Olympic lesson

email to my grands.  

I have long thought that I should write to my grandchildren now and then.  Today, I wrote an email. Perhaps I should do "real" letters, though 

Dear  Acadi & Patrick, Aurora,  Esther, Jared, Samuel, Peter, Molly, and Jacob

(although I am sure Peter and Jacob are too young understand any of this)

Hi Kids,

    Have you been watching the Olympics?  I have not very much, but I did see something that impressed me.   

     I was watching Skateboarding - Street.  You may know that Skateboarding is new to the Olympics this year and has two categories - Park and Street.  Park is where they skate in those deep bowls like they have at skate parks.  Street has elements that one encounters on a city street - stairs, handrails, curbs, benches, walls, and so on.  I, personally, would rather you not do either, it looks dangerous, but anyway...  The street boarders launch themselves off a  wall or top of the steps or ramp and do various tricks.  A lot of somehow leaping on top of a handrail briefly, then flipping down to the ground at the foot of the stairs, often while rotating the board or moving their foot position,  and skating on to the next element.  I don't understand or even completely see all that they do and are judged on, but it is amazing to see anyway.  

    They do sometimes  fall.  Hard.  On cement. While going fast.  With the whole world watching.  More than I expected from Olympic athletes.   The thing is, they get up, get back on their skateboard, and keep going.  They probably have lost their chance at winning a medal.  And they are probably a bit bruised and sore.  And maybe embarrassed.  But they don't quit.  They don't give up.  They don't decide they are failures.  They keep going.  That makes them winners. 

    We all want to do what is right.  We want to be good and do good.  And sometimes, we fall down.  But we should not get down on ourselves.  We should not give up because we are not perfect - or even close.  We should get up and keep trying.  

   Our former Stake President, Alan Fisher (your moms may remember him) just got back from a stint as a mission president and visited our ward today.  Anyway, he told us about an incident he saw while watching the gymnasts competing on the rings.  One fellow leaped up to the rings, started to do a maneuver, and fell.  His coach ran over and said some encouraging words.  The gymnast jumped up, grabbed the rings, began his routine, and fell again!  His coach came out and talked to him again.  The gymnast started over and fell a third time!  Again his coach came out and spoke to him, encouraging him.  The athlete jumped to the rings, did a very complicated maneuver and completed his performance.  He did not medal, but he was a winner.  He can be proud of himself for facing fear, embarrassment, and disappointment, and doing what he started out to do. 

    Sometimes we will have trouble and fall, but God will still love us, and encourage us, and wants us to keep trying.  God will give us a 2nd chance, a 3rd chance, a 4th chance - as many chances as we need if we keep trying.  

    Also,  we should be kind to others when they fall and disappoint us.  

   

    You are winners.  I love you.  God loves you.  I hope you love you!

love, 

    Grandma Barbara

General Confence Lunch?

Due to the Coronavirus pandemic, this is the third General Conference weekend without our family/ missionary lunch between sessions.  I don't know how I feel about it.

For more years than I can remember (since even my oldest was young), my family has shared lunch with the missionaries between General Conference sessions both Saturday and Sunday.  We have fed as many as 2 dozen (or even maybe a little more) missionaries.  This means I have prepared lunch for about 40 people both days.  Ok, Sunday's lunch was basically a repeat of Saturday's, not a separate menu. The missionaries never complained.

It started many, many years ago.   We had "always" attended all the sessions of General Conference.  During a brief period when we had satellite or cable TV we tried watching it at home.  I had problems with that.  The children drifted off.  The house yelled at me.  Dishes. Laundry.  So much to do.  I have never been a master (or should I say mistress) housekeeper so there is always a great deal that needs doing.  It was distracting from the conference for me.  So, we made it a practice to attend conference at the Stake Center.  We packed up (relatively) quiet toys and used a side room rather than the chapel.  The children played quietly in the back.  Sometimes they colored. They were only required to sit and listen  when the prophet spoke. Without pressure, this evolved into them coming closer, sitting and listening more, and taking notes as they grew older.  We set up Seminary tables and brought in Relief Society (softer) chairs so that we could take notes (or color) more comfortably. 

