The Thorn in My Side(Walk)

I've been thinking a lot lately about self-improvements.  I've read articles; I've bought books; I've actually started working on a few things.  But I am having difficulty getting my head around all of these self-improvement goals of mine.  You see, I am a waverer.

Some days I waver between "Oh, heck, I am what I am" and "I have to do better in this area!"   "This" can mean a number of things--getting into shape, getting more organized, getting more spiritual...you name it.  I'm sure there is nothing wrong with trying to improve oneself at the age of sixty-four even though some people might say, "Too late" while others might say, "About time."  (I waver on those opinions, too.)

So this morning I was in the "I have to do better" mode and decided to attack two of my present self-improvement goals.  I was going to walk and "be spiritual."  I figured that the walking part would be natural and easy.   After all, for much of my adult life, I was a runner.  I easily ran anywhere from 10-15 miles a week, sometimes more--not a marathon but hey...So walking should be a breeze.

Since walking wouldn't be a problem, then it shouldn't be difficult to pray and talk to God while I was walking.   Surely, I can walk and talk, right?  So off I went, and at a good pace as well.  I was getting in the zone both physically and spiritually.  I was thanking God for the beauty of the morning.  I was expressing how I know He doesn't ever leave us; we are the ones who distance ourselves from Him.  I vowed to make myself do the things to draw me closer to God--to make me always aware of Him. 

I don't know about you, but sometimes I get busy in my own busyness and leave God alone.  After all, I am sure He is very busy Himself.  But you must know that when I really, really need Him (as in "HELP!"), I definitely expect Him to be with me and He is.  Now, I know that is not very spiritually mature and I admitted that to God this morning.  (I'm pretty sure He already knew it though.)

Trying to grow spiritually, I remembered that our Sunday School teacher told us that we not only need to pray but we also need to listen--listen for God's voice; listen for His guidance.  So, after awhile this morning, I quit talking to God and started trying to listen.  (I really wish He would talk louder.)  I wasn't sure that He talked to me at all though because it sounded a lot like me talking to me. 

Maybe I just didn't give Him enough time.  But I was really interested and determined to hear Him--I was there with an open heart, an open mind and a respectable walking pace.  I was aware of my surroundings (and focusing on God).  Being aware of my surroundings is especially important since the sidewalks are typical of old neighborhoods--sometimes they're broken making a stumble possible if you are not paying attention.  But I was paying attention--thank goodness.  I have taken a tumble before on walks.  Not today though.

But being so aware, so focused on God, I didn't foresee another mishap seconds from happening.  Out of the blue and all of a sudden something fiercely slapped into my hand and legs.  I didn't know what it was, but I immediately felt the pain from it.  Then quick as a wink out from my mouth came the loudest and worst #$@&%*! ever! 

I looked down to find that I was stuck with thorns (BIG thorns) across my legs and in my hand. Where, oh where, had that come from (the branch not the expletive--I knew where the words had come from, unfortunately!)  Then I saw the overgrown bush with one branch, so innocuously-looking from a few feet away, reaching across the sidewalk waiting to attack me.

I immediately recognized the irony of the situation as I was picking out the thorns.  How can a person go from so reverent to so profane so instantaneously.  I guess God understands and, thank goodness, His love is unconditional, but honestly--it was just a split second!

Realizing how abrupt my change of focus and attitude occurred, it was definitely a disappointment to me--after all, I was really trying.  But those thorns stuck in my legs and hand took my immediate attention.  They were ridiculously painful.

However, as I continued my walk (yes, I continued), I thought about thorns in general and I thought specifically about the crown of thorns that Christ was made to wear.  What pain He had to endure.  A few were dreadful to me but a crown of them?  Oh my!  

So, I admit--I definitely have a ways to go on my spiritual journey.  But maybe my walk did my body and spirituality some good today!

