Category: Life according to Angela

That cake I mentioned in my last post did not work. I baked at 325. Maybe if I baked at 350 the colors wouldn’t have had so much time to wander. It’s still pretty, but it is not what we worked to achieve.

Pet peeve alert:

In my church, we attach a “Brother” or “Sister” before the last name. Basically, we teach the youth to call their leaders by the formal, “Sister so and so” and that is all good. It gets a little more tricky with adults. I usually introduce myself as “Sister Ross” when I telephone somebody on church business. However, at a party or at the grocery store, I’ll call people from church by their first name and expect to hear my own name, too.

I have a growing pet peeve about this expected dichotomy in terms. To others, I am almost ALWAYS “Sister Ross,” whether I’m at the pool, the park, or the zoo.

I walk down the hall and someone says, “Hi, Richard; Hi, Sister Ross.” (Why does he get to be Richard and I have to be Sister Ross?)

On the phone someone will say, “Hi, Sister Ross, this is Jared.” (Hey, no fair using your first name and my church name!)

Yesterday at church, they announced the people in a musical selection, “Today we’ll hear a song from Tina Toocute, Wendy Winsome, and Sister Ross.” (I do NOT wear a bun and a cameo brooch to church. Why can’t I be Angela?)

Richard says it’s my own fault for being formal from the start. Once people hear me refer to myself as Sister Ross, that’s it. Someone once said that I live like I’m in a Jane Austen novel. Apparently I have a perception problem. People are just responding to my formal, archaic persona or they just don’t know my name.

Dear friends,

I don't live in Jane Austen's world.
I am learning to text. I have read Twilight.
It was so good. J/K LOL! If you call me Angela
or Angie now and then, I will not bristle.
I might actually give you a hug.

Thanks,
A

We’re stranded with no transportation today. There will be a lot of movie viewing and reading. There’s a heat advisory and we’ve been instructed to take it easy and drink a lot of water. And that means blogging. Apparently.

I am not prepared to play this on Sunday. I am in big trouble.

My white spray paint is jammed. My birds are not finished.

And then there is the dust. We can’t keep up.

After two years I still haven’t found the courage to add to Care’s masterpiece for my grandma. And the family keeps growing… more names…aaack! I spent an hour in the middle of the night thinking about it.

There are school books to unwrap and lesson plans to make.

And then there is this painting. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I KNOW Ray is not that color. I KNOW his hand doesn’t look like that. I KNOW the background stinks. And Ray’s smile isn’t right. Sigh.

 

Temperatures are high and I can’t seem to help Mark stop fighting. Summer is not my favorite time. I lack a FUN gene, I think.

Most mornings this month I awake to find the kids already up and well-entrenched in activities. Daniel has usually read 200 pages, walked the dog, and helped install 50 brick pavers across the street before I emerge. Pretty much. Books and magazines are popular around here before breakfast. I am enjoying the summer ritual of sleeping in, although I know that this must end. Early mornings in Arizona are the only time to get anything done.

This weekend I was just so ineffective.

But I think the upcoming week should hold some adventures. We will go birding; we’ll step foot into Mexico for a special event for a friend. We’ll swim and we’ll read and dance and build things. I will hang our Chinese lanterns out on the patio and sit outside at least one evening. We’ll pray for rain because Arizona is on fire. Join us. We can use the prayers. They canceled Girls Camp and Scout Camp because the mountains are one big tinderbox.

I hope you have a good week.

This weekend we spent one night in the ER and one night on the phone with Amazon Kindle support.

I have decided that Amazon should be in charge of our health care system.

After holding for 30 seconds, someone worked with me and my broken Kindle over the phone for over two hours. It was after midnight when the solution was found. All the time, the employee kept apologizing for the inconvenience I was experiencing with my electronic device. The Amazon employee called back this evening to make sure everything was still working. Can you believe it? The employee’s name was Carl and he cured my Kindle. Most Kindle owners can understand the bond between a person and their e-book. I feel so relieved and pampered.

Contrast that with the ER personnel we dealt with. Our wait time was short, according to ER standards: only 2 hours.  They were abrupt and ultimately not helpful. No one made a follow-up call to see if our kid was feeling any better. Although we spent 3 hours in the emergency room, we had 15 minutes with the payment guy and 5 minutes with a doctor. I realize a cure or a diagnosis is not always possible, but I think the doctor could learn some lessons in customer service from Carl.

Carl would have said, “I’m so sorry you’re experiencing difficulties. Thank you for choosing this hospital. We’ll do all we can to make you as comfortable as possible.”

And, “Would it be okay if I called back tomorrow evening to see how you are feeling?”

Or, “I’m so sorry you waited two hours for me to come.”

Carl, YOU should consider practicing medicine!

P.S.: The kid is okay!

Much of this month I have felt like “too little butter spread over too much bread.” I don’t count myself as being remarkable in this feeling; I think it’s universally acknowledged that motherhood makes a person stretch. I have been tossed two new balls to juggle: baseball and a new church responsibility. New church callings always throw me off balance a while. Then I settle in and things become easier. I’m just trying to push through this rough spot.

I keep deleting grumpy sentences as I write this, so I will stop and wish you a well-balanced life this week, which is what I think will bring me and you the most happiness.

 

 

 

 

The other day on the radio I heard a person discussing the value of meditation on mental health. He was advocating yoga and he sited a study where they found that people who devoted 27 minutes each day to meditation literally changed their brain. The memory center of the brain became more effective and the emotional center became more regulated. In other words, people who meditated had better memory and fewer emotional ups and downs.

Now I feel validated in my habit of resting each evening before bed, thinking (or not) and showing a blank look on my face. People who have to live with me know what I’m talking about. It’s an emotional survival skill that I developed early in my life.

I also eat sweets late at night to avoid modeling this kind of behavior for my kids. And yes, it helps me a great deal, too.