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Showing posts from October, 2010

Chronicles of the Louisiana Trip Part II

Day one of our Louisiana stay dawned with me surfing the internet for sites of interest in New Orleans, then trotting down the two flights of steps to the hotel lobby to print off maps and directions (and surreptitiously listen to the businessman with the lovely English accent). Mom and I decided that, since the weather promised to be fine, we would spend our day walking around the French Quarter.

But first, of course, came the all-important business of locating 'The Stove Man's' shop and dropping off our stove.We drove past it about three times before we actually saw the signs that are hidden behind a veritable wasteland of old appliances. Hugh was nowhere to be seen, but a crony of his was out back. The crony took a very excited Mom on a grand tour of the wilderness of antique stoves in the side yard. I like old things, in moderate, well-kept quantities, but a jumble like this holds little interest for me. I opted to stay in the car and keep a lookout for Hugh while gua…

Chronicles of the Louisiana Trip Part I

I like old things. A lot. Especially when they enable me to take a free (for me) trip. Now you're wondering 'what on earth...?' Well, Mom has an antique gas stove. She really likes it because it is practically indestructible, 'cute', cooks far better than most modern stoves, and will probably still be in working order a thousand years from now. It only had one problem. Occasionally, the flame would go out, but the stove still kept pumping propane. Usually, someone smelled the gas and turned it off before anything happened, but a few times the stove re-lighted itself, and all the accumulated gas, causing a 'boom!' that blew the oven door open. Concern was expressed that, one day, the oven door wouldn't be the only thing blown open by the explosion. The solution? A safety feature that would shut off the gas when the flame went out. Why go to Louisiana? Because 'The Stove Man' (Hugh) is one of the few people in the U.S. who still knows how to serv…

Talents

12 He said therefore, A certain nobleman went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return.
13 And he called his ten servants, and delivered them ten pounds, and said unto them, Occupy till I come.
14 But his citizens hated him, and sent a message after him, saying, We will not have this man to reign over us.
15 And it came to pass, that when he was returned, having received the kingdom, then he commanded these servants to be called unto him, to whom he had given the money, that he might know how much every man had gained by trading.
16 Then came the first, saying, Lord, thy pound hath gained ten pounds.
17 And he said unto him, Well, thou good servant: because thou hast been faithful in a very little, have thou authority over ten cities.
18 And the second came, saying, Lord, thy pound hath gained five pounds.
19 And he said likewise to him, Be thou also over five cities.
20 And another came, saying, Lord, behold, here is thy pound, which I have kept laid up in a napkin:

Making History

I love history. Why? Because it is a story. A story that stretches back through the centuries, and will continue on into endless time. I love the tales of the great men and women who shaped the course of events. But I wonder, how many of them actually stopped to reflect that they were making history? After all, history is something that happened a long time ago. We seldom reflect that we are living in it. What tales will be told of us a century from now? How will we have shaped the future? Each life that is lived changes the course of history. Though we may read of the great and the mighty, in reality it is the everyday people who make the story of the past, the present, and the future. So, how will I change history today? Tomorrow? How will my actions affect not only myself, but the generations to come? A sobering thought. An undertaking that is rather too large for a frail human to attempt. Which is why we follow a Master, who has it all figured out.

Epic Tales in the Making

Why does this always happen to me? I walk innocently into Wal-Mart, and the alarms start going off. I joyfully go to get my free ice cream cone, only to discover that I've left the I.D. that enables me to get said cone behind. But at least I didn't get arrested for burglary at Wally World, and I managed to get my free cone, anyway, in spite of the lamentable lack of I.D. And all these experiences leave me with good stories to tell.