But we were talking about food.  It was too stressful to go home, eat, and return during the two hour break. I started packing lunch for us.  I packed some pretty good lunch.  I wanted the family to associate conference with good things.  One day we were sitting in the multi-purpose room eating fried chicken when we saw the missionaries come through, having just made themselves some Ramen for lunch.  Noodles and broth! That's all.  I felt awful and vowed, Never again.  

From that time forward, we invited all the missionaries in the Stake Center to join us for lunch during General Conference.  I had to give up fried chicken.  That was just too much.  I kept it pretty simple.  The usual fare was make-your-own-sandwich fixings - breads, egg salad, tuna salad, deli ham, deli turkey, cheese, peanut butter, jam, & honey - veggie tray, several layer dip, tortilla chips, beans & franks.   When she was healthier and stronger, Miriam made cookies.  More recently Ruth's kids baked cookies.  On rare occasion, I put ice cream bars in the freezer for the missionaries.   We texted an invitation to all the missionaries in the Stake a week or two in advance.  Every full time missionary in the Stake Center was invited to lunch.  Once in a while, they invited investigators.   We loved it.  

I set out cameras and asked the missionaries to take lots of pictures and to give me email addresses.  I emailed the pictures to the missionaries' families and posted them to Facebook.  I tried to get the emails out on Saturday so if there were mail failures, I could ask the missionaries for corrections at Sunday's lunch.  such fun

As simple as the menu was, it was time consuming (I am slow shopping and food prepping) and costly.  Now, I have had a 3 conference break.  And I have grown enough to be able to thoroughly enjoy conference at home even though my home is still in dire need of attention.  I think that the worst of the pandemic is past and that we will be able to meet at the Stake Center again in October.  I am feeling old, slow, and tired, but I cannot see not inviting the missionaries to lunch. And I love that Benjamin's family comes from another ward and  Ruth's family comes from another Stake to join us for at least morning session (do the breakfast croissants  have anything to do with that? (family only, not the missionaries, but sometimes I feel bad about that.The last few times David & Teresa made those instead of me)) and lunch before the Hinds take the kids to rest and watch at home and B+ go to watch at her parent's home.  Can I simplify lunch again?  Maybe not make egg salad and tuna salad sandwich fixings.  I am more tired thinking about doing the lunch after this break than I was when I was actually doing it.  So, it might be ok.  (Of course, I am also getting older.) But not to feed the missionaries?  While enjoying the break, I have missed them.  Not yet. 

What's in a Name - surname. Barbara MIJARES REED OWES ROBARTS

I was born Barbara Louise MIJARES, daughter of Louise Marie McGinness Mijares and Rolf Siegfried Mijares.  Mijares is a noble Spanish family name meaning millet or millet field.  My father and grandfather were born in the Philippines. I have not followed my line further back (yet). It is my understanding that our family were landowners in the Philippines.   

My parents were divorced when I was very young.  My mother married Harold REED who adopted me (and my brother and sister).  The name Reed may have come from the nickname meaning red.  Or it might come from the valley of Redesdale or the River Rede in Northern England.

Mother and Harry divorced.  She married Gordon D. OWES who adopted me and my siblings, now a sister and 2 brothers) I was told that the name was originally Aas (possibly pronounced owes), but when the family came to America from Scandinavia wiseacre (or careless) Americans changed the spelling from double A S to A double S.  When the Aas realized what happened and what it meant, they changed their last name to OWES, same sound, different spelling and meaning.  In Norway and Sweden  "As" meant "ridge" 

Mother and Gordon also divorced, but I was married before she married Don JOHNSTON.

I married Glen ROBARTS. (we divorced, I kept the name because it is my children's name)  

 Robarts is supposedly a variation of Robert or Roberts which comes from the Old German and means "fame" or "bright."

