Month: March 2008

Me? Clip Coupons?

This is a question for all of you folks in the coupon clipping club out there, of which I am unfortunately not a member of. I have never had any success with clipping coupons – do you have any pointers for me? Websites I can go to ?

I do not like purchasing un-needed items just because I can get a deal. To me, that’s a waste of money…stocking up is one thing, but buying 4 cans of shaving cream so I can get two free is not saving money in my book. But mainly because I don’t use shaving cream. Catch my drift? I’m talking about seriously saving money on my grocery bill (ie – food, personal items, etc) I’d love to hear from you – I know there are some mighty thrifty women out there and I have it from reliable sources that some of you even get money back.

Tell me how this is possible. And how can I do it??? Shoot it into the comments, won’t you?

(Today’s edition of WFMW is totally backwards – we ask the questions and our readers give us the hints. Find out more here.)

Karen signature

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Dear K,

Today is the eleventh anniversary of an event that has done more to shape and mold me into a better human than almost anything else in my life has done. With the exception of the day I asked Jesus to be Lord of my life, the birth of my you, my daughter, will remain one of the most memorable and life-changing occasions I have ever experienced.

I am thankful for the blessings and challenges that being your mom means. Today is your special day and we are taking the day off of school to do whatever you want. When you handed me your list last night with a few things you wanted to do on your birthday, aside from our old standbys (no school and baking), I was surprised. You wanted cinnamon toast for breakfast and to go to the library so you can find some more books in the series you are reading. The last item on your list was “Rent a movie from Redbox”.

Are you a great kid or what? No mention of gifts, parties, cakes, etc. You enjoy the simple things and I simply enjoy you. I am so thankful that I have the privilege of being your mom. You have helped grow me into the person I am and I want to just take a minute to thank you. Thanks for being such a great kid. Thanks for being such a wonderful and loving daughter. Thanks for always putting your little brother and sister’s needs before your own. Thanks for cleaning out the cat litter box. Thanks for folding that load of laundry when I wasn’t looking.

So I’m taking the day off from reading blogs and blogging to do just that. I’m going to just enjoy being with my eleven year old.

I love you, Katie!


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There’s nothing more valuable than knowledge…

Sometimes I like to analyze my keyword stats so I know how people are finding my blog, sometimes I wish I hadn’t looked.

Tonight, I saw thirteen visits from someone today looking for a blog about the beauty of circumcisi*n. Thirteen. I don’t think they found what they were looking for, since they kept coming back, obviously still, you know – searching…and I don’t know that it was my witty reparte that was keeping them entertained. *Shudder* Is there anything beautiful about that particular procedure? Someone want to enlighten me here?

Now I DO hope that the lady in New Mexico that was looking for a crock pot breakfast recipe will try this one. Because it’s really good. And no, my stats didn’t tell me it was a woman…common sense did. Do you know any men that use crockpots? Or search for breakfast recipes on the interweb? (and have you noticed that for someone who loves looking on the bright side of things how many of my recipes include the word “serious”?)

And would you believe that dear little Logan is still garnering me at least 50-100 hits a week? Unbelievable. So is his story. Check it out here if you haven’t already heard it.

For the person that found my blog by googling “Are there snakes everywhere in Texas?” My answer? Umm…YES. That’s like asking if there are Eskimos in Alaska. There’s no getting away from them – but us Texans are pretty adaptable human beings. We have learned that we can peacefully co-exist with all manner and sorts of snakes as long as we are in our cars and can run over the suckers. Or “hoe” ’em to death. Whatever works. Like I said, it’s peaceful out in the country.

I offer up my apologies to the person who was searching for bridal shower devotions and came up with this photo. I am having a difficult time with the post and it is taking a lot longer than I sexpected expected because of the use of the word sex. This is a family friendly blog and I do not want to offend the delicate sensibilites of my mother-in-law and my sister…the only two people who read my blog with any regularity. I’m still trying to figure that one out.

For the poor soul who googled “is your iPod ruined if it gets wet?” the answer is a definite “yes”. Especially if you wash it in the washing machine. At least that’s Melodee’s experience. I wouldn’t advise getting it wet. And if you do, I hope you’ve purchased insurance. And if you purchased insurance, don’t tell them you got it wet. Which wouldn’t be the truth, so nevermind…you’re seriously messed up. Just don’t get it wet, ‘k?

And lastly, I don’t think I’ve ever recited that famous speech by Abraham Lincoln…you know the one…oh…what’s it called? Oh yeah. The Gettysburg Address. So for my dear friend (you know who you are) who googled it and somehow landed on my blog, here it is compliments of The Columbia Encyclopedia, Sixth Edition — because I just couldn’t pull it out of my memory banks 27 years after learning it. I’m only human. That’s why we have the internet. To do our thinking for us. Thanks Google. Oh…and Al Gore.

Gettysburg Address

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.


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Who’s the Captain of My Ship?

