Rapture Ready (No Matter When it is)

 If you keep up with the blog you know I'm a follower of Christ, and a Believer in His soon return. That being said, there are other Believers who don't think the Rapture will happen before the Tribulation period. If you aren't familiar with either of those terms, "Rapture" or "Tribulation", you may find yourself at a loss while reading, but I'll try to go into a bit of detail without changing the context of the titled blog.  Being Rapture Ready means you are someone who looks forward to the event known as the Rapture. The Rapture is a very specific event, not something that will happen over and over again. It is a defining event, in that once it does happen there will be no turning back, and all time stops for those who are "raptured".  We, the Believers, will be literally stripped from the Earth and in the space of less than a nano-second, our corruptible human bodies will be instantaneously changed to that of an immortal body. We will not stay on this Earth but will be taken (snatched away, in Greek, the word is "harpazo", meaning taken by swift force.)  It has never happened, and it will never happen again.  Some say there will be another Rapture after the Seven-Year Tribulation; it will be for those who become Christians during the 7-year Tribulation. That event will likely take place either at the time or just after the Second Coming of Christ. Wow...I just realized I may have to explain the Second Coming as well.

    OK, quick and easy one-minute explanation of the End Times Events.

• Rapture of the Church (or Believers) as well as all children and all simple-minded folks, is the snatching away of those who are saved, born again, looking for Christ's return. The good news is, even if you're not looking for His return, but you are saved, you will go up in the Rapture. It happens very very fast, and no one knows exactly when it is. It is believed by many that it will take place at or near the time of the Feast of Trumpets because of the trumpet references and the other Jewish wedding clues and innuendo that surround the Feast of Trumpets, which is also known as Rosh Hashana, the Head of the Year. This year those days are Saturday and Sunday, Sept. 24-25, 2022, but it could bleed into Monday if the New Moon is slow in showing the sliver of waxing, which has to take place before the official start of the Year.

• Seven-Year Tribulation Period. As the name denotes, it is a 7-year period of time following the Rapture but is NOT triggered by the Rapture. It is triggered by the signing of an agreement between Israel and "many". That could also be a confirmation rather than a new agreement. Could have something to do with the Abraham Accords.  The Tribulation is a time on Earth that will start out really badly due to the disappearance of literally thousands of millions of Believers, and all children and simple minded people.  The Triublation will be incredibly difficult, horrific, terrifying, and dangerous for anyone really, but more so for those who become Christians after the Rapture because there will be a time shortly following the Rapture when the world leaders will force people to take a literal MARK, or tattoo, bio-science marker, to keep track of them. This is already starting, and the vaccines were a dry run to see who would push back.  Most of us who were pushing back are Believers, and we'll be gone! It won't be hard for those in charge to take over by governing food, water, and such; only giving the rights to buy and sell to those who take their mark. Many will die because they refuse. REFUSE!! If you find yourself here after the Rapture, REFUSE the Mark. If you take it you are transforming yourself from human to transhuman and you cannot be saved by Grace at that time. ONLY HUMANS can be.

• Second Coming: Jesus, the same Messiah who took the Believers, will spend the 7 years with us in Heaven, before returning to Earth. He will LITERALLY tough down (foot planted) on the Mt. of Olives in Jerusalem. When He does that there will be an enormous Earth Quake. Every knee will bow. Every tongue will confess. Every mind will know that HE IS THE RISEN KING. There will be no doubt whatsoever, so if you're planning on escaping the Tribulation and continuing your life as you see fit, it will not happen.  The Believers will be with Christ when He returns. We will govern, we will lead, teach, and instruct. We will help Him rebuild His kingdom, and He will reign for 1000 years before ending time altogether. 

Many people get the Rapture and the Second Coming mixed up, or they think they are the same thing. They are not. No one knows when the Rapture will happen, but nothing has to happen before it does. We are so close to it, and if you are a Believer, and you're reading your Bible, you'll see that every last prophecy that needs to take place has and is taking place. There is NOTHING left to happen, not even earthquakes in diverse places. This past week alone we've seen an uptick in larger quakes in diverse areas. This is really looking like a good year for the Rapture. I really hope it is. Now, I'm not dogmatic about the timing. I can't know, I don't know, but I do listen and learn from men and women who spend and have spent their entire adult lives studying the specific clues.  Many good scholars believe the Feast of Trumpets is the fulfillment of the Rapture.

    

    With the passing of the Queen, an entirely new era has been ushered in, and there is no doubt it will not be the same as it was.  With the new Prime Minister in the UK, the 5th election for a Prime Minister in Israel, the destabilization of the Middle East, and so many other direct Bible references to what the world will look like at the time of the End (See Matthew 24 for context), we are looking at a great and marvelous collision of events and timing. If it is not this year, it is certainly very very close, and I can't stop hoping that it will be even earlier than Sunday! I want to go HOME!

    I still don't know what we're going to do when we get to Heaven. We'll be there, in our new bodies, without pain, death, decay, corruption, sin, or anything negative. If our beloved family or friends aren't there, I'm not sure we'll even be aware of it. I'm not sure we'll have any recollection of what our Earthly jobs were, who we worked with, hung out with, were married to, and gave birth to. It's all very new. We'll not be the same age as we were when we died if we died on Earth. We'll be something new and different. We'll be ageless. The Bible says we'll be known, and recognized, but it says nothing about what it is that we'll actually be doing other than celebrating and preparing for the wedding and wedding feast. I really don't think that's going to take more than a few weeks. What will we do for the rest of the seven years? I hope we just get to roam the place, meet up with folks, listen, sing, learn, and converse with Jesus! I know we'll be learning to ride horses if we don't know how to do that because we come back to Earth with Christ on horses. No cars, people!! I love that.

    

    When I think of the things that won't be in Heaven I am immediately caught up in thinking that there will be no hospitals, police stations, fire stations, clinics, dog or cat rescues, children's homes, orphanages, nursing homes, hospice, and no jails or infirmaries of any type.  There will be coffee! You know there will be coffee shops! We can get it to go while we walk the streets and try and name the animals we haven't ever seen before and collect as many flowers and cute little bugs that don't bite or cause you any discomfort.  The Bible says there are "mansions" but the translation could be "rooms" or "dwellings".  We will have our own, but we can no doubt share if we want to.  Did my Daddy go to Heaven early so he could put in my new kitchen cabinets and do all the beautiful trim work? Maybe! 

    

    Actually, the truth is, we aren't in our new bodies yet if we die on Earth before the Rapture. When our loved ones die we say they are in a better place, and they are but they are not yet, in physical form. Not one soul who has passed has been given their new form yet. We'll all be given those wonderful and incorruptible bodies at the time of the Rapture, at the last trumpet! That doesn't mean it will be on the Feast of Trumpets. The seven festivals of Israel are in fact for Israel.  Jesus can come at any moment, and He will come at the right time, not a second before. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that Christ must or will come back on Rosh Hashana. He is coming for the Church, not the nation of Israel. 