I think I actually learned a few things:

• It is terribly easy for me to "stumble."
• When I stumble, literally or figuratively, I usually say things I wish I hadn't.
• Christ never stumbled but still suffered; the depth of suffering that Christ endured for us all was more than I have ever physically endured.
• There are pitfalls (thorns) everywhere and no matter how often you talk and listen to God or how close you feel to Him, you can still experience a "thorn." 
• Those people whose lives seem extraordinarily smooth and spiritually rich likely have a few unexpected thorns show up along their paths as well.  

Not bad for a thirty minute walk.

Thinking Small

I've been trying to think small lately.  "No, you have it wrong," you say.  "Think BIG."  Isn't that the idea our society wants us to adopt.  Bigger dreams, bigger houses, bigger bank accounts, bigger number of followers on Facebook--everything and anything that is big is supposed to be better.

Truthfully, I've always liked big.  I've totally bought into the concept of big is good, more is better.  If you are in my house, you know it.  And, if you are in my attic, you would actually see it.  Our attic just got a lot more crowded when I was preparing for company recently.   I used it to store things from the house which couldn't be hidden in the microwave or under the bed or in the car.  Doing that led me to see how much better (and bigger) my house looked.   See, I told you I bought into the BIG idea.

So it's obvious that I really need to get rid of things.  (Not the first time I've had this thought.  Really it happens each change of season, each time I clean my house, each time I go to the attic.)  But this thought process has also been instigated by a book I recently bought (and rediscovered while removing piles).   It is called The Big Tiny by Dee Williams.  It is about a young woman who after some health problems decided to sell her big house, which was consuming her time and money in repairs as well as maintenance, and build herself tiny house.  

Now she is not the only one that has had this idea.  The tiny house concept has become quite popular.  This movement is almost a decade old now. I'm sure you have heard of it.  There is even a television series called "Tiny House Nation."  Some of these "tiny houses" are as big as 300 square feet.  Dee Williams house is only 86 square feet and cost her $10,000.

In her memoir she states, “The best part of living in a little house is discovering that I can now work part time.  There’s no hefty mortgage or utility bills, no credit card debt tied to fixing the furnace or purchasing a new couch to fill the void in the living room…there is no void in the living room. Now I’ve got time to hang out with my friends, and to go for a long walk in the middle of the day. I have time to hang out with my neighbor’s four year old, and show him how to plant sunflower seeds in the garden. It’s the gift of time; that’s the best part of the deal.” 


Anyway, all of this has me thinking--hypothetically, what would I have to have in a tiny house?   Obviously, just personal necessities.  The tiny houses are built with amazingly cute multipurpose spaces--like the kitchen island that is also a dog crate or the book case that is also a Murphy bed.  Or the kitchen table that makes into a lovely guest bed.  (Oh, I just made some of that up, but I'm sure it would be possible in the tiny house world of thinking.)

No matter how creative the design is, there is just so much space.  To fit in a tiny house, no matter who you are, you will have to purge.

I think about all the stuff I now own--clothes, jewelry, shoes, books, art stuff, furniture, dishes, knick-knacks, wall decor/pictures, family pictures, toys for the grandson, linens, blankets, tablecloths, keepsakes, grooming aids and appliances, hair products and makeup, children's possessions (will you keep this for me for awhile, mom?), yard stuff, cleaning equipment.  And that doesn't even include the attic.

So let's say I am moving to a tiny house.   Help me think this through...I would need a bathtub for when I get jumpy legs--okay, I promise to take my meds on time and forego the space for a tub.  I could probably just have a microwave and a fridge.  Kinda want a dishwasher though.  And those 2 burner stove tops would be handy.  Of course a washer and dryer--probably the kind that is one unit but does both things. 

Since the essentials are built-in, all I have to do now is decide what personal items I would need.  How many clothes and shoes and books, and jewelry are mandatory?  This is going to be hard.

Let's start there--with my wardrobe.  Thinking about closet space, how about if I would take 2 pair of jeans and 5 casual tops (remember now Dee and I only "have to work part time"), pair of nice black pants, 4 nice tops, a blazer-type jacket, a cardigan sweater, and a coat--can't be too big though but we don't have all that many really really cold days.  Then there would be a pair casual shoes, pair of tennis shoes, a pair of boots, gloves, sock hat. 

