Funny Friday ~ Affordable Golf Club Act

 Affordable Golf Club Act

        The administration has passed a new law titled: "The Affordable Golf Club Act" declaring that every citizen must purchase a new set of golf clubs, before April 2014.

       

        This law has been passed, because until now, typically only the wealthy or financially responsible have been able to purchase new golf clubs without the assistance of their government.

       

        This new law ensures that every American can now have "affordable" golf clubs of their own, because everyone is equally entitled to new golf clubs. And if you want to keep the golf clubs you already have, you can do that, until April 2014.

       

        These affordable golf clubs will cost from $1,000 to $3,000 each depending on your income level. This does not include taxes, pull cart, electric cart fees, green fees, membership fees, balls, tees, gloves, range finders, storage fees, maintenance, or repair costs.

       

        In order to make sure everyone participates and purchases their affordable golf clubs, the costs of owning golf clubs will increase 50% each year up to 400% by year 2018. This way, wealthy people will pay more for something that other people don't want or can't afford to maintain. People who can't afford or refuse to maintain their golf clubs will be fined. However, children under the age of 26 can use their parents’ golf clubs until they turn 27 at which time they must purchase their own golf clubs.

       

        If you don't want or think you don't need golf clubs, you are still required to buy them. If you refuse to buy a set or make claims that you can't afford them, you will be fined $800 until you purchase a set or face imprisonment.

       

        People living in farming areas, ghettos, inner cities, Wyoming, or areas with no access to golf courses are not exempt. Age, health, prior experience or no experience is not acceptable excuses for not buying, maintaining, and using your golf clubs.

       

        A government review board that doesn't know the difference between a hook and a slice will decide everything. This includes when, where, how often and for what purposes you can use your golf clubs along with how many people can ride in your golf cart. The board will also determine if participants are too old or not healthy enough to be able to use their golf clubs.

       

        They will also decide if your golf clubs have outlived their usefulness or if you must purchase specific accessories, like a range finder with slope adjustment or a newer and more expensive set of golf clubs.

       

        Those that can afford memberships at expensive golf country clubs will be required to buy memberships. If you are already a member and you like your membership you can keep your membership. After April 2014, a different country club will be assigned for you to purchase a membership.

       

        Government officials are exempt from this new law as they and their families and some of their friends and a few of their friends can obtain golf clubs at taxpayers expense.

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A Friendly Reminder

It’s time to file your income tax, so pull out the cancelled checks and the shoe box full of receipts and get started.

There is some good news this year.

The government won't tax hen’s teeth and fish hair. 

Aren’t we lucky?

Our chickens are toothless and our fish are bald.

This Day Has Just Flu By

I'm down with a mild 24 hour something ...

or other.

Poor Hubby had it first, now me.

I keep dozing off in front of the computer.

What treatments do you recommend when you have the flu?

Opps, gotta run ... *lol*

Light Of My Life

There are so many things that are a beacon of hope to humanity, lights of our lives, if you will: friends, family, material possesions, memories, etc. God understands this since "... we are dust" [Psalms 103:14] and cannot understand all spiritual things yet. I'm thankful He forgives me of my weaknesses. It's natural to want to cling to what we are familiar with. I have my own self-made comfort zones too. One of them is financial needs.

The meeting with Financial Guy went really well. Better than I expected. I think the dangerous time for us has been averted. Hubby and I prayed before going into the meeting, seeking further guidance from the Holy Spirit who loves us best. The true Light of our lives. Our blessed Savior and He was there. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all the prayers of all you dearly, beloved saints. For you are saints. Anyone who believes in Jesus Christ is called a saint. Whenever there is a concern and believing Christians all put their spiritual “shoulders to the wheel”, things get moved. Last night I could feel your love and concern about the meeting. God answers prayer. There was peace, a calm and an understanding which we where lacking before. Thank you so much for adding your "shoulder" to our burden!

The good news made me so lite hearted that it definately called for a ride. Yucky weather be darned. We hopped on the metal steeds and galloped off into the sunset. Well, Ok, it’s too overcast to tell but there will be a sunset. *lol*

 Hubby with his 2013 Honda CB1100.

He said all it lacks is a windshield.

My 2012 Suzuki V-Strom DL650.

The most perfect motorcycle ever! 

(Not that I'm prejudiced or anything.) *lol*

We where having such a good time that even the locals where curious about our rides.

Hey, get your own wheels guys.
Silly cows. Always trying to horn in. 

Moooving right along.

Something I've done around the house lately is I've added multiple strings of LED Christmas lights. They are very inexpensive (these where only $4 a 100 light string), burn cool, use very little electricity and even though it’s a soft glow, brighten up the place.

There’s a string on each of our two back decks, one in the guest bedroom and one in my office. I think I will also add a string in the carport. Later. I’m too tired to continue any further. Stress takes a lot out of one, doesn't it.

So my hope is that every one is having a funfilled and non-stressful week. Thank you again for all the prayers and words of encouragement. And keep looking up!

