Signs

Last evening we were driving to church. A couple blocks from the church my daughter asked, "Are we almost there?" Before we could answer she suddenly pointed and exclaimed, "Look! There's a sign: L-I-Q-U-O-R," she spelled, "we are almost there!" I don't know why she pointed out that sign instead of the Baskin Robbins sign across the street.

My New Hobby

I have recently started a new hobby: digital scrapbooking. It is so much fun! Most of my scrapbook pages are of my daughter but I'm working on making pages for everyone in my family and some of my friends too. If you want to see my scrapbook pages you can view them online at http://www.scrapbookflair.com/rambling_rose. I will put a link to it on the right. Here is a sample of one of the latest pages I made.

Full Moon at Noon

While we were in St. Vincent we had a surprise party for my mom’s 50th birthday. We went to a beach to have a picnic and met a fisherman who sold us some freshly caught fish. Then I took Mom out snorkeling while the rest of the family decorated the pavilion with streamers and balloons. When Mom and I got back to the pavilion she was so surprised. Some of my parents’ friends were at the party too and we were all having a great time.

Shortly after lunch however, our pleasant little party was crashed. Some European vacationers decided to have some fun at the beach too, which was fine, until they started to undress inappropriately right in front of us. One of the ladies in our group went down to them and respectfully asked the ladies to put their tops back on or go farther down the beach out of site. (St. Vincent has no nude beaches.) There was a language barrier but they understood what was being asked. One of the ladies started to redress but one of the men in her group (who was photographing the ladies) came forward to put up a fight. Mom went down to try to figure out what language they were speaking and better communicate with them. The man got very angry and acted like he was going to shove my mom but she backed off. He started yelling at us in his language and we decided to ignore them. A little while later they were getting ready to leave. Apparently the man was still angry with us because he decided to come over and yell at us one last time then he turned around and mooned us before storming off to his taxi.

How rude! Some people are so immature that all you can do is shake your head. But don’t stoop to their level. Looking back, I find the situation kind of humorous.

The rest of the party was great. We ate fresh fish cooked over an open fire, enjoyed chocolate cake, drank from coconuts, snorkeled for hours, and had a great time. One of my parent’s friends brought his boat and we were able to snorkel while holding on to the side of the boat as he took us on a tour of the reef. That was so much fun and we saw so many fish and other sea creatures. My husband, dad, brother, and sister even snorkeled in a bat cave.

It was an exciting day. Mom, I hope you enjoyed your party. And I promise, we really didn’t order the strippers.

Stories from the Caribbean

I recently returned from a trip to the Caribbean with my family. We spent two wonderful weeks in St. Vincent visiting with my parents, brother, and sister. St. Vincent is a beautiful island with sandy beaches leading to clear blue water, beautiful mountains, palm groves, and cool waterfalls. Every day was an adventure, whether we were snorkeling, hiking, walking the busy streets of Kingstown, or just driving around the island.
Driving on the narrow windy streets of St. Vincent is like riding a rollercoaster; up and down steep hills, around tight corners, abrupt stops. They drive on the left side of the road and their traffic laws are very different from here. But the drivers seemed a lot more patient than drivers here. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry and their honks were to let others know they were on the other side of a blind corner, not out of anger or impatience.

We met some really sweet people who welcomed us to their island and made us feel at home. They introduced us to many new things and delicious foods. I really enjoyed the fellowship with them.

So much happened while we were in St. Vincent that I cannot fit it all in one post so I will share more stories from the Caribbean in posts to come.

The Voice of an Angel

The lights dimmed, a hush fell over the crowd. Instruments started playing behind the curtain and a deep voice filled the place, seeming to come from everywhere. As he sang, the curtain slowly rose revealing a band and a small orchestra on a beautiful hardwood floor. Cheers erupted as Josh Groban rose up through the floor, his powerful voice crescendoing. I sat on the edge of my seat feeling the music with every part of my being. I was speechless. All I could think was “wow!” No words could describe what I was feeling. I had never heard anything so beautiful. His voice is so rich, pure and dynamic, and he sings with such expression and passion.

The first time I ever heard of Josh Groban was a few years ago when my husband told me to listen to this song on the radio because the guy had an incredible voice. So I listened to him sing “To Where You Are” and was very impressed. However, as I listened to the voice the first time I pictured an older fat man, kind of like Pavarotti. I was quite surprised when I saw his picture and he was a young good-looking man. He soon became my favorite singer.

For Christmas, my husband surprised me with tickets to a Josh Groban concert. I was so excited and finally, last Wednesday, we got to hear him live. It is an experience I will never forget. He was really funny, especially when he tried to dance and got distracted by the chicken dance. I enjoyed every song and held on to every note.