I'd take a set of sheets, a blanket, 2 towels and 4 washcloths (I don't know why 4 washcloths but only 2 towels), 2 kitchen towels and again 4 dishcloths. 

I'd take my Samsung Galaxy and iPhone for reading material, plus my Bible.  (Can't take all those books, for heaven's sake.)   Of course, the computer--have to get a laptop replacement.  Yes, I would have to have a TV, but that could be built in over the dining table/guest bed/dog crate/fireplace.  No problem.

What else?  Kitchen things--my coffee maker, 4 plates, 4 cups, 1 pot, 1 skillet, spatula, wooden spoon, can opener (manual), 4 place settings of silver ware.  Oh, I also will need a mixing bowl and 2 or 3 serving dishes for when company comes over.  (You will come over, won't you?) 

Well, I guess I have figured it out.  I would just pack one suitcase and really not even need a "carry-on" and drive on over to my new tiny house.  No need for a moving van.  Unpacking and arranging won't take long.

I guess I'd better meet my new neighbors and hang out with their children and plant some sunflower seeds.  Uh-oh,  I didn't bring my gardening tools.  Hmmm.  Well, forget that.  We'll read a book.  Nope, no books.  We can make cookies--yikes!  No oven.  We will go for a long walk--hope it's not too hot or too cold cause I don't have any shorts or a really big coat.

Maybe a tiny house is not for me, but at least, I have a clearer idea of what is really important and necessary and what is not.  And not surprisingly, lots of my things would fall under the "not necessary" side of the tally sheet which is probably true for all of us.

I have convinced myself to do a purging in this house and attic.  I am going to try to reduce the clutter, clothes, decorations, papers, books, toys, and all those other extras.

I am going to think smaller--less is more.  Yes?  (we'll see....)

Spirited and Spiritual

I've been going to church a lot the last few months.  That probably shouldn't be a significant statement--I was brought up going to church every Sunday morning for Sunday School and Church, every Sunday night for Training Union and Church, and every Wednesday night for Choir, G.A.s and Church (actually on Wednesdays Church was called "Prayer Meeting.")

But I must admit I have been less than faithful in church attendance the last few years. I guess if we still had to fill out the offering envelopes like we were given each week back then, I would not be getting 100% these days.

You remember those envelopes.  They had the little boxes in which you checked the categories that you did that week.  The boxes were labeled something like "Present," "On Time," "Daily Bible Reading," "Contacts," "Offering," and maybe some other categories.  As I remember, they all had a percentage attached to each box.  I'm not sure which ones ranked higher in the percentages,  but somehow they all equaled up to a 100%.  I guess that meant if you could check them all then you were a 100% Christian at least for that week.

I was diligent back then.  I wanted to be a 100% Christian, so I tried my best to be able to complete each category.  The hardest category was the "Daily Bible Readings."  Naturally, that would be the hardest--there wasn't a question of being "Present" or "On Time" although now I wonder how Mom did that with four children.  I don't think I was ever on time to church (or practically anywhere else) with my three young children.  And the older they got, the later we got there.

The "Offering" was a given too.  Mom would give us our money to put in.  So that was done.  And as for the "Contacts," my sister and I were always checking with each other or our friends from church to see if they were going to church.  I'm pretty positive that it was more a matter of making sure we had someone to sit with than their spiritual health.  Plus then we could check the "Contacts" box!  Important.

But that pesky "Daily Bible Reading" took the most discipline.  (It's kinda like taking your make-up off now.  You feel guilty if you skip it even if you are too tired to do another thing.  Nevertheless, you drag yourself to the bathroom and clean your face--feeling quite righteous afterwards.)  I remember a few times (okay, many times) thinking I was too tired to read all those verses--in the King James Version, no less. However, knowing come Sunday I would have to fill out my envelope, I would drag the Bible and quarterly to the bed and "read" it.  (This too creates that "righteous" feeling--at least back then...well, maybe now a little too!)