Part Three: 11935 Cornelius Street

As I stated in his first post, once weekly I plan to feature a guest writer, my husband. He has been painstakingly writing down the stories of his childhood to share them with his 9 year old niece. I wanted her to know what kind of childhood her beloved Uncle was able to enjoy. While enjoying them myself I thought these are so much fun to read, why not share them? So here are the short missives of his memories of growing up in wilds of Florida during the 1950's and 1960's. They're packed with misadventures, romance, and all the confusing things that can happen in our youth. Even though his hometown of Jacksonville is a big city with over a million residents now, during his childhood it was several small communities surrounded by countryside. 

This is his story.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

11935 Cornelius Street

by Steven R. Hudson

Our house in Center Park, like most Florida homes then, was concrete block with three small bedrooms and one bath. Linoleum covered the floors throughout and the walls were rough textured plaster that "sweated" when the seasons changed. There were no trees in our yard which appeared barren except for the plugs of St. Augustine grass that gave a strange polka dot effect. It rained every afternoon in those times, or it seemed so, and the little plugs of grass sent out their "tentacles" and quickly produced a carpet of green, broken only by patches of white flowered clover. There was a large vacant lot behind the house with an ancient Long-leaf Pine on the lot's east side. We had no air conditioner to counter summer's heat but winter was made bearable by an oil fired space heater. I remember how happy we were to have our own home. Life was good.

I turned six that spring and started first grade at Southside Elementary, a school that is still part of the county school system. I caught school bus # 73

each school day, Mrs. Dent driving. My teacher, Mrs. Grady, told us that we needed to memorize our addresses and telephone numbers and to this day, I still remember them. 11935 Cornelius St. and 724-2426 or RAymond 42426 as the telephone numbers were always proceeded by the name of the exchange back then, R and A being 7 and 2 on the dial, no touchtone either. I enjoyed school, especially the days when we had art class. I loved to draw and my teacher recognized that I had some natural talent as even at that age I drew three dimensional figures and had an understanding of perspective. She told my mother that I should get training but we were poor and that would never happen. I was always given drawing supplies at home however, sometimes I would spend an entire evening drawing, mostly dinosaurs, my favorite.

That same year a family from Chattanooga, Tennessee, moved into the house directly behind ours and across from the vacant lot. Gene and Irma Mealer and their two sons, Ray and Jackie. Gene Mealer was a commercial artist and a good one. Ray and I were the same age and his brother Jackie only one year younger. We became fast friends and would remain so for many years. Our parents became friends also, especially our mothers who, to this day, are still in contact. 

There was a Mexican family, the Lopez's that lived a few houses down. They had a son my age named Roberto but we all called him Robert. I was amazed that he and his siblings could speak another language as easily as they spoke English. Robert had three sisters and three brothers, his oldest sister was already married and his oldest brother was in high school which I thought really cool. I remember his mother being a very kindly woman who loved children and was always inviting the neighborhood kids in for homemade cake and a glass of cold milk.

There were other friends that came and went as families moved in and then moved elsewhere. Many of the names I still recollect, Rick Martin, Bobby Fann, Peanut (I never knew his real name), and Bret and others I can't remember.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Paul's Phraseology

Paul's Phraseology

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society
Printer Friendly Version

The careful student of the Epistles of Paul soon observes that the Apostle makes many specific statements as to the distinctiveness of his ministry and message. Even apart from this, however, and considering his phraseology alone, we often wonder how anyone could possibly deny that his message was distinct from that which the twelve had proclaimed. Note the following examples:

Rom. 2:16: “In the day when God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ, according to MY GOSPEL.”

Rom. 16:25: “Now to Him that is of power to stablish you according to MY GOSPEL, and the preaching of Jesus Christ according to the revelation of the mystery, which was kept secret since the world began.”

II Tim. 2:7,8; “Consider what I say; and the Lord give thee understanding in all things.

“Remember that Jesus Christ, of the seed of David, was raised from the dead according to MY GOSPEL.”

Gal. 1:11: “But I certify you, brethren, that THE GOSPEL WHICH WAS PREACHED OF ME is not after man.”

Gal. 2:2: “And I went up [to Jerusalem] by revelation, and communicated unto them THAT GOSPEL WHICH I PREACH AMONG THE GENTILES, but privately to them which were of reputation, lest by any means I should run, or had run, in vain.”

I Cor. 15:1: “Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you THE GOSPEL WHICH I PREACHED UNTO YOU, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand.”

Add to this the Apostle’s explicit claims as to the distinctive character of his ministry and message and you have irrefutable proof of the fact.

---

To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:

"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."

To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

 

 

A Prayer Request

I have a humble prayer request from my fellow Prayer Warriors today.

I think it's a real priviledge to bring our needs and wants to Him and He actually listens. God always answers prayer. It may not be our way, but it's His way that will be done. But, still, He wants us to talk to Him. All the time! 24-7. And for the Saints (believers) to pray for each other.

Not that this is relevant but we're not rich. Through the years of hard work and savings, we managed to put away a bit so we would have enough to live on and not depend on the public dole. And I'm probably hyperventilating unnecessarily over this subject (not that I would ever do that) [smile] but here goes:

We are in a bit of a financial, well, difficulty, for lack of a better word. Because of our ignorance of "high finance" and bad, or lack of good, advice by our current Financial Guy, our humble annuity is now legally stuck in a 10 year something-or-other contract that was not good financial planning. To make it worse all our eggs are in one basket and our payments have stopped! We need to get out. Now. Desperation is setting in. We have taken the extra precaution of meeting with what we hope will be our new Financial Guy to learn the options. He informed us this current investment is in danger of denuding us financially. Plus we're practically living on air now. My heart almost stopped right there! This is all we have in the whole world!