    Whenever the Rapture comes, be it this weekend or another day, it will be a one-time event, never to happen again. You'll want to be a part of it.  If you are a part of it, you will live eternally with Christ in an incorruptible body and do really amazing and wonderful things for the rest of all non-time, which is why it's called eternity.  If you are NOT in the Rapture and you find yourself here on Earth after it happens, DO NOT TAKE THEIR MARK for any reason. Die first. I know that sounds really horrible, but if you do take it you are damned to an eternity without Christ and you will literally be sent to a real firey burning hell that really does exist, and I wouldn't want that for anyone; not even the worst of the worst. I would prefer that people simply don't exist but God has been very very clear on the matter(s). You have a choice. You have free will. It really is UP TO YOU to decide if you'll follow Christ or not. No one else can do it for you.

    Well, that's about it. Rapture Ready! I'm ret-ta-go!  I don't want to be on this Earth another day if it means I get to go see Jesus!  Eternity is just about long enough. I am truly looking forward to that; time stops, and we live. Joy! Have you ever been sitting around and thinking to yourself that you really do exist? This really is happening right now? I can't imagine how very cool it will be to be up in Heaven laying back against an ancient tree, looking over the many moons and planets that will be circling, coming and going, and just trying to figure out how that orca stays afloat out of water.  I may just have to get up and ask it. Ride it. Laugh! Carry on!

    Be blessed.  Seriously, if you don't know Jesus today is the DAY to find Him. You can Google the Roman Road, but I'll put a link here for you too. It's a really simple way to (1) realize you are a sinner and in need of Jesus (2) acknowledge that the wages for your sin is death without Christ (3) believe that He is the risen Son of God, and (4) confess your sin, asking Him to be your God, your King. He is faithful, and He promised that anyone ANYONE who asks shall be saved. ANYONE. No matter how bad you think you've been, Jesus has saved someone worse than you! 

The Roman Road.  What are the Scriptures in the Roman road?

• All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God ( Romans 3:23 ).
• The wages of sin is[eternal]death ( Romans 6:23 ).
• The free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord ( Romans 6:23 b).
• Confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead ( Romans 10:9 ).

Photo Credit: DoctorAfrica.com

Rude People. They are Everywhere.

 You really can't escape the base and low character(s) of some people. They just pop up no matter where you go, no matter what you comment. You could comment on something about kilts and they'll turn the damn thing around and make it about themselves by trying to create havoc about you. I call these people small, and they are. It's unfortunate that you have to deal with them. I suppose they can type, so they feel the need to get on social media and cause trouble. If I had to guess I'd bet they're either drunk or so high they can't remember if they actually overdid it, or they needed to take their medication. Whatever the reason, they just feel the need to needle and pester good people for no reason other than to take their own self-hate for a vacation. Cutting you down relieves them of their pitiful existence for a minute. 

    Why do I even bother commenting on sites when I know there is a chance for one of these (or more) idiots to jump on and give their opinion?  In most cases they haven't thought out any argument, they just like to argue for the sake of doing so. I could comment that the sky is a lovely shade of blue, and these jobbies would come on board to say it was green and everyone knew it. Well, I've decided to be my best, and let them stew in their own filthy-mouthed and incredibly base ways. Time will prove again that they can't sustain their stupor and they'll end up pissing on themselves in the gutters again; they can't help themselves, and worse, they won't help themselves when offered some assistance. I've tried. I'm not going to beg someone to stop self-harming. They need to realize they are actually worth so much more than they are letting themselves believe.

    I wrote a blog about an individual who is really very talented, and quite unique. I posted it. Suddenly, out of the blue, and again for no reason other than to make an ass of herself, a woman from Scotland decides to accuse me of stalking the man. Stalking? No, the word is "promoting" or you might use the word "admire" but to say someone is stalking has a connotation that could lead to legal action. People who are as base as this woman really should return to reading books, educating themselves on how to adjust and live in a civil society. Slander is a real thing. Her posting my post only assisted my numbers, so thank you! She needs to have her clocks cleaned, but I'm not in that business. I'll leave that to someone in her neck of the woods. She'll piss someone off soon enough to the point that they teach her what happens to the overly rude.

    The Bible was very clear about her and the demons like her. It states that in the end times we'll see more of it, have to deal with more of it, and have to put up with more of it. OK. That actually makes sense. Satan knows his time is short. He's unleashing the dogs; pigs really. It's time to buckle down, show your true light(s) and be the star you're meant to be. Let the turkeys fly. Eagles soar! The view is pretty good from where I am. I don't have to scrape the bottom of the pond for new thoughts. I should pray for her, and when I can I will. Right now I just want her and others to know they are seen, they are heard, but no one really cares enough to bother with them. I should though. I should pray she changes; it's just that there are so many like her and when one goes away the others come out to play. You can't go anywhere, say anything, have an opinion, or make a statement without them putting in their two cents, and doing so inappropriately. 

    Maranatha! The Rapture is the only thing that will separate us from this sort of trash, but again, my heart needs to be broken for them. When I can, I will. I don't want to lie and pretend I care at this moment when I honestly think they may be possessed, and I'm not really qualified to exercise a demon.  I'll pray and ask God to send someone stronger than myself to do that. We all have our gifts, and that is not one of mine. God isn't finished with me yet. Who knows. 

Photo Credit: Turbosquid.com

Coffee, Oh Coffee!

 Since I was about two years old I have been drinking coffee on a regular basis. I say regular, but when I was a toddler I had to wait until my mom stepped away from her coffee in order to scavage the last bits of it. She knew I was coming for it, so she'd add a dash of milk. Mom drinks her coffee black.  When my grandmother found out I was going around stealing sips from everyone's coffee she put tobacco in the last drops she had left in her cup to try and detour me.  The joke was on her! I nearly died from the spice being too aggressive as I chugged her cup's last; about six uncles and aunts unleashed themselves onto my poor granny, but all I remember is my aunt screaming at me to continue breathing! Good memories! Family fun! Watch the baby gag! She'll be fine.  Usually, you could say "Rub some dirt on it" but this was a case of granny grabbing me away from my aunt and apologizing to me, rocking me in her arms, and saying she'll never do that again! (For that, I was ever so thankful)

    I don't think I picked up the whole coffee "habit" until I was about 18 and working in Hollywood.  I drank whatever was left over in the pot as long as I had copious amounts of cream to put in it. I never cottoned to milk in my coffee. Cream I can handle.  At 18 I had graduated and had already worked for a couple of studios in Hollywood as a driver, an assistant to an assistant, as well as writing bits and pieces for dramas and sitcoms. Believe it or not, the writers in the 80's really did come up to the nobodies and ask their opinion. We weren't "paid" per se, but we were taken care of. We were given tickets to things or allowed to sit in during filming, and what not. I worked for James Garner, yes, THE James Garner, and he taught me how to drink coffee like a pro!

    Being from Oklahoma, both of us, enjoyed talking about the Sooner State and the things we grew up with that may or may not be the same or similar to what all those "Hollywood types", as Jim called them, had to put up with.  We Okies had it pretty good. We rode horses, drank fresh milk, and found fruit alongside the road and/or in someone's garden or yard. We could hitchhike and not worry about anything bad happening. We could catch a ride on a combine if we needed to; but even in those days, the big combines driving down the road blocking all the traffic would have a cup holder in the cab! In those cup holders were cups of coffee and usually served black. I don't get that, I never will.  Why do that to yourself? You should love yourself enough to bring the cream and sugar if you want it. I don't really like it that sweet, but yeah, I'm doing the creamer -- even if it's dry powdered crap, I'm not drinking the dredge black. 

