Posts
Well, today a girl from church who's never really spoken to me before spoke to me. This is strange. Judging by the fact that she mainly asked me questions about schoolwork, I think she was probably told to ask me about it by her mother. Yes, I'm suspicious like that. However, there are some alternative—although rather more far-fetched—reasons as to why she talked to me.
There's just a little bit of background information you need to know before I get to these far fetched reasons. There was a sporty event to do with the church yesterday; we played football and basketball, then went round to this girl's parents' house for pizza. And ice cream, as it turns out.
And the reason we've never spoken before was half and half, really. Neither of us bothered to speak to the other. But here are the more far fetched reasons.
1. She was impressed by my sporting prowess yesterday. I will digress here to explain what I did.
I successfully redirected the ball in football. I was standing there, and someone kicked the ball. I didn't have time to move, and it bounced off my thigh in the direction of the other team's goal (which is the right direction).
I ran very fast during the football game, all in the noble cause of saving life (the fact that it happened to be mine, is neither here nor there). About six men and boys were running towards me like a herd of buffalo in pursuit of a small round thing which is commonly known as a football. I'm afraid I took one look at them and turned and ran away, because my self preservation instincts kicked in. It was very scary, see?
I scored two goals during the football game. One was during the girls only five minutes. I'm not sure why one of these was needed, as the men and boys were doing a brilliant job and that should have been encouraged by allowing them to continue. Yes, it was a mixed game but most of the girls were standing around in the middle of the pitch watching. For some strange reason the men and boys didn't seem to mind: they collapsed panting, glad of a rest. Anyway, I scored this goal. I half-heartedly kicked the ball in what was sort of the right direction and it rolled into the corner of the net.
The second was when our side had to have a penalty kick. The person in charge said that a girl had to take it. Of the four girls in our team of seven, two were standing at the side chatting. The other one pushed me forward. Happily for me, my brother was in goal. I walked up to the ball and kicked it away from the center, where my brother was standing. It went in.
In basketball, I bounced the ball half the length of the court.
There you are, the record of my sporting 'prowess'. I never claimed to be any good at it, and spent most of the time running round getting in people's way.
Strange as it may seem, this is actually a semi viable reason. This other girl stood around chatting for some of the time, and once when the ball happened to be near her she took about three steps away from it. There was no one else near her at the time.
2. She thought that I was mean and nasty. After I didn't kick or otherwise mutilate their dog (a lovely big Burmese mountain dog, or something), she realized that I was reasonably nice after all. Or, alternatively, after I didn't kick, punch, or otherwise attack a certain person who was exclaiming about how wonderful pink sprinkly things for the top of the ice cream were when I was waiting to get at said ice cream toppings, she realized that I was extremely nice, very patient, and incredibly good at hiding my feelings. These feelings were of mild annoyance, since it is impossible to be angry with someone who takes a delight in pink thingys for the top of ice cream.
3. She thought that I was some kind of witch. After seeing that I like cheese and tomato pizza, and that ice cream wafers crunch when I eat them, and that I cannot eat chocolate cake without getting crumbs up my fingernails, she decided that I was some kind of normal person, and therefore not scary.
4. She thought that I had drawn a line on my nose with red pen, and needed an excuse to have a closer look. Don't worry, I haven't; my baby sister scratched my nose and left me with a scratch.
5. Her sister dared her to talk to me. And then she had to. Shush. Listen. I know all about rivalry between big sisters and their younger sisters. Unlikely as it seems, it is plausible.
6. I put a spell on her, and then she had to talk to me. HAAAAAAAA. Haaa. Be nice to me, very nice...
No, I stick by the reason I first mentioned; her mother most probably told her to ask me about school work. I only told her what I'd tell anyone else; in fact, less. I was so shocked and surprised that she was talking to me that I accidentally muddled the letters up in an abbreviation. Oops. That's why you shouldn't put me on the spot and ask me questions, as I'm erratic with the answers. I seem to remember telling her that there were only two subjects I'd consider studying at university, too.
Oh well. It's a mystery that I'll probably never really know the answer to.
Sunday, 30 September 2007
Thursday, 27 September 2007
Apology of a blog
I'm tired. Take note. Very tired. And I don't have anything to write about, apart from the 40 odd eggs in the fridge, the fact that my sister has a cold, the fact that having to spend almost eleven years with a brother is enough to make anyone tired, the fact that tiredness is not actually an excuse to get out of doing things like my brother seems to think it is, the fact that the NHS hasn't really enough time to waste on my mum when they shouldn't take over an hour to do what's basically a brief chat, and the fact that Brown's comrades are suggesting that they should rewrite history to plot how the Muslims have been vital in our nation over the centuries.
I'm really interested to know how they've been vital. Fifty years ago they were pretty rare here. Five hundred years or so ago, they'd have probably been...erm...how do you politely put "burnt as heretics"? However, from the article that didn't appear to be the sort of thing they've got in mind. One other thing I'd like to know is how, if these supposed 'strands' have been lost we know they even existed in the first place? Arguably, the schools are the place to influence the nation's thinking...I won't go on about how worrying it is that they're suggesting that they should change history. I'm sure you know it all already.
But the problem is that Britain was not an inclusive nation until very recently...so why rewrite history to make it something that it isn't?
Is Brown brainwashing...but hey, why not? Brown arguably isn't black or white, but some different shade. It's almost as good as grey. And after all, if you want labour (blood, sweat and tears, sadly), you have to persuade the people to work for you...what better way than make them little more than robots, not dreaming of putting a foot out of line?
Right. I'm going to optimistic instead of pessimistic. We have forty odd eggs in the fridge. On Sunday, we were given forty two eggs by some people. That was ...kind... of them. I don't really like eggs. I anticipate that the rest of my family will eventually eat them, and I won't have to touch them. Which is good.
And now I've been both pessimistic and optimistic, I feel that I've said enough for one day.
I'm really interested to know how they've been vital. Fifty years ago they were pretty rare here. Five hundred years or so ago, they'd have probably been...erm...how do you politely put "burnt as heretics"? However, from the article that didn't appear to be the sort of thing they've got in mind. One other thing I'd like to know is how, if these supposed 'strands' have been lost we know they even existed in the first place? Arguably, the schools are the place to influence the nation's thinking...I won't go on about how worrying it is that they're suggesting that they should change history. I'm sure you know it all already.
But the problem is that Britain was not an inclusive nation until very recently...so why rewrite history to make it something that it isn't?
Is Brown brainwashing...but hey, why not? Brown arguably isn't black or white, but some different shade. It's almost as good as grey. And after all, if you want labour (blood, sweat and tears, sadly), you have to persuade the people to work for you...what better way than make them little more than robots, not dreaming of putting a foot out of line?
Right. I'm going to optimistic instead of pessimistic. We have forty odd eggs in the fridge. On Sunday, we were given forty two eggs by some people. That was ...kind... of them. I don't really like eggs. I anticipate that the rest of my family will eventually eat them, and I won't have to touch them. Which is good.
And now I've been both pessimistic and optimistic, I feel that I've said enough for one day.
Monday, 24 September 2007
More on prophecy
As prophecy seems to be the latest worthy topic of conversation, here is more about prophecy in response to Ant's latest post. I am now out of my depth, never really having thought about prophecy before apart from it being something that used to happen and doesn't now.
I’ve never seen the word prophecy used to mean God speaking to a believer and sharing with them something He wishes them to share with others. That seems a strange way of using it indeed. However, defining it that way takes quite a bit of the nastiness away from the word. It’s also interesting that you claim it’s different from Old Testament prophecy. Surely if that’s so, it would be called something else to avoid confusion? Surely God wouldn’t change the definitions of things just for fun?
It’s interesting that you then go on to say that prophecy does not mean preaching. It’s almost as if you’re suggesting that prophecy is God telling the Believer something new (in which case it is exactly the same as Old Testament prophecy, because I always understood the prophets to give revelations from God to Israel), which that person is then expected to share with others. There are problems with this; surely God said all he needed to say in the Bible? Why share stuff with some Christians and not with others? This is opening the door to the formation of cults: someone convinces other people that they have received further instructions from God than those written in the Bible, and then everything follows from there.
Of course, you may be simply referring to a sort of nudge God sometimes gives to people to say do this, do that. Say this, say that. But I’d have classified that as more a still small voice type of thing. And in fact, you cannot be referring to this. Receiving this sort of nudge is no guarantee that what one says is going to be perfect. And surely if it comes from God, it must be perfect? I’m afraid that if someone told me something and said it was a prophecy, I’d expect it to be 100% correct (see Deuteronomy 18:19-22, as mentioned in a previous post. Or don’t. If New Testament prophecy is somehow a different kettle of fish from Old Testament prophecy, maybe that verse doesn’t apply to it.). Maybe I just expect too much.
As to fortune telling counterfeiting real prophecy, of course that’s the way it works! This is the very reason why we must be so careful, with so many counterfeits about. However, who’s to say that the Satanic hasn’t got into the church and isn’t corrupting it? Remember, in the last days there will be many false prophets: Mark 13:22 states it very clearly. For false Christs and false prophets will arise, and shall show signs and wonders, to seduce, if it were possible, even the very elect. No where are we informed that the difference is as clear cut as in church, everything’s fine; outside church, everything’s wrong. It just isn’t like that; not today, anyhow. We have too much of the world in the church today, hence why you read of churches who’ve developed a way of teaching Biblical truths through Harry Potter.