But there is hope. I believe there's always hope.

Anyway, I have a humble request that my Christian friends please pray that we can get out of this situation unscathed and into another one that is once again profitable. We're not seeking riches just a safer environment for our nest egg. Neither of us can work fulltime anymore due to poor health, not that there's any work available way out here in the country (there's not). And we're trying to be smarter. I'm an Bookkeeper/Accountant, not a financial wizard! I'm sure God has already laid out the plan for our escape. The escape basket is probably already here, all we need to do is get in it so we may be lowered to safety. But I would feel better knowing that my saintly brothers & sisters are also praying for us. Of course, in my heart of hearts I know that God will guide us but I'm still trembling inside.

Also, if anyone else has any prayer requests today, please do share. Even unspoken ones are welcome. Hubby and I will be happy to also pray for others. We're always available for that!

Thank you for listening to the ramble and whine. I also thank you warmly for any prayers. I do appreciate you all very much. And may God bless you in turn. In the name of our blessed Lord Jesus Christ, I trust in God's infinite mercy.

Funny Friday ~ New Cereals In 2014

It has been reported that General Mills is partnering with Michelle Obama to promote healthy eating. These are the first two products.

Roast Chicken Breasts with Garbanzo Beans, Tomatoes, and Paprika

We had this for supper tonight. It was really easy to fix and excellent for a cold night. I recommend serving it with fresh baked bread too.

Enjoy!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Roast Chicken Breasts with Garbanzo Beans, Tomatoes, and Paprika
4 servings

Use leftovers for sandwiches the next day. Place shredded chicken, garbanzos, and tomatoes in pita bread and top with yogurt sauce.

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 garlic cloves, pressed
1 tablespoon smoked paprika*
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
1/2 cup plain yogurt or Greek yogurt
4 chicken breast halves with bones
1 15-ounce can garbanzo beans (chickpeas), drained
1 12-ounce container cherry tomatoes
1 cup chopped fresh cilantro, divided

Preheat oven to 450°F. Mix first 5 ingredients in medium bowl. Pour 1 teaspoon spiced oil mixture into small bowl; whisk in yogurt and set aside for sauce. Place chicken on large rimmed baking sheet. Rub 2 tablespoons spiced oil mixture over chicken. Add beans, tomatoes, and 1/2 cup cilantro to remaining spiced oil mixture; toss to coat. Pour bean mixture around chicken. Sprinkle everything generously with salt and pepper.

Roast until chicken is cooked through, about 20 minutes. Sprinkle with 1/2 cup cilantro. Transfer chicken to plates. Spoon bean mixture over. Serve with yogurt sauce.

*Sometimes labeled Pimentón Dulce or Pimentón de La Vera Dulce; available at some supermarkets, at specialty foods stores, and from tienda.com.

Someone Moved My Cheese

I. Have. Had. An. Epically. Rotten. Day.

Today was my usual 6 month health checkup. Things didn’t go as planned.

First, the Physicians Assistant that was attending to me this time, try to push cholesterol medicine on me.

I responded most empathically, “NO”. She finally resorted to scare tactics, “You’ll be at risk for heart attacks, stroke and Alzheimer’s.”

My little BS antenna went up. Alzheimer’s? I know I’m medically challenged but I have kept up with the studies on Alzheimer’s since my step-mother died from this disease. That is no where to be found in any of the research I’ve read.

So, thinking I’m being cool, [cough] I gently changed the subject.

“I’m having mild heart palpitations and trouble sleeping.” (All true.) The PA gave me a prescription for sleeping pills, which I’ve never, ever taken. I really don’t want to go there. And then she mentioned “We need another blood sample and you have to return in one month.”

“Why?!” I asked incredulously.

“Because your symptoms indicate a hyper-thyroid (overactive) problem.”

I know I have hypo-thyroid (underactive) and a small growth on it.

Ok, so, I can deal with that. Not happy, but not devistating.

With that heavy news that now I have to return to the doctor yet again, I took the usual prescriptions for my daily existance to have them filled. I received more unhappy news. According to my pharmacist my new insurance program makes me buy medicine every 30 days instead of the customary 90 days. [I had to change because of The Unaffordable Care Act, i.e. Obamacare.] With the former insurance program, I used to get a discount for buying 90 days at a time. So now, in a nutshell, that means we’ll be spending three times as much on medicine. This year. And, since we live way out in the country, it also entails constant trips to the pharmacy which is not one of my favorite things.

[muttered through gritted teeth] Lovely.

The day went downhill from there with me growling and biting like an old snapping turtle with a sore head. But, giving credit where credit is due, most of it is my own fault. I dislike going to doctors so much I think I set the mood for the visit. I fought with the P.A. trying to give me good advice, which is what I'm paying her for. I’ve felt tired and old of late. It seems I’m perpetually upset over money. And every time Barry Soetoro [his real name, you know] talks and bad mouths our country, my blood pressure shoots up and the veins on my neck stick out. Many times the TV has been in great danger of being altered. [lol]

Speaking of that, I doubt anyone who reads this blog regularly will waste their time watching the PO(TU)S speech? I thought not. I'd much rather have multiple root canals then put through the torture of listening to more lies.