    Jim and I would have at least a full pot before 6:00 a.m. and then another before 8:00 and another before noon.  We shut it off around 3:00 and drank whatever was left over; Jim would say we used a spoon to dig it out of the pot so we could drink it. He'd fight you for it! I was pretty much done by noon.  This was before Starbucks came along. I think they had them, Starbucks was probably up in Seattle at that time, but the world was not revolving around lattes and espresso drinks in 1979-82. We were good with our pots of drip coffee, and all of us knew how to make it using a tin can if we needed to. Not one of us was foo-foo enough to try foam or anything silly in our coffee back in those days. I just can't bring myself to even pretend to see James Garner ordering a Grande Caramel Macchiato! Wow. I just made myself laugh.

    When I went on the World Tour with Faith, and we were often up at 4:00 a.m. and in flight by 6:00 a.m. going somewhere cool, I remember being very grateful for the Starbucks that opened early or stayed open 24/7.  That was when I was drinking Four-shot capp with extra foam always in a Grande cup.  Damn. Those were the days. I think I'd die today if I tried that. Faith would lick the cup and sometimes I'd go ahead and get her a tall cup with either foam or whipped cream; whatever was available. She liked to be part of the drinking party you know!  Many of the Starbucks locations in Hollywood, Ventura, and other local cities now, have actor and director sightings all the time. You can literally sit outside and watch the beautiful people go in for a morning jolt. 

    One morning, I think it was back in 2008, but I'm not sure. I sat outside the Starbucks in L.A. at the corner of Ventura and something, where the Sportsman's Lodge is, and I watched so many would-be and already famous faces walk into the restaurant to get their morning fix. As I sat and watched there were others who would walk up shyly and ask these people for their autographs, or if they could have their photos taken with them. Time after time they were turned away. Seriously, and it wasn't always nice either.  Well, I thought I had had enough. I stood up and announced that Faith the Dog was in the house, and she would allow anyone to come to see her, to pet her, to talk to her, to take photos, and if she was willing and they were willing, she may even give them a big kiss on the mouth!  Talk about chaos!  The FAMOUS people were trying to move others out of the way so they could get there first -- you know how that went.  NOPE!

    Faith was a magnet for attention, that's for sure. As I drink my coffee now, and I think about the times I have sat outside or inside one of these restaurants in one of these cities, watching and waiting to see more soldiers or children in hospitals, I think Faith would be so proud of the way I've learned to drink my coffee without making a scene! She wasn't shy or anything, but she was absolutely exhausted by the time everyone in the store, outside the store, coming up to the store, or thinking about going to the store, had finished loving on her.  She was the best at it, I have to admit that. She never turned a single person away, not once.  (Faith, by this time, had been on over 110 tv broadcasts around the world, she had been on Oprah, Nova, and Discovery, been on the front cover of over 100 magazines, and she had visited more than 1,000,000 soldiers at home and abroad. (Not always American) She was in her own right, a celebrity. Eat your heart out Lassie!

    Today, I won't make a cup of coffee without thinking of my sweet puppy. We (together) went to more than 800 different Starbucks stores. I collected their business cards for years. I'm really not a fan anymore, but I can't not remember the times we had, and the gracious hosts and baristas! I'm not going to say I'd give anything to do it again, because I know I'll do it for eternity. That dog got to Heaven before me, and she's getting all the tourists out of the way so when I get there we'll have time to be together - - if I can pry her out of my dad's sweet hands. That may be a feat in and of itself.  I know there's going to be coffee in Heaven too, no doubt. It's a perfect drink, and there's nothing about Heaven that isn't perfect. I'm rather interested to see if Jim has even tried anything other than his black sludge as he referred to it. He let me make the coffee as long as I filled the filter up to the top! (Psst...even then we didn't drink Folgers!  Jim knew. Life is too short to drink bad cheap coffee.)

Photo Credit: Me

This is Faith with my daughter Caity. 

    

    

God Always Provides.

 I can't tell you how many times I've been to "the wire" as I call it. I call it that because it feels like I'm walking a tightrope at times when it comes to being able to make my bills. It's not that way right now, but in the past, I have really had to deal with issues and decisions about whether I would pay this bill or that bill. I usually paid the one that had the cut-off notice! To be honest with you, sometimes it was simply a matter of rolling the dice and hoping nothing bad happened.  Then again, if I had actually been a professional gambler maybe I would never have been in those situations? We'll never know.

    If you follow me, or if you're new to my blog, you'll need to know that I was only about five and a half years old when I decided to become a Christian. It was a big-person thing, I knew that but I also knew that I could die and if I did die I wanted to go to Heaven. Now, we all know, or should know, that all children who are under the age of actual accountability, when they know true right from wrong, and can determine for themselves the real consequences, all go to heaven. Every last one of them.  At five and a half, I had been in and out of the hospital a few times with lung issues and I knew I could die. I asked Jesus to be there and to hold me and to keep me. I told Him if I did die I wanted to go to Heaven and I believe He accepted my plea. I believe I was fully saved at that age, but when I did become older, more mature you know, around the age of 12, I asked Him to do it again -- just to be safe! (You can't see me laughing, but I am)

    Well, today was a very special day for me. I have, over the past several years really, been through job after job, not career path after career path, but just job after job waiting and hoping to find a true career path. I've sold insurance, been an investigator, worked claims, and been a consultant, but all the while I've not been hired full-time and permanently by someone who would support me in the career I wanted which was Securities. I've wanted to be in trading for over 30 years, but the timing was just not there. I couldn't break from the kids to learn, I wouldn't expect at that time, for a company to train me and not expect me to stay later or work early. I just couldn't do it. Then I got stuck behind the 8-ball as it were, and really couldn't get out from under my other financial obligations. It looked as if being a trader in the Securities industry was just a pipe-dream.

    I began praying about it and asking God if He wanted me in the industry. It's a hard thing to break into, and more men are traders than women by a long shot! I have a really strong personality, I'm also quite confident and educated, and I am really disciplined. I believe I could be a great trader.  I also know that I would have to work my way into it, so I began studying the steps and planning the method it would take to make the pipe dream a reality. It needed to be a step-by-step process if it was going to happen. These things do not happen overnight. I don't care what Hollywood tries to tell us, we can't simply start out on the trading floor without first knowing so so very much. I started the process of learning the basics about two years ago.

    Over time I studied and passed the SIE (Securities Industry Essentials) exam for FINRA.  FINRA is the governing agency that is fully in charge of all things Securities in the United States. It's not easy to get on with them in the first place. I couldn't even qualify to take the SIE for years due to a personal setback that led to bankruptcy in 2005.  YEARS would have to pass before I could apply again just to take the SIE exam. I was accepted. I studied, I took the test, and I failed.  I tested again, and I passed.  The SIE exam is not, I repeat NOT, an easy thing to pass. I think it took right at 8 months of self-study on that exam alone. 

