Words

Life

Category: Uncategorized

by Andrea Elizabeth

Tis a beautiful day to be home alone from Church sick, drinking coffee with the dogs basking on the back porch while the trees aggressively compete for sunny air space overhead. 

by Andrea Elizabeth

I neglected to attribute the quote in the last post to St. Ignaty Brianchaninov in The Arena. I’ll try to get the page number later. I think it was about 110.

Our Mutual Friend

by Andrea Elizabeth

This isn’t a post about books, movies, religion, politics, activities or feelings, so what does that leave to talk about? Oh, there was something. Was it about Our Mutual Friend, the miniseries? No, it was teasing something out of some concept or behavior. What was it? Some extreme in a behavior or attitude. Heavenly or earthly minded? No. Practical vs. ideal? No. Spoiling vs. harshness? No. Recklessness vs. overprotection? No. I can’t think of it. So I guess I have nothing to talk about today. Have a nice one.

Well, I can’t leave it like that so I’ll mention that in Our Mutual Friend, I appreciated the equal treatment of people’s susceptibility to the dark side, even Lizzie’s. But was her willingness based on a desire to help, or was it another instance of Dickensonian unrealistic romanticism? I honestly don’t know.

 

home sweet home

by Andrea Elizabeth

Once upon a time there was a cute little 1963 house just a mile from a cute little church. A weary family from way out west thought this would be a lovely place to rest their bones, children, friends, and dogs for varying lengths of time each. So they bought the house knowing that the floor was very uneven, with a pretty deep slope in the back which the foundation repair people had said they could shore up. So after buying, and before shoring, the dad of the house got a second opinion. This man said, “you’ve got a leak, probably a drainage leak causing your foundation to heave up in the middle, not so much down at the sides.” Indeed this opinion fits more with the evidence, including how the doors stick more downstream after water fixtures are used.

So the weary family may still rest their bones on air mattresses and folding chairs while waiting for the plumbing estimate, repair, a year for the house to dry out to see how the heave decreases, foundation repair, new flooring, which had to be replaced anyway, painting and furnishing. It’s ok because of how much the house was discounted, and because they have a year till their daughter goes to college near the cute little church.

Born on the fourth of July.

by Andrea Elizabeth

This year for Valentines Day George gave us seasons tickets to Fort Worth’s Circle Theater to see their five plays. Last night’s The Whipping Man was about two newly emancipated Jewish slaves and their ex-master’s son reuniting in their shattered home under dishonorable circumstances after Lee surrendered. All three actors were debuting at this theater and did a very good job. I’ve never been to a play there so well-received by the audience.

On the way home Pandora selected “Jesus the Mexican Boy”. The title on the screen reminded me of my nursing school experience with Jesus, until I learned he was just Haysuse. Back then I would have been offended at the lyrics and thought the singer deserved The Whipping Man.

Jesus the Mexican boy
born in a truck on the fourth of July
gave me a card with a lady naked on the back
Barefoot at night on the road
Fireworks blooming above in the sky
I never knew I was given the best one from the deck

He never wanted nothing I remember
Maybe a broken bottle if I had two
Hanging behind his holy even temper
Hiding the more unholy things I do

Jesus the Mexican boy
Gave me a ride on the back of his bike
Out to the fair though I welched on a $5 bet
Drunk on Calliope songs
We met a home-wrecking carnival girl
He’s never asked for a favor or the money yet

Jesus the Mexican boy
Born in a truck on the 4th of July
I fell in love with his sister unrepentantly
Fearing he wouldn’t approve
We made a lie that was feeble at best
Boarded a train bound for Vegas and married secretly

I never gave him nothing I remember
Maybe a broken bottle if I had two
Hanging behind his holy even temper
Hiding the more unholy things I do

Jesus the Mexican boy
Wearing a long desert trip on his tie
Lo and behold he was standing under the welcome sign
Naked the Judas in me
Fell by the tracks but he lifted me high
Kissing my head like a brother and never asking why

Maybe he does deserve him, but now I think so do I.

For the love of dogs

by Andrea Elizabeth

Touch screen typing is awkward,so bear with me as I write from my dog friendly motel room in the Texas Hill Country, Highland Lakes area, which begins 3.5 hours, not miles, Facebook friends, from my house.

This week I have been more intensely trying to house train our new shelter dog. I read that shelter dogs are used to going on concrete, so that explains why she prefers our living room (stained concrete) and front entry way (exposed concrete during new cork installation, which is on hold till she’s trained) to going outside. So I got her a crate, and found that the advice to supervise all indoor out of crate play is the best way to catch her when she’s preparing to let loose, and hurry her outdoors. (man, the spell prompts for touchscreens are horrible at reading my mind.) having to devote so much time and money to dogs is making me think about priorities. There is an arguement against making pets your children while neglecting people. (Ishould have left that arguemena, see what it did to my spacing!) But when I see the benefits of training, attention, and healthcare while we are on this trip, I think they are worth it. Corgis love climbing, btw. Could they count as least brethren?

pip, pip, hooray!

by Andrea Elizabeth


George worked in the dark until 9:30 last night getting Merry and Pippin’s new outdoor accommodations ready for the former’s arrival tomorrow. Notice the name. It just seems righter than the rest. We’ll go visit her one last time at the shelter today before her spaying and micro chipping tomorrow. We’ve been counting down for 3pm Wednesday to hurry up and get here. Pippin likes the new digs (hopefully not) if someone’s outside with him, but starts barking if they leave. I think he’ll like it a lot better if there’s another of his species (close enough) actually inside with him. We made an extra room in case she’s not feeling well enough for company the first couple of days. There’s a door between them. Also, she needs extra calories, and he’s been on a strict diet for a couple of years. This way we can feed them separately. If they get along ok, we hope to take the middle wall out and make the kennel bigger. I’m not sure how we’ll feed them after that. Keeping Pippin out of the cat food has been hard enough.

Orthodox elemen…

by Andrea Elizabeth

Orthodox elements in Whitney Houston’s funeral that I’m noticing on cnn.com.

1. Choir in white – traditional funeral garb for the resurrection.

2. Reading of Psalms to lead off.

3. Sermon by T. D. Jakes on the harrowing of hell and the defeat of death. I liked the way he described death’s victory on Thursday and Friday, but not on Saturday. The connection with her final days was evident.

Annual perennial post

by Andrea Elizabeth

The daffodils have burst forth despite the drought last summer.

And the bluebonnets are coming soon!

Smitten

by Andrea Elizabeth


We just picked out sweetness dogified at the shelter. Now we have to wait till Wednesday to pick her up! She will hopefully be a good companion to our Corgi, Pippin, and to the rest of the family as well. Meanwhile we have to pick out a name. “Merry” has been suggested so far. Sounds too human to me. They don’t like my idea of “Precious”. She’s a lot like our dog, Punkin, who sadly got run over a few years ago. The name came from a pumpkin colored and shaped spot on her side. Punkin was perfect for Pippin.

(Pippin left, Punkin right) They were about the same height, Corgi’s are short and long, and would gang around parallel to each other like two well-trained coach horses. It was so cute. Neither Pippin nor I have gotten over her passing.

They think “Sandy” is overdone. I like the orphan connection. “Duchess” from Lady and the Tramp is satisfying to me, but doesn’t sound that great with “Pippin”. Rebecca likes “Belle”. I think I need two syllables. “Little Ann” makes me cry. She is tiny, though, and needs fattening. I just saw that there’s a series of books about “Pippin and Mabel”. Now there’s an idea! Well, Mabel’s the aunt, and there’s one about Pippin and Pudding, the cat. Have to see what the homies think.

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