I know, I need to pray and trust more, and think about the world less. I’ve let myself have a bad day. Entirely my own fault.

It must be age, but when someone moves my cheese now, I get all messed up. It's my fault for not leaning on the Lord and His promises.

One bright spot though, the matching Winterberry pie cooler and server set from Pfaltzgraff arrived. (The whole enchilada was less than $20 including shipping). Big heartfelt Thank You's to my dear friend Blackberry Lane for turning me onto this lovely set.

Aren’t they purdy? I'm so anxious to entertain guests so I can Wow them. I wish I could afford to buy the entire set of dishes and cups. Maybe when things are ‘better’ again. I know they will be. God never forgets us in our troubles.

Part Two: The Move To Jacksonville

As I stated in last Monday's post, once weekly I plan to feature a guest writer, my husband. He has been painstakingly writing down the stories of his childhood to share them with his 9 year old niece. I wanted her to know what kind of childhood her beloved Uncle was able to enjoy. While enjoying them myself I thought these are so much fun to read, why not share them? So here are the short missives of his memories of growing up in wilds of Florida during the 1950's and 1960's. They're packed with misadventures, romance, and all the confusing things that can happen in our youth. Even though his hometown of Jacksonville is a big city with over a million residents now, during his childhood it was several small communities surrounded by countryside. 

This is his story.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Move To Jacksonville
by Steven R. Hudson

When I was about four we moved to Jacksonville, FL. We settled into a small rental cottage on Lake Lucina in the Arlington area of Duval County. The cottage was owned by the Dickson family and I believe the road down to the lake is still called Dickson Road. There was a large pear tree in the yard and only a short walk to the lake which was surrounded by Cattails and alive with the trill calls of Red-wing Blackbirds that nested in the reeds. Sometimes Mom would fish at the lake for Bream which were really tasty when fried crisp in corn meal batter.

About this time Dad got a small black and white television. The screen was so small that we had to get very close to watch, but the cabinet it was mounted in was huge and the whole thing looked quite silly compared to the sleek flat screen TV's of today. It was a great deal for us however, as TV was the "new" thing and we were now on the cutting edge of the latest technology. There was only one channel available, WJXT Channel 4. It was our sole source of programming but that was fine with me. I remember lying on the floor in the afternoons, close to the tiny flickering screen watching the "Lone Ranger" battle it out with bad guys, Tonto at his side and his horse Silver carrying him into the western sunset after another victory for law and order. Next was "The Cisco Kid" and justice meted out with a Spanish accent. After supper, the local news with Bill Grove and then the National News on CBS with Douglas Edwards.

My first trip to the emergency room occurred when we lived here. Mom had caught some Bream in the lake and fried them up that evening for supper. Mom would always pull my fish apart before I ate to check for small bones but this time she missed one and the bone was stuck solidly in my throat. I began to cough and cry and I can still remember how uncomfortable and scared I was. Dad put me in the car and rushed me to the emergency room where the bone suddenly passed about the time we arrived. Crisis over. 

We lived in that cottage only a short time. Dad bought us our first house in a brand new subdivision called Center Park. We were now only seven miles from Jacksonville Beach, on the newly four-laned Beach Blvd and bordered on every side by thousands of acres of beautiful woodlands. There was a large creek that flowed north to south on one side of the area and crossed under Beach Blvd., disappearing into moss laden oaks that lined it's banks. There were many vacant lots that had not been built on and a huge stand of Cypress trees and Oaks, like a great wooded park, that stood square in the middle of the subdivision. I and the many new friends I would make here named this park, "Sherwood Forest". Moving here was the beginning of a great adventure and the golden years of my childhood.

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Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Teach No Other Doctrine

Teach No Other Doctrine

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society
Printer Friendly Version

In strong language the Apostle bids Timothy to “charge some that they teach no other doctrine”; no other doctrine, obviously, than that which he had taught them. In 1 Tim. 6:3-5 he closes his epistle by saying:

“If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ… from such withdraw thyself.”

In these passages the Apostle emphasizes the importance of fidelity to that heaven-sent message committed to him by revelation; that message which he says in Tit. 1:2,3 was “promised before the ages began” but made known “in due time … through preaching which is committed unto me…”

Ever since Paul’s day religious leaders have substituted other messages for that committed by the glorified Lord to Paul. The law of Moses, the Sermon on the Mount, the “great commission,” and Pentecost have all been confused with God’s message and program for the dispensation of grace. This is what has bewildered and divided the Church and ripened it for the apostasy.

With all the confused thinking about the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount fifty years ago it was little wonder that modernism swept so many off their feet with its teachings about Jesus of Nazareth, the Man of Galilee, following his footsteps, social betterment, political reform, etc. Multitudes were so taken up with the social gospel, so eager to help make the world a better place to live in, that they did not even notice or believe that the modernists denied the very fundamentals of the Christian faith.