There was a violinist that caught my attention too. She was very good. At one point she played a solo. The music was pretty but I couldn't help laughing at her expressions. She looked very angry and seemed to attack the music as she played (which was fitting to the music she was playing). I leaned over to Stephen and asked if her boyfriend had broken up with her right before the performance. She looked like she was trying to kill someone.

As the concert ended, I sat quietly trying to absord the memories, his voice still ringing in my ears. It was the best concert I have ever been to. He really has the voice of an angel.

Thank you so much, Stephen, for taking me to the concert. You are the most wonderful husband in the world. And don’t be jealous, I think you are more handsome than Josh and I like to hear you sing too. He may have an incredible voice, but you have everything else, including my heart.

My Most Precious Gift

I have found what many people have spent their lives searching for and some never find. Not only that, I have found it twice, in two different ways, by two different people. What is this amazing thing that everyone wants; that those who have found it consider themselves most blessed, and those who have not found it spend their lives searching for? And how did I find it twice?

What I have found is simply love. Not temporary, conditional, selfish, false love. But the real thing; true, unconditional, faithful, eternal love. Where did I find this kind of love?

I will tell you about the second place I found this love first. I found true love in my husband, Stephen. He loves me unconditionally, in spite of my faults, and helps me grow. He loves me faithfully, staying true to the vows we made on our wedding day. He loves me eternally; I never have to fear that he'll leave me because I know that he won't. He loves me in the rough times as well as the good. He taught me what true love is and I know that I can trust him. He is also very handsome and irresistable. He loves me with the most perfect kind of love described in 1 Corinthians 13. This type of love is extremely rare and valuable and I am more than blessed to have found it.

But there is another true love I found long before I ever met my husband and it is a love that is still alive today and will last forever. It is a love even more precious and important than the one I share with my husband. (Don't worry, he's not jealous because he has this love too.) The love I am speaking of is a love with my heavenly Father and my Savior. It is a sacrificial love. I was lost in my sin and on my way to hell. But Jesus, God's own Son, died for me, paid the penalty for my sin, and then rose again from the dead, breaking the curse of death. By trusting in what He did for me, I became a child of God and have a special relationship with the One who created me. I am now complete. The void in my life is gone. And I am sure of my future after I die: an eternal home in heaven with my Savior. I can't wait to see Him face to face!

I hope that everyone finds true love. It is a precious gift. Not everyone will find true love in the sense of a soul mate. But everyone can have the second love relationship I talked about. God offers that love to every person on earth as a free gift. All you have to do is accept it.

God Is Enough

When things aren’t as they should be
God is enough.
When people you trust betray you
God is enough.
When you don’t understand
God is enough.
When you are lost and confused
God is enough.
When your world crashes down around you
God is enough.
When you don’t know what the future holds
God is enough.
When no one understands you
God is enough.
When you lose everything you work hard for
God is enough.

He sets things right.
He is faithful.
He will show you in time
He will guide you.
He fixes your world.
He is your future.
He understands.
He will reward you.
God is enough.

God is your strength.
God is your comfort.
God is your Friend.
God is your hope.
God is your leader.
God is in control.
God is all that you need.
God is enough.

Green Eggs and Ham

Do you like green eggs and ham?

I could not, would not, on a boat.
I will not, will not, with a goat.
I will not eat them in the rain.
I will not eat them on a train.
Not in the dark! Not in a tree!
Not in a car! You let me be!
I do not like them in a box.
I do not like them with a fox.
I will not eat them in a house.
I do not like them with a mouse.
I do not like them here or there.
I do not like them ANYWHERE!

You do not like them.

So you say.
Try them! Try them!
And you may.
Try them and you may, I say.

Say!
I like green eggs and ham!
I do! I like them, Sam-I-am!
And I would eat them in a boat.
And I would eat them with a goat.
And I will eat them in the rain.
And in the dark. And on a train.
They are so good, so good, you see!
So I will eat them in a box.
And I will eat them with a fox.
And I will eat them in a house.
And I will eat them with a mouse.
And I will eat them here and there.
Say! I will eat them ANYWHERE!

I do like green eggs and ham!

Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-am!

I fed my daughter green eggs and ham one morning then read Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss to her. Of course, she loves green eggs and ham! Yes she does, Sam-I -am!

My Little Big Brother

This handsome man is my brother and this post is for him. Today is Tim’s 25th birthday.

