Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Sorry, I Don’t Speak Acronym, I Only Write It

With my ever-increasing dependence on technology as a means to communicate, I’ve realized I’ve had to learn a new language – acronym speak. It seems the more I practice this language, the worse I become at my native American tongue. I prefer the old fashioned way of face-to-face conversation and am grateful for video chats, but that’s not always conducive to my surroundings.

For a long time I resisted the abbreviated techno-geek, no punctuation, no grammar way of texting, but I have to admit it saves time and I’m always in a hurry. Actually, I’m not always in a hurry, I just think I am. I’m really just impatient because I get bored easily. I feel the need to be constantly stimulated by cyberspace information. Come on, admit it, I’ll bet you’ve watched tv while surfing the internet on your laptop and texting someone on your cell phone. And I used to think I wasn’t good at multi-tasking.

So, how do I feel about my new bilingualism? FWIW AFAICT SSEWBA. BWDIK DBEYR.


Monday, December 29, 2008

Freak Magnet Theory

There are a lot of freaky people in the world and somehow I have a talent for attracting them. Those of you who are also freak magnets can attest that for whatever reason, when in a crowded place, the freaks will make a beeline towards you. I call this my freak magnetism. It’s not that I’m complaining about it, I just find it unusual that’s all. It’s almost as if there’s some unseen force that’s telling them to go to Diana, ignore everyone else in the room and go directly towards her.

I can’t tell you how may times I’ve been in a check-out line minding my own business, when out of the blue, some strange person approaches me to tell me their whole life story, including some of their most intimate and awkward details. When this first started happening, or I should say, before I became aware of my magnetism, I used to look for hidden cameras, thinking that someone was playing a practical joke on me. I’ve had some rather unusual conversations that made no sense whatsoever which often had me questioning whether I was really having a conversation or still at home dreaming up the conversation in my sleep.

Nowadays, I don’t really think too much about being approached by weirdo's because I’ve accepted the fact that my freak magnetism is a gift. My theory is that freaks are drawn towards people like me because in all honesty, I find them fascinating and I’m sure they don’t feel threatened by me. Think of how boring our world would be if it weren’t for the occasional weirdo that crossed our path to make our day interesting. And who’s to say that the weirdo's aren’t the normal ones and we’re all insane.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Confessions of a Caffeine Addict

Hi, my name is Diana and I’m addicted to caffeine. I’m utterly powerless against the ability to completely refrain from consuming all items that contain caffeine. They say that the first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem. Now I’m not denying my addiction, but in all honesty I have been in denial about my ability to stay off the stuff. I suspect that in this Starbucks generation there are a lot of people that are in the same boat as me but just not willing to admit it or do anything about it.

What is it about caffeine that people don’t take you seriously when you tell them you’re an addict? Is it because it’s considered cool to meet friends for a coffee date? Or is it that it’s readily accessible to anyone for consumption because most beverages, not to mention chocolate, contain caffeine?

When I tell people that I’m addicted to caffeine their first question is how much to you drink each day? When I tell them one just one cup of coffee they usually chuckle and then ask me why I think that’s a problem. Well gee, if it were just one beer, cigarette, candy bar, crack pipe or whatever a day, would you think it was a problem? The fact that I have to have it or I’ll go through massive withdrawal headaches because it affects my blood chemistry should be enough reason. I don’t like things that have control over me and I resent having to pop an Excedrin or make a special trip to the store to get a caffeinated beverage to avoid the withdrawal pain.

I’m not really sure when my problem with caffeine began, but I’d venture to guess that it started sometime during the college years when my recreational use of some type of stimulant was a daily occurrence. I’m sure most alcoholics or drug addicts started out as recreational users because it made them feel good. Coffee makes me feel good. I enjoy the aroma, taste and added energy boost it gives me. Besides it’s socially acceptable to drink coffee and I can quit using whenever I want, right?

