Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Can You Read This?



RoyaltyLady posted this at her blog and I just had to pass it on. As I told her I had no problem reading this as this is the way I type...This is MY brain at work!
Please enjoy and take time to visit Royalty Lady.


fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too.

Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe can.
i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno’t mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! if you can raed tihs forwrad it.
~~~^j^~~~

Have a grand day
and
Thanks be to God!




Uploaded on May 17, 2009
by Linda Cronin (away till Friday)

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Valid Question


Orange Question Mark Button
Originally uploaded by jhhwild
Sue from In Him We Live And Have Our Being asked a valid question in my comments for the previous past. "[H]ow would you differentiate between blogging and journaling? I'd have a hard time doing so; it seems that, at minimum, it would be easy to "blur the lines" between the 2."

And so I pondered this question. I agree there is a fine line. And perhaps my best answer comes this way. The blog, A Bit of the Blarney, is my home for public discussion and friendly banter with time for serious communication.

The journal, Provident God, is my way of separating the frivolity from a serious time of reflection. And because sitting with paper and pencil in hand does not work for me. I have chosen to exchange paper/pencil for keyboard/monitor.

And so you see the key word here is "separate." Blog/Journal is my way of keeping separate two different worlds for me, the public and private. The Journal is private in as much as I choose not to add comments to the post and those who wish to comment on a particular reflection may do so by email. The Blog, my public domain, is where I have not placed any restrictions on my offerings.

It seems it's simply a matter of semantics. I have chosen to call these two worlds by different names in order not to confuse me. In one I can focus on the inner me. In the other I can be frivolous, witty (?), and/or serious. Friends may stop to add to the "blarney" and share it with all.

So, Sue, I say, "Thank you," for asking me the difference. And what I have come to see is that my journal is an extension of my blog.

Have a grand day one and all.

~~~^j^~~~

Thanks be to God!!!!!


Picture by ihhwild

Monday, June 15, 2009

Hoping

Hoping this is just another step in my life as a maturing Christian, I have started another blog, simply for journaling. It's called Provident God, and a place I know I can go to put down my feeling.

Since I have failed in journaling with paper and pencil, perhaps I will be more successful in this media. I HOPE so. I would invite others to do the same. It is not for validation, support or justification. It is simply my thoughts on my personal journey for me. If others find themselves at Provident God and wish to comment they may do so via email.

I would encourage others to reflect in this way, either in this media or with paper and pencil. All of us need to look inside and learn a little more about who we are. It's not always a pretty picture, but you can't fix anything without looking at it.

So now I have two blogs...I hope in this case "expansion" is good. Please stop by Sailing by Starlight and Holy Experience who have wonderful examples to offer.

~~~^j^~~~

Thanks be to God!!!!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Just a Mom

Again the wise have entered my world. I'm as sure as I can be that there are those of you who have already seen this Bit of Wit-n-Wisdom. But for me it is new. Offered to me by a friend I now offer it to you.


JUST A MOM


A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office,
was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

'What I mean is, ' explained the recorder, 'do you have a job or are you just a ..?'

'Of course I have a job,' snapped the woman. 'I'm a Mom.'

'We don't list 'Mum' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it,’ said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, 'Official Interrogator' or 'Town Registrar.'

'What is your occupation?' she probed.

What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out. 'I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations.'

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in m midair and Looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

'Might I ask,' said the clerk with new interest, 'just what you do in your field?'

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, 'I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?)
And I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money.'

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, Testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!
And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than 'just another Mum.' Motherhood! What a glorious career specially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers 'Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations?' and great grandmothers ‘Executive Senior Research Associates?' I think so!!! I also think it makes Aunts' Associate Research Assistants

Anonymous


~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

So by way of sharing some of the research I have been part of the last week I offer you all an opportunity to do the "Hokie Pokie" with Lindsey and all at her Birthday Tea last Saturday. Being the 'Senior Research Associate' I must commend Annie, Lindsey's Research Associate, for having planned a most successful "project.!"




~~~^j^~~~

Thanks be to God!


Friday, June 12, 2009

Thatched Cottage

I know school is out! It doesn't hurt to take a minute to look back to reflect on the past and marvel at how FAR we have come. This came to me from my friend Kay and so I offer it to you.

~~~~~~~


The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn ' t just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500s:

Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. So began the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.

Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies, by then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water.”

Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying It ' s raining cats and dogs.

There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence.

The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. And so began the saying, “dirt poor.” The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway, hence the saying a “thresh hold.”

In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, “Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.”

Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, bring home the bacon. They would cut off a little to share ith guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.
Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.

Bread was divided according to status.. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.

Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock a person out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for d ead a nd prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. And so the custom of holding a wake began.

England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a ....dead ringer..

And that’s the truth. Now, whoever said History was boring!!!

~~~^j^~~~

Thanks be to God!






Thatched Cottage
Originally uploaded by My Life - Orla CahillI