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Thursday, 15 May 2008
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Lazy Afternoon Musings
“For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, ‘It might have been.’” Is this true? I must confess, I wonder. There are somethings about which I think, “what would have been if...” But some of those very things, I do not wish that they had occurred, or desire to have the effect of such actions made real. I look back to occurrences and realize, that it might have been “this way.” But am not saddened by the fact that it is not.
What a blessing it is that God who knows best is in control, and not I with my feeble attempts at wisdom and knowledge. If what I had desired so long ago had come to pass, how different things would be. I wouldn’t be me.
I understand better than ever now, how true it is that circumstances shape you into the person you are becoming. Your character, the very core of who you are, can be effected by the happenings around you if you allow it. Some things, must be allowed to happen, to shape you into a, if not different, at least stronger person. Both the hard things and the happy things of life force us to either conform to them, changing character, or stand, cultivating strength of person. Every day, every minute, whatever happens, shapes you into the person you are. Yes, we must choose how to react to situations, but whichever choice you make, you are still shaped by it.
So, attitude is huge. Beyond it having enormous weight on how your relationships with others will progress, it makes the pattern which you will be shaped by. Never react rashly. Rashness produces instability; instability allows doubts to creep in; doubts produce fear; fear brings cynicism; cynicism turns to arrogance; and arrogance allows no help from where it is most needed. A chain reaction can be set off which will change the integrity a person is known for to a model of the despair of hopelessness.
“What might have been,” is sometimes a blessing. Something we can praise God never happened. For where would we be now. The key, I believe is to include God in every part of our daily life. The circumstances then can guide our hearts closer to the pattern Jesus left for us. Follow His example, and your life will form you into something beautiful. Jesus’ guiding is the only thing that can carry us through the confusing labyrinth of what might be, so that one can look back and say, “Thank you, God!” that “what might have been” didn’t happen.
Saturday, 22 March 2008
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Stoll Family Easter
Every family has its "eccentricities," shall we say. Those little things that always happen, that somehow manage to, at least in your mind, set your family apart from everyone else's. Some are shown in embarrassing ways--like my Dad's tendency to, while in an elevator with complete strangers, say, "Well, I suppose you are all wondering why I called this meeting?" Others are shown in endearing ways--like how my Grandpa and Gramma Kauffman always call each other "jo" (it means sweetheart). But to me, the thing that I always think of in relation to the Stoll family, is the stories. Sometimes I am not even sure if some of them are true, or if they have just taken on an "unnatural" life of their own over the years. But if there is one thing that all my "Stoll side" relatives are good at doing, it is telling stories.
Even more than their gift of dramatic story telling, the Stoll family seems to have this uncanny way of getting themselves into the most ineresting situations with the most interesting people, which, of course, only adds to the length and substance of the stories. Or maybe it is just that we, ourselves, are really quite interesting and unique people. But whatever the actual cause, nearly every family gathering has us all sitting around the living room, swapping tales about everything from epic adventures with the rednecks of Ladysmith, to falling down the stairs at a first class hotel, to exactly who it was that threw the shoe that broke the mirror, way back when.
Now, being the Easter season, we just had our annual get-together at Grandpa and Grandma's house--complete with the traditional candy bag hunt and way too much good food. This, of course, gave ample time for sharing whatever bits of our lives we felt worthy of making known to the family in general. During our gathering, came the prime example of my above description.
When my family arrived, fifteen minutes late as usual, even though we were in a hurry to get through the door, all of us noticed that malodorous scent in the air which could be none other than freshly killed skunk. The shotgun shell laying on the ground gave us a clue as to exactly how this small mammal had met it's doom. When we got inside, we heard how Grandpa had gotten up in the middle of the night, seen the "black spots comin' across the yard," and felt the need to, uh, shall we say, dispose of the creatures. But over the rest of the evening, and yes, I do mean all evening, more and more details came out. It is not like it was so much of a great story; but the people telling the story changed that. But I'll let you judge that for yourself. I will simply take some direct quotes, and I believe you will see why exactly I love my family's "quirk" so much.
"He was barefoot!"
"You mean you went outside barefoot to shoot those skunks?"