Well see, that’s the problem. I can quit, but staying off it is the challenge. I have quit countless times only to re-addict myself time and time again. You’d think the withdrawal pain would be enough incentive to keep me off it forever, but it’s not. It would be much easier if there were some social stigma associated with it that would shame me into staying clean.

Personally, I think Starbucks is secretly creating a generation of addicts as a way controlling our consumer behavior and raking in the profits. We mindlessly start each morning with a trip to the drive thru to give us the jump start we think we need each day. They’ve got us all fooled, ha ha. They’re just like the department stores that fooled us into thinking that Christmas is about Santa and Easter about the Easter Bunny. They’ve deceived us into spending our hard earned money on gift buying and entertaining rather than spending quiet time with our loved ones and focusing on what the holiday is really about.

Do you like the way I didn’t take responsibility for my own addiction and blamed it on Starbucks? I obviously haven’t gotten to the step in my recovery process where you take personal responsibility for your actions. I guess that’s probably why I’m still drinking coffee.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Maybe Tamales Aren’t So Bad After All

Today I had the good fortune to travel to New York City to meet with some dear friends from San Diego, AJ and DB, who were visiting their daughter, JB for the holidays. JB took us to one of her favorite Venezuelan restaurants called Caracas and we enjoyed a variety of good food, none of which I could pronounce or remember the name of. Everything we ate was wonderfully delicious and the wait staff was friendly and attentive. I thoroughly enjoyed this culinary experience along with being in the company of great friends.

One of our appetizers (again, I have no idea what the name of it was) consisted of little balls of dough stuffed with hot cheese. The appetizer arrived at our table in a cornhusk lined bowl containing a mound of these tasty treats. JB gave us detailed instructions on how to spread the dough balls open to cool them off , where to squeeze on the mysterious Venezuelan yellow sauce and when to dab them in a tasty white dipping sauce before popping them into our mouths. The appetizer was very tasty indeed and I was thankful for her instructions which allowed me to experience the full flavor of the scrumptious delight.

After we polished off the dough balls, I innocently asked, “Who’s going to eat the cornhusk?” To which AJ replied, “you don’t eat the cornhusk, that would be like eating the cornhusk off a tamale.” My response was “oh, you’re not supposed to eat the corn husk? That would probably explain why I really, really don’t like tamales.” AJ gave me one of those quizzical looks. You know the one that tries to decipher whether or not you’re telling the truth. I assured her that I do in fact eat the cornhusk and do not care for the taste or texture of it and can never understand why anyone would think tamales taste good. AJ immediately erupted into hysterical laughter while her husband DB gave me a brief explanation on how the cornhusk is used to hold the tamales together during the cooking process.

Now, a lot of people have seen me attempt to eat tamales over the years and you would think at least one of them would have had the courtesy to tell me that the corn husk is just a wrapper and not to eat it. So, maybe tamales aren’t so bad after all? You can be sure that the next time I’m in San Diego, I’ll go out for tamales with AJ and DB just to see what they’re really supposed to taste like.

Thank you AJ, DB and JB for a wonderful afternoon in NYC and for educating me. JB, you’re a gracious host and I’m glad I got to spend some time with you along with your folks. Your appetizer instructions were great, where were you when I attempted to eat my first tamale?

Just out of curiosity, am I the only one who it didn't occur to to eat a tamale in any other form other than 'as is'? Generally, mexican food doesn't have to be unwrapped, unless of course, you eat at Taco Bell in which case everything needs to be unwrapped before eating. BTW, if you decide to eat a tamale with the cornhusk still attached, adding lots of salsa will not improve the taste.

Thursday, December 18, 2008


This morning as I was preparing to leave for an appointment I went outside and noticed that my car had turned into a giant carsicle over night. I was prepared to see a little frost on the windshield, but not my entire car covered in ice. My first reaction was “oh my gosh, you’re not in California anymore.”