Actually, I remember my sister and I sometimes would take turns reading aloud so one person could do the work and two could get the credit.  We were both good readers, so it wouldn't take long to say the words.  I can't say I was always really reading the words or listening too much to the words, but the Bible was opened and the scheduled readings were duly completed for the day; therefore, even that box could be checked.

So, with such strong and worthwhile habits instilled in me while growing up, you would think it would be a given that I still had these habits.  My thoughts exactly.  But I have unfortunately learned that bad habits are way easier to keep than good habits.  So the fact that I have been returning to my good habit of being "Present" at Sunday School and Church feels right (and maybe, once again, a little righteous!)

But it has also made me wonder about things like "Spirituality."  (I wonder if "Spiritual" was one of the boxes that I may have forgotten?   Maybe it would be one now if they still had those envelopes.)  I know these days more and more people, young and old, have given to being "Home Churched" rather than going to Church--they are "Spiritual" rather than "Religious."

I'm sure there are lots of "official" explanations for this trend.  But I am looking for my own personal answer.  I guess I am wondering how I can be spiritual, religious, church-going, a 100% Christian each week yet still be me--spirited yet growing in spirituality. 

Maybe I'll resort back to the checklist--revisited and revised.  This will be my own little church envelope:

        

Present

Bible Reading

SS/Church

Offerings

Spiritual Growth

Well, it's a start!  Obviously, I won't be turning this in each Sunday, but, hopefully, the accountability will be here with this post.  I'll let you know.  Plus, I really like these cute little pink squares!
                                
Leta

Mr. McVeeBee

I wish I had been Andy Taylor, Sheriff Taylor, that is, when my children were growing up.  Oh, heck, I wish I were him now.  I'm sure he would have been as good a grandparent as he was a parent--a single parent at that.

Here's why--in case you have forgotten the gentle sheriff or if you haven't watched "The Andy Griffith Show" recently. (Why you should watch this delightful show is for a whole other post!)

But this morning I joined the husband while he was watching some old "Andy Griffith"--the early black and white series with little Opie, Aunt Bee, Barney, and, of course, the oh-so-wise and patient Sheriff Taylor.  In this episode, Opie got himself in trouble (at least with Barney) about his imagination.

At first it was the black horse that he galloped around on and then, when called into breakfast, he tied the horse to the hitching post outside the back door.  Literal Barney totally bought into the black horse story and of course was puffed up and indignant when he realized it was a "play-like" black horse.

Then Opie, while roaming around in the woods, discovered a telephone lineman working high in the trees.  Mr. McVeeBee and Opie became friends at once.  (Remember this was in the 50's--in the time that kids could play outside, walk around in the town or woods, visit with strangers, and go home in time for supper.)

The conflict is this episode was whether to believe Opie or not when he claimed to have met Mr. McVeeBee.   

In an online summary of the show, it says, "Opie talks excitedly about his new friend, Mr. McVeeBee, and describes him in fantastical terms (he walks in the treetops, wears a silver hat, has twelve extra hands, blows smoke from his ears, etc.). At first Andy and Barney accept this as childhood make-believe, but when Opie starts coming home with a series of gifts (including an Indian hatchet) supposedly from Mr. McVeeBee, Andy is forced to call the fantasizing to a halt. Meanwhile, we are made privy to the fact that Mr. McVeeBee is indeed real and that his whimsical quirks all have a rational explanation. Andy tells Opie he will not punish him if he denies Mr. McVeeBee's existence."

Although Opie tries to deny Mr. McVeeBee's existence to stay out of a punishment, he can't.  Nor can Andy punish him for his determined belief.  Does one have to see Mr. McVeeBee to believe he exists?  What a choice:  reason or faith?

Even though that series is old, the parable that it illustrates is still relevant, impressive and thought-provoking today.  What an impact that had on me.

