Tag Archives: twitter

I Tweet, Therefore I am.

Posted in Blogging, Book, Daily 4:8, Faith, family, Fathers, Kids speak crazy, Latent Nuttiness, literature, Marriage, Mothers, Uncategorized, Writing by

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Y’all. I’m supposed to be fasting from social media right now.

See? See how well that’s going? This is me… fasting.

Allow me to explain:

When I started the Congo fast because my evil friend Kate suckered me into it without my full knowledge, comprehension, or understanding, and I did it out of the goodness of my heart and because I am totally spiritual and my goodness this is all a load of hooey.

ANYHOW. When I started the Congo fast w/ Kate for our Sunday school class… I thought… Well. Food. I have to fast from food for 40 days. That’s nearly impossible and as we all know I have caved like a Neanderthal about twenty times in the 40 days, but who’s counting?

As God is my witness, I thought the tortillas were going to be it.

But, as Kate has so patiently reminded me, also about twenty times, the Sunday school class does exceed 40 days. So, what are we gonna do for the other portion? Just sit around and talk about how fabulous we were for fasting?

Ok, so along with Chris Seay’s A Place at the Table, we read this gem:

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I use the word “gem” because I have so few of them now, BECAUSE JEN KEEPS TELLING ME TO GIVE STUFF AWAY.

Ok, seriously. Here’s more explaining: We decided to also tackle, along with food the other items that Jen mutinies against. There right there on the cover for you: clothes, spending, waste, stress (har har har), waste, and MEDIA.

MEDIA.

YES IN ALL CAPS.

Guys. You can take my clothes and help me recycle and give me a budget and make me eat corn tortillas ’till the cows come home (that we can’t eat)

BUT YOU WILL HAVE TO PRY MY MEDIA FROM MY COLD, DEAD HANDS.

Here is the very real conversation I had with Kate about this whole media thing, yesterday:

Kate: I’m fasting from media and it’s going okay. How about you?
Me: *leans forward to the microphone* I cannot recall.

That’s a pretty fabulous Ollie North, right? And for those of you who are too young to understand my cheap mimicry of the general and his memory recall issues, what I REALLY said is something like this:

Me: NOOOOOOO. This is so HARRRRRRD. I’m eating rice and beans – you can’t make me NOT watch Netflix TOOOOOOOOOOO.

The wailing, I tell you, was heard one county over.

I ask you, what about all my quips? Where will the quipping go, if I cannot post about it? It will be like I don’t even exist.

Really. How can I live without the tweetings?

What if my children do something adorable? (rare, granted). Or the cat? What if the CAT does something adorable (hourly). How will I live without talking about it?

So, here is my announcement: Our Congo fast and its 40 days is over this Sunday. After that, I will be walking away from my computer for a week.

I will miss you *she waves weakly* Don’t you worry about me… *fading away* I’m sure I’ll be… just… fine *drops to the floor in a heap and makes sure her pose is flattering for a selfie*

Social media, y’all. It’s addictive stuff. I mean, really. If a tree falls in the forest and no one takes a picture of it for Instagram, does an angel lose his wings?

Or something like that.

Now, the only people I have yet to tell are the children. They’ll be joining me in this fast. No Netflixes. No Wii Rockband.

The cries will be heard from two counties over.

Pray for us.

Save

Where Have You Gone, Joe DiMaggio?

Posted in Blogging, Faith, family, Friday Funny, Mothers, Uncategorized by

Linking up with Five Minute Friday today. The theme?

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Well. I don’t see the draw with this one. We certainly don’t need help, do we?

Har har har. Little bit of sarcasm there. In case you weren’t tracking. Sarcasm is my jam, y’all.

I was talking on the phone with my mom the other day. Normally our conversations go like this:

“I made coconut muffins the other day! Want to talk about them for the next twenty minutes?”

“Ooooooo! Muffins! Yes! Let’s discuss!”

And so on.

But instead, this conversation traveled into a scary place called the Great Angry Cat Box  Called the Political Arena.

Me: Mom. We are doomed. Doomed, I say.

Mom: I pray one thing, mainly, every day. I pray for Mercy for the United States. We need it.

Let’s face it. We need HELP.

Or maybe we don’t really want to face it at all. Thus, we have social media. Which doesn’t allow us to really face truth, in any way. It just gives us filtered versions and demands, “Now, WHICH SIDE ARE YOU ON?”

We need a hero. A real hero. Someone to save the day. And I don’t see Jesus coming back and then saying, “Stop! Stop all the prophecy! I mean, yes, we WILL get to that, Elijah and Moses, so just get a bottle of water and take a break. Maybe watch a little Great British Bake Off. It’s such a good show. Anyhow, FIRST, I need to fix this president thing over in the United States. Did you hear about them? They are a Great Angry Cat Box right now and I am going just head over there and clean it UP. And then, we’ll get back to Revelations, ok?”

I have no other wisdom. I can only offer this – a former student of mine said it:

“Maybe instead of watching the Republican National Convention I should spend that time praying and fasting for our country.”

Sounds good. Prayer and fasting never hurts.

When I was a girl, I always used to listen to my mom’s Simon and Garfunkel albums – one of my favorite songs by them would croon: “Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.” But the truth? DiMaggio was no hero. We sure wanted him to be, yes. We want someone, anyone, to show up. To BE the help we need. Our heroes are being dismantled, before our eyes, on a daily basis.