The smart thing to do would have been to start the car, turn on the front and rear defrosters and go back inside for about 5 minutes. I’m sure my neighbors would have preferred me to do that as well. But, being a novice at cold weather conditions, I’m still in the trial and error stage of my learning process.

As I was eager to use my new ice scraper, I immediately started noisily chipping away at the ice sculpture that was once my windshield. Now in my defense, I did have a little common sense to start the car and turn on the defrosters as I battled the ice. About 5 minutes into the scraping, I decided that this wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. The stubborn ice did not want to free itself from the windshield and gave me quite a workout. Luckily, right about at the time I was either going to cry or cancel my appointment, the defrosters started to heat the windshield melting the ice enough for me to free its grasp on my car. I rejoiced at the sound of ice chunks crashing to the pavement. FYI, it sounds a lot like breaking glass. I’m sure my neighbors didn’t appreciate the noise and I half expected one to come outside and give me a lesson in winter car sense.

So, what did I learn today? Start the car, go back inside, and then scrape. Remember to call about getting a remote starter installed. Leave 15 minutes early for an appointment rather than 5. Remember to bring along your camera for these special, one-of-a-kind Kodak moments.

Monday, December 15, 2008

What is Art?

What constitutes something as being a piece of art rather than just plain silly, or insane or garbage for that matter? I imagine the goal of an artist is to make some sort of profound statement, invoke some strong emotion, or maybe just make the world a more beautiful place. I have to admit that most of the time I don’t have a clue as to what I’m looking at, let alone its meaning.

For example, on a recent cross-country road trip, I stopped off at an infamous landmark called Cadillac Farm along old route 66 in Amarillo, Texas. Now if you’ve ever driven through Amarillo you’d notice that there aren’t many interesting things to look at along the way so when an opportunity to see something unusual, or anything at all for that matter, pops up, you take it.

Cadillac Farm is what you’d expect…Cadillacs growing in a field. In 1974 a group of artists called Ant Farm took 10 Cadillacs and planted them face down in a cornfield. The caddies range from model years 1949 through 1963. What possessed them to do this, I’ll never know. But remember, there was a lot of parting going on in the 70’s so I’m sure it seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do at the time.

I remember seeing pictures of this place when I was a kid. The cars still had tires and original paint colors, but over the years the elements and vandals have greatly altered their appearance. Still, it’s an interesting place to visit if you’re in the area and I highly recommend the experience, if just for the absurdity of it all. FYI, if you happen to go on a rainy day as I did, remember to bring along an extra pair of shoes.

Getting back to my original question, what makes this art? Personally, I just think it’s silly and entertaining. It was far more interesting to me before I knew artists created it. In my imagination, I thought it was some eccentric old oil tycoon’s way of disposing of his old caddies. Or maybe it was the Texas version of the scarecrow.

Friday, December 12, 2008

First Snowfall

Last Sunday I had the good fortune of witnessing my first snowfall in over 20 years. I’ve been to the mountains in Southern California and skied, but have not actually seen it snow in a very long time. Sunday's snowfall wasn't big by any means, but nonetheless, it was still spectacular.

I’ve been eagerly anticipating the first snowfall since my move to New England a couple of months ago, much to the dismay of my fellow New Englanders who’d rather prolong the first snow by several weeks. I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d feel the first time I saw snow, but when I woke in the morning, looked out the bedroom window and saw snow on the ground, I was extremely excited at the prospect of finding out.

As luck would have it, it started to snow shortly after I arrived home from church. I made myself a cup of hot cocoa, sat comfortably on the couch and stared out the window in total silence at the spectacle before me. I was completely mesmerized and awestruck by the beauty of it all. There’s something so peaceful about watching it snow.

Many things were going through my mind that day, but one theme in particular kept ruminating in my spirit. Each snowflake was unique. Not only were their sizes and shapes different from each other, but their journey was unique as well. Some flakes fluttered and traveled quite a distance in the wind, while others took a more direct route to the ground. Some flakes got caught up in trees or rooftops and never even made it to the ground.