    Because you don't need a sponsor to take either the SIE and/or the Series 66 exam, I have attempted both. I have failed both. I failed the Series 66 last spring literally by one question! I would rather have bombed the test than to only miss by one, but it is what it is, and I'll study and take it again soon.  I hope the Series 7 is easier. I really do.  You do have to be sponsored by an agency or company to take the Series 7. I don't agree with that, but it is the way that it is, and luckily (or Jesus) I am going to be doing that very very soon. YEA!

    The reason today is so really cool and wonderful is, that I was finally (after YEARS) hired by a professional trading firm and I will be sponsored and even trained to be a trader down the road. I'm going to purposely wait and work my way slowly to the position so I am best trained and given the best opportunities to do the right thing(s) and make the right choices for my clients and for myself. I'll trade on my own, not an issue, but I don't and won't spend someone else's money unless and until I know I am making the correct decision every time. It really does matter to me. Like I said, I can trade my own, but I'm even taking my time on that. I trade on a demo account still because I don't want to pull the trigger on the real (live) trades just yet. There's an enormous amount of information to learn. 

    I've been financially OK for the past several years, but while I was raising kids and needed money I just never seemed to have any. I don't understand how that works. I will tell you this, I absolutely got closer to God during those times. I mean to tell you, He was on my breath all the time and constantly!  Thank Him, I do. Thank Jesus all day long, and into the night, falling asleep praising Him. I made it through some tremendously rough years of literally just barely skating by, and at times, I didn't even do that. I managed by Grace, His Grace.  Today, I was offered the job I think and hope will be my last. I want it to be. I want to stay there for the rest of my natural life or until retirement - - and if God wants to use the Rapture as a retirement plan for me, well, I will not complain.

    Finally, I am employed (starting Monday) with a company I can trust to work with me, train me, and keep me busy!!  TRADING is something I just LOVE doing and think about it all the time. I love learning about, thinking about doing it, doing it, playing with the numbers, and waiting on the right moment to make an entry. It's just so unpredictable, volatile, and spasmatic at times, but at other times it is as smooth as glass - and you never know what to expect. I love it.  Very soon I'll leave the paper or demo account I have and push the go button on my own money. I'll have a better understanding at that point of what it means to really take care of my clients, and their needs, and what it means to be responsible for my every decision. This is something I look forward to, and am thankful for the interest.

Photo Credit: Urban Stock Market

     

    

Steph Macleod - an Inspiration.

 Steph Macleod – An Inspiration

About three and half years ago now, I was listening to my Alan Williams collection (you should do that) and I realized that what I was listening to seemed really Celtic and woodsy.  I liked it. I was having one of those moments when I wanted to listen to worship music, but I really liked the Celtic side too.  I went on a search engine and literally Googled the two words "Celtic" and "Worship".  That was easy!  What I found was a band in Scotland called "Celtic Worship", and guess what they play? You got it, Celtic worship music, or worship music with a twist and upbeat Celtic sound.  I loved it.  I think I heard the first note of the first song and thought "Yes, this is it! I like these people!"   I listened to the first words from the lead singer and my heart stopped. 

    Steph Macleod, one of the lead vocalists for the band, as well as a very talented musician in his own right, sent off an immediate alert to my soul when I heard his voice for the first time. It was weird really, because I've heard countless voices, and listened to so many singers in the past. I worked for a major concert producer for years, so yeah, hearing someone sing was normal; it was an everyday event. This time it was so deeply different. I remember stopping the video to go see who this guy was. I'm not going to lie, I couldn't find the information as to who he was, and for a while I thought his name was Steve McCord.  Turns out the lead singer for Celtic Worship is Steph Macleod; short for Stephen, but he goes by Steph.  From that first song I couldn't shake him out of my head or heart. He was just there, living rent free, and I didn't mind. I listened to every song Celtic Worship had listed on YouTube, Spotify, Instagram, anywhere I could find them. 

    I realized about twelve songs in, that Steph had a solo career as well as being associated with Celtic Worship. YouTubes videos, interviews, and other searches led me to watching him give his heart thumping testimony about how he came to being a gospel singer in the first place, when in reality, he was neither a singer or a Christian. He tells the story of how he was an alcoholic by the age of 17, and how a series of events over the next few years found him living homeless on the streets of Edinburgh, but not before bottoming out in Thailand, needing to be rescued.  Words like “gut-wrenching” are a way to adequately describe his story, but so are "authentic", "raw", and "gracious".  If it hadn't been for his faith and what God did for this man, you and I would not be able to listen to his musical contributions today, nor would we know of his continued struggles to stay mentally healthy in a world that insists on calling us out for our shortcomings! Steph is one of those who lives in the trenches when it comes to being real about life. He's been there, recovered, fallen, retraced his steps, asked for help, and has recovered again.

    I think what I like best about the man is that he's not apt to play the victim card, but accepts the full and ugly responsibility of his own actions. He's been arrested, spent time in jail, he's been in rehab a couple of times. He's stood on his own, worked hard, relapsed, and as I said, he was strong enough to ask for help.  He is that same rock for others now, and though being someone's refuge can be daunting and take its toll, Steph's faith is grounded and his hope is dug deeply in the love of Jesus. This fact simply oozes out of his songs and instrumental talent. Besides being a lead guitarist, he was classically trained as a pianist while growing up in Edinburgh.  For years he made his way through music; he just wasn't a singer until after he gave his voice the opportunity to tell his story through the words he wrote about going through addiction and recovery.  The words were his to sing, and he sang them. 

    Today, the handsome, bearded, sultry singing, tattooed gutsy artist has left the Celtic Worship band, and is focusing on more than just producing his own very special music. He's been ministering to the homeless, literally going to them on the streets where he once lived. He speaks with them, showing them that there is hope. He works in the prison ministry, and through a fantastic arrangement with the Bethany Christian Trust, the facility that literally brought Steph back to life, he works with sharing the Word and the life of Christ to men and women who are incarcerated, unable to make it to a traditional worship service.  Through creative practices online he and his band have managed to overstep the boundaries of being locked down through Zoom and other platforms. They bring us song, hope, joy, and worship through the magic and technology of the internet. What a way to inspire! What a means of transformation!

    Steph's music is available online through Amazon and Spotify.  You can catch him on YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram as well.  Give him a look! Your ears and heart will thank you for eternity! That's a promise. 

UPDATE:  he's not always bearded...and just as handsome as ever.

Photo Credit: Issac Bannister of www.cchh.org.uk

What's In a Name?

What's in a name you ask? Well, I suppose a name could be an identifier, a way of pointing to someone and saying "She's a Stringfellow!" That statement could mean that I look like my father, or it could mean that I belong to a set of people who go by the last name (surname) of Stringfellow.  Both are true. I do in fact look more like my dad than I do my mom, and I am in fact, running with and claiming the Stringfellows I come in contact with, for the most part. I'm going to say Nix on the Englishman Peter Stringfellow, who I have no intention of ever claiming, and hopefully, he was more or less from another branch of the good name. 