If prophecy is meant to reveal the secret, hidden things, I’d rather stay clear of it. They’re not meant to be revealed! Deuteronomy 29:29 states The secret things belong unto the LORD our God: but those things which were revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we many do all the words of this law. If they belong to God, personally I’m not touching them, as I would consider it very risky indeed. As for 1 Corinthians 14:24-25, it would seem that that in fact refers to the fact that an unbeliever will see God in those who prophesy, and this unbeliever will then see his heart for what it is. So therefore prophecy is, in fact, preaching?
You say that you look for people being drawn closer to God by prophecy. How exactly does that work? If you’re prophesying, isn’t there a danger that people will join you because they like the prophecies, and not because they love God? Crowds followed Jesus because he performed miracles, and then they all turned against him and had him crucified. Also, isn’t there the danger that someone will get something wrong (shouldn’t really be possible if they were an Old Testament prophet, but we’re working off the assumption that New Testament prophets are different and allowed to get things wrong) and that therefore some people will be turned away because the goods didn’t match up to the description? Doesn’t that sort of thing just give those who are skeptical a further excuse to run away from Christianity?
On to prophecy workshops. I didn’t expressly state that they are wrong, although they may well be. I just saw some things which gave me cause for concern in your description of them, that’s all!
As regards to a Biblical environment, on closer reflection I don’t actually think that’s relevant. I would suggest replacing it with the term “Biblical lifestyle”. And there is indeed a Biblical lifestyle; that can be described as one which aims to follow the principles set out in the Bible. And that leads us on to the Biblical environment, which I would describe as one in which the vast majority of people are seeking to live a Biblical lifestyle. So my statement about expecting God to work in a Biblical environment is semi-trash, and half false. Who am I to dictate in what environment God works?
As to what makes your gathering un-Biblical, how should I know? I did suggest that it was, but then again I was suggesting that the prophecy business wasn’t Biblical. From that I can only assume that there are other things about it which I would consider un-Biblical. I would, however, suggest that the music might be a good place to start looking for un-Biblical components. If the music is wonky, everything else is wonky...if the music goes downhill, the teaching goes follows, in my experience. And you have to admit that modern songs have next to no Scripture verses referenced in them when you compare them with the old hymns. I can only conclude that’s something to do with the music, and I also conclude that if the song quality goes down, the teaching will go down. It’s not necessarily true, but it’s certainly a pretty good general rule.
You ask if I’m in danger of considering my background and experience Biblical, and everything else wrong. You also ask if I’m in danger of imposing on God what I consider to be appropriate. I would agree with you that I am in danger of both of these. However, am I supposed to just swallow everything everyone tells me about God and the Bible? My background and experience, as well as the Bible and other, external information, is all I have to determine if something is Biblical or not! If I see a Christian doing something that goes against the beliefs I hold, I will question it! Sometimes I will suggest that it’s wrong outright, other times I will just ask questions. But questioning is the order of the day. Before someone suggests that I should question my experience and background, I would suggest that I do that indirectly by questioning things which go against it.
As for the ESV translation of 1 Thessalonians 5:19-22, that seems to give the impression that all we should test are prophecies. That’s not so. Romans 12:2 says And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God.
I don’t want to muzzle God either (in fact, I doubt I could muzzle God!), but we must be very cautious.
I’ve never seen the word prophecy used to mean God speaking to a believer and sharing with them something He wishes them to share with others. That seems a strange way of using it indeed. However, defining it that way takes quite a bit of the nastiness away from the word. It’s also interesting that you claim it’s different from Old Testament prophecy. Surely if that’s so, it would be called something else to avoid confusion? Surely God wouldn’t change the definitions of things just for fun?
It’s interesting that you then go on to say that prophecy does not mean preaching. It’s almost as if you’re suggesting that prophecy is God telling the Believer something new (in which case it is exactly the same as Old Testament prophecy, because I always understood the prophets to give revelations from God to Israel), which that person is then expected to share with others. There are problems with this; surely God said all he needed to say in the Bible? Why share stuff with some Christians and not with others? This is opening the door to the formation of cults: someone convinces other people that they have received further instructions from God than those written in the Bible, and then everything follows from there.
Of course, you may be simply referring to a sort of nudge God sometimes gives to people to say do this, do that. Say this, say that. But I’d have classified that as more a still small voice type of thing. And in fact, you cannot be referring to this. Receiving this sort of nudge is no guarantee that what one says is going to be perfect. And surely if it comes from God, it must be perfect? I’m afraid that if someone told me something and said it was a prophecy, I’d expect it to be 100% correct (see Deuteronomy 18:19-22, as mentioned in a previous post. Or don’t. If New Testament prophecy is somehow a different kettle of fish from Old Testament prophecy, maybe that verse doesn’t apply to it.). Maybe I just expect too much.
As to fortune telling counterfeiting real prophecy, of course that’s the way it works! This is the very reason why we must be so careful, with so many counterfeits about. However, who’s to say that the Satanic hasn’t got into the church and isn’t corrupting it? Remember, in the last days there will be many false prophets: Mark 13:22 states it very clearly. For false Christs and false prophets will arise, and shall show signs and wonders, to seduce, if it were possible, even the very elect. No where are we informed that the difference is as clear cut as in church, everything’s fine; outside church, everything’s wrong. It just isn’t like that; not today, anyhow. We have too much of the world in the church today, hence why you read of churches who’ve developed a way of teaching Biblical truths through Harry Potter.
If prophecy is meant to reveal the secret, hidden things, I’d rather stay clear of it. They’re not meant to be revealed! Deuteronomy 29:29 states The secret things belong unto the LORD our God: but those things which were revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we many do all the words of this law. If they belong to God, personally I’m not touching them, as I would consider it very risky indeed. As for 1 Corinthians 14:24-25, it would seem that that in fact refers to the fact that an unbeliever will see God in those who prophesy, and this unbeliever will then see his heart for what it is. So therefore prophecy is, in fact, preaching?
You say that you look for people being drawn closer to God by prophecy. How exactly does that work? If you’re prophesying, isn’t there a danger that people will join you because they like the prophecies, and not because they love God? Crowds followed Jesus because he performed miracles, and then they all turned against him and had him crucified. Also, isn’t there the danger that someone will get something wrong (shouldn’t really be possible if they were an Old Testament prophet, but we’re working off the assumption that New Testament prophets are different and allowed to get things wrong) and that therefore some people will be turned away because the goods didn’t match up to the description? Doesn’t that sort of thing just give those who are skeptical a further excuse to run away from Christianity?
On to prophecy workshops. I didn’t expressly state that they are wrong, although they may well be. I just saw some things which gave me cause for concern in your description of them, that’s all!
As regards to a Biblical environment, on closer reflection I don’t actually think that’s relevant. I would suggest replacing it with the term “Biblical lifestyle”. And there is indeed a Biblical lifestyle; that can be described as one which aims to follow the principles set out in the Bible. And that leads us on to the Biblical environment, which I would describe as one in which the vast majority of people are seeking to live a Biblical lifestyle. So my statement about expecting God to work in a Biblical environment is semi-trash, and half false. Who am I to dictate in what environment God works?
As to what makes your gathering un-Biblical, how should I know? I did suggest that it was, but then again I was suggesting that the prophecy business wasn’t Biblical. From that I can only assume that there are other things about it which I would consider un-Biblical. I would, however, suggest that the music might be a good place to start looking for un-Biblical components. If the music is wonky, everything else is wonky...if the music goes downhill, the teaching goes follows, in my experience. And you have to admit that modern songs have next to no Scripture verses referenced in them when you compare them with the old hymns. I can only conclude that’s something to do with the music, and I also conclude that if the song quality goes down, the teaching will go down. It’s not necessarily true, but it’s certainly a pretty good general rule.
You ask if I’m in danger of considering my background and experience Biblical, and everything else wrong. You also ask if I’m in danger of imposing on God what I consider to be appropriate. I would agree with you that I am in danger of both of these. However, am I supposed to just swallow everything everyone tells me about God and the Bible? My background and experience, as well as the Bible and other, external information, is all I have to determine if something is Biblical or not! If I see a Christian doing something that goes against the beliefs I hold, I will question it! Sometimes I will suggest that it’s wrong outright, other times I will just ask questions. But questioning is the order of the day. Before someone suggests that I should question my experience and background, I would suggest that I do that indirectly by questioning things which go against it.
As for the ESV translation of 1 Thessalonians 5:19-22, that seems to give the impression that all we should test are prophecies. That’s not so. Romans 12:2 says And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God.
I don’t want to muzzle God either (in fact, I doubt I could muzzle God!), but we must be very cautious.
Friday, 21 September 2007
Glorified Fortune Tellers
Please do not flay me. Please do not eat me alive. Please do not jump on me. And don't shoot at my head, though I will poke it above the parapet in prime shooting position.
Yes, that's right. As is my wont, again I just cannot sit on my hands for any longer. Sorry folks. Those of a delicate and sensitive disposition might just want to go away now. The good news, however, is that today I'm not talking about bins. I know it's the wrong time for me to talk about this, but I suspect there will never be a right time.
Now, take note. I am what you would refer to as a fundamental Christian, not a charismatic.
And with all that out of the way, I will begin.
I cannot but help feel there is something very wrong when a description of a supposed church activity sounds more like a meeting of fortune tellers peering into their crystal balls. I cannot help but feel very worried indeed when such goings on would be laughed to scorn and dismissed as superstition by Christians if they occurred outside the church, yet inside the church they are described as prophecy. While not wanting to sound like a spoil sport and grumpy old grandmother, it is very odd indeed. And when everyone else is saying how great it is, it leaves me wondering where their caution has gone. It is most blatantly not wrong to be cautious.