It got me to thinking about how unique our own lives are and how each one of us has our own journey in life to follow. Much like the snowflakes, we can get caught up in things that prevent us from reaching our destiny and who's to say those obstacles aren't part of our destiny. Sure there are those who to take the fast direct route to their destination, but I suspect most of us flutter around a bit. We may even find ourselves caught up in the wind and heading in a direction we didn’t expect or can’t control.

Similarly, we don’t know what tomorrow’s weather be and like the snow we can’t assume that we’ll be here tomorrow. The good news is that we have Jesus who gives us eternity in heaven, but our time on earth here is short. So learn to make the best of your journey and enjoy it, for it truly is magnificent.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Workout Woes

Whoever said ‘no pain, no gain’ was obviously a masochist. I recently started attending a local fitness center and have been utilizing a personal trainer. My usual trainer moved on to bigger and better things, forcing me to go on a blind date yesterday morning.

I arrived at our scheduled appointment a few minutes early, introduced myself, and went through the usual small talk about my goals and what I was expecting from this relationship. I expressed to him that I was not experienced in these matters and was looking to take it slow at first. He nodded in agreement and proceeded to get right down to business.

About five minutes into our date I was ready to call it quits. Although he was a pleasant young man and I enjoyed our conversation, I was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable physically and wasn’t sure I’d be able to last the entire length of our agreed upon time together. During our small talk I discovered that he was an ex-marine. Immediately, I thought to myself, “I should have asked more questions about his background before I agreed to this meeting.” He is the third ex-marine I have spent similar such time with. The last of which made me do so many sit ups that for days afterwards, it literally hurt me to breathe.

After our scheduled session was over, I thanked him and politely let him know that I would not be seeing him anymore. I left the fitness center not being able to feel my legs, but grateful that I was not in any pain. The rest of the afternoon, I found myself grasping the railing each time I walked up or down stairs for fear of my legs collapsing out from beneath me. Last night I was unable to attend my church’s mid-week meeting because in my weakened state I didn’t think I would be able to hold the gas pedal down long enough to drive over there, let alone stand for praise and worship. Fortunately, this morning I was stiff and not in too much pain, but I’m afraid the pain is just starting to settle in.

So what have I learned from my blind dating experience? Always ask background questions before you agree to a date. Marines have a different attitude about what constitutes a good date. Be aware that marines will expect more from you. Pray for our marines because if their preparation is only half as challenging as how they trained me, I can only imagine what wartime is like. And pray for me...that I will be able to walk tomorrow.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

15 Things I’ve Had to Re-Learn While Living in New England – Part 2

1. Water is more plentiful here. You don’t have to travel far to find bodies of water other than the ocean. There are plenty of streams, rivers, lakes, and ponds to swim, fish, kayak and ice skate in. Water also tastes good straight from the tap.

2. Canadian geese honk loudly. They can be seen and heard flying about New England. When I was a kid they used to migrate south for the winter, but it looks like more and more geese are sticking around permanently.

3. There are seagulls 50 miles from shore. At least there is an ocean somewhat nearby. Maybe I should start a proposition to rename them scavenger gulls or something along those lines. Californians would pass it for sure…oh wait, no, I’ll need to make it a bond issue for it to pass.

4. Freeway traffic is slower. The average speed is around 70 mph rather than 80.

5. Police travel in unmarked vehicles. I’ve seen more people pulled over for speeding by police in plain SUVs than police cars. Probably the most likely reason for #4.

6. Parking is not a problem. Shop anywhere anytime and you will be able to find a parking spot.

7. Left freeway exit ramps mess up the fast lane. Actually, there really isn’t a fast lane (see #4).

8. Roads are hazardous to tires. The weather conditions create a lot of potholes and uneven driving surfaces. I completely trashed a brand new tire within the first month of being here. FYI, Costco is a great place to buy tires. They replaced my tire for a $1 disposal fee.