    Names were created and given and as you (we all) know they could be associated with the jobs one had (Clarke = clerk), or the area one was from (Robin of Hood), and they could be variations of other names such as "Oh, that's William's son" later to be known as Williamson in Scotland, but Williams in England. Strange, but true. My name, the name Stringfellow was a variation of the name Strong Fellow and/or even from Arm Strong or Armstrong. The Scottish remnant of the Stringfellows was not in a clan per se, as we were Lowlanders and Border Reivers, but we hung with the Armstrongs and adopted their ways, tartans, people, trades, habits, and bad behavior right up through the Middle Ages.  Somewhere around the 15th century, there were those Stringfellow/Strengfellow/Strengefelaw (etc) who broke from the ranks of doing evil and decided to support the Crown. This led to one of my recorded ancestors, Sir Robert Stringfellow (1615 Scotland) being knighted.  He and his family left Scotland in 1660 when King Charles II took the throne. There was obviously some trouble there.

    The earliest recorded spelling of Stringfellow was in the 13th Century in the area of York or Yorkshire England, again, back in those days the area went back and forth under English and Scottish rule.  Here is what the Surname database has to say about that particular Stringfellow : "The first recorded spelling of the family name is shown to be that of William Strengfellow, which was dated 1286, witness in the "Assize Court Rolls of Cheshire", during the reign of King Edward 1, known as "The Hammer of the Scots", 1272 - 1307"  Here's a link:  https://www.surnamedb.com/Surname/Stringfellow  You can see the name(s) go through a lot of history before they become your reality. I knew I was English and Scottish because my dad's side of the family was primarily Scottish and my mom is an Edwards -- Yeah, English. I fight with myself all the time.

    Recently, a Scottish friend of mine got a taste of what it's like to make fun of the silly Americans who do DNA tests. He was laughing at me because as he said, he didn't need to do a DNA test to find out he was 100% Scottish, born and bred for centuries. I called him out on it. He refused at first, but I goaded him into it because his mouth was so much bigger than his brain.  I knew that even most Scots will show Scandanavian blood, Irish blood, Welsh blood, and God-Help-Us-All, English blood. It's just a truth that we really can't get away from. There were simply too many pretty English girls running around and those rugged Scottish boys just couldn't help themselves. Sure, they married the Anglo-Saxons and gave them proper Scottish surnames, but their babies were born with the stain of English blood for centuries; and they still do!!

    My friend's last name was McLeod, or so he thought it was. The funny thing about being an investigator, sometimes my Bloodhound senses kick in and go places online such as www.scotlandspeople.uk.gov  and I find things. In his case, I found that he was in fact born on the day and in the place he thought he was born, which was just outside of Edinburgh, however, (and this is huge), his birth certificate had been amended. I guess his mum never told him.  The man who raised him didn't sire him. That man, the man McLeod, married his mum when the boy was nearly 5 years of age.  She had been married to a Mr. Clarke from the mid 1970s until just before she met the man who would later raise the young lad.  Why tell a kid? That was her thought process.  Why? Because he doesn't need to be 44 years of age finding out that not only did he have a dead-beat dad that beat his mum senseless, he had a twin brother who was still living, and going under yet another name, as he was properly adopted at birth.

    The last name Clarke is my best friend's last name now. She married her sweet and loving husband over 30 years ago here in the U.S.A.  Her husband's people are more Irish than English, and I wondered if the DNA for my friend would come back green or not; it did.  After weeks of testing my hypothesis and knowing what he knew because I laid the truth right in front of him using the website, he decided to ask his mum the truth. She wasn't pleased.  Not only did she not tell him about his father, she had never told him or anyone really, that she had a second baby just minutes after the first. She knew she couldn't afford one baby, but twins were never even mentioned by her doctors. It was the 70's. I get that, but apparently, it was a real surprise and her mother talked her into shipping the baby off to a distant relative in the western isles of Scotland literally when he was only days old. No mention of it to anyone ever.  

    The thing about birth certificates is they can be amended, but there is a check box that the doctors check for multiple births. I guess she always told folks it was checked by mistake. I don't envy anyone having to find out that they not only have a different father but also have a twin brother they could have been beating up on and sharing their world with; if they only knew. What's in a name? Too much to contain in some cases.  The same site that I used to find out that his parents had married after he was born, of course, told me who his mum had been married to before. That search led to other searches such as arrests, criminal history, rental and real estate history, and occupational history. We searched every nook and cranny for his real father (without having to ask his mum or her family) and we found much more than we expected. The man really never left Edinburgh! Who knows, he and his new family could have been secretly watching the boy grow up.  The mum was seeking divorce when she became pregnant and it wasn't granted to her until two years after the birth of her sons. The father, Mr. Clarke, was working when the babies were born so he never knew there were two!  WOW!

    I'm not saying that research is good or bad. I'm saying that excavating can uncover more than one bargains if they dig where no one has dug in many years. Things had a way of being covered up for privacy, for family, for keeping a good name, etc., oh, the things we do to save face! What is done in the dark will always be brought to light! There is nothing wrong with a woman realizing that she can't keep two babies, and giving one to a good family. Where the problem comes into play is not telling the truth in the beginning and some 40+ years later having to have a very uncomfortable conversation about a few issues that could have been dealt with slowly and methodically over the years. 

    I'm not sorry I had my friend run his DNA.  He knows now that he is not only NOT full Scottish, and he shouldn't berate others for not having the privilege, but he also knows that humans are humans and we act and do human things which can (at times) really screw the world over for ourselves and for others. His mum didn't deserve to be beaten. She didn't deserve to be put into a situation where she couldn't love and give care to both babies. 

    The brother was found too! The really crazy (and good) thing is, that his parents and family told him the truth as much as they knew. He never knew his mum's actual name, but felt that it was Anne or Annie since every now and then someone referred to her, and he could piece the puzzle of his life together. He lived a good life up in the relatively secluded Orkney Islands after being brought from the Skye or Harris area when his family moved a few years after he arrived.  He was educated, decided to go into the family fishing business, and is co-owner of a fishing boat. He's married and has 2 daughters who are both in college as of 2022.  He too was sad and upset that he didn't know he had a twin! The funny thing is, they are both tattooed, both play guitar, both are Protestant, and both drive blue cars!

    What's in a name? So much.  The name of Jesus holds more than can be imagined. We will never be abandoned. We will never be given away. We will never be lied to. We will never need to cover up the truth. In that name, we have eternal life, and we have eternal hope. This world is odd, upside down, and absolutely bonkers, but we do have Christ! It will be OK. I know when we get to Heaven we'll have a new name. That's going to be interesting.  I can't wait. I think I'll still hang on to Stringfellow as one of my middle names. It's something I don't ever want to do without. I rather like it. Thanks, Dad!

Photo Credit: 4Crests.com

    

Read more: https://www.surnamedb.com/Surname/Stringfellow#ixzz7ehvfGzRv

I Need a Garage!

     When I think about it, I have a list of quite a few things that I really need but I don't have, and a garage (and a wife) top the list.  A garage is where I would be able to store most of the stuff in my apartment that I don't use all the time, but I don't have room for it in my closets, so it's just sitting around like furniture. I say I need a wife because I know I could use a good wife! I'm not into the whole girl-girl thing, but wives can be so handy at times. They cook, they clean, they put things away, they make beds, they feed animals, they take kids places, they run baths, they do laundry, they go grocery shopping, and they put cute pillows on the couch.  Wives make decisions and if I had one, a wife, I wouldn't have or need to make decisions. I used to not have to make any decisions because my kids lived with me full time, all the time. Those were the days! I could wake up and take my first deep breath just knowing that every waking second of my life that day would be orchestrated and planned. Not so much now.