I, however, created a name origin story for the Robarts;

Long ago in Wales, a young man named Bart served the lord of the manor by rowing his boat for the master's pleasure.  Bart was a bit of a dreamy young fellow who enjoyed nature.  Sometimes he would be so enraptured by the beauties of nature that he would forget to row.  He watched a mother duck and her flock of ducklings swimming near by.  The master would order, "Row, Bart!"  Bart admired the reflection of the clouds on the pond and the boat drifted.  "Row, Bart!"  A butterfly fluttered by.  "Row, Bart!"  And so it went all day long.  You know how sounds carry over water.  All Bart's neighbors in their fields and shops heard the master's call.  When Bart returned home, the villagers would teasingly greet him, "Row, Bart!"  Soon he was not just Bart, but always Robart, when he married, his wife was Robarts' wife, and his children were Robarts children.  I know this is the true story of how the Robarts family got its name because I made it up myself. 

Below is an honestly true story:  

One day at the temple, sisters I knew casually asked me to remind them of my name.  So I told them Bart's story to help them remember.  

A week or two later, we met at the temple again.  They greeted me, "Hello, Sister Michaels!" 

Michael, row the boat ashore

Even a little bit helps

 Hardly a day goes by without multiple appeals for charitable donations - on line and via email and , in person on street corners and outside stores.  One cannot go very far out of one's house before encountering street beggars and/or seeing homeless encampments.  These requests stir up feelings of both guilt and annoyance.  (Then I feel guilty for feeling annoyed and ask myself I would like to trade places, have a little compassion. There are a lot of people in trouble out there - homeless and hungry)   I seldom comply.  

I combat feelings of guilt by reminding myself that I do donate hundreds of dollars a year.  First, I pay Fast Offering.  Then I make regular small contributions to LDS Humanitarian Services.  I once read some impressive numbers of how much money would go to help people in need if every member of the church gave just one dollar.  Since then, I donate at least $5/month to Humanitarian Services.  Not much, but in the every little bit theory.  Once in a while I give through other organizations and sometimes make up food/lunch packets to give to street people, although scary news stories have me doing that less.  But one can only do/give so much.  It is hard not to feel badly. 

Today I got an email that helps.  A lot.  

Your Contributions Are Making a Difference

"To anyone who has ever given a humanitarian aid donation, to the child who sealed some coins in an envelope, to the new widower who made a donation in memory of his wife—you are Latter-day Saint Charities, and you are helping others feel the love of God and the love of neighbors in the far reaches of the earth. Thank you." Sister Sharon Eubank, President of Latter-day Saint Charities, First Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency

In 2020, a year of adapting to new needs, the Church increased humanitarian efforts thanks to donations from people like you. Thanks to your support, Latter-day Saint Charities led over 3,600 humanitarian projects in 160 countries and territories, impacting the lives of millions. With the COVID-19 pandemic, donations from you and partners helped to send medical and emergency supplies to people around the world; train health care professionals regarding physical, mental, and emotional support for those who are struggling; and adjust production schedules at Church-owned canneries and food processing plants to meet increasing community needs. Our work is your work, and we are guided by our faith and commitment to live the first and second great commandments. "When we love God with all our hearts, He turns our hearts to the well-being of others in a beautiful, virtuous cycle." - President Russell M. Nelson, "The Second Great Commandment," Oct. 2019 general conference.

What's in a name? Barbara

               When I was born, my parents named me Barbara Louise.   

               Sometime in my youth, when I expressed discontent with my name, which I had looked up and found "Barbara" to mean  "foreign" or "strange" and "Louise" to be a feminine of form of Louis and, of course, Louise was also my mother's first name (neither of which pleased me at the time), my mother somewhat offended, told me that she had named me after her best friend.  I am not sure if the friend's name was "Barbara" or "Barbara Louise".  I do not remember further conversation.  I wish I had known much earlier that I had been named for a good friend.  I wish I knew something about her and what made this friend special.  My mother was 17 when I was born.  I assume her friend, Barbara, was also a teenager.  They were probably in high school together. I am not sure when my mother left high school or even if she graduated.  She might not have because of me. We sure never talked much, did we?  

          Some say that people think that the name "Barbara" is "classic   mature   formal   upper class   natural   wholesome   strong   refined   simple   serious   nerdy .    I am not sure how much of that might apply to me. 