9. GPS navigation is mandatory, not optional. If not for my handy GPS devise, I’d probably be living in Rhode Island or New York because I wouldn't be able to find my way home.

10. There’s a lot more road kill living in the country. I have to admit, my first night here I contributed to the statistic by hitting a kamikaze bunny. What is it with rabbits and my car?

11. NFL games start 3 hours later. The early game starts at 1pm and Sunday/Monday night football doesn’t start until 8:30 pm. I’m resolved to the fact that I’ll most likely fall asleep before the game ends and have find out who won the game by checking the scores the next day on the internet.

12. New England fans are loyal. It doesn’t matter how good or bad the Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics or Bruins are playing, the fans will cheer for them just the same. Unfortunately, there are a few Yankee and Giants fans here too, but I won’t talk about them.

13. There aren’t as many blondes. Or at least there aren’t as many fake blondes here. Now that I think about it, I haven’t noticed as many elective plastic surgery makeovers either.

14. There aren’t as many BMW drivers in New England.

15. It’s strange to see whole forests of trees with no leaves. Come to think of it, it’s strange to see so many trees.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

What's in a Name?

The other day I was driving down Main Street and it occurred to me that it was indeed, the main street. It got me to thinking that in the old days people named things more practically. Being new to the area and not all that familiar with the town, I began paying attention to street signs. There is in fact a church on Church Street and School Street appears to have a building that looks like an old one-room schoolhouse. I took a side trip down Great Swamp Road in search of the great swamp and was a little disappointed that I was not able to locate it. However, I’m sure there is a great swamp in the vicinity. It’s probably located in the woods behind some houses or just beyond where the road ends. Otherwise why would they have named the road so?

The street signs led me to thinking about people’s names. Have you ever wondered how your parents arrived at naming you? Were you named after someone specific? Did your parents just give you a name because they liked the sound of it? Maybe they made up a name. Or maybe your name has some significant meaning.

In biblical times people’s names were significant and often gave one their identity. Take Moses for example, his name means ‘arrived by water.’ He was found by Pharaoh’s daughter floating down the Nile River, and the woman named him so. She didn’t name him ‘found near tree’ or 'cave man Bob’. Likewise Samuel means ‘asked of God’ or ‘God listens’. Hannah prayed that God would give her a son and He did. I could go on and on listing names and their meanings, but I won’t bore you.

I once asked my dad why I was given my birth name and not something else. He told me that I was named after the Greek goddess, Diana. Diana is the goddess of the hunt. Lately, I’ve been hunting for a job by day and hunting mice by night. So, kudos to mom and dad for having the foresight to name me appropriately.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Victory is Declared in Weeklong Mouse War

Several breaches in the security perimeter were discovered on Saturday morning. A trip was made to the local Katz Ace Hardware Store to consult with professionals about the possible ways to secure the breach. The professionals recommended some great stuff to block the holes where wires were coming into the building and allowing the enemy access. After a brief demonstration by the professional on how to use the great stuff, I confidently went home and secured the perimeter. I am happy to say there have been no new casualties or indication of the enemy’s presence for the last 2 days. Is the declaration of victory too premature? Only time will tell.

Here’s a brief summary of the war:

7 days

Mice = 5
Humans = 0

Captured & Released:
Mice = 2
Humans = 0

Reusable Trap: 4.99
Clip Trap: 3.97
Decon Trap: 4.99
Great Stuff: 7.99

Total: $21.97

*Costs are exclusive of sales tax

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Scarves are not just Accessories

Scarves have not been a part of my primary winter wardrobe since before I moved out west in the early 1980’s. Now, I’m proud to say that after 2 months of cool New England temperatures, my body is slowly acclimating to the weather, however my mind still associates sunshine with warm temperatures. Hence, I don’t think to wear certain items of clothing because my brain does not identify a need for it yet.

