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Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Happy Birthday Mom

My mom is pretty much amazing. She has always supported me and my brothers (and now inlaws and grandkids) 100% in anything we have wanted to do. She loves us unconditionally and never lets us leave without a hug and an "I love you" to make sure we know. She's feisty and stubborn, and the original example of what Julie coined as our family motto, "Broadbents never quit".

My mom has always loved that she was born on November 11, 11-11. This year was especially exciting because her birthday fell on 11-11-11. If only she would have been turning 11! She always makes sure that our birthday's are special; favorite meal, a birthday song and definitely your favorite desert. So, once a year I make a German chocolate cake, homemade from start to finish, because I know it is her fav. The cake is delicious and this year tasted great as always, but the presentation was a little lacking. So, I'm giving another example of "what not to do" in the kitchen. I am always worried about the cake coming out of the pans so I decided to use parchment paper to line them. In theory this was a great idea, but it didn't exactly work. The edges were lumpy and misshapen and the layers came out looking completely sad. I thought that I could cover it up with a thick layer of frosting, but didn't give the frosting enough time to cool so it was runny and just added to the visual disaster. Luckily my mom thought it was wonderful and we all got a good laugh.

Of course the grandkids had to help with the blowing out of the candles. Hopefully my mom still gets her wish, right?

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Stinky Socks

I have been sick for whatever feels like forever. No worries, it isn't anything serious, just a lot of congestion in my head and chest and a never ending cough. The cough keeps both me and Tim up half the night - not fun. I don't normally get sick for more than a day or two so I have turned into a pretty big whiner. In Tim's family, they all swear by his mother's alcohol wrap as the ultimate cure. It consists of soaking some material in rubbing alcohol (in our case a sock), then wrapping it around your neck and going to bed. Tim isn't sure if it is the alcohol fumes that are supposed to do the trick, or something through osmosis, either way, his entire family are believers. When the kids were here this weekend they even asked if I had tried the alcohol wrap. I finally got desperate and let him make me a wrap. And the results? I did sleep longer than I have for several days. I'm not sure that I'm willing to give all the credit to the sock yet, maybe I'm just wearing out the sickness. But tonight, I'll be the one with the sock wrapped around her neck.
What home remedies do you swear by when you are sick? Secret family recipes? Ancient Chinese secrets?

Sunday, November 6, 2011

I read this book a few weeks ago and have been thinking about it ever since, isn't that the best type of book. It was recommended to me by a co-worker and I have already recommended it to friends, co-workers, and even a business associate. The story drew me in from the first page, it is so compelling and made me want to look outside myself and become a better person. One warning, don't read it in a public place. I had about an hour or two to kill at the airport which can be a great place to read. The book is so emotional in parts that it was all I could do to not make a complete spectacle of myself with my crying.

"Meet Denver, a man raised under plantation-style slavery in Louisiana in the 1960s; a man who escaped, hopping a train to wander, homeless, for eighteen years on the streets of Dallas, Texas. No longer a slave, Denver's life was still hopeless-until God moved. First came a godly woman who prayed, listened, and obeyed. And then came her husband, Ron, an international arts dealer at home in a world of Armani-suited millionaires. And then they all came together.

But slavery takes many forms. Deborah discovers that she has cancer. In the face of possible death, she charges her husband to rescue Denver. Who will be saved, and who will be lost? What is the future for these unlikely three? What is God doing?

Same Kind of Different As Me is the emotional tale of their story: a telling of pain and laughter, doubt and tears, dug out between the bondages of this earth and the free possibility of heaven. No reader or listener will ever forget it."

This is the type of book that I could talk about, but you really just need to read to experience. But...I will share a few of my favorite quotes to get you excited about reading:

***Looking back now, I mourn the mutual wounds inflicted in verbal battles with the "unsaved". In fact, I have chosen to delete that particular term from my vocabulary as I have learned that even with my 4500 European designer bifocals, I cannot see into a person's heart to know his spiritual condition. All I can do is tell the jagged tale of my own spiritual journey and declare that my life has been the better for having followed Christ.

***With the museums, the restaurants and the malls, I was showing Denver a different way to live, a side of life in which people took time to appreciate fine things, where they talked about ideas, where raw yellowtail cost more than cooked catfish. but he remained absolutely convinced that his way of life was no worse than mine, only different, pointing out in the process certain inconsistencies: Why, he wondered, did rich people call it sushi while poor people called it bait? I knew Denver was sincere when he told me that he would not want to trade places for me for even a day.

***There's a lot of folks come down to the mission and volunteer, but most of em was not faithful like Miss Debbie. But that wadn't all. It was the way she treated the homeless that made them accept her as their friend. She never asked em no questions like how come you in in here, where you been, how come you done all them bad things in your life? She just loved em, no strings attached.

I so loved this quote,something I want to learn to do better, just love people how and where they are.

***Even though I'm almost seventy years old, I got a lot to learn too. I used to spend a lotta time worrying that I was different from other people, even from other homeless folks. Then, after I met Miss Debbie and Mr. Ron, I worried that I was so different from them that we wadn't ever gon have no kind a future. Bu I found out everybody's different - the same kind of different as me. We're all just regular folks walking down the road God done set in front of us. The truth about it is, whether we is rich or poor, or somethin in between, this earth ain't no final restin place. so in a way, we is all homeless - just working our way toward home.