             I never learned to particularly like my name, nor it's variants.  I certainly am not a "Barbie" or a "Bobbie".    Some say that "Barbara"  can also mean "exotic" which for some reason sounds more appealing, except I am in no way exotic - which implies beautiful and interesting.  I am rather peasant-like.   But Barbara also means "Barbarian,"  which I think some might think applies to me.  I am certainly not lady-like, refined, cultured, and/or educated.  

        A very few have called me "Barb" and it was usually kindly meant and I liked it maybe a little better than "Barbara".  It may have even fit. I can think of a person or two would think so.  "a point or pointed part projecting backward from a main point, as of a fishhook or arrowhead; an obviously or openly unpleasant or cutting remark."

Other Barbara's:

      Barbara may have become an popular name in early ties because of St. Barbara an early Christina martyr who was tortured and killed for her faith.  She is the patron saint of armourers, artillerymen, architects, mathematicians, miners and the Italian Navy. St. Barbara is one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers, venerated because their intercession is believed to be particularly effective against disease.

     I don't recall many Barbara's that I have personally known.  There was Barbara Fair, who went by Fair (or maybe Faire?) and there is Barbara W.  both of them  a gracious and lovely women of faith.  

     One can find famous Barbara's. One of my favorite famous Barbara's is Barbara Bush. Despite being wife of a president of the United States and under public scrutiny, she was delightfully herself.  She loved being a wife, mother, and grandmother.  She didn't get a new and super expensive outfit for every occasion.  She had a sense of humor and self-deprecating wit.  She supported literacy. Mostly I just liked that she didn't try to be something she wasn't.

      If I had named myself, what would it be?  Well, I gave my daughters some of my favorite names.   I would have liked an Elizabeth, too.  I don't think I really fit them, though. Don't think I could quite live up to them. I think that Deborah might have come close to suiting me, although I cannot see myself as a Debbie or even a Debi.  I have a wonderful daughter Debi and I cannot see me matching that as well. 

       What is your name?  Does it suit you?   Why were you named that?

2021.01.30 email to Teresa

 

Barbara Robarts	5:13 PM (2 minutes ago)
to Teresa

Sorry to be so slow to respond.  Doing pretty well, except for getting any home/house work done.   How are you?

     After skipping a few days equally due to weather and laziness, I decided to take Kira to a dog park.  Did I tell you that I am both making her life more interesting and trying to keep her from thinking she is queen of the park by taking her to different places?  I was going to give her a treat today and take her to her first park, Marco Park, in Citrus Heights, which is half an hour away.  Alas,we found it  closed.  I should have guessed as it is shaped like a stadium - bowl- like.  So I looked on the map and tried Saugstad  Off Leash Dog Park.  Oh, no!  I discovered that 1) I had forgotten her leash!  having let her go freely from the house to the car.  Ok, I had a cheap scarf I could tie to  her collar.  2)  the dog park was buried somewhere in the park, and required walking on a path full of people and dogs, and 3) she was a bit too excited for easy handling. I didn't like it.  That one is off my list.  I hoped that the third time would be a charm,  She, however refuse to get back in the car.  She sat down like a stubborn toddler and became dead weight as I hefted her, one end at a time, back into the cargo area.  Third time was a charm.  I give an A to C-Bar-C Dog park.  Parking close to the entrance.  A  very big space, some of it open and some a grove of trees. It was the first park I have been to that actually still provides dog poop bags, but I used my own, anyway.  Along one part of the fence, the dog park backs a farm yard pasture with goats and chickens. The chickens are used to the dogs and trust the fence, so some of them were in the bushes right next to the fence. So tantalizing!  Lots of dogs, but plenty roomy, some huskies, and THREE Kira look alikes.  Almost alike.  One was a male only a little bigger than she.  Then a possible Akita or Akita mix a little bit bigger still.  And one more closely her size.  When they were all away at the end of the park, I had to look and watch closely to know which was her.  Even closer by, it could be confusing.  At a new park, she spends more time exploring than with other dogs, but we stayed a bit over an hour, so she mixed her time pretty well there.  Stopped at WinCo on the way home to get the almond butter I had forgotten for Miriam last time (I found her in the passenger area instead of cargo and told her to move) and then went through Quick Quack.  She doesn't love it, hopped from the cargo area to the back seat again, which was understandable,  but wasn't too upset. 