Two days ago it was a balmy 45 degrees outside and the sun was shining. For the first time in several days, I did not wear a turtleneck. The lack of neck protection was fine until the sun went down and the temperatures dropped. It just so happened as I was heading out for the evening I noticed a cold chill on my neck. My first reaction was to head inside and put on a turtleneck, but then it occurred to me that I could actually wear a scarf. After all, isn’t that the real purpose of owning a scarf aside from making a fashion statement?

I quickly ran inside and selected a cute scarf that complimented the outfit I was wearing that evening. I proceeded to wrap the scarf around my neck two times and then tie it in a couple of knots. Something didn’t quite feel right about my scarf tying technique, but hey, I looked cute and besides, I was in a hurry.

It wasn’t until I arrived at my destination and attempted to remove the scarf that my problems began. I wasn’t able to untie the knots let alone unwrap my neck. It seemed the harder I tried, the more circulation I was cutting off to my head. I must have looked quite pathetic because a sweet elderly lady named Hannah came to my rescue. She happened to be celebrating her 91st birthday that day and obviously had many more years of experience in these matters. She was only too happy to untangle me from my self-inflicted chokehold. She then graciously proceeded to give me a detailed demonstration on how to properly tie a scarf the “trendy way” and made sure that I was able to replicate her example.

Here are two techniques I learned this week on how to tie a scarf. The first example is the trendy way as demonstrated to me by Hannah and later confirmed by 3 independent sources, as in fact, being the cool way to tie a scarf. The second way is the old school way as shown to me by my friend, Tina. Tina recommends the old school technique for really cold days.

Technique 1 – Trendy

1. Fold scarf in half.

2. Drape folded scarf around neck.

3. Take loose ends and pull through loop on opposite end of scarf.

Technique 2 – Old School

1. Wrap scarf once completely around neck (only once) and leave ends hanging in front.

2. Take both ends and tie a loose knot. You now should have an inner layer and outer layer of scarf wrapped around your neck.

3. If it’s really cold outside, you can pull up the inside portion as a face warmer.

Thank you Tina for modeling the various techniques for me.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

10 Things God Spoke to Me Through My Pet Bunny, Sammy

1. God’s love is unconditional – no matter how I act, look or feel God loves me just the same. Nothing I do can take away or lessen His love for me. Even if Sammy would misbehave or bite me, I’d still love him just the same. I might not love some of the things he would do, but I always continued to love him. God may be displeased with some of the things I do, but he’s never displeased with me.

2. God disciplines me to keep me from harm - when God tells me not to do something I’ve learned that it’s usually for my own good. I might participate in an activity, eat something, or say something that seems perfectly harmless, but will eventually hurt me. Sammy used to like to chew on electrical cords. It was a perfectly natural instinct for him to do it and he didn’t know it would kill him. I’d have to put him in his cage until he’d forget about the electrical cords. The cage wasn’t to punish him, but protect him. So when God tells me no, it’s usually for my protection, because He sees the harm in my action when I don’t.

3. God is faithful - God is responsible for keeping me safe and providing for me. Just like it was my responsibility to provide food, shelter, love and look after Sammy’s health, God is faithful to do the same for me. He doesn’t forget about me or leave me without taking care of my needs.

4. God calms my fears – God is the one who can make me feel safe. Occasionally one of my roommates would let a dog in the house and it would terrify Sammy. Sammy would run to me for protection. Likewise, I need to run to God when I’m feeling afraid, whether the fear is physical, relational, financial or emotional.

5. God wants to spend time with me – it blows my mind to think that the Creator of the Universe actually desires to spend time with me more than I do with Him. I often wondered what Sammy was doing all day while I was at work. I looked forward to coming home and seeing him. The same way I thought about Sammy, God thinks about me. Only God thinks about me all the time. In fact his thoughts towards me are too numerous to count, like the grains of sand in the sea.