Tim, you are a quarter of a century now. Do you feel old? Well, don’t feel old. As of April you will be only half Mom’s age. (Wow, last year Heather was half Dad’s age.) They are half a century! 25 is a wonderful age. It was one of my favorite ages. You are only half way through your 20s and still young. You have your whole life ahead of you.

I have always wished I had an older brother, but since I am the oldest that couldn’t happen. But I kind of got my wish anyway through my little brother. Ever since he got bigger than me (if not before) he has acted like my big brother. Yes, he even used to boss me around. But he also looked out for me. He’s a good protective brother. I think even though he’s far away he would still look out for me.

What kind of person is my brother? Well, on the outside he looks like a tough guy (and he is) especially when he’s holding one of his many weapons. He loves martial arts and hunting. (Maybe one of the reasons I always feel safe around him. I know he can defend himself.) But under that tough exterior he is a gentleman and has a heart of compassion for others. He is dependable and hard working. Most importantly, he loves the Lord.

So Tim, am I totally embarrassing you yet? Honestly, that is not my intention and don’t worry, only about 5 or 6 people read my blog as far as I know. I just wanted to let you know that I am glad you are my brother. I couldn’t have asked for a better one. I am very proud of you. And even though you are bigger than me, you will always be my little brother.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIM!!!

Motorcycle Chick

My daughter went on her first motorcycle ride last night. Stephen took her around the circle in our gated community a few times. She loved it. All she needs now is a leather jacket and a real helmet and she'll be a real motorcycle chick.

With the wind blowing through my hair
I will ride from here to there
On my cool motor bike
I will go where e're I like

I will cruise up to the mountains
Then along the ocean shore
Drive around the city fountains
And the whole world I'll explore

With the open road before me
I like to get there quick
There's so much to go and see
I'm a motorcycle chick

Stolen Expressions

I often envy people who are talented; people who can express themselves through music or art or written words.

As I listen to music, I hear a person’s soul and emotions dance upon the notes he sings or plays. It echoes through my being and I wish I could put my feelings into beautiful music; music that would bring tears to your eyes or make your heart soar with joy and hope. Music fills me and I wish I could move with it gracefully so the beauty inside flows out.

I see a painting and know that it is so much more than a pretty picture. It is the mystery of a person. It hides within its layers secrets of the past. The colors the artist chooses give me a glimpse of his personality. The style of the painting shows his passion and the images show what he loves and cares about. I wish I could paint from my heart, revealing who I am inside or who I want to be.

Words may seem like an obvious way of expressing yourself but there is a difference between writing words on a piece of paper and using words to create another world or describe your innermost being. I wish I could make my words flow poetically or use imagery to convey my deepest thoughts or at least sound like I know what I’m talking about.

There is so much trapped inside of me and I don’t know how to let it out. My music is just noise, my movements jerky and clumsy. My paintings are senseless splotches of color and my words are meaningless mumbo jumbo. My thoughts, feelings, emotions, everything I am swirl around inside me. Joy, sadness, love, hate, compassion, anger, contentment, frustration, calm, restlessness, passion, loneliness…all bottled up in such a small space that they get mixed up, pushing and pulling me from one emotion to another until I feel like I’ve been riding a roller coaster. There is no way for me to express myself, no outlet. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. My canvas is twice as thick as when I started from the layers of paint covering up the images that were not right. Words flee my brain as my pen hovers over the blank paper.

So I try to substitute my feelings with those of another. I listen and move to music that mimics what I feel, but it is not my music. I admire paintings that look like what I would want to paint, but it is not my art hiding my secrets and revealing who I am. I read poetry and books that portray close to my thoughts and who I want to be, but they are not my words. They are merely reflections of other people while my own remain locked away inside of me longing to be released.

Click, Clack, Moo

I am writing this post for my sister, Heather. One of her recent blog posts inspired me to rewrite this childrens story. In her post she was looking for the word that you would use to describe the incorrect use of a thesaurus. I couldn't find that word. The closest word to it I found was "malapropism". So I decided to greatly misuse the thesaurus to rewrite this story. I chose this story because it is one of Heather's favorite childrens stories.

Click, Clack, Moo Cows That Type
by Doreen Cronin;
rewritten by Valinda Rees

Farmer Brown has a botheration.
His cows like to type.
All day lofty he heeds

Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.

At first, he couldn’t accredit his ears.
Cows that type?
Inconceivable!

Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.

Then he couldn’t regard his eyes.

Dear Farmer Brown,
The stable is extensively brumal at duskiness. We’d like some stimulating blankets.
Sincerely,
The Cows

It was abominable enough the cows had found the geriatric typewriter in the barn, now they demanded power-driven blankets! “No way,” said Farmer Brown. “No juiced blankets.”