Since when have Christians got together and prophesied to one another? Since when have they sat there listening to little voices and stuff running around their head? In the New Testament, we find them explaining the Word of God to each other, and using that to build each other up. We do not find them engaging in what I can only describe as mystic mind exercises. They prayed, agonized over decisions, and read the Word of God for guidance. Simple stuff, I know. But they saw no need whatsoever for more. I cannot emphasize too highly that they never went to workshops to learn how to 'prophecy'.
And indeed, why does one need to learn how to prophecy at all? If it comes from God, surely one doesn't need any training in it? Am I missing some vital point here? If one studies the Old Testament prophets, one sees that at no time at all did they raise themselves to be prophets. They presumed no such thing. In all cases, they were sent of God. Surely it's presumptive to go to a workshop to learn how to prophecy?
One also notes that the Old Testament prophets gave incredibly detailed prophecies. And one has to remember that the penalty for them getting it wrong was death. That's right, death. They had no leeway at all. Deuteronomy 18:20-22 states in black and white that almost harsh truth: But the prophet, which shall presume to speak a word in my name, which I have not commanded him to speak, or that shall speak in the name of other gods, even that prophet shall die. And if thou say in thine heart, How shall we know the word which the LORD hath not spoken? When a prophet speaketh in the name of the LORD, if the thing follow not, nor come to pass, that is the thing which the LORD hath not spoken, but the prophet hath spoken it presumptuously: thou shalt not be afraid of him.
We do not find this repealed in the New Testament. We do not find any such thing. Therefore, I only hope that all these people of today that claim to prophecy are willing to be judged by the same standard. And if they're not, then obviously they're not certain it's come from God. And with uncertainty on this point, why spread it around? That strikes me as the height of irresponsibility.
Of course, it's always possible that charismatics use the word "prophesy" in a way that's different from its original meaning. That, however, strikes me as a little silly. Surely, if they did that, they could see that poor idiots like me wouldn't realise there was any difference?
And now, I'd like to mention in passing that Elijah was spoken to by a still small voice (see I Kings 19:11 on). That right, folks. A still small voice. That's no crowd.
Now, however, on. We shall see what the New Testament has to say about prophets. Matthew 24:24 is quite clear: For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect.
There are other very similar verses which I am willing to find if anyone requests them. It is, however, late now (read as I can't be bothered.) All it's important to know is that the New Testament has very clear warnings about false prophets, which shall arise in the last days.
As Christians, we are required to weigh things against God's Word. It would be folly not to. If God gives us the Bible and a handful of brain cells, He expects us to put them to good use. Indeed, we are told to prove all things; hold fast to that which is good. Abstain from all appearance of evil. (1 Thessalonians 5:21-22)
In closing, note that I'm not denying that God can indeed work through means like the ones I am attacking. He can work in many ways. However, I would expect Him to work in a Biblical environment rather than one which, quite frankly, doesn't appear at all Biblical. Sorry. I agree that I'm a heretic and all the rest of it. I view these charismatic prophets as nothing but glorified fortune tellers, as should be plain by now.
Thoughts, people? Speak them! It's no good me writing and you disagreeing if you don't make your disagreements known.
Yes, that's right. As is my wont, again I just cannot sit on my hands for any longer. Sorry folks. Those of a delicate and sensitive disposition might just want to go away now. The good news, however, is that today I'm not talking about bins. I know it's the wrong time for me to talk about this, but I suspect there will never be a right time.
Now, take note. I am what you would refer to as a fundamental Christian, not a charismatic.
And with all that out of the way, I will begin.
I cannot but help feel there is something very wrong when a description of a supposed church activity sounds more like a meeting of fortune tellers peering into their crystal balls. I cannot help but feel very worried indeed when such goings on would be laughed to scorn and dismissed as superstition by Christians if they occurred outside the church, yet inside the church they are described as prophecy. While not wanting to sound like a spoil sport and grumpy old grandmother, it is very odd indeed. And when everyone else is saying how great it is, it leaves me wondering where their caution has gone. It is most blatantly not wrong to be cautious.
Since when have Christians got together and prophesied to one another? Since when have they sat there listening to little voices and stuff running around their head? In the New Testament, we find them explaining the Word of God to each other, and using that to build each other up. We do not find them engaging in what I can only describe as mystic mind exercises. They prayed, agonized over decisions, and read the Word of God for guidance. Simple stuff, I know. But they saw no need whatsoever for more. I cannot emphasize too highly that they never went to workshops to learn how to 'prophecy'.
And indeed, why does one need to learn how to prophecy at all? If it comes from God, surely one doesn't need any training in it? Am I missing some vital point here? If one studies the Old Testament prophets, one sees that at no time at all did they raise themselves to be prophets. They presumed no such thing. In all cases, they were sent of God. Surely it's presumptive to go to a workshop to learn how to prophecy?
One also notes that the Old Testament prophets gave incredibly detailed prophecies. And one has to remember that the penalty for them getting it wrong was death. That's right, death. They had no leeway at all. Deuteronomy 18:20-22 states in black and white that almost harsh truth: But the prophet, which shall presume to speak a word in my name, which I have not commanded him to speak, or that shall speak in the name of other gods, even that prophet shall die. And if thou say in thine heart, How shall we know the word which the LORD hath not spoken? When a prophet speaketh in the name of the LORD, if the thing follow not, nor come to pass, that is the thing which the LORD hath not spoken, but the prophet hath spoken it presumptuously: thou shalt not be afraid of him.
We do not find this repealed in the New Testament. We do not find any such thing. Therefore, I only hope that all these people of today that claim to prophecy are willing to be judged by the same standard. And if they're not, then obviously they're not certain it's come from God. And with uncertainty on this point, why spread it around? That strikes me as the height of irresponsibility.
Of course, it's always possible that charismatics use the word "prophesy" in a way that's different from its original meaning. That, however, strikes me as a little silly. Surely, if they did that, they could see that poor idiots like me wouldn't realise there was any difference?
And now, I'd like to mention in passing that Elijah was spoken to by a still small voice (see I Kings 19:11 on). That right, folks. A still small voice. That's no crowd.
Now, however, on. We shall see what the New Testament has to say about prophets. Matthew 24:24 is quite clear: For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect.
There are other very similar verses which I am willing to find if anyone requests them. It is, however, late now (read as I can't be bothered.) All it's important to know is that the New Testament has very clear warnings about false prophets, which shall arise in the last days.
As Christians, we are required to weigh things against God's Word. It would be folly not to. If God gives us the Bible and a handful of brain cells, He expects us to put them to good use. Indeed, we are told to prove all things; hold fast to that which is good. Abstain from all appearance of evil. (1 Thessalonians 5:21-22)
In closing, note that I'm not denying that God can indeed work through means like the ones I am attacking. He can work in many ways. However, I would expect Him to work in a Biblical environment rather than one which, quite frankly, doesn't appear at all Biblical. Sorry. I agree that I'm a heretic and all the rest of it. I view these charismatic prophets as nothing but glorified fortune tellers, as should be plain by now.
Thoughts, people? Speak them! It's no good me writing and you disagreeing if you don't make your disagreements known.
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Right...
Apparently I'm too scared to take bins round to the front of the house...
Mum genuinely thought that I was...
I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. That's just the height of pessimism.
I think I'll compromise and tell you all about the rubbish rubbish removal service we have here. (I'm not sure if rubbish removal service is the correct way of describing it, but who cares.) If they cut the bin removal services any more, they'll stop totally. Here, we have to pay them extra to take the garden rubbish away. And then, all they provide you with is a sturdy bag. Some people pay for this, and others just compost it. We compost it.
Then they decided that it was too much trouble to take away normal rubbish every week. They decided that they'd give people bigger bins instead, and collect it every two weeks. We already used a bigger bin. I have no idea how old our big bin is, but it's at least fourteen years old. It's been around for as long as I can remember, so it's pretty safe to assume that it came with the house. In fact, we used to have two big black bins that size. I'm not sure what happened to the other one. I think it got replaced with a smaller bin.
As well as this, they also decided that all extra bins had to be authorized. I kid you not. Mum had to write to their department which deals with angry woman who have only had one bin emptied when they put out two and tell them exactly why she wanted to put an extra bin out. They then sent her a sticker to put on the extra bin (a small one). I've forgotten exactly what we told them, but I think it was something along the lines that we were a fairly large family (six), we have a small baby and therefore have to dispose of nappies, and that we always put a large bin out every week anyway.
They do come once every week, though. The second week, they take away recyclable rubbish. They provided a big brown bin for this. The strange thing is that you're allowed to put out as many bins of recyclable rubbish as you like. I'm not joking. To be perfectly respectful, they're idiots. Everyone has more non recyclable rubbish (well, everyone I know does!) I understand it's something along the lines of a prosecutable offense if you put the wrong rubbish in your recyclables bin, which doesn't exactly encourage you to put anything in it. Not only this, but they keep changing what they're prepared to recycle.
And then, there's the bin police...
Okay. Okay. Bin police is a tad dramatic. I hear they will soon be put into different jobs, they may have been already. But seriously, why employ people to wander around looking in other people's recycling bins? I hear that they put a yellow warning sticker on it and note down your house for next time. I believe the second time they put a red sticker on it and it then doesn't get collected. I understand that if you repeatedly 'offend', they knock on your door and talk to you about what you're allowed to put in your bins.