Help. We need help.

We don’t just want it. We really, REALLY need it.

This is good, all this need. Somehow, I think, this is just the place we are supposed to be. Because of all this gaping, messy need, it is good. Weakness forces us to lean. Somehow, I really do think, it’s all going to be all right.

In the meantime, I guess… help others? I dunno. I think that’s what we are supposed to do with all this. Maybe. I don’t mean to get all Mother Teresa here on this but. Well yes, I do. Because when I focus on that it makes me feel less afraid. I was told once, from an editor, “Never throw Mother Teresa into your writing. Nobody needs the reminder of who they are not. She’s become kinda, well, overused.” Perhaps, but today? She helps ME. So, she’s in here. Take that, Mr. Editor. (I don’t think he reads my posts anyhow, so I’m safe. I hope.”

Or…if the Mother Teresa route makes you dizzy and you just can’t picture yourself in the white head-dress, maybe we should just stick with discussing coconut muffins with your momma.  Both are very good options.

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Surrender is not an option.

Posted in Blogging, Faith, family, Friday Funny, Latent Nuttiness, Marriage, Mothers, Uncategorized, Writing by

Well. I am going to do it. I am going to write about politics.

This clearly goes against my contract. It states, in article 42, section 7:

“Any undeclared war, civil war, insurrection, rebellion, revolution, warlike act by a military force or military personnel, destruction or seizure or use for a military purpose, and including any consequence of any of these. Discharge of a nuclear weapon shall be deemed a warlike act even if accidental.”

Um. The words “discharge of nuclear weapon” and “accidental” don’t seem to fit together, do they?

Also, there is:

“For services rendered and to be rendered, it is agreed between the Author and the Author’s agent that the Author does hereby irrevocably assign and transfer to said agent and agent shall retain for the life of the Work a sum equal to fifteen percent (15percent) as an agency coupled with an interest of the gross monies accruing to the account of the Author per the Agreement and any subsequent agreements for the life of the Work in all its editions, revisions and adaptations, prior to deductions from or charges against such monies for any reason whatsoever.” (No, this was not my author’s contract. But it was close. It made my head hurt.)

Oops. Wrong section. I found all that charming legalese  here.

Section EIGHT says:

Momsie doesn’t do politics. Politics are whack.

Linking up with Five Minute Friday, today. And wouldn’t you know it? The theme is:

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Well played, Kate Motaung.

All right. Brace yourself. I am now going to talk politics for the remainder of this blog post. It’s a rare and rather frightening event, much like spotting Big Foot, but also if Big Foot was going to knock on your door and ask to SPEND THE NEXT FOUR YEARS HANGING AT YOUR HOUSE.

Here are my thoughts on politics:

  1. I never really knew what a caucus was until this year. This admission is making my father and at least ONE of my old students who now teaches Social Studies growl at me. I always thought a caucus sounded kind of risque and salacious. Therefore I avoided them. Momsie doesn’t do salacious.
  2. I now live in a small town. The caucus does not come to me. It must be searched out, hunted down and fought for. Cue up, again, the SAME movie clip that I seem to use for every blog on here ever:f92e423d19364d85f10361f51b9c717d

Hey, if the Last of the Mohican moccasin fits, wear it.

In other words:

3. I’ll give you my caucus when they pry it from my cold, dead hands.

Bit over the top? Bit too dramatic? Perhaps. As we all know, Momsie feeds on sugary dramatic overstatement for breakfast.

4. Evil, and evil people, are simply those who are unwilling or unable to deal with true self awareness.

I know. Think about it. I came up with that in the shower this morning. I thought it was pretty good.

If we really were able to deal honestly and thoughtfully with you we are, we would be walking towards God. God made us that way. He crafted humans to lean to the light, to seek justice, to be clean. And, our leaders are human. No, really. They are. So, I am praying praying praying that all of those who are so intent on leading this country would really be willing to tackle their motives, their deepest heart. Their true nature. And that goodness would filter to the top.

5. Finally. It’s possible the candidate we want to win, won’t. It’s possible. Very possible. And yet, as my pastor says, “God will still be on the throne, no matter who is president.”

God is. God was. God will be.

I believe that the world seems very scary and sad and angry when we look at facebook, at twitter, at the news. It is understandable. Know why?

The world is a very scary and sad and angry place.

I also believe:

The world is lovely, loving, and new every morning. And that Good will prevail. And that glory reigns. And that, thank you, EASTER IS COMING!

I also believe: too many fearful news posts can be combated with:

  1. Prayer
  2. Kitty pictures.
  3. Or, perhaps, both,  AT THE SAME TIME.

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KITTY SCRIPTURE FOR THE WIN.

‘Purr-fect peace’. That’s cute.

Now, go vote.

Small print and lawyer-y diclosure: Momsie is not in any way trying to endorse one candidate over the other because that’s your darn responsibility. Also, the she has never been more confused and holy cow the options are totally weirdo this year so far be it from her to try and tell YOU how to vote. Good Lord almighty. Also, she is not trying to make light of something very serious and important but oh let’s face it this whole situation needs some levity else she will just have to throw in the towel. She’s going to let the other people post the serious stuff and pictures and articles and statistics and horrible clips and videos and ugh this social media thing sometimes just makes me want to go sit by a pond and feed the sweet non-partisan ducks.