Newly Minted . . .

The Lord has finally spoken.

The fullness of time and lessons learned has come to fruition.

A new phase of the journey is set to begin.

For those who walked with us through the dark night of growing pains, will you now join us in a resounding SHOUT OUT to the King of Kings, then, take a knee, while we honor Him: the One who opens and shuts doors, and answers the prayers of young girls desirous of fulfilling their dreams.

Ladies and Gents, Choosers Everywhere, may I present to you the newest thespian of the family, secured by an agency as of last night:

When It Coffees, It Pours . . .

Stumbling out of bed, I began my morning routine, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

Dell expectantly followed me and watched, as I meandered to the kitchen, emptied the grounds basket, filled the basket with fresh coffee and filter, filled the water reservoir, returned down the hall to slip on a pair of jogging pants, hunted for the brown flip flops, then the leash . . .

His anticipation heightened, but mingled with self-control.

At the gate, I stooped over to halti him, swaying in a lack of balance sort of way, still caused by the sleepiness that fogged me first thing in the morning.

Once outside, the dew on the grass, the scent of the beginning stages of fall evident about me, I perked up a bit. My heart began to awake, my thoughts following.

"What a beautiful morning! Good Morning, Lord!" As I directed my thoughts upward, and paused, listening for that still small voice, Dell indicated he'd had enough of taking in the tracks of canine passers-by. We headed back to the house.

I could hear the brew in its' final stages. Mmmmmmm ~ but a cup of coffee was going to taste good this morning!

Coffee, my Bible, a snug little corner on the couch . . .near perfection, in my mind's eye.

I slipped off my flops, un-halti-ed the dog, and turned the corner to the awaiting coffee pot, which sat pristine and glistening on the counter.

Empty.

While the machine itself chirpily produced a full pot of java ~ down the side of the counter, onto the floor.

Drat!

When Your World Crashes . . .

I had just been explaining to a friend the other day that, while I am madly in love with my fresh cup of coffee in the morning, I'm not necessarily addicted ~ I could/can/have gone for weeks without the delicious brew without any severe consequences. Perhaps a slight headache on day two or so, but nothing major.

I'm of the opinion the same applies to my computer. Since taking ownership of a computer in 1994, I've loved having access to all things cyber; self-educating in the realm of all things tecckie; and storing electronically. I use my computer daily in most cases, yet, when necessary, and often by the mere nature of my life, I might find myself away from my system for extended periods of time. {shrugging my shoulders} Eh. Okay.

Enter the dreaded Blue Screen of Death that intersected my smoothly running world 36 hours ago.

I am bereft.

Through no fault of my own (and I shan't blame my inexperienced daughter, on whose watch the BSOD entered my system) I returned home to my desktop in shambles, and I've been scrambling to fix it ever since.

Fortunately, I've been able to retrieve VIP data pertinent to my heart strings. Such as a gazillion photos of my son and grandson's actual birth and the days following. Bible study notes of my own hand, my own perusal. A host of other documents valuable to me.

Yet, the repairs have been painstakingly slow, and as of this moment in time, there is not an immediate repair on the horizon.

And by immediate, I mean in the next hour.

Perhaps by days end I'll be on my way to discovering my happie little world again. Time will tell, and my GilGuy (otherwise lovingly noted as McGilver) will be forthcoming with data information that will magically repair damage done.

In the meantime, I am compromisingly attached to my sons' system, in a comedy of errors sort of way that would have any haphazard passerby in stiches, should they be able to peer in the window and see me. Wires are everywhere, and my eyes? Red rimmed from the stress of it all.

One thing is for certain. I'm not spending too much time surfing right now. :D

To debugging and beyond ~

~Angi

Train 'Em Up Early . . .

It set my heart a flutterin', the opportunity I had to introduce all things equine to my youngest child whilst we journeyed home recently. My passion for horses has been kept by the wayside for so many years, I've denied self time and time again. The result being that all of my olders have lacked for any equestrian training.



There is just something about the sweet smell of a horse, the softness of his nostrils, the heat of his breath, the doe-ness of his eyes, the strength of his muscles, the containment of his power underneath the reign.


Yes, I have desired that all of my children know the thrill.

Well, allright, so Keller doesn't look so thrilled. But it wasn't *really* about the horse . . .it was about his first-time-ever stuffy nose. Honest. And the Mississippi humid heat. It's true!

When I discovered Bethany's latent love, I was shocked to say the least. Yet after having met Ezekiel [Zeke for short], her handsome steed, I fully approve of her intuitive horsemanship and ability to take up the task of ownership.

Watching her in action, knowing that her movements were in a large part a natural, intuitive part of her being, my heart sang. Of course, Zeke cried. He didn't *really* want to take a bath! Like a toddler too young to understand the benefit, he balked. So, we brought in reinforcement:

And, just as a toddler will do, curiosity got the best of him.

"Say, Mister! Whatcha got there??"

Well, I suppose it's only fair. I want my son to know about horses. I guess the horse can be educated on the use of a cell phone.

"Hey Wilbur!"

:D

Reprimanded.

I had high hopes surrounding some major Bible study time yesterday. I had awoken with purpose and resolve toward accomplishing at least one of the three studies I've currently got going, and, I was desirous to taking in a new thought via a podcast I've had my eye on.

The day started out fine. All things in my world were tidy and neat. Roast in the crockpot, cookies made from scratch the previous day were neatly stacked and wrapped, just waiting to be imbibbed; the windows were open, allowing a cool and gentle breeze to waft in . . .

Restful. That was the atmosphere of my little home in Cali.

I put both feet in first, spending the better part of an hour going over various Scriptures, ingesting them, mulling them over in my mind, considering.

Then, Keller demanded me. The phone rang. Kids began arriving at our doorstep. And Gustav was threatening.

Before I knew it, I was wisked away on a tidal wave named 'cares of this life' and I stood, mezmerized by the reports from NOAA and Intellicast and the Gulf Coast local websites.

Yes, it was in part worthy of my attention. Yet too much attention, according to my Father, as I finally lay myhead on the pillow late last night . . .er, this morning. Still a tad wound, I opened a book I've been reading to a random page. The words were clear and crisp, and the Lord was speaking directly to me:

But it shall come to pass, if thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of Jehovah thy God, to observe to do all his commandments and his statutes which I command thee this day, that all these curses shall come upon thee, and overtake thee. Deut 28:15

I was immediately convicted.

I had allowed the day to pass, to wash over me, without maintaining my resolve. I was quickly reminded of how easy it is to get one's eyes off of the prize of the high calling in Christ Jesus onto worldly things.

So, I repented. Right then and there.

I fell asleep, knowing that tomorrow I would be much wiser in my use of time spent with Him. That Bible study that's been on my plate for weeks now? I may not "finish" it . . .but I sure the heck am gonna take a big bite today.

Thanks to the reprimand of the Father.

My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him: For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons. Furthermore we have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby. Hebrews 12: 5-11