I haven't seen them around here, but then our bins get collected early (about 7 in the morning!) since the new system came in. That's the one good thing about it...and sometimes that's bad, since if you forget to put them out the day before you have to get up really early.
Mum genuinely thought that I was...
I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. That's just the height of pessimism.
I think I'll compromise and tell you all about the rubbish rubbish removal service we have here. (I'm not sure if rubbish removal service is the correct way of describing it, but who cares.) If they cut the bin removal services any more, they'll stop totally. Here, we have to pay them extra to take the garden rubbish away. And then, all they provide you with is a sturdy bag. Some people pay for this, and others just compost it. We compost it.
Then they decided that it was too much trouble to take away normal rubbish every week. They decided that they'd give people bigger bins instead, and collect it every two weeks. We already used a bigger bin. I have no idea how old our big bin is, but it's at least fourteen years old. It's been around for as long as I can remember, so it's pretty safe to assume that it came with the house. In fact, we used to have two big black bins that size. I'm not sure what happened to the other one. I think it got replaced with a smaller bin.
As well as this, they also decided that all extra bins had to be authorized. I kid you not. Mum had to write to their department which deals with angry woman who have only had one bin emptied when they put out two and tell them exactly why she wanted to put an extra bin out. They then sent her a sticker to put on the extra bin (a small one). I've forgotten exactly what we told them, but I think it was something along the lines that we were a fairly large family (six), we have a small baby and therefore have to dispose of nappies, and that we always put a large bin out every week anyway.
They do come once every week, though. The second week, they take away recyclable rubbish. They provided a big brown bin for this. The strange thing is that you're allowed to put out as many bins of recyclable rubbish as you like. I'm not joking. To be perfectly respectful, they're idiots. Everyone has more non recyclable rubbish (well, everyone I know does!) I understand it's something along the lines of a prosecutable offense if you put the wrong rubbish in your recyclables bin, which doesn't exactly encourage you to put anything in it. Not only this, but they keep changing what they're prepared to recycle.
And then, there's the bin police...
Okay. Okay. Bin police is a tad dramatic. I hear they will soon be put into different jobs, they may have been already. But seriously, why employ people to wander around looking in other people's recycling bins? I hear that they put a yellow warning sticker on it and note down your house for next time. I believe the second time they put a red sticker on it and it then doesn't get collected. I understand that if you repeatedly 'offend', they knock on your door and talk to you about what you're allowed to put in your bins.
I haven't seen them around here, but then our bins get collected early (about 7 in the morning!) since the new system came in. That's the one good thing about it...and sometimes that's bad, since if you forget to put them out the day before you have to get up really early.
Monday, 17 September 2007
On siblings
As you can probably tell, I'm in a more buoyant mood than I was yesterday. Anyway, here are some examples which prove just how mad my sister is.
1. "Load of twaddle." You can't say that she beats about the bush. This is what she said when I remarked that the cheese tasted like cows smell. I'm informed that makes no sense at all. Oh well.
2. "You cheated; you made me laugh." This is what she said when it was proven that her claim that she could out stare me was false. Apparently she's good at out staring people. (Yes, I know it's rude to stare.) And she claims that I started laughing first, and then she had to laugh. Because she blinked first, she lost the game. I will state now that I would not have laughed had she not looked so much like a frog while staring at me.
3. "And have you pronounced that correctly?" The word in question was Mahershalalhashbaz; we were saying it would be fun to give that name to a little boy. I did. I can even spell it correctly. She typed it into google to find out if I'd spelt it correctly. I had. She then tried to claim that I actually said "Mahershalalhashbash". We still differ on what I actually said. We had to agree to differ.
4. Me to her: "And do you know how to spell Chile?" She did. Then she tried to claim that I didn't; giving as proof that I asked her if she knew how to spell it. Perfectly reasonable, I know. But I only asked because she'd just spelt out "chilly" to dad because when she said it was chilly outside, he replied that it wasn't Chile, it was England. *rolls eyes*
5. I'm informing you now that tomorrow morning, someone needs to bake some bread. Mum won't do this; she spends all her time at the moment lying on the sofa. (It's a lot quieter and there's a more relaxed atmosphere in the house now. I'm not sure if the two are related...) There is a good reason for all this lying on the sofa. I don't know why she chooses to lie on the sofa and not upstairs, but that's her choice. I will probably bake the bread, if I feel like it. If I don't, I'll persuade my sister to do so. (See, it did have something to do with the topic.)
6. Brothers are completely different from sisters. My brother refused to put some frozen vegetables in a saucepan earlier. He claimed that as he didn't like them, he shouldn't have to prepare them for cooking. It's not horrendously hard to take them and put them in a saucepan, but there you are. It's way to difficult for my brother.
7. This is the same boy who expertly cooks himself a fried breakfast in the morning when he feels like it. I am not joking. Believe me, I don't make things like this up for your amusement.
8. He also thinks it clever to lock the door when you go outside. Then he has pangs of conscience and unlocks it. So when you go in, you have to fight your way through a little brat standing in front of the door.
9. He also claimed yesterday that he had to go to church because my sister was going. This was good, because I'd been telling him that he was going to go to church all afternoon. And I was right. Even better, I didn't have to drag him along.
It's fascinating seeing how siblings all relate to each other. My sister and I have this very relaxed and placid way of dealing with each other. Half the time we play act to a horrendous degree. We've got it down to a fine art. We respond to subtle cues, and very subtly egg each other on to the heights of madness. Oh yes. It's most interesting to watch. Even worse, not only can we do this, but latest on the agenda seems to be teaching impressionable younger cousins to react to subtle cues as well. Hence what starts as one thing quite often ends as another. That's right, at the beginning we're all perfectly serious. At the end, we're almost dying with laughter. And for those who are left out, we give the impression of being utter loonies. Believe it or not, but that just counts towards the fun.
I notice that other families seem to have these subtle cues in place, too. You can tell when people are play acting, because there's often a large smile. And of course, they behave in increasingly madder ways.
And then there are the subtle cues to ensure that other family members behave properly. I use this sort of cue most on my brother. When my sister backs me up by doing the same thing, he has no option but to behave properly most of the time.
Oh yes, we keep him in order fairly well...and he knows this, so don't worry. Most of the time he ignores us when we're at home. However, he has no real option but to listen and respond appropriately when he's out.
It is strange how, over time, these subtle ways of communication get built up. It would seem that talking just isn't enough, that there has to be some way of communicating using body language, facial expression, and tone of voice; some way of sending subtle messages to people without others being easily able to pick up on what you are communicating to this family member. Yes, they can see that you're being subtle. But they aren't as likely to understand what you're getting at purely because they don't know you as well. They have to take you at face value; doing anything else would be very stressful for them.
In other news, my two year old sister has learnt how to turn the computer off. This is a major disaster in the making. She does it whenever she gets a chance to. There are other things she should be learning. Turning the computer off is not a skill she needs to have.
It is also getting darker earlier here. It's going cold. Winter is coming. The cold is, however, better than the heat. I'd just like more rain. More rain.
1. "Load of twaddle." You can't say that she beats about the bush. This is what she said when I remarked that the cheese tasted like cows smell. I'm informed that makes no sense at all. Oh well.
2. "You cheated; you made me laugh." This is what she said when it was proven that her claim that she could out stare me was false. Apparently she's good at out staring people. (Yes, I know it's rude to stare.) And she claims that I started laughing first, and then she had to laugh. Because she blinked first, she lost the game. I will state now that I would not have laughed had she not looked so much like a frog while staring at me.
3. "And have you pronounced that correctly?" The word in question was Mahershalalhashbaz; we were saying it would be fun to give that name to a little boy. I did. I can even spell it correctly. She typed it into google to find out if I'd spelt it correctly. I had. She then tried to claim that I actually said "Mahershalalhashbash". We still differ on what I actually said. We had to agree to differ.
4. Me to her: "And do you know how to spell Chile?" She did. Then she tried to claim that I didn't; giving as proof that I asked her if she knew how to spell it. Perfectly reasonable, I know. But I only asked because she'd just spelt out "chilly" to dad because when she said it was chilly outside, he replied that it wasn't Chile, it was England. *rolls eyes*
5. I'm informing you now that tomorrow morning, someone needs to bake some bread. Mum won't do this; she spends all her time at the moment lying on the sofa. (It's a lot quieter and there's a more relaxed atmosphere in the house now. I'm not sure if the two are related...) There is a good reason for all this lying on the sofa. I don't know why she chooses to lie on the sofa and not upstairs, but that's her choice. I will probably bake the bread, if I feel like it. If I don't, I'll persuade my sister to do so. (See, it did have something to do with the topic.)
6. Brothers are completely different from sisters. My brother refused to put some frozen vegetables in a saucepan earlier. He claimed that as he didn't like them, he shouldn't have to prepare them for cooking. It's not horrendously hard to take them and put them in a saucepan, but there you are. It's way to difficult for my brother.
7. This is the same boy who expertly cooks himself a fried breakfast in the morning when he feels like it. I am not joking. Believe me, I don't make things like this up for your amusement.
8. He also thinks it clever to lock the door when you go outside. Then he has pangs of conscience and unlocks it. So when you go in, you have to fight your way through a little brat standing in front of the door.
9. He also claimed yesterday that he had to go to church because my sister was going. This was good, because I'd been telling him that he was going to go to church all afternoon. And I was right. Even better, I didn't have to drag him along.