     I made pizza last night, but we only ate half, and Andrew just took Miriam some food, so I think I am off the hook for dinner.  YAY!

     Today is Croissant Day.  I picked some minis up with the almond butter.  Now, what to do with them? 

     I went to Kaiser drive through blood pressure check Thursday.  A little high. So they had me wait and tested me again.  WAY high.  I was advised to get a tester.  That arrived yesterday.  My bp is dangerous.  Oh, great.  Less salt, less CHOCOLATE, more exercise, et cetera.  I may die, either from deprivation or from not doing deprivation. My bsl is not so hot either.  

     How is your sleeping?  How's your day?

     Love you!

2020 Letter

      Hasn’t 2020 been some year?!

     It started out normally.

     I like to observe Family Day on January 25. This year, the Hinds kids were in performances on the 25th, so we got together on the 11th when we played Escape the Crate games. Sort of like an Escape Room only in a box. It is a lot cheaper and you can play anywhere as long as you have an internet connection. (Also, the game can be passed on to be played by another group.). I thought it was a lot of fun and enjoyed seeing my children’s brilliant minds at work.

     Despite the family game day, the Hinds performances, and a time or two babysitting,  I sadly typically did not spend much time with my family, especially, my grandchildren. We tend to take life for granted and be too busy for some of the most important things.  David & Teresa are pretty much on the same Sunday schedule and live close by, so we frequently had Sunday dinner together before Covid.  But I did not see my other married children as often.  We all were busy with our own obligations and concerns.  I took it for granted that we could have time together anytime, we just had to schedule. 

     And then Covid hit.  Suddenly we were practicing social isolation and could not get together with family. Not being able to get together feels a lot different from being busy and not managing it right now.   It was sad, but we did not expect it to last long.  Everyone was going through the same thing with some people being more cautious and careful than others.  I was moderately careful.  As the months have gone on, the threat seems to have grown, and Miriam’s health became of greater concern, I have tried to be more careful.  And felt the restraints more  - like so many other people.

     In March we stopped meeting in person at church.  First we did home church which for the most part I enjoyed.   I have housemates who are not morning people so we had home church at 11 instead of 9. (and sometimes later)  Just like when we attend, some meetings were very inspirational and some less so.  I did get tired of being responsible for our meetings and gained a better appreciation for our Bishopric, but at least there are 3 of them and they take turns being responsible. Eventually the ward started doing meetings on Zoom, so  we are now back to our assigned time for 2020 at 9am and I am not in charge any more (whew!), but I will confess that not everyone is always dressed for church when we attend via Zoom.

I am grateful that we have so many resources to help us study the gospel in addition to the scriptures.  Whether we meet in person, study individually, do home church, or meet via the internet, I am grateful for the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.  I am grateful Christ was able and willing to be our Savior and Redeemer.  I marvel to think of His great love and atoning sacrifice.  When I think of what He suffered for me, personally, I am moved to tears and want to live to cause Him as little pain as possible and repay Him by trying to become more the person He wants me to be.

        After what seemed like a very long time, but I suppose really wasn’t, I cracked and asked my son in law, Tom, to be project manager to fix my kitchen.  Which really meant he did it.  We were mostly careful about being covid cautious and he definitely stayed away from Miriam who stays in her room mostly, anyway.  A couple of the kids helped him from time to time and Ruth peeked in a couple of times, but we mostly kept a distance. No hugs.  :(  The project started with the floor.  Ten years ago or so the  rotten cabinet around the sink and worn out linoleum were replaced.  I thought it would last the rest of my life and more, but we had trouble with the floor from the beginning and the cabinets were cheap.  The work had been done by volunteers. The job leader, who actually was a professional contractor, did not respond when I told him about the problems with the floor.   So things just got worse until the floor was dangerous as well as inconvenient.  Tom and the kids took out the bad tile long before covid, so it was safer, but we were walking on some chalk-like under-floor for ages.  Life got busy and it sat. After a long time saving and a fortunate windfall, I was finally able to get started.  Replacing the floor  somehow evolved into also replacing the cabinets.  All new strong, lovely cabinets and a beautiful floor (vinyl that looks like wood) which I think actually will last my life time.  Tom is a thoughtful, careful worker.  Tom and Ruth gave me their old “built in” dishwasher and their old microwave.  It is exciting. My kitchen is beautiful, comfortable, and workable.  Makes me happy every day.

