Thursday was Granddaddy's 82nd birthday! We went up to cousin Butch's for the day...I really think Granddaddy had a good time. Hopefully, we can take him to Butch's again sometime in the not too distant future. (It's a pretty long haul for an old man.)
The Birthday 'boy' with his nephew...
Once again with granddaughters and niece-in-law...
I jokingly have been calling Granddady's birthday 'the day of the cakes'. Savannah made one (a coconut cream/peanut butter cake which would make an awesome carrot cake!) When we got home, we discovered some other relatives had dropped off gifts and cake while we were gone (Granddaddy rather liked that cheesecake). Then later, Uncle Rod and the cousin's came over with a cake that Cassandra had made and decorated with homemade butter based frosting. Young Rod ate more of it than Granddaddy, but that's okay--Granddaddy had just finished supper and therefore wasn't too hungry. :)
I thought I was coming down with a cold, but thankfully, I kicked it before it really got established. I wonder how much that spoonful of honey and lemon Betty gave me helped. :D
I thought I was coming down with a cold, but thankfully, I kicked it before it really got established. I wonder how much that spoonful of honey and lemon Betty gave me helped. :D
Today we went to a Ladies' Tea at the church. I enjoyed it--we did get to meet some new people. Pastor S. talked with us a little bit, too. We ate, sang, listened to a devotional-like presentation, and talked. The presentation was about a quilt that was supposed to demonstrate things about the nature of God. Each square represented something different. Personally, I have difficulty in seeing stuff like that in quilt blocks...but maybe that's just me! I ate plenty and even though I didn't know most of the tunes or songs we sang, I attempted to belt them out--singing lower than they were being played for the most part.
On our way home, we dropped by the local "Pioneer Days" and said 'howdy' to the A.'s--who had just packed up the SCV tent...I told Mr. A. that if I forgot to bring the DVD's of the Cross Dedication to the meeting next Tuesday, that he had my permission to horse-whip me. He burst out laughing and said he thought that was a little too drastic. Anyway... :P
Then we stopped at Tractor Supply to get a sack of chick feed to hold the chickens over the weekend. I was stubbornly (good-naturedly) totedthe bag over my shoulder, turning down assistance from one of the employee's (he was doing something else anyways), and then from another costumer as he was coming in and we were standing in the checkout line. About the time we finally got checked out, he was fixing to leave and he offered again to take the bag--this time I let him. He was one of those guys that at first glance you tend to raise an eyebrow at--mainly due to his hair-do--a mohawk short on top and longish in the back--the rest of his head bald. Anyway, he was quite polite and nice. Turns out, after he loaded the bag in the trunk of the car, that he went to get into his truck and blatantly on the back window was this: US MARINE. The man's demeanor and carriage suddenly made sense. I GOT HELPED BY A MARINE!!! :)
Anyway, it was one of those times where I had to remind myself and be reminded to let a man do what I say (and really do) want men to do--be a gentleman and help out the 'damsel in distress'. Even though I was perfectly capable of carrying that 50 lb. sack of feed, I did the right thing and let the man be a man. And in the end, you know what? It feels great to be a woman! Not demeaning. Not insulting...the offer to carry that bag was anything but an insult..not degrading. Feminists (and those of us who aren't really feminists, but are used to doing stuff for ourselves and therefore reject help), don't really know what they (or we) are missing. Being treated like a lady makes one feel dignified--like she wants to be a lady. (And by lady, I don't mean a prissy snob who refuses to get her hands dirty--that kind of 'lady' I will never be--nor will I ever have any desire to be such.)
So, thank-you, Sir--whoever you are--for helping me. I appreciate it. :)
On our way home, we dropped by the local "Pioneer Days" and said 'howdy' to the A.'s--who had just packed up the SCV tent...I told Mr. A. that if I forgot to bring the DVD's of the Cross Dedication to the meeting next Tuesday, that he had my permission to horse-whip me. He burst out laughing and said he thought that was a little too drastic. Anyway... :P
Then we stopped at Tractor Supply to get a sack of chick feed to hold the chickens over the weekend. I was stubbornly (good-naturedly) totedthe bag over my shoulder, turning down assistance from one of the employee's (he was doing something else anyways), and then from another costumer as he was coming in and we were standing in the checkout line. About the time we finally got checked out, he was fixing to leave and he offered again to take the bag--this time I let him. He was one of those guys that at first glance you tend to raise an eyebrow at--mainly due to his hair-do--a mohawk short on top and longish in the back--the rest of his head bald. Anyway, he was quite polite and nice. Turns out, after he loaded the bag in the trunk of the car, that he went to get into his truck and blatantly on the back window was this: US MARINE. The man's demeanor and carriage suddenly made sense. I GOT HELPED BY A MARINE!!! :)
Anyway, it was one of those times where I had to remind myself and be reminded to let a man do what I say (and really do) want men to do--be a gentleman and help out the 'damsel in distress'. Even though I was perfectly capable of carrying that 50 lb. sack of feed, I did the right thing and let the man be a man. And in the end, you know what? It feels great to be a woman! Not demeaning. Not insulting...the offer to carry that bag was anything but an insult..not degrading. Feminists (and those of us who aren't really feminists, but are used to doing stuff for ourselves and therefore reject help), don't really know what they (or we) are missing. Being treated like a lady makes one feel dignified--like she wants to be a lady. (And by lady, I don't mean a prissy snob who refuses to get her hands dirty--that kind of 'lady' I will never be--nor will I ever have any desire to be such.)
So, thank-you, Sir--whoever you are--for helping me. I appreciate it. :)
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