It's fascinating seeing how siblings all relate to each other. My sister and I have this very relaxed and placid way of dealing with each other. Half the time we play act to a horrendous degree. We've got it down to a fine art. We respond to subtle cues, and very subtly egg each other on to the heights of madness. Oh yes. It's most interesting to watch. Even worse, not only can we do this, but latest on the agenda seems to be teaching impressionable younger cousins to react to subtle cues as well. Hence what starts as one thing quite often ends as another. That's right, at the beginning we're all perfectly serious. At the end, we're almost dying with laughter. And for those who are left out, we give the impression of being utter loonies. Believe it or not, but that just counts towards the fun.
I notice that other families seem to have these subtle cues in place, too. You can tell when people are play acting, because there's often a large smile. And of course, they behave in increasingly madder ways.
And then there are the subtle cues to ensure that other family members behave properly. I use this sort of cue most on my brother. When my sister backs me up by doing the same thing, he has no option but to behave properly most of the time.
Oh yes, we keep him in order fairly well...and he knows this, so don't worry. Most of the time he ignores us when we're at home. However, he has no real option but to listen and respond appropriately when he's out.
It is strange how, over time, these subtle ways of communication get built up. It would seem that talking just isn't enough, that there has to be some way of communicating using body language, facial expression, and tone of voice; some way of sending subtle messages to people without others being easily able to pick up on what you are communicating to this family member. Yes, they can see that you're being subtle. But they aren't as likely to understand what you're getting at purely because they don't know you as well. They have to take you at face value; doing anything else would be very stressful for them.
In other news, my two year old sister has learnt how to turn the computer off. This is a major disaster in the making. She does it whenever she gets a chance to. There are other things she should be learning. Turning the computer off is not a skill she needs to have.
It is also getting darker earlier here. It's going cold. Winter is coming. The cold is, however, better than the heat. I'd just like more rain. More rain.
Sunday, 16 September 2007
I need to stop thinking
Oh yes. You read that right.
I need to stop thinking, and start knowing. When people ask me questions, instead of saying yes or no I quite often say "I think so." Most of these questions are simple ones, for which I should know the answers. But no. It's so much easier to give an answer which gives me some room to get out of it, and get the answer wrong without looking like too much of an idiot. (And before you suggest that I always behave like an idiot, I don't. I did walk into a drainpipe today, but that's another story.)
What was the question? I was asked if I'd started the next phase of my education. I certainly have, but then again I haven't. Shush. That's why I said that I thought so. For those of you who don't know, I'm home schooled (wow, all my weirdness and stupidity is now explained satisfactorily) and the curriculum is meant to take you to A level. However, it's a little more fluid than a school, and you work more at your own pace. Hence, someone needs to tell me to finish off that algebra and hold back with the english. Everything else is less extreme. I like english, and am comparatively good at it. Algebra, however, is another story. It's intrinsically boring, and once you can do one problem you can do all the rest of them. I hate it. It's EVIL. (Now you have to jump in and tell me it's wonderful. Anyone who does anything else is as bad as the algebra.)
I expect you all want to know what I think of being home schooled. It's nice in some ways. I've heard that other people who've done the curriculum I'm doing have gone on to be successful. I am, however, worried to a horrendous degree that I won't be one of those people. These worries are not ill founded. I never really liked the curriculum. Arguably, I still don't.
Part of the problem is that I somehow feel that being home schooled makes me different in a bad way. I worry that employers won't want me, because they'll have never heard of the qualification before. I worry that should I want to go to university, none would take me for the same reasons. I even worry that this qualification, which is recognized to be at the level it claims to be, doesn't require as much work and is much easier than GCSEs or A levels. I worry that I don't know nearly as much as those who have been through the state school system. I worry that I am stupid to a horrendous degree. I worry that I am unable to hold intelligent conversations. Yes, I worry a lot.
So, in direct contrast to my title, yes! I need to think more. I need to think. I need to think more about what I want to happen in the future, and what I can do to reach that point in my life. I need to set attainable goals, and then work to achieve them. I can do this, and therefore I should. I will survive, and I will be successful. Anything less isn't an option. I need to step out, and change things slightly. It is time for change. Time for change. And I need to make the change happen. No one else will.
The chances that I will actually screw things up irrevocably are slim. I need to be bolder. Sitting like a frightened rabbit in the headlights of a car will not help me. But that is me at the moment. And it shouldn't be. Arguably, all will be well. All will be well.
This isn't a vain hope. I can now look back on my life and see how certain things have shaped me. I can see how thing have affected me to a massive degree. And I can see that these things have happened for a reason. A good reason. Let's face it, even the bad things have had good consequences. And that therefore, all will indeed be well.
I need to stop thinking, and start knowing. When people ask me questions, instead of saying yes or no I quite often say "I think so." Most of these questions are simple ones, for which I should know the answers. But no. It's so much easier to give an answer which gives me some room to get out of it, and get the answer wrong without looking like too much of an idiot. (And before you suggest that I always behave like an idiot, I don't. I did walk into a drainpipe today, but that's another story.)
What was the question? I was asked if I'd started the next phase of my education. I certainly have, but then again I haven't. Shush. That's why I said that I thought so. For those of you who don't know, I'm home schooled (wow, all my weirdness and stupidity is now explained satisfactorily) and the curriculum is meant to take you to A level. However, it's a little more fluid than a school, and you work more at your own pace. Hence, someone needs to tell me to finish off that algebra and hold back with the english. Everything else is less extreme. I like english, and am comparatively good at it. Algebra, however, is another story. It's intrinsically boring, and once you can do one problem you can do all the rest of them. I hate it. It's EVIL. (Now you have to jump in and tell me it's wonderful. Anyone who does anything else is as bad as the algebra.)
I expect you all want to know what I think of being home schooled. It's nice in some ways. I've heard that other people who've done the curriculum I'm doing have gone on to be successful. I am, however, worried to a horrendous degree that I won't be one of those people. These worries are not ill founded. I never really liked the curriculum. Arguably, I still don't.
Part of the problem is that I somehow feel that being home schooled makes me different in a bad way. I worry that employers won't want me, because they'll have never heard of the qualification before. I worry that should I want to go to university, none would take me for the same reasons. I even worry that this qualification, which is recognized to be at the level it claims to be, doesn't require as much work and is much easier than GCSEs or A levels. I worry that I don't know nearly as much as those who have been through the state school system. I worry that I am stupid to a horrendous degree. I worry that I am unable to hold intelligent conversations. Yes, I worry a lot.
So, in direct contrast to my title, yes! I need to think more. I need to think. I need to think more about what I want to happen in the future, and what I can do to reach that point in my life. I need to set attainable goals, and then work to achieve them. I can do this, and therefore I should. I will survive, and I will be successful. Anything less isn't an option. I need to step out, and change things slightly. It is time for change. Time for change. And I need to make the change happen. No one else will.
The chances that I will actually screw things up irrevocably are slim. I need to be bolder. Sitting like a frightened rabbit in the headlights of a car will not help me. But that is me at the moment. And it shouldn't be. Arguably, all will be well. All will be well.
This isn't a vain hope. I can now look back on my life and see how certain things have shaped me. I can see how thing have affected me to a massive degree. And I can see that these things have happened for a reason. A good reason. Let's face it, even the bad things have had good consequences. And that therefore, all will indeed be well.
Saturday, 15 September 2007
The good, the bad, the ugly
The good:
- My brother found my hairbrush this morning. As it had been lost for three days, leaving me with only a small handbag hairbrush and wide toothed comb to brush my hair with, he is now officially a hero.
- Statistically, I have more legs than the average person. I am pleased about this; it would be rather distressing to have less.
- It is now a week until the rat cage gets its next proper clean. Yes, we cleaned it today. All the bedding has to be removed and it has to be wiped. There are four rats in it. It gets quite dirty.
- Mum (yes, that's correct, Mum) wanted to listen to music. She rarely likes listening to music. This is abnormal behaviour, but it's abnormal in a good way. I don't think there's any need to start worrying.
- My little sister can now talk comparatively well for a two and a half year old, when she wants to.
The bad:
- My brother found lots of hairbrushes in twenty minutes. Therefore, he knew where they were. What was he doing not getting them for me when he knows a hairbrush is important, then? He is a prat.
- Having—statistically—more legs than the average person does not make you any different from most people.
- I'm sure it's not correct to end a sentence with 'to' (like I did just now). I just have this niggling feeling that it's wrong. Is there anyone who could enlighten me on this, or should I stop being lazy and go and find out?
- I decided against being lazy. According to dictionary.com, it's either a preposition or an adverb. It would seem that most of the time it's used as a preposition, but occasionally it's used as an adverb. So it's not always wrong to end a sentence with 'to'.
- It most certainly is wrong to end a sentence with a preposition. I often do this, and ignore it. I should stop being lazy and stop doing so.
The ugly:
- The hairbrushes my brother produced were pulled out of dusty corners and from between various items of furniture. This means that he hid them. He is incredibly naughty.
- I could have sworn that sometimes 'to' is used as part of a verb. In fact, I'm almost certain that it is.
- Am I a touch obsessive-compulsive about grammar, spelling, and punctuation? I sometimes think I sound like I might be. I actually don't think I am. Maybe I should deliberately overlook some mistake to prove that I'm not...
- My brother found my hairbrush this morning. As it had been lost for three days, leaving me with only a small handbag hairbrush and wide toothed comb to brush my hair with, he is now officially a hero.
- Statistically, I have more legs than the average person. I am pleased about this; it would be rather distressing to have less.