But the new evangelicalism of our day is still more dangerous. It is big. It is well financed. It is popular. It is subtle. Perhaps its greatest danger lies in the fact that while claiming to be “conservative,” it minimizes the importance of the fundamentals and the danger of apostatizing from them.

Thus the inspired words of the Apostle Paul: “Charge some that they teach no other doctrine,” are more urgently needed in our day than they were in his.

---

To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:

"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."

To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

Ride Like The Wind #Honda

Hubby finally traded his 2006 Moto Guzzi Breva! He's had it For Sale for several weeks. Cycles of Jacksonville traded him for a 2013 Honda CB1100. He is very pleased with the outcome.

It's been a long but productive day. I'm really weary from the journey down to Jax and back. So, here's the day in pictures.

Preparing for the test ride.

Steve said he could tell this was the bike

for him after only traveling a few feet to

the curb.

Salesman Christian Stahl and Steve

seal the deal with a handshake.

Then, we where asked to ring

the bell behind them. That was

kinda cute.

 

Now we have a new metal steed

in the stables. Can't wait for a nice

day to take it for a long spin.

Guess I'm going to have to update the blog banner too.

I'll leave that for tomorrow.

 

Funny Friday ~ Falling Obama

A little guilty pleasure here. It's good therapy too.

By the way, got something special going on this weekend. I'll share it at a later time but stay tuned sports fans .... [hint: it involves two wheels ... duh] *lol*

Love Will Keep Us Together But Healthcare Could Drive Us Apart

One of my favorite soft rock groups from the 70s, The Captain and Tennille, have filed for divorce. But it seems they didn’t run out of Muskrat Love. The story is that “The Captain“, Daryl Dragon, is terminally ill with a neurological disorder (something similar to Parkinson‘s) which means he will be running up a huge medical bill. In order to keep their estate intact, he had to sign over everything to wife Toni, file for divorce, so that the government nor creditors can‘t seize his assets. Thankfully Toni will still be his Angel Face.

This reminds me how we had a neighbor that died from the complications of Parkinson’s disease not too long ago. In my opinion it’s one of the awful ways 'to go'. [Not that there is a good way, but I think you get my drift.] We watched him die an agonizing, slow, humiliating death. The Captain certainly has my prayers.

Hubby and I discussed financial possibilities at length after reading the article. He said one of us being stricken with a terminal illness could be a real possibly some day. It's something many people are forced into. Our bodies are going to corruption. Good thing for those of us who believe in Jesus, we are in God’s hands. Hopefully, we will never be faced with such a heart wrenching decision, but I can understand why The Captain and Tennille had to go this route. I would do everything I had to do to protect what little I have too.

What a sad world we live in. Guess I need to keep a song of joy in my heart. Well, at least their music will go on.

Pork Chops With Roasted Sweet Potatoes And Brussel Sprouts

We had this tonight. It's especially appetizing on a cold winter's eve. Enjoy!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ingredients:
2 Sweet Potatoes, peeled and diced small

1/2 lb Brussel Sprouts, washed and trimmed

4 Thick cut boneless Pork Chops

Salt and Pepper to taste

1 tsp Sage

Canola oil

1/2 cup Honey

1/4 cup Spicy Mustard

Directions:

Add some Canola oil to a large fry pan, add the small pieces of diced Sweet Potatoes and Brussel Sprouts, salt and pepper to taste and stir fry until they start to brown and tenderize.

Transfer the tenderized veggies to a mixing bowl, and a bit more Canola oil to the fry pan and brown the Pork Chops on one side.

Transfer the browned Chops to an oiled baking dish, browned side up and sprinkle the sage on the chops along with salt and pepper to taste.

Add the veggies to the baking dish.

Mix the Honey and Mustard in a bowl then pour over the mixture in the baking dish.

Bake at 375 for 35 minutes or until the Sweet Potatoes are tender to a fork.

Remove from oven and let set for 5 minutes.

Serves 4

For My Friends Up North #PolarVortex

I hear there's more polar blast predicted for the Northeast.

Non Sequitur

 [hee hee hee]

But, seriously, stay safe up there folks.

The Beginning: Memories Of Fort Pierce

Monday's I plan to feature a guest writer, my husband. He has been painstakingly writing down the stories of his childhood to share them with his 9 year old niece. I wanted her to know what kind of childhood her beloved Uncle was able to enjoy. While enjoying them myself I thought these are so much fun to read, why not share them? So here are the short missives of his memories of growing up in wilds of Florida during the 1950's and 1960's. They're packed with misadventures, romance, and all the confusing things that can happen in our youth. Even though his hometown of Jacksonville is a big city with over a million residents now, during his childhood it was several small communities surrounded by countryside. 

This is his story.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Memories of Fort Pierce

by Steven R. Hudson

The following stories are a collection of memories that I have been encouraged to put into writing by those who love me despite my many faults. Even though my life has not been one marked by great deeds or accomplishments, perhaps it will be a picture of life as it was many years ago before cell phones and video games. When children ran barefoot and innocent along forest paths and creek banks. 