But I also was touched once again by the gentleness, kindness, and patience that Andy had with little Opie.  Of course, that was fiction; that constantly calm, rational, and soft-spoken parent really doesn't exist, right?

Let me say, they do exist.  The way Andy handled this situation with Opie in today's show reminds me of how my daughter and her husband deal with my grandson.  Never raising their voices; always removing him from a situation when he is having a problem or a disagreeable moment, and then talking to him gently, not losing their cool, using logic--not threats.  Yes, it exists.  It exists in my sweet daughter and son-in-law's home.  Oh my, they are so good with that little "Opie" of theirs.  I am so proud of them.

Like I said, I wish I had been that "Andy Taylor-wise" while my own children were growing up.  Maybe if I just spend the day watching more of him, it will rub off on me.  I'm suggesting that simply to learn, you know, not to put off my chores.  Hmmm, now how would Andy handle that?

Okay,  off to work I go..........maybe!  But if you don't have chores, tune in to Andy!

Leta

Judging

Judging:  1.   a balanced viewpoint through careful weighing of evidence; discernment
                2.   criticism

I looked up this word even though I "know" what it means.  You, too, know what it means, right?  We do it all the time although we may not use the actual word.   In fact, we may not even use the first definition.  The second one is so much easier.

How easy it is to "judge" other people by criticizing them (of course when they can't hear us).  What an abundant amount of material there is to "judge" them by.  We may judge a person by the way she dresses, talks, where he lives, what they do.  So I guess unfortunately all my "judging" fits the second definition.  But look at that first one--"a balanced viewpoint through careful weighing of evidence."  My!  Who has time to carefully weigh evidence when you are judging!  I say that with sarcasm but I think it may be truer than I would want it to be.

In a courtroom I expect a "balanced viewpoint."  The judge will look at all the sides of the evidence before announcing an opinion.  But out of the courtroom, we all too often become "judges" but not necessarily with care or balance or discernment.  We, or I, go directly to the criticism definition.

We've been taught that it is wrong to judge.  It's in the Bible; it is part of parents' and teachers' instructions to their kids.   So why do we do it?

Maybe we don't think we are doing it; maybe we have done it so much that it really doesn't phase us anymore.  Nevertheless, why am I thinking about it today?


I guess it started when my son-in-law who lives nearby asked if he could borrow my paints.  I said, "Of course, but I have to find them."  I knew they were in my room, but that night my room was a mess.  (Don't judge me!)

He followed me to the room and I looked in all the places I thought they might be in.  Well, it was really a little more complicated than that because I had to step over piles all around my unmade bed to do so.  (I have excuses if you want to hear them.)  Nevertheless, I finally found them.

I also found that I was exceedingly embarrassed about the state of the room--enough so that I attacked the room the very next day and put it in perfect order.  I was quite pleased with myself and decided to send Shaun a picture of it.  I wanted him to see for himself that the room was clean and is most of the time (okay--some of the time).

So I sent him the picture of a very clean, organized, neat room with a message that stated something like, "See, I can clean it up."  He sent back this message:  "I won't judge you if you won't judge me!"

Wow!  What an amazing young man.  And the truth of it is that he means it.  I know how easy it is to say the right thing but it is hard to always mean it.  This guy is so genuine and sensible and nonjudgmental.  He taught me something that day and I have thought of that comment many times since.

Judging--at least the second part of the definition, criticism--is so a part of our culture.  We see in politics the constant judging and criticizing.  In churches, the ministers are the first to be judged.  Even in small groups of friends, we judge.  We may like to call it discussing (gossip?), but in doing so, do we "achieve a balanced viewpoint?"  Or do we just point out how someone is different from us (generally meaning they are wrong or not as good as we are)?

Judging others is not the only way of judging.  I see it frequently as a personal thing.  I judge myself often and I must say rather harshly.  I think I ought to be as organized as so-and-so.  Or enjoy cooking as much as that person.  Or have a perfect marriage like "those" people.  When expressing these shortcomings of mine, a very wise person said these words to me:  "Do not judge others' outsides by your insides."
   



