It's Saturday and I'm taking a day off from thinking out things and am borrowing an idea to just post "whatever". So today is a whatever day. It's early, I've already been called upon to deliver the child for a car wash and make a big breakfast for dh so what follows is random. Very random.

Jimmy Dean should get some kind of award for making my husband happy via his Maple Sausage.

Its 73 degrees right now. And it's been dry for weeks. While I like the nice morning and evening temperatures my neighbor says we'll only have rain when it gets sticky hot again.

I've believed for years that in heaven we'll all find out that we were wrong about something. Exactly what is yet to be determined. This was driven home to me again this morning by my daughter. I've been put out with Reliant K since learning they performed at a dance club in Charlotte. Some testimony for a Christian band, right? So Beck has me listen to Deathbed off their newest CD (and no, we didn't buy, it was on YouTube). It was an exquisitely painful nine minute experience that left me crying. I cried because they got it right. They captured all the hopelessness of life without Christ and the joy of becoming His and being ushered into his presence. Plus it was the testimony of my dad who's on his deathbead with few variations from this ballad. Ouch! I will listen to it again, probably several times.

The thought comes to mind, "who am I to judge another man's servant?"

I really miss Ozark Cooperative Warehouse. Breadbeckers don't carry things like 5 lb. bags of dried cranberries. I grieve for the harm done to organic and whole food suppliers when Ozark went belly up.

Which reminds me, I need to make more vanilla flavoring. I don't relish the prospect of visiting the ABC store for the main ingredient.

I wish I could understand the cat when she talks to me. A kitty treat usually settles her down though. (ok, I know I'm missing something - let's just leave that alone)

Red bell peppers and mangos have to be near the top of God's creative agricultural wonders. That and Mrs. Evelyn's 5 gallon bucket porch pineapples.

Propolis doesn't spoil or lose any of its physical attributes if you accidently dump it in the grass and leave it a few days.

After many years of patient obedience God is working it out for our friend Mark to finally get the music that's been in his head and heart on paper and in actual tunes. It crossed my mind (while picking up the afore mentioned propolis) that I may be required to wait in such a manner before I'm given liberty to write the book that's been in my head and heart for how many years now(?).

We've enjoyed For Better or For Worse for years. The similarities between the growing Patterson family and our own have been uncanny at times. I'm glad to say though that our teen is light years ahead of the one in the comic strip in relation to maturity and morality. If nothing else the comic serves to remind us of how fortunate both we and our daughter are.