- It is now a week until the rat cage gets its next proper clean. Yes, we cleaned it today. All the bedding has to be removed and it has to be wiped. There are four rats in it. It gets quite dirty.
- Mum (yes, that's correct, Mum) wanted to listen to music. She rarely likes listening to music. This is abnormal behaviour, but it's abnormal in a good way. I don't think there's any need to start worrying.
- My little sister can now talk comparatively well for a two and a half year old, when she wants to.
The bad:
- My brother found lots of hairbrushes in twenty minutes. Therefore, he knew where they were. What was he doing not getting them for me when he knows a hairbrush is important, then? He is a prat.
- Having—statistically—more legs than the average person does not make you any different from most people.
- I'm sure it's not correct to end a sentence with 'to' (like I did just now). I just have this niggling feeling that it's wrong. Is there anyone who could enlighten me on this, or should I stop being lazy and go and find out?
- I decided against being lazy. According to dictionary.com, it's either a preposition or an adverb. It would seem that most of the time it's used as a preposition, but occasionally it's used as an adverb. So it's not always wrong to end a sentence with 'to'.
- It most certainly is wrong to end a sentence with a preposition. I often do this, and ignore it. I should stop being lazy and stop doing so.
The ugly:
- The hairbrushes my brother produced were pulled out of dusty corners and from between various items of furniture. This means that he hid them. He is incredibly naughty.
- I could have sworn that sometimes 'to' is used as part of a verb. In fact, I'm almost certain that it is.
- Am I a touch obsessive-compulsive about grammar, spelling, and punctuation? I sometimes think I sound like I might be. I actually don't think I am. Maybe I should deliberately overlook some mistake to prove that I'm not...
Tuesday, 11 September 2007
Shocking times two
Eleven year old (well, almost) brothers have their uses. If they have uses, then there is hope for everyone and everything.
He's doing a great job of looking after my two year old sister while mum's out. You'd almost think that he was two himself, he's so good at it.
Actually, I might be on to something there. I always suspected that he hadn't matured since his second birthday, and it would seem I'm correct.
There is a disadvantage to this arrangement, however. He has completely messed up the lounge while doing this. You'd think he'd be able to entertain a little sister without messing the place up, but no. And I bet he won't clear up the mess. If he does, he'll only clear it up enough to keep mum happy. And what keeps mum happy won't keep dad happy.
If you're wondering why mum isn't here, she's at an appointment. So therefore, leaving the two year old behind is a good idea. She's got to learn that mum isn't always around all the time, anyway.
And now for the second shocking thing. It's only six years since the twin towers fell! It seems a lot longer. I can't really remember much from before they fell. Well, yes. I can remember a bit. But not much.
It was Grandpa's 65 birthday, and he had come round here to celebrate it—mainly because mum just didn't feel like going to his party (long story behind that). I seem to remember that he insisted on lighting the candles on his cake himself. And guess what? He burnt himself while doing so.
Even worse, dad said to him "Little boys who play with fire get their fingers burnt." It's gone down as one of the best birthday cake disasters in our family. Maybe it wasn't a disaster, more a funny occurrence. But it's right up there with the time my sister took eleven puffs to blow out nine candles. Or else it could have been thirteen puffs to blow out eleven candles, I can't quite remember. The point is that she took two more puffs than there were candles on the cake.
We didn't find out about the towers until after Grandpa had left. Just as well, really. It's not a good topic of conversation around the table at someone's 65th birthday. I seem to remember there were scary pictures in the newspaper, though. Lots of flames and one of a man jumping from a window.
I don't know who was responsible for the towers. I'm not really worried. Whoever did it, the Americans should not have gone to war. And as for Blair following them like a lamb, surely he could see that no good would ever come from interfering in another nation's quarrel with a nation the other side of the world?
He's doing a great job of looking after my two year old sister while mum's out. You'd almost think that he was two himself, he's so good at it.
Actually, I might be on to something there. I always suspected that he hadn't matured since his second birthday, and it would seem I'm correct.
There is a disadvantage to this arrangement, however. He has completely messed up the lounge while doing this. You'd think he'd be able to entertain a little sister without messing the place up, but no. And I bet he won't clear up the mess. If he does, he'll only clear it up enough to keep mum happy. And what keeps mum happy won't keep dad happy.
If you're wondering why mum isn't here, she's at an appointment. So therefore, leaving the two year old behind is a good idea. She's got to learn that mum isn't always around all the time, anyway.
And now for the second shocking thing. It's only six years since the twin towers fell! It seems a lot longer. I can't really remember much from before they fell. Well, yes. I can remember a bit. But not much.
It was Grandpa's 65 birthday, and he had come round here to celebrate it—mainly because mum just didn't feel like going to his party (long story behind that). I seem to remember that he insisted on lighting the candles on his cake himself. And guess what? He burnt himself while doing so.
Even worse, dad said to him "Little boys who play with fire get their fingers burnt." It's gone down as one of the best birthday cake disasters in our family. Maybe it wasn't a disaster, more a funny occurrence. But it's right up there with the time my sister took eleven puffs to blow out nine candles. Or else it could have been thirteen puffs to blow out eleven candles, I can't quite remember. The point is that she took two more puffs than there were candles on the cake.
We didn't find out about the towers until after Grandpa had left. Just as well, really. It's not a good topic of conversation around the table at someone's 65th birthday. I seem to remember there were scary pictures in the newspaper, though. Lots of flames and one of a man jumping from a window.
I don't know who was responsible for the towers. I'm not really worried. Whoever did it, the Americans should not have gone to war. And as for Blair following them like a lamb, surely he could see that no good would ever come from interfering in another nation's quarrel with a nation the other side of the world?
Sunday, 9 September 2007
Something slightly different
Just what is so special about a picture of a plant? If you look closely, you will see that the leaf in the middle of the picture has some very strange growths on it.Apparently, these are lighthouse galls. They seem to be quite common on this particular plant, ground ivy. Ground ivy is an uncultivated plant, and it has small purple flowers in spring.
That particular specimen of a lighthouse gall on ground ivy is in our back garden. I assume they are called lighthouse galls because they are fairly long and thin. They are also covered with small hairs, but that's not really surprising because the plant itself has short hairs all over it.
A gall is a growth on a plant that's caused by some kind of parasitic insect or fungus. And what comes out of a lighthouse gall? It would seem that it's a fly. An ordinary type of fly. One with two wings. You get the idea. I was unable to find out very much about this fly, unfortunately. What I did discover, however, is that its order is Dipetra, its family is Cecidomyiidae, its genus is Rondaniola, and its species is bursaria. So if you are really very interested in this particular fly, you should be able to find out more about it; unless of course, I spelt them wrong. That shouldn't have happened, but obviously the spell checker is useless when it comes to Latin.
Anyway, you now know what a lighthouse gall is and what it looks like. What use this information is to you, I do not know. But the fact is that you now have yet another piece of useless information at your disposal. . .
Saturday, 8 September 2007
Duty of care
It has been established that most people agree that stewardship is the way to interpret man's dominion over the earth. And therefore, if we are to be stewards over the earth we have a duty to care for it.
I would define a good steward as one who doesn't create unnecessary waste, and also looks after what they have.
I would say that unnecessary waste includes changing things which don't need to be changed. I don't feel that the 'keep up with the Jones family' mentality helps prevent unnecessary waste; I would say that it helps cause it. I'm sure it's not difficult to think of a family that's always painting their house, changing their kitchen, or buying new cars. In my opinion such actions are wasteful. I agree that sometimes it is necessary to do those things, but doing them for no other reason than feeling like it is wasteful in my opinion. That kind of mentality is wrong for so many other reasons.
Other things are also wasteful; throwing food away is just bad. I read on the BBC website that some people throw cakes into the bin. Even worse, they are unopened. I'm sure I can't be the only person who considers that unpardonable. I'm sure you all understand the meaning of waste and that therefore I don't have to elaborate on it for any longer.
I would define looking after what you have as taking reasonable care of it. I'm not suggesting that if it gets damaged, you have not looked after it. I will illustrate the difference between accidental damage and deliberate damage. If I throw a plate on the tiles in the kitchen, I would consider that bad stewardship. If, however, I accidentally dropped the plate I would consider that an unfortunate accident. The after effect may be the same, but one has to admit that there is a major difference between the two actions. Maybe some would consider accidentally dropping a plate bad stewardship. I think that one does have to look at intent. Maybe I'm just soft.
As well as forbidding deliberate damage, I would also think that reasonable care includes general upkeep. General upkeep includes little things like filling a car's petrol tank. It is bad stewardship if this gets empty, sorry. Unless you no longer intend to use the car. And also included under this comes things like resting fields. It's well known that if you repeatedly use a field for the same thing, it gets into bad condition.
Good stewards also do one other thing. They make things better and improve things to the best of their ability. The other two things just prevent you from being a bad steward.
Improving things to the best of their ability does involve a certain amount of calculated risk. But if no one took risks, we wouldn't have many things we have today. Risks are good, as long as you know what you're trying to do and have something tried and tested to fall back upon. Without risks, nothing improves.
Of course, it's always possible that you can do nothing to improve the thing. Then all you need to do is provide general upkeep, as detailed earlier. And I'm of the opinion that general upkeep is what we need to do with the earth. It's stood up to humans, life, and everything else for an unknown number of years. There is no real reason to suspect that it won't cope for a whole lot longer. Therefore, all we need to do is provide basic upkeep and not destroy it. I will admit that somethings have been destroyed. They should be restored where feasible and possible.