      The last couple of months have been very challenging.  Miriam’s health stabilized enough so that she could have surgery on her right foot.  The arthritis aspects of her lupus have made her hands and feet very deformed.  Is painful for her to stand or walk even briefly.  The surgery was to make her foot more normal so that eventually she can stand on it without pain or at least considerably less.  We shall see.  The recovery has been longer and more painful than I expected, but her foot is healing.  We are a long way yet from her thinking about whether it is worth going through again for her left foot.  

         Around my birthday, we got Kira, a street rescue, full of milk, having lost her puppies and her home, a stranger in a strange place.  When I saw her picture on NextDoor, she reminded me of our dog Cindy who we had when the kids were growing up and my heart went out to her.  We took her home and found out that she is not at all like Cindy, who was a very easy dog to live with.  Kira is my first experience with a husky type dog. She is at the same time both extremely needy and independently minded.  With someone who can give her the time, training, and exercise she needs, Kira could be a great dog.  Unfortunately, this is not a good time in my life for that so it is not an ideal match for her or for me. I am trying to find a good match for her.  If not, we will just muddle on. 

      Like probably most people what I miss the most is being able to see my children and grandchildren.  I have a grandson who was born right after Thanksgiving 2019 and is walking.  I have only held him two or three times since the shut down.  (and there are some who would say I should not have done that)  My family has learned to enjoy some on-line get togethers and games which  I hope we keep up even after we are able to get together.  

       2020 has been a time to think about what really matters to us.  I am grateful to know that I am a child of God and that Christ is my Savior.   I am grateful to be an American citizen.  I have a wonderful family.  I sometimes feel stressed and distressed, but all my problems are first world problems, for which I am grateful. 

       I am also thankful for my good friends.  You are a light in my life, a source of encouragement, inspiration, and laughter. 

 

I wish you love, peace, and joy 

Barbara Robarts                                                                    

sugar crash

Something new and different this evening.

Today is Fast Sunday.  I have a rather poor history of fasting.  I had many years when I was pregnant or nursing and did not fast.  Later I developed diabetes and usually did not fast.  When one would have otherwise fasted, I merely ate more simply and perhaps less.  I avoided eating treats and foods that would smell and bother those who were fasting.  I sometimes felt a little guilty as partly I used actual health concerns as an excuse not to sacrifice and practice spirit over body.  Additionally, one occasionally hears of the health benefits of fasting as a dieting live style.

Today, partly as an exercise of self control and to help with blood sugar levels and weight, I decided to fast more completely.  I admit I was less spiritually involved as a fast should be. It went well.  I skipped breakfast, only took my morning medicines with a glass of milk.  I didn't eat until when around 2 or so I began to feel low blood sugar warnings, tested at 71 and ate lightly.  I thought things had gone quite well.

Dinner was early - around 4:30.  Pot roast, barley, carrots, and broccoli. My blood sugar was 94 and I was happy with that.  I was a little worried that I might over indulge and take it up too high at dinner, but not too worried.  I did my pre-dinner insulin and medication, enjoyed dinner - lots of roast, decent amount of vegetables, moderate amount of barley.  I relaxed watching TV. 

