I’m Not Getting Old …

… I’m sure I’m not.  It’s just that my cell phone has a way of moving, unbidden, to places I would never dream of putting it. 

I was getting ready to leave the house and wanted to be sure I had my cell phone along. So I went to pick it up from the exact spot where I had put it only minutes before. Magically it had moved.

I have a lot of patience – well, at least I’m somewhat patient.  Okay, I’m not patient at all and when my phone is no longer where I remember leaving it, I talk to it and say things like “Okay, where did you go this time?” 

For some reason it’s difficult for me to make the decision to go to my home phone and ring my cell. So I attempted to reconstruct previous movements with regard to my cell phone. I remembered unplugging it.  At least it’s good that I remembered that much.  But beyond unplugging and thinking I laid it on the desk, nothing else was retrieved from memory.

Finally, I gave up and used my land line to dial my cell.

So why was my shoe ringing?

Throughout my childhood I laughed at the idea of goblins. Now I’m not so sure!

 At any rate, I’m trying to catch my goblin in the act of hiding my cell phone - and I just might catch him hiding my glasses.

Goblin from ClipartHeaven.com

What’s in a Name?

Over the weekend I was thinking maybe I should start a business that creates original names for new churches. What brought this to mind you might ask – or not. But even though the question may not have entered your mind, here’s the answer. I saw a reference to a new church “plant” last week that was called, “Overflow Church.” This clued me in to the fact that the apparent important consideration in naming a church is that it be different.  Maybe this is good since finding a church named “Harvest,” “Cornerstone,” or “New Life” would involve driving only a few miles from one’s home.

My first choice for the name of a new church plant would be “Church of We Dare You to Discover What We Believe.” But that’s a little long to get on a sign, so I looked to past experience for an idea.

While stressing over what to name my novel, I discovered a random title generator on the internet. There should be a warning on the site that tells people it is addictive. I know from experience that it can become a mesmerizing pastime. This random generator gave me names such as “Secret of Waves” and “The Valley of the Window.” But with all of the time I spent asking for titles, and as different as the titles were, I kept the name for my novel that I dreamed up on my own.

I’m quite sure I can create a better random name generator than did the book title people. I will use my version for naming churches.  This will simply involve entering words from my concordance as well as current catch phrases and words. With my very first effort (random pointing with eyes closed) I came up with “Superior Fortress Church” and “Double-Edged Fellowship.” I might suggest the former for a suburban wanna-be mega church that dares non-suburban types to attempt to become a part of the club. The latter would probably be fitting for the congregation that has yet to craft a statement of beliefs.

Okay, back to the drawing board!  My after-the-fact internet search found a “Mighty Fortress Church” and a "Double-Edged Sword Church.” It really is hard to come up with an original name for a new church! Maybe we should just follow the example of banks and use such names as First Third Baptist or Twelfth Fourth First Methodist. Just a suggestion!

...that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” (William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)

The Mood

I often cause problems for myself when I become project oriented. This happens when “the mood” strikes and I decide that something needs to be done “right.” Recently, the mood almost caused me to miss out on going to my favorite morning coffee place with friends.

I was ready for the day when I looked closely at the brush and comb I had just used and determined it might be good to clean them. So, after being sure there were no strands of hair on either, I ran warm water in the bathroom sink, swished a generous amount of shampoo into the water, and threw my comb and brush into the mixture.

It was then that the mood whispered to my brain – obviously not to the left and logical thinking side, “As long as you already have the water in the sink, why not throw in all of your combs and brushes?” “Good idea,” the non-logical (and larger) segment of my cerebrum responded. So I rounded up all of the combs and brushes I call mine: the large metal-lined curling model, the Vidal Sassoon half-round styling model,  the round RPM -12, the oval shaped lifting type, two rattail combs, and I even tossed in my pretty blue hair pick. Then for good measure I went to my purse and took out my four inch wind-defense comb.  It joined its pals in the water.

Totally forgetting about the bathing combs, I accomplished several tasks indoors before going to the yard to water my plants and do battle with the dandelions.  As expected, the wind was blowing, and by the time I finished working in the yard, my hair was standing on end. 

As I climbed the steps to return to the condo, the phone was ringing.  Friends wanted us to go for coffee.  A wonderful idea! I just needed to brush my hair. 

Note to self: Never wash all hair brushes, combs, and picks at the same time.

Drawing by Edward Lear (1818 – 1888)