But as for green spaces being over run with houses, that's tough. The answer really is to put more people in each house. Houses are necessary for human life; we were told to populate the earth, and we haven't been told to stop yet (politicians and the like don't count). Therefore, it is only reasonable to expect that the earth can and will cope with human activity. Anything less would be an insult...
I would define a good steward as one who doesn't create unnecessary waste, and also looks after what they have.
I would say that unnecessary waste includes changing things which don't need to be changed. I don't feel that the 'keep up with the Jones family' mentality helps prevent unnecessary waste; I would say that it helps cause it. I'm sure it's not difficult to think of a family that's always painting their house, changing their kitchen, or buying new cars. In my opinion such actions are wasteful. I agree that sometimes it is necessary to do those things, but doing them for no other reason than feeling like it is wasteful in my opinion. That kind of mentality is wrong for so many other reasons.
Other things are also wasteful; throwing food away is just bad. I read on the BBC website that some people throw cakes into the bin. Even worse, they are unopened. I'm sure I can't be the only person who considers that unpardonable. I'm sure you all understand the meaning of waste and that therefore I don't have to elaborate on it for any longer.
I would define looking after what you have as taking reasonable care of it. I'm not suggesting that if it gets damaged, you have not looked after it. I will illustrate the difference between accidental damage and deliberate damage. If I throw a plate on the tiles in the kitchen, I would consider that bad stewardship. If, however, I accidentally dropped the plate I would consider that an unfortunate accident. The after effect may be the same, but one has to admit that there is a major difference between the two actions. Maybe some would consider accidentally dropping a plate bad stewardship. I think that one does have to look at intent. Maybe I'm just soft.
As well as forbidding deliberate damage, I would also think that reasonable care includes general upkeep. General upkeep includes little things like filling a car's petrol tank. It is bad stewardship if this gets empty, sorry. Unless you no longer intend to use the car. And also included under this comes things like resting fields. It's well known that if you repeatedly use a field for the same thing, it gets into bad condition.
Good stewards also do one other thing. They make things better and improve things to the best of their ability. The other two things just prevent you from being a bad steward.
Improving things to the best of their ability does involve a certain amount of calculated risk. But if no one took risks, we wouldn't have many things we have today. Risks are good, as long as you know what you're trying to do and have something tried and tested to fall back upon. Without risks, nothing improves.
Of course, it's always possible that you can do nothing to improve the thing. Then all you need to do is provide general upkeep, as detailed earlier. And I'm of the opinion that general upkeep is what we need to do with the earth. It's stood up to humans, life, and everything else for an unknown number of years. There is no real reason to suspect that it won't cope for a whole lot longer. Therefore, all we need to do is provide basic upkeep and not destroy it. I will admit that somethings have been destroyed. They should be restored where feasible and possible.
But as for green spaces being over run with houses, that's tough. The answer really is to put more people in each house. Houses are necessary for human life; we were told to populate the earth, and we haven't been told to stop yet (politicians and the like don't count). Therefore, it is only reasonable to expect that the earth can and will cope with human activity. Anything less would be an insult...
Wednesday, 5 September 2007
I think not
This is just wrong. The concept is totally wrong. I don't know if the story's wrong, but unlike those 'colour changing' horses (mere grey horses, I kid you not) of a while back, this is something you might expect them to get right.
Mixing human and animal embryos in any form is wrong. It doesn't happen naturally, and therefore they shouldn't even attempt to create it. They say they're not going to make some kind of weird hybrid. I think they should, because that would ensure that people were forbidden to mix human and animal embryos in any form ever again.
Aren't there enough other things scientists could be doing without needing to merge animals with humans in any shape or form? There's suggestions that it will help them cure diseases. I'd never knowingly have any disease cured by a result of research done that way. That's not to mention the fact that embryos were given to people so that they could have children, not pick them to bits. That's just nasty.
But then, what do people care about children? Apparently, one fifth of all pregnancies end in abortion. Do you know what that means? For every 800 children, there should be 200 more. The only upside is that most of the children today seem to have been brought up to shoot each other, and fewer murder suspects can't be a bad thing.
And to change the subject to a less controversial one, I just saw a bat outside. Bats are fascinating to watch, but it seems to have gone now. The curtains shouldn't even be open at this time...honestly, it's dark outside! And it's only half eight. I seem to remember that it used to be a little bit lighter a couple of months ago. Winter's coming! Woo! Winter! Rain and cold, a nice change from summer. But hang on—rain sounds very like summer here...
Mixing human and animal embryos in any form is wrong. It doesn't happen naturally, and therefore they shouldn't even attempt to create it. They say they're not going to make some kind of weird hybrid. I think they should, because that would ensure that people were forbidden to mix human and animal embryos in any form ever again.
Aren't there enough other things scientists could be doing without needing to merge animals with humans in any shape or form? There's suggestions that it will help them cure diseases. I'd never knowingly have any disease cured by a result of research done that way. That's not to mention the fact that embryos were given to people so that they could have children, not pick them to bits. That's just nasty.
But then, what do people care about children? Apparently, one fifth of all pregnancies end in abortion. Do you know what that means? For every 800 children, there should be 200 more. The only upside is that most of the children today seem to have been brought up to shoot each other, and fewer murder suspects can't be a bad thing.
And to change the subject to a less controversial one, I just saw a bat outside. Bats are fascinating to watch, but it seems to have gone now. The curtains shouldn't even be open at this time...honestly, it's dark outside! And it's only half eight. I seem to remember that it used to be a little bit lighter a couple of months ago. Winter's coming! Woo! Winter! Rain and cold, a nice change from summer. But hang on—rain sounds very like summer here...
Tuesday, 4 September 2007
A slightly whiny whingy post
I'm going to stop wondering about what to blog about and just blog. I did intend to post some photos of my pet rats, but rats move and my photography skills just don't match their ability at making sure you take blurry photos. So no rat photos today. Maybe another time!
I did get some nice photos of a spider and some others of a green bug. However, that wasn't what I wanted to photo. Grr. My sister can take nice enough photos of the rats. I just need to try more often, and then I should get some reasonable ones.
Talking of my sister, she is the only other person in the house. That doesn't give her the right to change the sound settings on this computer. That's just annoying. If she doesn't want to be able to hear it, she shouldn't be sitting practically next to me. And for the record, having my sister in the house is nothing like having an empty house. I fear, however, that if I locked her outside someone would get into trouble and it wouldn't be her.
I suppose I better put up with her. She can't help being here. Well, she can, actually. What I want to know, though, is when they'll all go out and let me have some time on my own again? I like time alone. It's just become a whole lot rarer. I suppose, though, that I could go out on a walk; I could go and see the river. I like the river. There isn't time for that now, though.
Relievingly, she is being quiet at the moment. But she keeps making little noises. Whatever happened to peace and quiet? It's gone. My definition of peace and quiet is quiet that's only broken by me. She just sighed.
Sisters are very nice in their proper place. However, being with me 24/7 is not their proper place. No one's place is with me 24/7.
My sister has always been something of a mixed blessing to me. While there's no doubt that it's nice to have a sister that's a real friend, too, she's always seemed very much my parent's favorite out of the pair of us. I would agree, this is me just being pure ridiculous. But—and I quote—when remarks like "she's the competent one" are made about my sister, it does nothing to help things. It does even less to help things if they're made at Granny's. Granny told me that I should protest strongly against that. It implies that I'm incompetent.
Strangely, there is this opinion among my siblings that I'm stupid. Ask my brother. That's what he says. There may be something in it; I don't know. On the other side of the coin, according to Grandma I'm intelligent. So the real question is whether I am intelligent or whether I am actually stupid and have been taught to sound as if I'm intelligent.
And why has this descended to a slightly whiny sort of blog? It shouldn't have done. I have a policy of not publishing whiny blogs. This is only slightly whiny, and therefore I shall go on to happier things.
My baby sister is really starting to get the hang of talking. She can say please and thank you; earlier, she very clearly said "no, don't." Sh really is getting quite communicative and good at making us understand what she wants, which is good because that means we don't have to wonder what she wants. It's annoying when there's a clearly unhappy baby or she clearly wants something and we don't know what it is. That doesn't mean that when we do know what she wants she gets it, but it is better to know.
With this increased communication, however, she is getting naughtier. She refused to say please when she wanted some chocolate the other day. She had a massive paddy about it. That's two year olds for you!
I did get some nice photos of a spider and some others of a green bug. However, that wasn't what I wanted to photo. Grr. My sister can take nice enough photos of the rats. I just need to try more often, and then I should get some reasonable ones.
Talking of my sister, she is the only other person in the house. That doesn't give her the right to change the sound settings on this computer. That's just annoying. If she doesn't want to be able to hear it, she shouldn't be sitting practically next to me. And for the record, having my sister in the house is nothing like having an empty house. I fear, however, that if I locked her outside someone would get into trouble and it wouldn't be her.
I suppose I better put up with her. She can't help being here. Well, she can, actually. What I want to know, though, is when they'll all go out and let me have some time on my own again? I like time alone. It's just become a whole lot rarer. I suppose, though, that I could go out on a walk; I could go and see the river. I like the river. There isn't time for that now, though.
Relievingly, she is being quiet at the moment. But she keeps making little noises. Whatever happened to peace and quiet? It's gone. My definition of peace and quiet is quiet that's only broken by me. She just sighed.
Sisters are very nice in their proper place. However, being with me 24/7 is not their proper place. No one's place is with me 24/7.