Grandpa just gave that slow, mischievous grin of his; with it not admitting any guilt, but definitely not denying it.
"...some people sleep through anything! Did you sleep through Dad's gunshots last night?" Aunt Connie turned towards Grandma.
"Well, yes! But...I don't know what he was...what were you doing up so late last night?" Grandma turned the attention back to Grandpa.
"I got up, and you know how much light comes through these windows at night, you don't even need a light on in here to walk around! And I went over to those windows and I was looking out over there and saw this black spot coming across the yard, and I knew what that was! So, I got my *names type of gun here, which, of course, I have no clue what it was* and went out, walked up to there, and shot twice. Then I came back inside, went to the window to make sure it was dead, and, waddayaknow, there was another black spot comin' across the yard. So, I grabbed my *whatever it was* and a couple more shells, and went outside and shot twice more!" (We never did find out why he was up, but...)
"He didn't even get dressed." Grandma muttered.
"He was in his underwear?????"
Grandpa rather sheepishly replied, "You didn't have to tell them that..."
Amidst the laughter, first over his story, and now even more over this new bit of information, we heard Alisha cry out, "You mean in his WHITIE-TIGHTIES?????"
MUCH more laughter followed this outburst. As well as more speculation:
"Oh what stories Jess and Melissa must have to tell," someone said in reference to their neighbors.
"What'd those skunks ever do to you?????!!!!!" This was another outcry of Alisha's.
And finally, even as we were leaving it still could be let go, as Grandpa in an almost defending tone, stated, "Those were two of the biggest skunks I've ever seen!!!"
Now, I realize that this is probably not as funny to some of you; but for those of you who know the above mentioned people, and can hear in your head their voices as they would say these things, I'm pretty sure you will appreciate. I just can't help but replay over in my own head, the way my Grandpa sounded as he excitedly told the story; or Alisha's tone of voice when she got the mental picture of Grandpa outside in his underwear shooting skunks; or what it would be like to hear gunshots in the night and get up to find out what was going on, only to look out the window and see my seventy-some year old neighbor in such a state.
This story, as related above, is actually quite typical for my family. And I love this about them. To be able to appreciate your families peculiarities, is a good thing I think. And I definitely do.
Disclaimer: For those of you who know my Grandpa, uh...if you should choose to relate your knowledge of this happening to him, please don't relate your source! Thanks!
Friday, 21 March 2008
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It is amazing how true this is, please take note:
50 Things I Have Learned By Being a Banker/Teller:
-I know everyone in the world, so I never need to ask for ID
-I’ll be with you in one moment means, “Come right up here into my business and breathe your popcorn breath in my face for a while.”
-Every bank in the world steals money from their mbrs, especially those that don’t keep a register.
-I’m always kidding when I tell people a check is not any good, I’m a good kidder.
-I know the balance of every account at the credit union.
-I’m at the CU just cuz I feel like it; my window isn’t actually open when I say, “May I help you?”
-I know everyone’s acct number.
-I know everyone’s address.
-I don’t understand how banking works.
-I have to do whatever the person who gave my mbr the check said.
-I don’t know how to count.
-I don’t know how to add.
-I don’t know what the date is.
-I can read everyone’s mind.
-If I ask for your social, I’m trying to steal your identity.
-I know when every new coin will be arriving.
-I know how much everyone’s bills are for the month.
-We don’t sell stamps.
-We’re just here for fun on most holidays, we’re not really open. We love it when you rub it in!
-When someone asks how you want your cash back, you’re supposed to wait to tell them after you’ve gotten your money back.
-Apparently people have different definitions of commercial.
-You’re time is more important than mine, I have no life. When you show up 5 mins before we close to make 10 deposits or open a new acct, we don’t mind.
-Everyone with the Bank/CU name tag is related.
-I’m also your secretary.
-We love to place holds on checks for fun. We’re the only financial that does it.
-13 hrs and 10 mins is not enough time for people to do their business.
-I’m in charge of never-ending popcorn, coffee and treats.
-It’s polite to ignore someone when they say hello.
-It’s my fault when someone cuts you in line, I should’ve been paying attention to you & not your money.
-I know what a checkingdepositwithdrawal for savings is!