Wow again!  I must admit I have done that.  Those people living in those big, beautiful houses must have it made.  That couple is always holding hands; they must have a great marriage.  That top dog executive has it all!  What a life.   The Life looks so good from the outside.  However, we really don't know their stories;  we don't know what all goes on the inside of that house or that person.  Their real stories may make us grateful for ours. 



Okay, so all this judging, criticizing, or discerning--whatever you call it--happens.  We deal with it.  We resolve not to be so judgmental.  We try to have a more balanced viewpoint.  We fail and we try again.

I doubt that judging others or ourselves will stop; maybe reading this and thinking about judging will help.  Maybe Shaun's comment will stick in your mind as it has mine.

But in case I have become too didactic, let me close with the quote:

If you care to walk in my shoes, go ahead.  Plus, I'll tell you right now, you can even keep the shoes.  They probably hurt my feet anyway.

Judging not,
Leta

Is Free Too Expensive?

Lately, I have become quite engaged with finding treasures, getting them practically free, and trying my hand at reselling them in my booth at an antique mall.    I call it "my hobby."  Hobbies are good, right?  Well, for me this "hobby" has started having some definite down sides. 

Sometimes I wonder if the neighbors are looking out their windows at all the junk I take into the house and all the junk I bring back out.  Now, I'm not being paranoid.  I know they don't watch or care what I do, so maybe I am just wondering myself why all this junk is being brought in and out of the house; maybe I am questioning the value of my "hobby."

The obvious reason for the transferring of all this junk is to fill my booth and become rich!  Well, at least, to make enough to support my hobby.  It has been a break-even endeavor for awhile.  In fact, I did well enough to have two booths for a few months.  Now for some reason I haven't even made my rent on one so I decided I would stop for awhile. 

Booth I now share with Susie!

But, (isn't there always a "but?"), a friend I met since starting the booth wanted me to share her booth.  Well,  needless to say, I was talked into it.   The rent will be a lot less; the fun part of this racket will continue for awhile anyway; but, alas, the junk will still be going in and out of my house.

Today was the day to totally close my booth and move stuff to hers.  In the process, I had to move many of my treasures (junk?) home again.   I have just finished unloading the trunk by putting it on the porch to expedite the process of getting stuff out of the trunk in the rain. 

Then I dragged the stuff into the house to decide what will go back to the trunk to take to Goodwill.  And while I'm at Goodwill, I might as well cruise through the shop and see if there are some good things at good prices (practically free) to take back home and eventually to the booth.

That's why the image of the neighbors slyly peering out their windows, clucking in disapproval, texting their neighbors to watch the fiasco, and writing down some of the items that were littered around the porch to be sure to discuss at their next neighborhood get-together came into my mind.  (It probably happened on "Desperate Housewives.")

This parade, of course, starts when I buy the "whatevers," unload them out of the trunk, and bring them into the house.  Then the scenario continues when I clean the stuff up,  paint it, or simply get the price tags off (not an easy project) and lug it back to the trunk to go to the booth.

So you can imagine why I am wondering about all of this today after once again carting these "treasures" in and out of the car, the house, and the car again.

However, to make this all seem a little more worthwhile, I should tell you that I have learned some things from this experience.  I have grown.  I am probably a better person because of it.  Let's see if I can verbalize it so you can totally see how much smarter I am about this business and life in general than when I started a year and a half ago.

1.  If you don't leave something in the booth long enough, it won't sell.
2.  If you leave something in the booth too long, it won't sell.
3.  If it is priced too low, it won't sell.
4.  If it is priced too high, it won't sell.

So, you see, I have it all figured out, don't I?  Okay, I am being a little jaded.  This is a tricky business though.  You get something you think will sell the next day, and it takes weeks (if at all) to sell.  Then some things are gone the next day.  Yay!  But it is pretty trendy.  My problem is that I really like trends, but I'm usually into the last trend not the latest trend.  