    I need a garage because I really need to have a garage sale, but without a garage, it would just be a sale and I'm not sure I could get a permit for that.  I can check into it I guess.  I need a garage because when the storms come I could park my car in it and not have to drive the short distance I do drive now to park my car under the roof of the parking garage behind my apartment.  I need a garage because then I could have a washer and dryer hooked up inside of that garage and I wouldn't have to take my dirty clothes for a walk around the complex and to the washing machine that I have to pay to use. I need a garage because I want a place to set up a tornado storm shelter in the corner and know that during the bad times I can have a hidey-hole to pray in without worrying that I'm going to go see Jesus before the prayer is finished. (He's been so gracious to us!)

    I need a garage because garages have access to attics and I would have the best attic out there. I would finish it out and have storage sections. I would make a little grid thing up that way, and have plans and assigned places for my boxes. I would make a really cool chart (maybe even color coded) to show where my things were stored and when they were stored so I could make sure to rotate them into the flow of being seen and used! This is a really good reason to have a garage and now I want one really really badly.  I see signs everywhere that say "Garage Sale" but when you get there it's not really for sale. Liars.

    I've lived in this apartment for about seven years now. I had a really nice garage in the house I lived in before this. It was only a one-car garage, mind you, but I had enough room on either side of my car to store boxes, water, a mini-fridge for fizzy water, and I had all my archery things hung up on a little peg board thing. I had a table, a sort of workshop thing, and I could do my pottery.  My kiln was in the corner on casters, I took it just outside the garage to fire it up so that it wouldn't accidentally spark a fire with any fumes that may escape the car. I'm not stupid. LOL...you may have guessed that I did that once, a long time ago.  OOPS!

    If I had a garage it would mean that I have a house! You can buy garages separately but they're called sheds. You'd still need a place with land to put it on, but yeah, if I had a garage it would purport that I also had a house. It's time I had one again. I love my apartment, but it's too small for what I have. I could sell off a bunch of it, but then I'd just gather stuff right back, and we do that. I need a house. I need rooms. I need shelves in those rooms. I need boxes, crates, and buckets. I love baskets. I could do baskets for the nicer things I see and use all the time. I don't really have a lot of useless stuff but I have a lot of stuff stuff. I could trim that back a bit. If my stuff was a person she/he/it would be overweight, but not obese; does that make sense?

    The plan has changed recently from working, saving, moving to Scotland, and continuing to work from home.  The new plan is to work, save up money, move to a house, and continue to work from the house. If I have to work out of the house I'll continue to save, use that money to trade, and make enough on trading what I saved, so I can quit my job and stay home and trade. I think, however, with all the remote opportunities these days, I'll be able to find work from home soon after I get my Series 66/7 licenses to trade for others. I can trade for myself now, without these licenses. The plan is a good plan. It will take me less than a year, and because I plan on only visiting Scotland in the spring, I will have enough to do both that and put down 4% on a house here; probably in Norman, OK. (Boomer Sooner)

    There are really awesome PINTEREST ideas for garages too, and if you know me, you know I'm already on that. I've been eye-balling peg boards, saw horses, ladders, and hooks. I am into the whole organization style of living and if I can I'll even paint the concrete floor of my new garage to make it that much more adorable. This garage of mine will be the envy of every neighbor who secretly wished they too could paint an Armstrong tartan pattern on their garage floor, and keep every do-dad they owned up on the wall in an exquisitely coordinated fashion. This will be a feat and something I am ready to take charge of soon!  Soon!

Photo Credit: Pinterest.  Not Tartan, but you get the idea

Flip Floppin' Again!!

 LESS than one month ago, I joined the YMCA thinking it would be the best thing for me. The Y is literally across the street from where I live, and believe it or not, I have joined it three times and have left it three times. I haven't ever stayed longer than three months either. There is a reason. There is always a really good reason, and this time it was the fact that the new older machines that they put in are really not doing well with my muscle definition; I can get the same results from what I do at home. I just can't see myself using the machines if they're not going to work.

    Most everyone reading this is probably thinking "You gave it less than a month!", and you would be correct. I really should give it longer, but my right knee is not the best, it's chronically injured from when I was a kid or in my late teens anyway. I can't push it no matter how hard I want to. The machines aren't set up with cables they are weight driven, and there really isn't a way to make the exercise work for me using less weight and more reps. I can do that at home with my resistance belts and squats.  

    The other machine I was using to sculpt my body was the pec-fly and the arm machine that I really loved, except it was always in need of repair. They just bought these machines too, but they are older machines and replaced the good ones they had before. The problem is that the Y across the street from me caters to older people really, and they let the really good machines go to another facility where younger and stronger people are. If no one really uses the arm machine at this Y it's not important to them to have it fixed. I used it, but I'm one person. I may go in 2 or 3 times a week, and that's not enough for them to send someone out to fix it. When several machines are broken or need repair they'll send for someone. I'm not dealing with that.

    I can do my leg work out on the vibration machine doing squats, and I can lift 10-15 pound bars at the same time and get a near full-body workout. I just need to do it. If I was spending 30 minutes at a time 3x a week at the Y I need to do that here, and so that's the new plan. I have hand weights (5#, 8#, and 10#) that I use when I watch videos on YouTube and I have the pilates ball that I both sit on and balance/bounce and I use it to do sit-ups and/or pushups but I really like the pushups on the wall now. I do planks too, but the dog tends to giggle and I get to where I want to punch her in the throat. No one should ever feel that way about their dog! I need to start doing the planks in my room and NOT inviting her to watch or participate. She is my Doga partner. 

    I do Doga (Yoga with the Dog) at least 3x a week, and it's a great stretch and plank time. It really is, and I know I am walking enough. I tend to do about 5 miles a day, but lately, I've been keeping it around 3 miles since I spoke with a professional trainer about the dangers of overstepping and ending up getting heavier. The BHB that I use is supposed to be helping with that too, as it allows my body to use fat for energy rather than carbs or sugar. The BHB or beta-hydroxybutyrate is naturally made by the body but I do add some (1/2 tsp) every day to a shake or drink, to help get all the stubborn fat out from behind the organs. I think it's working but I won't really know until around November. I hate waiting. I am one of those who wants results NOW. It doesn't work that way.

    The Y is a great choice for those patrons who go and just walk and talk, or maybe use the machines that are working. I needed them all to work, and I didn't want to have to keep asking when they would be repaired. I loved that place, and I think I would still use it if I could count on the machines being helpful, but I need cable-based machines, not the dead-weight push type. If I ever get around to buying myself a house I think I'll get a 3 bedroom house so I can have a little Box-Flex room. Those are the types of resistance machines that work for me best.