My sister has always been something of a mixed blessing to me. While there's no doubt that it's nice to have a sister that's a real friend, too, she's always seemed very much my parent's favorite out of the pair of us. I would agree, this is me just being pure ridiculous. But—and I quote—when remarks like "she's the competent one" are made about my sister, it does nothing to help things. It does even less to help things if they're made at Granny's. Granny told me that I should protest strongly against that. It implies that I'm incompetent.
Strangely, there is this opinion among my siblings that I'm stupid. Ask my brother. That's what he says. There may be something in it; I don't know. On the other side of the coin, according to Grandma I'm intelligent. So the real question is whether I am intelligent or whether I am actually stupid and have been taught to sound as if I'm intelligent.
And why has this descended to a slightly whiny sort of blog? It shouldn't have done. I have a policy of not publishing whiny blogs. This is only slightly whiny, and therefore I shall go on to happier things.
My baby sister is really starting to get the hang of talking. She can say please and thank you; earlier, she very clearly said "no, don't." Sh really is getting quite communicative and good at making us understand what she wants, which is good because that means we don't have to wonder what she wants. It's annoying when there's a clearly unhappy baby or she clearly wants something and we don't know what it is. That doesn't mean that when we do know what she wants she gets it, but it is better to know.
With this increased communication, however, she is getting naughtier. She refused to say please when she wanted some chocolate the other day. She had a massive paddy about it. That's two year olds for you!
Sunday, 2 September 2007
In the style of my great aunt
I saw my great aunt yesterday at Grandma's house. It's always fascinating listening to her talk, as she begins with one thing and then ends on something entirely different, leaving you to wonder how she got there without any noticeable change in subject. She also talks in this incredibly enthusiastic fashion, and doesn't leave you any space to say anything at all while she's talking. I enjoyed listening to her; she's completely different from Granny, who demands that you talk to her—I fail at this, every time—or Grandma, who holds a two-sided conversation with you—I'm a bit better at this. She talks, and expects you to listen. Listening is something that I can do.
She talked about whether things were black and white or different shades of grey. She seemed to be of the opinion that things were black and white, with everyone deciding what their black and white was. Apparently, her father was of the opinion that things were either black or white. No leeway. My dad subscribes to this view, too. And I think that's pretty correct: things are either black or white. Some things it's difficult to decide whether they are black or white, but they must be either one or the other. My most lenient view would be that things are black and white, with different shades of black.
She also said that parents had to guide their children, but they also had to get to a point when they let go. Not that they should stop guiding their children—obviously, parents have a duty of care towards their children which does not end until one party dies—but that, when their children get older, they have to be of the opinion that their children have brains and can therefore decide things for themselves. I agree with this entirely. Give me the options, and I'll pick. Or not, as the case may be. I may just sit around weighing up the pros and cons of everything, and refuse to pick. I'm good at that. But to be allowed to pick, and to know that I and I only will pick my views, is what is really necessary. They may agree with my parents, and they may not. But if I regurgitate it to someone, then they are my views. My opinions. The fact that my parents held them before me is neither here nor there.
And she also went on about marriage. It would seem that she never married because the person she wanted to marry didn't want to have anything to do with her. There were others she could have married, but she knew they wouldn't work. And so, she didn't marry. A sensible decision. As my great aunt's father said, it's better not to marry at all than end up married to the wrong person. Just who is the wrong person is another question. Apparently, it doesn't really matter; part of marriage is that you have to make a conscious decision and then stick with it.
Interestingly, she also said that killing animals to eat them is wrong. Her father, however, disagreed with her. And both were convinced that they were right. Both can't be right. It doesn't take much to know that if I disagree with you, we can't both be right. We can, however, both think that we're right. And probably will. Killing animals to eat them cannot be wrong; Biblically, it is allowed. Indeed, why does beef taste so nice if it isn't meant for eating? Lamb tastes nice, too. Lamb mince, however, is nasty stuff; it smells horrid and tastes like anemic beef. In short, it's vile. Pork just tastes like fat, but pork sausages are delicious. Beef sausages are coarse and nasty. Gammon tastes like bacon, except it's nicer and is quite nice occasionally. Bacon is useful for nothing, except slicing and placing in casseroles. Even then it isn't really very nice. Chicken is nice, as long as it's a whole chicken. I'm convinced that they do something to the pieces, as they don't taste as nice. Fish is delicious, and should be eaten several times a week. By fish, understand that I mean cod with a large amount of tomato ketchup. Fish that comes in tins isn't nice. The one exception is tuna.
Anyway, you don't want a whole exposition as to when things should be eaten, how often they should be eaten, and what they should be eaten with. Take note, however, that Grandma fed us rice yesterday. Rice with a lamb stew or something; I don't know what it was, it had raisins
and orange pieces in it. In short, it was bordering on foreign food. Rice just shouldn't be sold. It is pretty tasteless. Potatoes are best. Everyone knows that! Then comes pasta, followed by rice. Rice is bottom of the pile; most things are nicer. But potatoes...yum. Potatoes...
Grandma also fed us baked alaska. It was very nice, and much better than pavlova with bananas on top, which she gave us once. Bananas are worse than pineapple; at least pineapple's edible. Anyway, I will stop talking about food before I sound like a fussy eater; I'm not. One more thing: we all sat round a round table. Round tables are nicer than oblong tables, and you can generally fit more people round with ease. We filled this table up, though; squeezing another in just wasn't an option. And a table full of people is nicer than a table with only a couple of people eating off it.
Anyway, soon I'll have to go to church. Today dad is not moonlighting at some nasty church, and therefore—as it's a first Sunday, and therefore they have communion—I anticipate sitting through about 2 and 3/4 hours of church services. This doesn't include the time before and after the church service, or you could add about another hour on to that.
She talked about whether things were black and white or different shades of grey. She seemed to be of the opinion that things were black and white, with everyone deciding what their black and white was. Apparently, her father was of the opinion that things were either black or white. No leeway. My dad subscribes to this view, too. And I think that's pretty correct: things are either black or white. Some things it's difficult to decide whether they are black or white, but they must be either one or the other. My most lenient view would be that things are black and white, with different shades of black.
She also said that parents had to guide their children, but they also had to get to a point when they let go. Not that they should stop guiding their children—obviously, parents have a duty of care towards their children which does not end until one party dies—but that, when their children get older, they have to be of the opinion that their children have brains and can therefore decide things for themselves. I agree with this entirely. Give me the options, and I'll pick. Or not, as the case may be. I may just sit around weighing up the pros and cons of everything, and refuse to pick. I'm good at that. But to be allowed to pick, and to know that I and I only will pick my views, is what is really necessary. They may agree with my parents, and they may not. But if I regurgitate it to someone, then they are my views. My opinions. The fact that my parents held them before me is neither here nor there.
And she also went on about marriage. It would seem that she never married because the person she wanted to marry didn't want to have anything to do with her. There were others she could have married, but she knew they wouldn't work. And so, she didn't marry. A sensible decision. As my great aunt's father said, it's better not to marry at all than end up married to the wrong person. Just who is the wrong person is another question. Apparently, it doesn't really matter; part of marriage is that you have to make a conscious decision and then stick with it.
Interestingly, she also said that killing animals to eat them is wrong. Her father, however, disagreed with her. And both were convinced that they were right. Both can't be right. It doesn't take much to know that if I disagree with you, we can't both be right. We can, however, both think that we're right. And probably will. Killing animals to eat them cannot be wrong; Biblically, it is allowed. Indeed, why does beef taste so nice if it isn't meant for eating? Lamb tastes nice, too. Lamb mince, however, is nasty stuff; it smells horrid and tastes like anemic beef. In short, it's vile. Pork just tastes like fat, but pork sausages are delicious. Beef sausages are coarse and nasty. Gammon tastes like bacon, except it's nicer and is quite nice occasionally. Bacon is useful for nothing, except slicing and placing in casseroles. Even then it isn't really very nice. Chicken is nice, as long as it's a whole chicken. I'm convinced that they do something to the pieces, as they don't taste as nice. Fish is delicious, and should be eaten several times a week. By fish, understand that I mean cod with a large amount of tomato ketchup. Fish that comes in tins isn't nice. The one exception is tuna.
Anyway, you don't want a whole exposition as to when things should be eaten, how often they should be eaten, and what they should be eaten with. Take note, however, that Grandma fed us rice yesterday. Rice with a lamb stew or something; I don't know what it was, it had raisins
and orange pieces in it. In short, it was bordering on foreign food. Rice just shouldn't be sold. It is pretty tasteless. Potatoes are best. Everyone knows that! Then comes pasta, followed by rice. Rice is bottom of the pile; most things are nicer. But potatoes...yum. Potatoes...
Grandma also fed us baked alaska. It was very nice, and much better than pavlova with bananas on top, which she gave us once. Bananas are worse than pineapple; at least pineapple's edible. Anyway, I will stop talking about food before I sound like a fussy eater; I'm not. One more thing: we all sat round a round table. Round tables are nicer than oblong tables, and you can generally fit more people round with ease. We filled this table up, though; squeezing another in just wasn't an option. And a table full of people is nicer than a table with only a couple of people eating off it.
Anyway, soon I'll have to go to church. Today dad is not moonlighting at some nasty church, and therefore—as it's a first Sunday, and therefore they have communion—I anticipate sitting through about 2 and 3/4 hours of church services. This doesn't include the time before and after the church service, or you could add about another hour on to that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