And then I crashed.  I may have dozed as I did not feel early warning symptoms.  I started feeling way more than low sugar warnings, I definitely felt off, dizzy (although sitting), vision slightly off, anxious, weak, unsteady.  I wanted to go to my room to test but was a bit afraid.  I had trouble getting there.  In the movies sometimes you see  where everything is out of focus, tilted, maybe spinning, sound and vision are not right.  I thought that was artistic expression or something, but tonight I found out that it is real.  I barely made it to my room.  Tested at 41.  Scary.  I  took a glucose pill and some chocolate.  Tested at 56.  Still concerned and confused.  I went out of my room, not sure what I wanted, having a little trouble walking and navigating.  Joseph asked if I was ok and I told him that I was not sure.  Perceptive, he asked if it was low blood sugar and I affirmed.  I sat down and he brought me milk.  I knew that I was beginning to recover and told him so, but it was still worrisome.  Even Miriam, coming out , probably to ask for help getting her something to eat, became concerned and wanted to help me.  They were wondering when / whether to call for professional help.  I wanted to climb out of it, but was also afraid of over correcting.  Joseph sat with me back in my room for a bit watching to make sure I did  not pass out.  They did not want me to lay down and go to sleep.  I felt like it, but also wondered if it were safe.  I went back to the family room and Joseph set up for me to watch Heartland, then helped Miriam.

After an episode of Heartland, I felt pretty much normal.  We had family prayer and scripture.  I returned to my room.  Bedtime. I had slightly over corrected and my blood sugar is 196, but that is not so frightening.  High blood sugar is long term dangerous - wearing down the body like grit in motor oil, but low blood sugar can be immediately dangerous.  I feel normal inside now.

While I was crashing, staggering through the house, or sitting in the front room drinking my milk, I looked around my out of focus, but clearly chaotic and messy house - partly because of the kitchen project and partly because my homemaking/organizing skills are seriously lacking, and kept thinking "I cannot leave this mess.  I cannot leave them with this mess."  Obviously something I need to work on.

Take aways. Besides, that I need to seriously up my domestic game.

 I probably won't fast, or more likely, depending on how i feel, possibly fast one meal and eat lightly the next.  But no full or lengthy fast.  Even this one had been short - nothing close to 24 hours or two complete meals, while some people do three.  My "normal" meals should, no doubt, be lighter than they usually are.   I should eat more lightly and maybe more often or regularly all the time.

Bigger take away.  (Andrew was outside doing dishes (no kitchen sink because of the ongoing kitchen project)  so he missed most of this.  Which slightly distressed him when he found out.)  I was touched by the love and support from Joseph and Miriam, especially Joseph.  Miriam, who is usually the one that people help, and Joseph, who I am often sure does not quite like me, were concerned, caring, helpful and supportive. They really wanted me to be ok and definitely did not want something to be or become seriously wrong.   Being good people, I know that they would show the same concern and helpfulness to a stranger in trouble or even someone they really didn't like, but still I felt an element of love in their compassion.  Joseph was very nurturing.  That is a part of his nature which is why animals and children love him so, but to have it directed at me was special.

the many good things

In "The Vow" a young woman confronts her mother and demands to know why mother didn't leave father when she found out that he had cheated on her and betrayed their marriage. Mother said that she considered it and was about to leave her husband when she thought of her children, her home, and all the things she loved about the life they built together . She decided to forgive her husband and think about the many good things he had done and forget the one bad thing he did.

That would not be the right answer in every situation, I think this husband confessed, apologized, and changed, but what a great attitude - one we might do well to develop in our dealings with the less than perfect people in our lives.

Then I thought about our Redeemer, Jesus Christ, who paid the price for the many bad things we have done, forgives us when we repent, and gives us the chance to change and become better. How grateful I am for His love, compassion, and atoning sacrifice. How grateful I am that He gives us chance after chance to repent and to do good things.

What is a gentleman?

In the book “What Katy Did at School,”  Katy’s sister Clover tells their beleaguered cousin  that being a gentleman is not about how you hold your cup or wear your hat, but about being a gentle man -kind to everyone whether they are rich or poor, being honest,and good.   

On “In the Heat of the Night” a young black man tells the police chief (who just corrected his grammar) that the chief cannot make the young man into a Southern gentleman because he is not white.  The chief says being a gentleman is not about whiteness; being a gentleman is about correctness.  

What do you think it means to be a gentleman ?