    Speaking of Flip-Flopping! I've decided to stay in America rather than move to Scotland or even spend 1/2 of my time there. I just can't get over the inconveniences I face when I'm there. I start throwing mini-tantrums over simple things and I don't want anyone to think I'm THAT AMERICAN so I keep it bottled up a bit. Then I get mad at something else being so dad-gum backward or out of date, and I just blow it. I don't want that for myself or anyone else. It's not fair. They don't have screens on their windows, I need to just live with that. I can't live with it, but I should. There really isn't good water pressure (anywhere) to flush the toilets, wash my hands, take a shower, run a bath, do the dishes, or really do anything other than brushing my teeth. It doesn't matter where I go in that country, I don't have a satisfactory experience with the use of a faucet or tap! I need to get over it, but I can't. So I think I'll just stay home. I'll go back, yes, of course, but I won't stay long. I can't.

    Some of the things I flip out about, which I know is just really dumb, but I can't change who I am in a day, is/are: No A/C and spotty heating. No condiments on the table or really in sight, I have to ask for it, and when I did I got an old bottle that looked like it hadn't been cleaned; sorry, I have to tell the truth. There was (is) no ice in the drinks, but again, it's OK as long as the water is cooler, but it wasn't. I'm still OK with it, but not really. I say I'm OK with it, but I'm not. I hate, and I do mean HATE waiting at the bus stop to be taken anywhere because in Edinburgh the buses stop literally every minute or less and I just end up walking where I'm going no matter what the weather is.  This is stupid, and I know it is really stupid, but I can't stand the tourists!! I feel like I need to go twenty to thirty miles from wherever I am so I don't run into someone from America asking me where I'm from, and then they want to tell me all about themselves, their family, why they are in Scotland, and all the DNA test(s) results. OK. NO!

    At least if I'm staying in, living in Oklahoma I don't have to be stalked at the bus stop because I don't stand at one. I don't have to be accosted at the checkout stand because I was stupid enough to wear an OU hoodie. We all wear OU hoodies in Oklahoma! No one asks me where I'm from. No one asks me who I root for. No one asks me if I'm married, have kids, what I do for a living, how long I'm staying in the area, where I'm staying, or if I've tried the HAGGIS.  I'm not really staying in Oklahoma, and not going to Scotland for those reasons, but those things do happen to me when I'm there. If I wore a hoodie with something Scottish on it I may be asked by a Scot where I'm from since no one there actually wears apparel with identifying city names. Here, in Oklahoma, we do. Boomer Sooner! We do that.

    No, the reasons I'm really staying in Oklahoma and not moving to Scotland are simple: inconveniences. I really love the place. I think it's where I want to live after the Rapture and the 7-years we spend in Heaven. When we come back with Jesus, then yes, I want to settle in Scotland, but for now, not so much. The weather is bad 80% of the time, though hearing and listening to the accent is great, and I could listen to it all day, I like paying less for my food, being able to flush a toilet when I need to, and I really love jumping in my car to run an errand -- and really that's about it. I don't like being inconvenienced. I go out of my way to help others, but when I'm put in a spot where I can't do anything but wait, or worse, to realize that I'm not going to have what I wanted and could pay for (dry clothes) I get pissy, and that's not fair to my Scottish friends. I can't go around changing who they are or expecting them to bend at my whim. Best to visit and come home.

    That's it.  No more YMCA for me. I'm able to make the difference myself and that's more or less up my alley to do it that way anyway.  I think I'll wait until Spring to visit Scotland again, that will give me time to relax, save the money I need to make it a great trip and I'll hit up the Highlands and areas where the tourists are scarce and/or nonexistent.  I know, the Highlands are full of tourists, but not every corner. I have friends willing to take me on excursions that are off the beaten path and without the souvenir shops.  I won't wear my Oklahoma hoodie this time either. I may wear something non-descript and if asked where I'm from I'll pretend I can't speak English. That may work.

    

Far too many Americans to deal with.  Photo Credit: The Scotsman

To Pee or Not to Pee!

 Laura and I were both offered positions at a company that required a pre-employment drug screening, so we went this morning to have that done. What you need to understand is that not every BODY is designed the same. Even though technically I made Laura, I wasn't alone in the whole process, and something very clearly got lost along the way. Someone (who will remain nameless) didn't get the memo when it comes to being able to pee on command, or at least on short notice. Here I am, ready to go, thinking we'll be in the lab maybe 10-15 minutes tops, but no. That didn't happen. Why should anything be normal when Laura is involved? Note to self; don't make another baby, and if you do, do something different than you did with this one. (I'll have to check with Caity Baby to see if she can readily drain her bladder when directed to do so. Laura malfunctions!)

    We drove the six miles to the lab, parked, walked in, checked ourselves in with the handy-dandy self-check-in kiosk, and seated ourselves.  Within a few minutes, a nicely scrubs-clad woman came to the door and called "Stringfellow".  We both, Laura and I, said "Yes" and the woman was forced to look back at her chart to see which of us she needed. It was me! I won! YEA!  I gave Laura the look you give a person when you have one-upped them; it may only be to go back and pee in a cup, but MY NAME was called! Ha! Take that!  She wished me luck.

    You guessed it. I was in and out of the back rooms of the lab in under 3 minutes I think and that includes the time you stand with the associate to fill out the paperwork. I am a genuinely great pee-er thank you! If peeing was a sport I could probably take home the trophies! We'll just leave it at that. No need to brag. This is NOT the case with my middle child. Reuben, because he is the firstborn, would probably have been prepared to pee for at least 2 days in advance. He'd be ready, and there would be nothing in the way to stop him from fulfilling his duty. If his bladder dared to give him grief upon being given a command, you can bet that man would have nipped that bladder in the bud (If bladders have these) and he would have compelled himself to express! Caity, my baby, would have demanded that someone pee if she wasn't able to do so herself, but there would be PEE.

    Laura, my semi-passive, and often misunderstood middle child, on the other hand, has what the doctors refer to as a shy bladder. WHAT? Are you serious? When she is commanded to do anything bodily whatsoever she locks up. She goes into self-protection mode I guess, and only when her organs feel the need or feel that it is safe to release their load will there be a giving. We waited in that waiting room over two long hours waiting for Laura to go! LET IT GO, Laura!  She did the normal things such as drinking copious amounts of water from their little water tank thing. She waited until there were no other patients and she did jumping jacks in the lobby. When the nurse-types giggled at her she giggled back and said how sorry she was that she wasn't able to just "do it". They said it was normal, but usually, people just paced back and forth. This was a first for them; her jumping jacks.

    We walked into the lab at 10:36 a.m. I was in and out by 10:42 a.m. which includes the check-in, the wait, the paperwork, the duty, and then bam...we wait. We sat there and we waited until 12:17 p.m. for Laura's gut to say it had been stressed enough and now it would relax. THANK YOU! I had visions of her flooding the bathroom when she left the lobby to go back to the back. She tells me she was "good" and that nothing too dramatic happened. This is always good. The worst thing in the world is when you have to go help your adult child urinate, but they won't let anyone back there to hold her hand to encourage her to simply follow instructions such as "Pee inside the cup".  The hardest part of the entire event is when you know you can't flush the toilet! AGONIZING!!!