So the cows went on mutiny. They marooned a dispatch on the barn portal.

Attritional. We’re sealed. No bovine extract today.

“No formula today!” blubbered Farmer Brown. In the remote, he hearkened the cows industrious at work:

Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.

The neighboring day, he implied another commentary:

Dear Farmer Brown,
The hens are glacial too. They’d like rousing blankets.
Sincerely,
The Cows

The cows were evolving petulant with the farmer. They left a new agenda on the barn door.

Bankrupt. No moo juice. No ova.

“No hen apples!” sniveled Farmer Brown. In the background he ascertained them.

Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.

“Cows that transcribe. Hens on boycott! Whoever heard of such a thing? How can I perform a farm with no cream and no embryos!” Farmer Brown was furious.

Farmer Brown got out his own typewriter.

Dear Cows and Hens,
There will be no magnetic blankets. You are cows and hens. I summon milk and eggs.
Sincerely,
Farmer Brown

Duck was a neutral party, so he accompanied the ultimatum to the cows.

The cows held a plight meeting. All the beasts gathered around the barn to interfere, but none of them could fathom moo.

All night long, Farmer Brown tarried for an answer.

Duck knocked on the door prematurely the next morning. He relinquished Farmer Brown a scratch:

Dear Farmer Brown,
We will reciprocate our typewriter for electrifying blankets. Leave them yonder the barn door and we will propel Duck over with the typewriter.
Sincerely,
The Cows

Farmer Brown ascertained this was an admirable deal. He left the blankets parallel to the barn door and anticipated for Duck to come with the typewriter.

The subsequent morning he got a diary:

Dear Farmer Brown,
The lagoon is quite arid. We’d like a diving board.
Sincerely,
The Ducks

Click, clack, quack.
Click, clack, quack.
Clickety, clack, quack.

A Tribute to Bling-bling

It is with deepest sorrow that I sit down and write this eulogy in memory of a dearly loved member of our family. I did not get to write about him when he first came into our lives so I feel I must do him this honor now that he is departed.

Bling-bling came into our lives a short two months ago on November 2, 2006. He was my daughter's first pet. She chose him out of dozens of other fish she could have had, then lovingly picked out a home for him and stones to cover his floor and plants to make him feel at home. I was so proud of her when she made him her responsibility and fed him carefully and took care of him. They soon became good friends. Before long the whole family fell in love with him and he became part of our family.

Bling-bling was not an ordinary fish. He was a handsome betta fish, with scales of amethyst and mother of pearl, and fins of the bluest sapphire. It was because of this jewel-like beauty that my daughter named him "Bling-bling". He was not a timid fish, like so many others who go into hiding whenever someone approaches, but a friendly happy fish. He eagerly swam up to greet us whenever we came near, his tail fin wagging excitedly like a puppy's tail. Full of life, he entertained us with his animated personality, showing off and playfully nipping at my fingers when I put them in the water. He brought us such joy.

During Christmas time we had to leave him in the care of a young girl while we traveled for the holidays. I'm sure she took good care of him, but when we returned and brought him back home, he was not the same. He was no longer the happy, energetic little fish he was when we left. Now he was sad and sick. What happened to our poor little Bling-bling? Did he think we had abandoned him and become sick from a broken heart? He had such a healthy appetite before and now he refused to eat anything. I tried to nurse him back to health. I sat by him, minutes at a time, trying to coax him to eat, offering encouragement, but to no avail.

He was brave to the very end. I could tell he was trying to get better. He made feeble attempts to wag his tail fin for me and even tried to swim in circles, but his movements were jerky and slow. Finally, last night, I made what became my last attempt to feed him. He was near the bottom of the bowl and made a valiant swim to the top. But it was too much for him and he nose-dived back to the bottom, his nose buried in the stones below. He tried one more time and could not make it.

This morning I checked on him but he was gone, standing on his nose between the branches of his plant. It was a heartbreaking sight. Tonight I will have to break the news to my daughter.

The funeral will be held this evening as we gather around to send him to his watery grave via the porcelain express. His life was too short.

Farewell, beloved Bling-bling. May you find peace in fish paradise where there are no predators and the clearest water and best fish food to make a fish happy. You will be missed.

* All condolences and flowers will be graciously accepted.

** Anyone who wishes to start a scholarship fund for the Alpha Betta School of Fighting Fish in honor of Bling-bling may do so with our blessing.

Bling-bling
Nov. 2, '06-Jan.11, '07
Beloved Fish