View from the Prairie Box

Two thumbs up to the Walgreens pharmacists at 17th and South. God bless these guys (and gals) who are so consistent and compassionate in providing for my diabetic needs. They are so stinkin’ cool. While the pharmacy techs are running around behind the counter, sometimes without a clue as to how to make things work, the pharmacists decisively serve their customers, sometimes breaking “the rules” to make things work. Kudos to them.

One and a half thumbs to the fun flick Identity. Starring my most beloved actor John Cusak, the film is the scariest thing I’ve seen in some time. I only say this because the freaky scenes had me scrunched down on the couch, Jeremy’s arm clutched by both hands, with my elbow shielding my eyes (kind of). I can’t remember being in that non-breathing, every-muscle-taut position since Sixth Sense. It doesn’t receive two thumbs for one reason… But I won’t ruin the movie for ya by explaining it.

Finally, two thumbs down to The Dish, a restaurant in downtown Lincoln. This place has plenty of potential, but reminds me of a pauper in prince’s clothing. Our food came out greasy and subpar, and overpriced. Yikes. The ole wallet sure took a beating on that one. Note to self: don’t try to eat at Misty’s downtown on a weekend, ever. The wait there was 2 hours, thus redirecting us to The Dish. Won’t make that mistake again… : /

Change. Control. It’s all about the hair, baby.

I’ve noticed that women tend to get their hair cut to represent various life stages. There’s the I-just-got-married-haircut which states that one’s hair ought to change to reflect one’s marital status. Then there’s the I’m-not-a-high-school-student-anymore haircut (sometimes just a style) which is intended to proclaim one’s independence from the schoolgirl within.

Men don’t have a married haircut — at least they don’t have one of their own choosing. I suppose some newlywed men might get the my-wife-didn’t-like-my-previous-hairstyle haircut. (Most men see less changes on their head and more at their waistlines after marriage… But that’s a topic for another day.) College boys do something very unique however. They rebel from the cutting idea and make attempts, instead, for the growth category. Any hair that can be grown will be. And the liberated lads return home to surprised mothers with all varieties of scruff on their faces and styles on their heads.

It’s all about change. And control. So on Wednesday I went with the nothing-else-in-my-life-is-changing-so-at-least-my-hair-will-darn-it! haircut. And, for better or worse, it feels good.

To all who live close by:

There will be a Pampered Chef party at my house this Tuesday (September 9) at 7:00pm. This is Sarah Baker’s second party ever and we’d all like to support her endeavors in this arena. So… No invitation needed, just come at 7:00pm. Great Christmas shopping for Mom and Grandma. And yummy snacks, too. Call to reserve your spot if you want to come.

-RT

This word, and its synonyms, describe my day exactly:

Entry:   disappointment
Function:   noun
Definition:   letdown
Synonyms:   bitter pill, blind alley, blow, blunder, bringdown, bummer, bust, calamity, defeat, disaster, discouragement, downer, downfall, drag, dud, error, failure, false alarm, faux pas, fiasco, fizzle, impasse, inefficacy, lemon, miscalculation, miscarriage, mischance, misfortune, mishap, mistake, no go, obstacle, setback, slip, washout

Let it be known to all that although adoption is a loving option (as those cutesy pro-life posters read) it is not always an easy option. We trust that God will expand our family in His perfect timing. But as for today, I’ve tasted the bitter pill… and it really sucks.

It’s been a good day, a full weekend, and I’m not quite sure I’m ready to begin the week again, but oh well… Saw Spellbound this afternoon and experienced mini-flashbacks to my elementary school days. These spellers were much more knowledgeable than I was; the words they studied are beyond my abilities today, much less thirteen years ago! This is a wonderful documentary — I highly recommend it. See it with someone who likes to laugh, someone like Charity caught the flick with me today. Ah, laughter is good for the soul… as is, I am certain, the joy of winning a spelling bee. I wouldn’t know what winning one feels like — third place in the Roosevelt Elementary Spelling Bee was my greatest achievement (not that I’m complaining or anything, though I did cry because I wanted to win first place).

Many prayers will be cast up for those of you who begin school this week. I am cheering you on from my spot in the bleachers! Ah, the beginning of a new school year, the chance to start fresh. The butterflies of anticipation at the unfamiliar classrooms, the pains of homework assignments given on the first day, the genesis of new friendships. Good stuff. May the Lord bless this new school year for each of you.

It’s high time to shut down this blog entry, though oddly enough I feel like writing more. This may have something to do with the caffeinated beverage I downed at 8:30pm. And the over-two-hour nap I took this afternoon. Ya think? Alright. I’m cutting myself off. Goodnight.

Eight women celebrating friendship and saying goodbye equals a few tears and a lot of laughter. Praise God for good friends.

I’m back! Our online juices are flowing once again, thanks to the technician-with-brains from AllTel. Being without internet connection for six days has been, well, interesting… I’d love to say that I was a more productive person during the last week, but that’d be a lie because (dum da da dum!) we’ve got cable again! So I’ve been lazier than ever, enjoying the television trash that we’ve been without for several months now. My guiltiest pleasure? Dawson’s Creek reruns in the morning. Today Jack came out of the closet and Pacey had his English teacher fired — good stuff.