6. God is gentle – I loved sit quietly on the floor with Sammy in my lap and quietly stroke his fur. God likes to spend quiet time with me. He loves it when I sit in His presence and receive His gentle strokes. He never yells at me or tells me bad things about myself. In fact, He does the exact opposite. He encourages me, and believes in me more than I believe in myself.

7. God is patient - I’d often call Sammy and he would ignore me. When he was ready he’d eventually come to me. Likewise, God calls me to Him and sometimes I ignore Him. Thankfully God is patient and waits for me to come to Him. He never forces me to do anything. He gives me the freedom to choose.

8. God has a great sense of humor – when I’d leave town for the weekend and leave Sammy in the care of friends, Sammy would get upset. He always let me know that he was upset by pooping right in front of his cage rather than in his cage. Thankfully, once I was home, he’d use his cage properly. It was hilarious to me that he would do this every time I wasn’t home. There were several times I was complaining to God about something that He asked me to do that I didn’t want to do. Most of the time I’d do it, but with a bad attitude. I’d sulk and complain. God reminded me that my attitude was a lot like Sammy’s pooping when I didn’t get my way. God has a great way of showing us our true selves in a humorous way.

9. God does not condemn me – Sammy’s natural instinct was to run away when I caught him doing something that he wasn’t supposed to do (like chewing the walls). My natural instinct is to run away from God when I know I’ve done something wrong for fear of punishment. Thankfully, God doesn’t expect me to be perfect; in fact He knows I’ll mess up. Since He’s all knowing, He already knows all the mistakes I’ll ever make in my lifetime and He still does not condemn me because the blood of Jesus justifies me. I never held it against Sammy when he’d do something bad. I’d deal with his action and then forget about it as if it never happened. In the same way, God forgets about my mistakes when I ask for His forgiveness. He doesn’t bring up all the stuff I’ve ever done wrong and hold it over me. His mercies are fresh and new every day.

10. God is gracious – I’d love to give Sammy little treats, whether it was a little chew toy or a little piece of fruit. Sammy didn’t do anything to deserve or earn those treats. I just wanted to give them to him because I loved him. In the same way, God longs to bless me. Not because I deserve the blessings, but because of how wonderful God is. He delights in giving me good things.

Friday, December 5, 2008

New Developments on the Home Front

I hoped to have no significant news to report aside from a declaration of victory, but after completing my morning inspection routine, I noticed one of the WMDs had come up missing. I immediately conducted a thorough search of the premises. The would-be-thief traveled quite a distance before succumbing to the ill effects of the powerful weapon. In its escape attempt it almost rendered the weapon inoperable, but also may have led me to a possible location of the enemy’s base camp. It still however hasn’t been determined if new recruits are arriving on the battle ground daily or if the rebels are from the original squadron. I may have underestimated the strength and determination of my opponent.

After taking a mental inventory of the casualties to date I am optimistic that the enemy has not recruited youngsters in this mice war. The plan now is to procure additional WMDs and strategically place them near the suspected campsite.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Is Victory Near?

Having completely cut off the enemy’s food supply and taken out 3 of its leaders, it appears as though the enemy is starting to weaken. Morale seems low. I’m not hearing any of their all night partying anymore. Likewise, they’re not leaving any indication of having a presence in the kitchen. However, they continue to hold territory in the basement and that is where I’ll concentrate my next attack.

I regret that I will be suspending my reports on the war scene until a more significant event occurs or total victory is declared.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Thoughts About My First Kill(s)

(WARNING: This blog contains graphic material that may not be suitable for the faint of heart)

I often wonder what goes through a soldier’s mind after he experiences his first kill. Does he feel remorse? Does it get any easier the more he does it?

I thought about what was going through my mind this morning as I anticipated seeing my first casualties. I have to admit that my very first thought was “Lord, I need a husband to take care of this for me.” Sorry to all you women’s rights activists, but this activity falls in the ‘man’s job’ category. The gross-out factor is not befitting for a lady.