    Since this lab also did blood work, we were sadly subjected to the screams and non-stop protests of a six-year-old child who was getting her blood drawn so she could have tests run. Her daddy told the nurses they were going overseas. He did look military, so I was wondering why they weren't having her blood drawn at Tinker Air Force Base. Apparently, one of the nurse types asked the same question. He's a civilian now, he was injured, and he's out of the military, but going back to live with family and do civilian work for the government. The poor little angel was in great distress and I could only drift back in memory at my sweet 2nd child who was now trying her hardest to push water out of her body because she was exactly like this little girl. When a needle came near her she climbed up the back and down the front of anyone who was trying to inject her! It was NOT easy trying to wrangle her. At one point we lightly sedated her under the doctor's orders. He had had enough!

    Though I'm not a big fan of needles, I mean, I wouldn't go see them in concert if they came to town, Laura is by NO MEANS going to give into one. She will fight to her own death before being stuck. Again, I'm not sure where she came from, or who her real parents are, but I found her and she's mine and I'm keeping her. She doesn't really do dishes or anything, but she's OK. I like her. For the most part, she's healthy as a horse - - as they say, it's just when you ask her to do something right then and there she has to really think about it, and that can lead to her body disagreeing with her mind. I suppose if we were all Olympic urinators we wouldn't need that extra three-hour window they give people who choose to wait it out after thinking they could let it out. If she had not been able to go after 3 hours she would have had to reschedule for another day! So inconveniencing.

    Running warm water on her hands didn't work. Drinking more water didn't work. Doing the jumping jacks, walking, pacing, hopping, and lunging, didn't work. The body, her body, just has to say "OK I'm good" and it finally did. FINALLY!  Laura has never been on time for anything other than her birth, and even that was a stubborn mess! I won't go into it, but suffice it to say that I was sent home 4 separate times and forceps were produced in the end. She's a mule! I thought about selling her once, but then again, she's so freaking cute. I don't think I could have lived with myself if I had made that decision. Besides, someone had to tangle with Caity! Laura was born for that!  The job done, we went home and you guessed it, she spent the next few minutes flooding my toilet!

Remote! Get Set! Go!

 I've been working remotely and on my own for so long now, that I had a really hard time walking into an office during the Pandemic while everyone else was working from home.  I eventually stopped going into that office, as they too, closed, but it was odd for me, the remote at-home worker, to be expected to be in an office setting so the boss could have easier access to me.  Neither of us was particularly concerned with COVID and to be perfectly honest with you, both of us had the virus in late 2019, before it had a name. We were working remotely then, on our own, using Zoom and text for the most part, but as time went on he wanted me in the office to give me instructions and directions. Eventually, he too decided that spending as much as he was on rent, leasing furniture, and all of the overhead associated with running a physical office just wasn't worth it. He let me go, he branched out on his own, and we've remained close enough.  I have been bouncing around a bit trying to land a good-paying job since then, but it is what it is. I understand it.

    As an independent insurance agent, investigator, and claims adjuster, I have been working from my home office since around 2015. I owned a business in Indiana doing the same thing, but I did work out of a small one-person office in a suite of offices in the big city.  It was good to be away from the house most days. My daughters worked from home and were both living with me, as well as my fantastic son-in-law, who though he worked out of the house, was there quite a bit of the time. Being away from home was a good thing. After I moved back to Oklahoma City to help with family issues, I found myself working remotely. I didn't mind, I was not sharing the space with anyone other than the dogs and a cat. I don't think I've been down to one cat for about 7 years now that I think about it.  

    Since the Pandemic nearly everyone and yes, their dogs, work from home. I have auditioned, applied, and interviewed for so many positions that have been remote and/or calling themselves "hybrid" to give themselves an out should they reopen a physical office space.  Currently, again, through no fault of my own, I find myself seeking permanent and I do mean PERMANENT employment. Of the 64 applications I have out there, only two that I know of, are in person. The rest require that I work from home. I'm OK with either. I do think it's funny (not funny as in "ha ha", odd) that companies who would provide furniture such as desks, chairs, coat racks, break rooms, refrigerators, printers, computers and such if you work in their office are now expecting folks to buy their own laptops and ONLY use these laptops for work-related situations. They expect people to pay out $600-1000 for a piece of equipment to use solely for their company, and they want to pay out in salary less than what a person could earn flipping burgers! It really is time they did a gut check and try to figure out why they lose so many employees. DUH!

    Since I am licensed to sell every line of insurance possible, and I am also licensed to be an adjuster, as well as an associate underwriter (I need my CLU) I have options that a lot of others don't have. I can hold out a bit and take a better-paying position or one that will be a more lasting suitable position.  I just took one last month, thinking it would lead to something more permanent, but the 2nd day I was there the boss showed his colors (and books) to the tune of embezzling not only from himself but from clients. I had to leave. What part of my resume made him think I would cover up his felonies? I think I remember putting the word "investigator" right up at the top, and I mentioned I taught Ethics! Yeah, I do.

    I'm basically coming to the understanding that I will either work for myself again, or I'll learn to trade for a company that does floor trading in stocks, and I'll do that, gleaning as much strategy information as possible to help me with my personal trading. I can do that for several months, then decide to split my time between Oklahoma and Scotland. If they let me work for them still, they would be the winner in the long run.  Scotland is 6 hours ahead of Oklahoma's CST zone and I could trade both in the U.S. market as well as the London market, and help them and their clients! That's a win-win if you ask me. I think that may end up happening. If not, I can see myself working in Scotland for myself and just traveling back and forth on my own, maybe picking up trades for others when I get my Series 66/7 license. That's the real plan!!  

    I took the SIE and passed. I took the Series 66, but I missed it by literally 2 points. I think that's 1 or 2 questions. I'm so mad about that. I'll take it soon and pass then, the Series 7 when I'm sponsored to do so. Having the Series 66/7 will allow me to trade for the firm, for others, be a broker, do my own, and just really explore the entire gambit of the financial world of trading and wealth management. I think it may be a good idea to have wealth first so I can manage it. That's the plan my plan is planning for. If I had to be honest.   Let the games begin.

    Since we're all working from home these days I can't complain to anyone about the messy breakrooms, the bathrooms not being as tidy as they need to be or the trash not being emptied. I can't expect my co-workers to pay the least bit of attention to me when I give them a directive. Dogs and cats just don't want to be subjected to being treated as subordinates.  The Bearded Dragon just stares at me. You know we have all had a co-worker that did that. I understand. I really do. I think for once in my life, I have the best in the world, being at home and loving my animals while I learn and study to do more for others and myself through education and training. If I ever stop learning you can go ahead and pull the sheet over my face. I want to learn and continue to learn right up until the last breath I take! 

    Do I think it will ever go back to "normal" again? No. This is not only the new normal, it is the end of times. We're about to leave this planet for real life, and believe me when I say I can't wait. I have been hoping for, and looking forward to that promotion for YEARS! I have no idea what assignment God will give me there, but I do know the one assignment that I have now will end because the man I've been assigned to pray for is a Believer, and he's looking forward to the rapture as well.  Maybe we'll be eternal partners and come up with some really cool things to share with everyone. That's up to God, not me, but I could look at that guy for the rest of eternity -- no problems.  Talk about remote/hybrid! We'll be in and out of Glory, working, training, educating, being the preachers, judges, teachers, and whatever we're called to be - - some will probably still be musicians and singers. This is a blessing, and I thank God for it!  Yes, please! (and thank you)

So me!

Photo Credit: Road Warrior Creative