One of my earliest recollections is staying with my maternal grandmother. She and my mother's stepfather lived on Angle Road in Ft. Pierce, Florida, in an area that was at that time, typical

south Florida pine woods. Grandma "Cootie" as she was known by me and my cousins kept chickens and turkeys for meat and eggs, had a concrete goldfish pond in front of the house and a yard full of Chihuahua dogs. I was 2 to 3 years old at this time and the fish pond was a source of great wonder for me. Perhaps it was the fluid movements of the goldfish that brought out a hunter instinct of a sort. I needed to find a sharp stick and spear one of these golden colored wonders. Stick found, I went after my prey and actually managed to spear one of grandma's prized goldfish. Grandma, however, was not amused by what I had done and I was punished with a good and proper "switching" with my own fish spear. This punishment may seem harsh by today's standards but the "switch" was a common type of discipline in those times and was an effective way to discourage wrongful acts. 

Grandma Cootie was a strict but very loving lady. She adored her grandchildren and would walk through fire to protect her family, displaying a fearlessness that belied her small 4' 10" stature. One day I was helping her gather eggs in the poultry yard and was attacked by a big tom turkey that managed to spur me good before grandma was able to get the bird away from me. After checking to see that I was not badly hurt, she retrieved a hatchet and promptly killed the turkey then dressed it. Later we all had a nice roast turkey dinner, compliments of the old belligerent bird.

Our family has always been a family of fishermen mostly out of necessity back then. Fresh fish was often on the evening menu and was the staple of most people of moderate means. We ate Snapper, Sea Trout, Croaker, Red Fish, Flounder and our favorite, Snook. Fish were abundant then. The river and creek banks were covered with Sea Grapes and Mangroves instead of condos and expensive houses like today. Fishing was as easy as driving down to the river bank and throwing out a baited hook. A fishing license was not needed and there were no size or number limits on the fish you caught. We never caught more fish than we needed, just enough for supper, served up with homemade hush puppies and cheese grits. We ate like royalty and did not even realize we were rich beyond measure. I can still see a picture in my mind of one of the fishing spots we went to then. I remember a beautiful tidal creek and a muddy bank at the water's edge covered with the holes of Fiddler Crabs. Spider-like roots of Mangroves formed a barrier on each side of the creek bank and you could see schools of Mullet cruising the shallow water. It was a splendid place.

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Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Small Change And A Free Gift

Small Change and a Free Gift

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society
Printer Friendly Version

Has the cashier at the restaurant or the check-out girl at the supermart been asking you: “Do you have the two cents?” or “You don’t have the change, do you?” If so, it’s because there is a coin shortage all over the U.S. and will be for some time.

All kinds of coin-using machines have created a shortage of coins for other purposes. Isn’t it strange: a penny is hardly worth picking up these days, and President Eisenhower called our dollars “dollarettes,” yet people seem to be spending more money in small amounts.

You can make more and more purchases with coins these days. Some people say that you can buy anything with money, but they’re wrong — very wrong.
The things we need most cannot be bought with any amount of money. The air we breathe, the water we drink (we pay only for the service), love of family and friends. These things can’t be bought. And the most precious treasure of all: salvation, eternal life, can’t be bought at any price.

God doesn’t want our money. He calls it “filthy lucre.” He’s not going into business, selling houses and lots in heaven, much less will He pervert justice and pronounce us innocent for a consideration. But He does pity and love us and He can and will give us eternal life if we trust in the merits of the One who died to pay the penalty for our sins.

“The gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 6:23).

“For by grace are ye saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8).

Our Lord said to the Samaritan woman:

“If thou knewest the gift of God … thou wouldest have asked …” (John 4:10).

Have you asked?

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To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:

"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."

To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

 

Cousins By The Dozens

This is just, I think, an interesting little tidbit. I promised to tie in the journey to find my roots, and how it also involves, albeit in a small way, the quest for a life in the country and how I ended up in Georgia.

Dad was always in a hurry "to make good time" [whatever that is] when we traveled. Being a kid, I desired to linger in the beautiful woods that went whizzing past the car windows. On one trip home from western Pennsylvania (early 1960's and pre-Interstate), I have a vague memory of begging Dad to stop in Georgia. I wanted to touch some of that lovely red clay that lined the roadsides in my hands. Red clay was fascinating to a Central Florida girl who grew up with thickets of flat scrub pines, palmettos and sugar sand. Most of the time, he would just shout he was in a hurry. But this time he stopped at a clay embankment, scooped up the clay putting it into a bag, then slung it at me in the car. "Here!" he mumbled, as he mashed the pedal of the Chevy and it heaved itself down the road. I was so pleased to have that silly clay! I kept it for a long, long time. From the very start, something drew me to the Georgia countryside. Was it the natural beauty or was it something deeper?

Back to the Big Land Hunt: we just couldn’t find anything suitable in Florida in our price range. I suggested to my ever patient, understanding husband about venturing further North into southeast Georgia. The siren call of the red clay was still there, little did I know why.

After finding the maternal side of my birth family, we settled into the time consuming part of getting to know each other. That went over fairly well for

people who are basically strangers. We had so little in common, though. Even with satisfying my curiosity about my birth-mother, I still felt empty, disconnected, and left with a hunger to learn more about my family. I still wanted something that would help me feel like I too belonged on this planet and had a purpose. So, I resolved that I would go further back in the family tree.

