries are evil. So they go in and spread their good deeds in the most culturally offensive way and where least needed, because after all, they know best.

Then there was the time Canada had a general election and the UN sent a representative to the reserve we were on to make sure the First Nations people were well educated and informed regarding this election. Well, was there the slightest chance the crusty old Lazarus Kakegamics and Jowin Quequishes of Weagamow were interested in what this greenhorn had to say? No there was not.

So he spent about three days fishing from the airplane dock, as I recall, and had one evening session at the band hall to inform the ignorant populace about the election.

But worst, far far worst, is the UN's policy on adoption. They feel that country of origin takes precedence over everything. And they put a lot of pressure on third-world countries to quit adopting internationally. Which means that way way too many children get to live in third-world orphanages rather than with moms and dads in a different country. But if they survive to adulthood, we can be assured that these orphans are oh-so-grateful to be culturally intact and whole.

More here.

Now before I get any more political I will share something I found in the archives. I had written it in a form letter to family and friends years ago, and our friend Dave Hertzler reprinted it in Today's Native Father. I think Matt was about 11 years old here, and Amy 9.

Quote of the Day:
Matt and Amy have slept outside in sleeping bags quite often. One night there were supposed to be lots of shooting stars, so they wanted me to come out and watch the sky with them. They settled down in their sleeping bags, and after a while I bundled up in winter wraps and joined them. I have long suspected, and now know for sure, that my children win all the prizes for being competitive.
Me: Ahhh, what an awesome universe. . .
Matt: There's one!
Amy: I saw it too!
Matt: Now I have 21. I'm still ahead of you.
Amy: And I have 19.
Me: (sigh) Why can't you just enjoy these stars without being so competitive?
Amy: We're not comPETTING! We're just keeping track. That's what makes it fun. (pause) There's one! Now I'm only one behind you!
Matt: I saw it too, I think.
Amy: Was it a light one over by the pine tree?
Matt: I think so.
Amy: I don't think you saw it because I saw it AFTER you last said, "There's one."
Me: If you two don't stop this now, I'm going back inside.
Matt: Ok, I guess I can stop.
Amy: (No answer. The sleeping bag is pulled over her head)
Me: Amy, WHAT are you doing??
Amy: If I can't count them I might as well go to sleep.
Me: Amy, God made these shooting stars for you to ENJOY, not for you to figure out a way to be better than Matt. There are a lot of things you can do better than Matt, like thinking before you do stuff. And there are lots of things he can do better than you--
Amy: (interrupts) You can't say seeing shooting stars is one of them because I WAS ahead of him!!