Life continues to roll right along with school starting soon for many of my friends, work at Zion picking up pace from a slow summer, and Halloween candy and costumes already being sold en masse from store shelves. But I will not yet admit that summer is over. Next weekend I head to a fantabulous weekend on a Minnesotan lake with great friends… After that I will concede to cooler temperatures (okay, not so much here in Nebraska — we tend to enjoy freakishly hot days in September), warm drinks and falling leaves. But today I leave you with a few Summer Favorites:

Beverage: diet cherry coke
Garden Vegetable: grape tomato
Movie in Theater: T3 (I haven’t gotten out much)
Movie on the Green: Wait Until Dark (the only one I saw!)
Book: a tie between Life of Pi and Bel Canto

Just got back from a weekend in St. Louis — so good to return to our home and stomping grounds of three years. Some things inevitably changed… There were buildings where there had previously been pastures and green lawns, new students and workers at the seminary replacing those who had moved on, and freshly paved roads on I-70 (which we greatly appreciated).

Some things did not change. The rolling hills of St. Louis are still beautiful with their trees and old houses, unique neigborhoods thriving with life. Pho Grand in the city still has the best, and cheapest, Vietnamese food, just as World’s Fair Donuts on Shaw and Vandeventer still boasts cheery service and the best glazed donuts anywhere. Covenant Theological Seminary is still a peaceful place, filled with people who are kind and generous. Best of all, the tanned old man, who waved at me from his perch on his John Deere riding mower as I drove from Missouri Baptist College to the seminary, is STILL there… This man, old as the hills several years ago, still perches, still waves, still greet passers-by on Conway Road.

As one who appreciates stability and predictability, I, of course, waved back.

I love it! It’s political races like this that make life interesting. I’m putting my money on Ahnuld.

I’m reading In His Image by Paul Brand and Philip Yancy (Zondervan, 1984). Dr. Brand is a surgeon and it is his thoughts that are recorded in this book, the companion to Fearfully and Wonderfully Made. Last night I read with fascination this description of blood and had to share it here:

“What does my blood do all day?” a five-year-old child asked, peering dubiously at his scraped knee. Whereas the ancients would have responded with elegant references to ethers and humours borne in that “pure clear lovely and amiable juice,” perhaps a technological metaphor would serve best today. Imagine an enormous tube snaking southward from Canada through the Amazon delta, plunging into the oceans only to surface at every inhabited island, shooting out eastward through every jungle, plain, and desert in Africa, forking near Egypt to join all of Europe and Russia as well as the entire Middle East and Asia – a pipelines so global and pervasive that it links every person worldwide. Inside that tube an endless plenitude of treasures floats along on rafts: mangoes, coconuts, asparagus, and produce from every continent; watches, calculators, and cameras; gems and minerals; forty-nine brands of cereals; all styles and sizes of clothing; the contents of entire shopping centers. Four billion people have access: at a moment of need or want, they simply reach into the tube and seize whatever product suits them. Somewhere far down the pipeline a replacement is manufactured and inserted.

Such a pipeline exists in each one of us, servicing not four billion but one hundred trillion cells in the human body. An endless supply of oxygen, amino acids, nitrogen, sodium, potassium, calcium, magnesium, sugars, lipids, cholesterols, and hormones surges past our cells, carried on blood rafts or suspended in the fluid. Each cell has special withdrawal privileges to gather the resources needed to fuel a tiny engine for its complex chemical reactions.

Okay, two more paragraphs on blood that amaze me. The first is amazing due to sheer numbers. The second relates to the truth of living with diabetes. I prick my fingers and test my blood sugar levels about 12 times daily… and every time I do this I’m surprised by how quickly the blood clots. For all the things wrong with my diabetic body, the clotting factors work beautifully! Our bodies are indeed fearfully and wonderfully made. Read on:

What the telescope does to nearby galaxies, the microscope does to a drop of blood: it unveils the staggering reality. A speck of blood the size of this letter “o” contains 5,000,000 red cells, 300,000 platelets and 7,000 white cells. The fluid is an ocean stocked with living matter. Red cells alone, if removed from a single person and laid side by side, would carpet an area of 3,500 square yards.

When a blood vessel is cut, the fluid that sustains life begins to leak away. In response, tiny platelets melt, like snowflakes, spinning out a gossamer web of fibrinogen. Red blood cells collect in this web, like autos crashing into each other when the road is blocked. Soon the tenuous wall of red cells thickens enough to staunch the flow of blood. Platelets have a very small margin of error. Any clot that extends itself beyond the vessel wall and threatens to obstruct the vessel itself will stop the flow of blood through the vessel and perhaps lead to a stroke or coronary thrombosis and possibly death. On the other hand, people whose blood has no ability to clot live short lives: even a tooth extraction may prove fatal. the body cannily gauges when a clot is large enough to stop the loss of blood but not so large as to impede the flow within the vessel itself.