So you may be actually wondering, like I imagine my neighbors are--if they cared, why I am doing this, the answer is, "I don't know!"  I'm trying to figure it out.  It is fun, but time-consuming.  It is costing me more money than I would like.  It is cluttering up my house (at least my attic) and my mind.  It is leaving too little time for other things I want and need to do.

Hmmm.  Maybe I am figuring it out after all; it is dawning on me that this "hobby" and/or obsession is becoming too expensive and not just financially.  The quest, the parade, the trade, and all the rest may need to be minimized in my life.  In fact, it may need a complete break.  I know!  I know!  What will the neighbors do without having a parade to watch??? 

I guess it is true:  "What you get free costs too much." (Jean Anouilh) 

An Honest to the Core Man

My Dad popped into my mind this morning.  Maybe because one of my uncles, Dad's youngest brother, is terribly sick.  Maybe because I was getting some tape off something I just painted and thinking about how Dad would do it.  He was always so meticulous.  Or maybe it was because of the lemon and avocado I got yesterday from the grocery store.

Oh, I think of Dad quite often actually.  It is interesting to me to see what triggers my memories of him and Mom.  But this morning, I think it was all of those things, but the lemon and avocado are the point of this story.  (Yes, there is a point!)

Late yesterday afternoon I bought groceries while waiting to get my prescriptions filled in the in-store pharmacy.  I bought the usual essentials and grabbed the avocado and lemon as I passed the produce table and threw them in the purse part of the shopping cart--that is what that little seat thingy in the cart is for, right?

My effort to pick up just a few things ended up totaling $92.00.  It was just a few things, but of course, anymore a "few things" generally totals about $100.00.  That makes me think of Dad, too.  He used to say that no matter what you went into a big store for--even if it was just one thing--you could count on spending at least $20.00--a "cover charge," he explained.    In his estimate you could not get out of the store for less than $20 a bag.  Now I think it is even more than that.

Nevertheless, after cringing a tad at my "mid-week-grab-a-few-things" grocery stop, I had to repeat the expense when I picked up my prescriptions.   Criminey!

Then to the car, I trudged, contemplating the amount of money I spent in such a short time and how tiring it was to wander around the grocery/big box store.  While throwing the sacks into the car, I saw them.  Right under my purse in the "purse thing" of the cart were the lemon and avocado.  Darn it, I thought, or words to the effect.

I looked back at the store miles and miles away from where I parked and decided that the next time I was in the store (which likely would be the next day) I would tell them to add the price of a lemon and avocado to my bill.  That assuaged my immediate guilt and I went home.

So that brings me to this morning and Dad.  I remember this story so clearly because it was so Dad.  One time Mom got home from grocery shopping at her local big box store and was examining her receipt which she did frequently.  However, this time she noticed that the clerk had not charged her for the cokes.  As she also frequently did, she asked my dad about it--what should she do?  It amounted to probably $2 or $3.

Well, Dad, being the most ethical person ever, answered her by asking her, "What would you do if they had overcharged you?"  That was all Mom needed to hear.  She got back in her car and drove to the store and paid for the cokes.

That was Dad.  He was honest to the core; he really didn't believe in those wonderful gray areas that we--or at least I--sometimes like to live in--where things can be justified to fit one's immediate need.  He lived without rationalizing--"well, that store makes plenty of money" or "they sure are making a profit on those meds so what's a couple of dollars?  They won't miss it."

But in Dad's head it was wrong.  I agree it is wrong.  But it was a gray-sorta day.  And I was very, very tired--I had been on my feet doing art with the preschool kids for a couple of hours (that's a good thing, right, God?) and I had spent an hour or so before that wandering around a couple of other stores and Keith was home and hungry.  See, how good I am at rationalizing!   So I went home without paying for the lemon and avocado.

Hmmmm.  I guess I'd better get my store clothes on and go back to the store and pay up!

Thanks, Dad.  I feel better already!