In the interim, we had moved to our current location in southeast Georgia, in the Spring of 1993. By that time the Internet for public use was coming into it’s own. For us country mice, it was dial-up and very slow, but it almost always worked. Communications where opened up between history researchers. FamilyTreeMaker software for home use premiered. Many Courthouses and Genealogists now had their public info on-line. All this made researching for the Financially Impaired so much easier. I took up the reins of research with the greatest of ease. To aid in the search I ordered the customary Marriage Licenses, Birth and Death Certificates, visited courthouses for documents with my family‘s name on it. Photographed cemetery tombstones hoping for connections. From one of the documents I had ordered I learn my grandmother, Bessie Moore, first wife of George Baxter McMahan and mother to my birth-mother, Marian Estelle "Mary" McMahan, was born in Axson (Atkinson County), Georgia before her parents moved to Florida during the first Great Depression. “Oh, my goodness”, I thought, “I’ll never find her parents, let alone her grandparents. She might as well have been a Smith!” Oh ye of little faith! I was worried over nothing. Thanks to Folks Huxford and his Pioneers of Wiregrass Georgia books, to whom many of us owe much, and his cursory research of the Moore Family in Clinch and surrounding countries, I made all kinds of connections. It was so exciting to find more of my blood kin. At that point I at least had a basic outline of Who's Who in part of my Family Tree. And the further I dug into the research, I was shocked because I had moved into an area where I must be related to a good three quarters of the population. I belonged here! I had truly moved HOME.

So not only had God “adopted“ me spiritually when I first believed in Him, but in His wisdom He gave me more family than I can shake a stick at. He knew I needed this physical connection. It satisfied the deep seated yearning for an association to something or someone deep in my soul. It has brought me comfort and peace that I never had growing up. My Lord is indeed forevermore loving and kind to even the least of His servants. Thank you Lord!

But even there, the story does not end. All the information I had gleaned up to that point was relatively easy compared to how I later found my birth-father from a woman whom was deceased, that I never met, that didn't tell her sisters nor was his name on any of my adoption documents. (I know because I had the records opened by court order.) That story is a novelette from which I will spare my readers. [smile]

The Lesson? Life can take a lot of twists and turns but when we trust Jesus, He will indeed take care of us "exceedingly and abundantly above all we can ask or think" [Ephesians 3:20-21]. He truly will carry us Home whatever that "home" is that we all need. Just be sure you enjoy curvy roads.

Georgia On My Mind

In the past when people would ask me where I am from, I would temporarily go blank. A fragmented, unhappy childhood had left me like a blank slate. Like an orphan tossed on the seas of life, it seems that I had always yearrned for a place I could call Home. My official Home Town never felt like home, so, where did I come from? Where did I belong? I longed, deeply, to find a place to call my own.

Descendants of German immigrants, my adopted parents where born and raised on farms in western Pennsylvania during The Great Depression. They

married and moved to a small town in Central Florida as a young couple in the early 1950's.  Apparently, Mom could not bare children but I've never learned why. After six years of being on the adoption list, they found an underaged young lady "in trouble" and adopted yours truly. When I was a wee tot, on the rare occasions we traveled to their native Pennsylvania, they would take the time to visit old friends or family still living on farms. I fell in love with the countryside right then and there. I felt a kinship with the trees, the wildlife, the smells, the gentle sounds, the clean air and most of all, the solitude. Even the small town was already beginning to be too much for me. I wanted to enjoy the night stars without the light pollution. I yearned to hear the crickets singing and chase fireflies from a back porch.

Psalms 27:10 "When my father and my mother forsake me, Then the Lord will take me up."

What I share next is not to illicit sympathy but to lay the ground work for this story explaining the reason for my feeling so disconnected. Very rarely do I dwell on this small part of my life. These are only shadows and ghosts of the past. I've given it to God and He has lovingly hidden the hurt away.

I think I was fairly happy as a small child before my mother died in 1966, I don't remember. All I do remember is losing the only mother I'd ever known

that sweltering August day. After the funeral Dad made it abundantly clear he didn’t want me around anymore. It turned my already fragile world upside down. My earliest memory is her funeral with Dad telling me to “Shut up, what do you care?! You’re only adopted anyway.” Yeah, he said that to a grieving 10 year old child. I felt like someone had reached into my chest and stopped my heart from beating. Dad was keen on yelling curse words, snapping belittling remarks (his favorite were I was a bastard, and how stupid I was), open hand slap any body part too close to him, or glare at me for seemingly no reason. I started running away. My grades where failing. I became a bit of a day dreamer. The school psychiatrist was as much help as breasts on a boar hog. Two step-mothers later, things where a little improved. At least the last one was a Christian and wasn't abusive. We had our differences, but still she had a good heart. When I was 14 I gave my heart to Christ in a little non-denominational church. Kneeling at the cross (emotionally) I knew I was a sinner, unworthy of His forgiveness but told Him I believed in Him and to do with me as He will. At least I knew He would never leave me! He gave me the strength to go on. His guidance gave me the fortitude to buckle down, get a good education and get the heck out of Dodge as soon as it was legal. When I turned 18 it was made clear I was no longer welcome in that house. No home there! Frightened and with no confidence in my abilities, I married the first man that asked and in the infamous words of Jimmy Buffett “it cost me much more than a ring“. My first husband wasn’t a bad guy but we where definitely mismatched. He wasn't my 'home' either. Thankfully, we parted on amicable terms without too much damage done.