I nervously walked down to the basement to catch a glimpse of my WMDs. A glimpse was all I needed to get an idea of what I was up against. After a quick gander at the WMDs I went back upstairs to mentally prepare myself for the casualty removal task at hand. While preparing myself, I meditated on the fact that I just took the life of a living creature, albeit a rodent, but still, I was the one who contributed to its demise. Honestly, I thought I’d feel bad about it, but instead I felt angry and triumphant. I was angry at the little beasts for pushing me to the point of violence, yet I rejoiced at their calamity. In my anger, I thought for a brief second about hanging the dead mice by their tails as a deterrent to any other mice that might be in the area. You know, like they did in the bible to discourage their opponents. I quickly dismissed the idea because I don’t like smelly, rotten things, and more importantly, I’d have to actually touch the corpse to do it. Now, if I had a husband…he could do it.

So, how do I really feel? ”Die, I’m going to kill every last one of you filthy, little monsters. And, I will not relent until you’re completely gone, ha ha! (evil laugh)" Gosh, did I say that out loud? Isn’t it funny how your enemies can bring the worst out in you? Your friends can too, but I’ll save that discussion for another blog.

In the meantime, I’ve managed to place a call in for reinforcements. I’ll continue to hold down the fort until they arrive. I am armed with reusable WMDs and plenty of Jif. I know I can do it!

I hope the left-wing animal rights activists don’t get a hold of what’s going on in this household because I don’t want any more trouble. Besides, I have God’s permission to rule over “…every creepy thing that creeps on the earth.” (Gen 1:26 ESV)

Okay, so maybe I was a little overzealous about my opponent's most unfortunate outcome. A special thanks goes out to Sully, who so brilliantly told me to place the traps along the walls. FYI, that’s how mice like to travel, it makes them feel secure.

There will be Casualties in Time of War

I have a friend named Sully who read about my predicament and called to give me expert advise as she has vast experience in dealing with mice behavior from working in the biomedical research industry. I was told to stop feeding my enemy, as I will only end up recruiting more for the other side. She also informed me that it has been discovered that mice have found their way back ‘home’ after being as far away as 18 km. Now, I’m not about to take my captives for a ride to the next town over in the middle of a cold winter evening, so I’ve decided to change my tactics.

Sometimes in warfare it becomes necessary to use Weapons of Mass Destruction. Generally, I’m opposed to the use of such force but there are certain situations that make the use WMDs appropriate. After all, wasn’t it God who told Moses and Joshua to utterly destroy their enemies? It was only when they failed to annihilate them that they faced problems down the road. I made the mistake of having a merciful heart for my opponent. I’m convinced that mouse #1 recruited more mice in the woods and directed them to my home. Well, I've put on my war paint and am prepared to use any means necessary to defend my territory.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Mice Chronicles - Part 4

Not having heard back from my landlord, I had to fend for myself for yet another day. No big deal, this has become ridiculously easy, or so I thought. Much to my dismay, I looked into the trap this morning and to my surprise it contained no peanut butter and no mouse. How the heck did that happen, I wondered. I carefully inspected the trap and noticed that the little monster had eaten through the piece of plastic that held the trap door open, making it able to climb over the trap door and gain its freedom.

Judging by the size of the droppings and the hole, it can only mean one thing – babies!

Monday, December 1, 2008

Mice Wars - Day 3

I'm afraid my uninvited houseguest brought along additional poachers. The question is, how many? I can confidently say 2 less. As Yosemite Sam so eloquently put it - rackin' frackin' varmits! Those pesty little mice are difficult to find let alone get rid of. Although they have quite an affinity for peanut butter, I'm afraid they may multiply faster than Jif's ability to attract them. It's time to call in the professional mice warriors before I lose my appetite for peanut butter sandwiches altogether. Not to worry, I am not discouraged by this minor setback. I know I'll be victorious in this mouse war in the end. After all how could their little pea brains possibly out wit me?