?

Log in

Doggie · goes · to · Confession

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *
Its too bad I like this place so much. If I didn't I'd just erase this account, but I really do like my livejournal, it just that there seems to be no one one here anymore. I remember when all my friends wrote on here semi-regularly. That was enjoyable. Now we are all on Facebook and just put short little posts on people's walls.

I like being able to write down my thoughts at length. To be able to think as I'm writing. It would be nice to even have a link to my livejournal from my Facebook page. Mybe the solitude is appealing about this place. It definitely doesn't seem as crowded. This place gives the perception of being more "artsy". I guess that is because you actually have to do something to keep your journal going.

I like the term journal much more that the word blog. (I can't believe the spell check doesn't recognize the word "blog" yet!)

* * *
I really need to start writing again. Does anyone read this still? Is anybody out there still?

I dreamed last night that I was competing in a triathlon. I was doing well, holding thirtieth place for quite a while and I didn't even feel tired. It made me again want to start doing triathlons.

* * *
I was working in Julian's classroom yesterday when I noticed that he and a little girl were both pulling on a ball, trying to take it away from each other. I called him over to me and told him that it was not ok to try and take things from other people. I told him that if he want to to play with the ball, that he had to ask the girl nicely so that they could share it.
So he turned and went back to the girl. This time he asked politely, "Please, share, ball?"
"No! Mine!" was the response he got.
He came back to me with a pitiful that told me that he didn't understand why his request didn't work. I picked him up and put him on my knee and explained to him, "You did the right thing, I'm proud of you. You were a good boy for asking to share the ball, but sometimes when you ask people nicely, they still won't share with you like you want them to. If that happens, then you just have to go find something else to play with."
Once I said that, he jumped down and went over to a boy who was playing with two trucks and tried to commandeer one of them, "Julian, you don't take things from other people." I reminded him. He looked over at me then, turned back to the boy and said "Please, play, trucks?"
"No! My trucks!" was the response.
Again he returned to me heartbroken and as I picked him up to comfort him, I had to re-affirm that he had done the right thing, that I was still proud of him and that things don't always turn out the way we want them to, in spite of our best efforts. I told him that when that happens, it is just best to leave that toy and go on to play with something else. Again, he jumped down, but this time went off to play by himself for the remainder to the class time.
* * *
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
* * *
HUMILITY, or poverty of spirit, is not a matter of thinking low thoughts about ourselves. It is not a matter of groveling in the dust. It is simply a matter of knowing ourselves as we really are. And when we see ourselves as we really are, we will see that we are poor.
John W. Miller, The Christian Way
* * *
* * *
* * *
How well do you know your next-door neighbors?

We are acquaintances.  I know just about all of their names and were there are from, but could not tell you too much about their personal lives.  Usually we talk about stuff that is going on in our front yards, when our outside times overlap.  Usually the best interactions come around garage sales or something, because we are outside so much then.  

On one side of us is a house that was full of 5-6, early 20 something guys who had either just finished school or were working on their degrees.  I guess what goes around comes around.  We were really that loud and inconsiderate to our neighbors?  On the other side is Jerry, who just moved in.  He came here from Vegas to be closer to his son and grandson, he says.  Pretty friendly.  Lives alone.  Across the street are the Baptist missionaries to Mexico, though I don't know how often they go down there anymore.  The wife, who's name escapes me right now, is very nice and volunteers at the kids elementary school, the husband A---n, will talk to me as well, but might have an anger problem, because I've heard him yelling in their house from all the way over in my yard before.  Next to them are Andrea and his wife, who I've not been introduces to yet.  She is a repeatedly published writer and he started an internet store that sells just about anything.  They said they moved here to retire.  I've not seen them outside since the night they drove up to their new house, 9 months ago.
* * *
Why is it that the funniest videos never seem to win the prize on America's Funniest Home Videos?  Am I just missing something?  This issue is so blatant that I am beginning to think that there is some sort of conspiracy.  Also, have you ever noticed that that seems to be the most formal audience of kind of program that is not an awards show?  What gives?
* * *
Hmmm, so many highlights to this weekend, where to begin.... where to begin....

Was it going to the bank and feeling like a genius because the the lady trying to convince me that I needed to take out a home equity loan for no good reason did not know that Ben Bernanke was the current chairman and falsely tried to convince me that interest rates have not been raised by the Fed in the last 7 years?  The only reason I knew that any of this was misinformation is from listening to Morning Edition for 15 minutes every morning during my commute.  I wonder when the last time she read up on the current events in her field was?

Maybe it was hiking an old miners trail in the mountains by my house for 3 hours in 100 degree weather Saturday morning, only to find that the cave that we were looking for had been imploded and blocked off.  They say its all about the journey and not the destination, right?  It was time well spent.

Maybe the highlight was that yesterday was the best father's day I've ever had.  Which included a weekend of getting to spend alot of time with the kids and watch a movie that I've wanted to see for a while, "Apocalypto".  That was a great choice of movie to watch on father's day and one of my favorite movies I've seen this year.

Wait a minute, I should be working right now.

Bye.
* * *

“I love the statement by G.K. Chesterton who said that we could have a really good argument over whether or not Jesus believed in fairies. But we cannot have any debate over whether or not Jesus believed rich people were in big trouble. There’s just too much evidence that he did.”

-Will Willimon, bishop of the North Alabama Conference of the United Methodist Church
Take from “Preaching Past TiVo” in the Summer 2006 issue of Leadership Journal

* * *
* * *

Previous