After all that, my current hubby and I met, then tied the knot. Thankfully, he shared my vision of living in the country. It was going to be a difficult task

since we where living in the Big City, in a State where property was expensive and we are not people of means. Thankfully, by now it was the '80s and times where good. With good jobs and lots of prospects for improvement we worked hard for 18 years. It was exciting to dream and plan. However, even though there can be lots of money to be made in a metropolis, a city setting is emotionally crushing to me. I felt stifled, fought a lot of airborn illnesses, and the stress of living so close to others kept my nerves on edge. I fought the crushing sadness that seemed to follow me like a black cloud. 

In 1981, I was working for a gentleman who was also adopted. He urged me to begin searching for my birth parents. Through his assistance, I managed to learn who my birth-mother was. After many phones calls, letters and false starts I had located her within a few weeks. (Again, God's mercy!) Regrettably, though, I was about 18 months too late to speak to my birth-mother as she had died in a traffic accident not far from where I was then living. But I did manage to make contact with a half sister, two half brothers, several aunts, an uncle and my grandfather. It was a rich and rewarding experience. Trust me, like all things great and small in our lives, this ties in. 

For years we continued the search for land. We wanted that perfect location

where it would be our forever home. On weekends when we weren’t repairing our 1952 Florida home, or out in the woods, we where looking at land. Dreaming about land. Praying for land! I think I exhausted every place in Florida I could think of. Then, I got the notion to start looking in southeast Georgia. One Saturday, after a, what I thought, wasted trip to Reidsville, Georgia, to look at more land for sale, we passed a sign on Highway 121 for a local realtor in Blackshear. It was late so I wrote the number down (this was pre-cell phones, after all) and after driving home, made an appointment for the next weekend to look at property. Short story long [smile], the nice young lady took us city folks all around this postage stamp sized county. It seemed every place I looked at it was “still too close to town”. I guess she couldn't believe that we would want to live so far out. Several available properties later, she finally believed me, and took us out to this place. 

Leviticus 25:23 "The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine. For you are strangers and sojourners with me."

It’s no kidding, as soon as I stepped out of her car, and my foot hit the property, with the towering oaks and pines, the inviting quiet, the simple country road, I knew this was it! My heart sang with joy! Hubby and I prayed for success. God mercifully opened the doors for the loan to go through without a hitch. Then we started down the long, curvy road of making this our permanent residence. It would take almost 8 more years of scrimping and saving but we where finally on the way Home. 

The Pink Cast Away

I didn’t want to get out of bed today. The ongoing cold, damp weather and

concern over our little niece, had me emotionally hamstrung. I didn’t want to move. What happened? Well, Amberlee fell off her Razor Scooter this weekend and, we think, broke her elbow and/or wrist. She was rushed to the Hospital (had a 2 hour wait!!) and all they could do was give her painkillers. Poor dear has been in mind numbing pain all weekend. This afternoon her parents managed to get into to see a Pediatric Orthopedic and he gave her this “cool pink cast”. (Her words) *lol*

This morning, Hubby said, “Let’s get up lazy bones and have a warm breakfast. Then drive on into Blackshear to get a few items.” I didn’t want to go but I did anyway. Now I’m glad I did. At the grocery store I got the notion to take the steel steeds out for a spin. The weather is very pretty today (temp of about 65 degrees), sun is shining, with a light wind. It’s a little hazy but that’s kinda nice on a bike. Less glare that way. But I see where there's more rain approaching.

*sigh*

We did a Turn and Burn to Baxley, stopping for lunch at our favorite Chinese restaurant.

Now I’m in a happy mood!

Here’s a little joke for you I found at Carol B.’s blog (carolsdailylifeandstuff.blogspot.com):

Now that I'm old(er), I've discovered a few things:
ONE- I started out with nothing, and I still have most of it.
TWO- My wild oats have turned into prunes and All Bran.
THREE- I finally got my head together; now my body is falling apart.
FOUR- Funny, I don't remember being absent minded.
FIVE- All reports are in; life is now officially unfair.
SIX- If all is not lost, where is it?
SEVEN- It is easier to get older than it is to get wiser.
EIGHT- Some days you're the dog; some days you're the hydrant.
NINE- I wish the buck stopped here; I sure could use a few...
TEN- Kids in the back seat cause accidents.
ELEVEN- Accidents in the back seat cause ... kids.
TWELVE- It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere.
THIRTEEN- Only time the world beats a path to your door is when you're in the bathroom.
FOURTEEN- If God wanted me to touch my toes, he would have put them on my knees.
FIFTEEN- When I'm finally holding all the cards, why does everyone decide to play chess?
SIXTEEN- It's not hard to meet expenses ... they're everywhere.
SEVENTEEN- The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.
EIGHTEEN- These days, I spend a lot of time thinking about the hereafter ... I go somewhere to get something and then wonder what I'm here after.

Y'all stay safe and warm out there.