Have you ever navigated a boat?

I spent a large portion of my growing up years in Alaska where my step-dad had a 42-foot fishing boat. The Maple Leaf had been purchased from a friend in Gig Harbor, Washington in the late ‘70s, where she had been sunk in a fierce storm right in the safety of the boat harbor, tied up to the dock in her slip, of all places. My step dad had her shipped to him in Homer, a small fishing and tourist town on the South Kenai Peninsula, when he retired from his state job. He spent a couple of years completely renovating her, inside and out, and placed her in the Homer boat harbor when she was finally seaworthy. She left the waters only during the winter months, when the fishing wasn’t good.

I spent every summer on that boat from the time I was 12 until I turned 18 and left home. If the wind was below 15 knots and the seas weren’t too choppy, we were going to be somewhere fishing. Halibut, King salmon, reds, crab, and shrimp. Even the octopus didn’t stand a chance when we got out on the water, as we always seemed to pull them up with the crab pots, red and angry at having been plucked from the safety of the cold, dark depths of their ocean home.

Our mornings began before 6am – no summer vacation when there was fishing to be done. Bleary-eyed until the smell of the saltwater hit my nostrils, I usually perked up about the time my step dad was piloting the boat out of the harbor. There was a no-wake rule, (as I’m sure all harbors must have, although I’ve never been in another one so I have no way of knowing) and it seemed to take an excruciatingly long time before we left the grey rocky mouth of the harbor for the beautiful open waters of Cook Inlet. The view was breathtaking once we rounded the end of the Homer Spit and headed out to sea and I never tired of seeing it. Off in the distance was Gull Island, a large outcropping of rocks that were home to angry seagulls, puffins, and even a few otters. Mountains rose like sentries on both sides of the inlet and followed us on our 20 mile journey.

Sometimes there was a low-lying fog on the water and it made our travel slower. The CB was always on and occasionally the harbormaster’s voice could be heard giving somewhat static shout-outs about the weather or boats in the vicinity. Mostly though, it was quiet. But on the days when there was no fog and the sun was glistening on the water, I knew to be in my first mate’s spot on the upper deck, for those were the days I got to pilot the boat. I was left alone on deck while my step dad went below to prepare the poles and cut the bait. It was never what you would call warm on any of those mornings, usually around 45 or 50 degrees, but by layering a flannel shirt with a long sleeve t-shirt, combined with the canopy on the boat, it was quite nice. It was a good feeling to be considered responsible and trustworthy enough to be left alone at the helm.

My step dad taught me to pick out a spot in the horizon, in the direction of our destination, and just steer towards it, keeping an eye out for floating objects like driftwood, kelp, and marker floats, which all had the capability to get caught in the engine blades at the back of the boat, and could render us helpless. Course-correct if you have to go around any such object. Get back on course as quickly as possible. Don’t look behind you at the wake, you’ll only get off-course again. Scan the horizon for other boats and stay on the starboard (or right side) of all passing boats. There were so many rules in boating that you had to know or someone could be seriously hurt, or worse, die.

Here I am, all these years later, still trying to pilot the boat. Knowing the course that has been set before me, I sit at the helm, once again shouldering the heavy responsibility of being a good wife, mother, daughter, teacher, friend. At times, the waters have been smooth and calm – everything has fallen into place for me and I’ve known exactly where I’m going and what I’m supposed to be doing. Yet, for the past year and a half, the waters have been more turbulent and sometimes I lose sight of that spot in the horizon because the waves are above my head and my boat is in the valley of the giant swells. I am suddenly fearful and I feel unsure of how to correct, because I honestly don’t know if I am capable of doing it myself. I wonder how I got so off course and if God will deliver me or will He allow me to drown in this storm of my own making?

Am I not unlike the boat that has sunk in the harbor, while safely moored in my own slip? Have I anchored myself to the things of earth, rather than laying up my treasure in Heavenly places? Why is it that I yearn for a restoration…a new start with my husband, my children, my friends, and especially my Savior?

Lord, restore me so that I may be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for Your use, and prepared unto every good work. If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to turn the helm back over to You. I’m done with piloting this boat.


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I must be coming down with something…

I have been on a cleaning frenzy today. I cleaned out my pantry and dish cupboard and wiped everything down, sorted through, threw old and mismatched stuff out. Whatever this is that I’ve contracted has bitten me pretty severely, because I’m even considering moving my fridge and cleaning under and behind it, along with my washer and dryer.

Must the be 73 degree weather. My windows are open, the lilies are blooming, my yard is covered with a bed of clover, needing to be mowed. It’s starting. Summer is right around the corner and I don’t feel ready. (Not that you have to be “ready” for summer to arrive, mind you.) There are so many things that need to be done around my house that I’ve lost count and my poor husband’s “honey-do” list is seemingly endless.

I’d better be getting back to it. I only have so much time in the day to slay those proverbial dragons.


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