-Being rude should make me want to help you more.
-I’m not really human, I shouldn’t make mistakes.
-It’s okay to go into someones office when their door is shut.
-I have a secret collection of dr licenses in by cubby.
-I can’t hear. I need you to ding the bell at least 5 times in a row.
-The sign that says ‘Next Window, Please’ is just for decoration.
-I make people wait on purpose, it’s fun to make them mad.
-I know everyone’s PIN number to their ATM card.
-Fraud isn’t real, I should give customers exactly what they want.
-The coin machine is my favorite thing to do.
-The CU gives out free pointsettias at Xmas, we order them for you, not us. Display only means whatever you want it to.
-Please and Thank You are forbidden words at the CU. We hate to hear them.
-Checking & Savings dep slips are EXACTLY the same. Marking thru the word savings changes the dep slip completely.
-When I tell someone the same thing over and over, I’m doing it just for fun. I like to waste my breath.
-We’ll break the rules for anybody as long as they gripe for more than 10 mins.
-I’m a professional coin counter. Even when the machine is broken, I’ll count your coin by hand.
-I’m psychic;when you call, I can recognize you voice & pull up your info. My computer is also voice activated, it’s that fancy technology we have.
-You don’t have to tell me you’ve been with the CU for 50 yrs, I can tell.
-Even after 10 yrs, I’m a new teller to anyone who has never seen me before. If I’ve never waited on you, I have no idea what I’m doing.
-I make up the rules for the whole banking industry. You can blame me for everything.
-I’m an idiot.
Sunday, 03 February 2008
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Currently Listening
Barney: Be My Valentine
see relatedValentines Day: HELP!
Disclaimer: For those of you who don't already realize this: For as much as I complain about how stinking dramatic everyone else is, and how ridiculous and complicated they make everything...I am a true dramatic at heart. lol. I am also obsessive. Therefore, when talking about something I am obsessive about, I tend to get dramatic. Hence, the following post. Just remember not to take me too seriously.
For as long as i can remember, I have hated Valentine's Day. Ok, so that's a lie. I mean, sure I loved it back in second grade when everybody filled out stupid little cards for everyone in the class and you all compared to see who got the coolest one (I personally liked the ones with lolly-pops attached). But, then...reality sank in. To me, there is nothing more pathetic than a bunch of hormone boosted emotions ravaging the stores for chocolate hearts and fuzzy-wuzzy teddy bears to give to that one special super-duper hunny-bunny. And then of course, next week comes the inevitable break-up. Now please, before you click away to much more important page, let me explain myself. I am not, as I am sure you are assuming, one of those bitter souls who thinks of Valentine's day as "Singleness awareness day" (in fact, I despise that almost as much as the above complaints...but more on that later); and I am not just pessimistic about the whole topic of love. Rather, I am realistic. Here is my point: What is the point of this billion dollar holiday (ok, so I don't even know if it is a billion dollar holiday...but...) if people are just going to spend a lot of money on stuff they don't really need, for people whom, a month down the road, they might not care about? I suppose, my real complaint is, not so much against the holiday, but more against the temporary affections that people make such a huge deal of.
I'll never forget the first time I witnessed a real life, full blown "luv" triangle. I was quite young. Perhaps third or fourth grade. My sister, was five years older than me; and at that point in my life quite possible the coolest person ever to me. So, me, having the insatiable curiosity and the penchant for trouble that I did, loved to be around Annie and her friends...for as long as I possibly could...you know, until they lost ALL sense of patience and Annie yelled that one horrid word that sealed my doom: "MOMMMM!!!!"
There was one girl in particular, who acted as though her very purpose in life was to find a husband...at age fourteen! Well, in spite of the fact that my big sis got quite annoyed when I eavesdropped and such on her friends, the two of us really were quite close. So, she occasionally vented to either just me, or the whole family about her friends and their "luv" problems. Therefore, I knew a thing or two about the above mentioned girl.
What I had already heard was this: Sue* had liked Bob (Though I have no idea why. I mean, even though I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about boys at that age, I was WELL aware the this particular boy was, in my opinion, fat, ugly, and a big baby!), but then, something had happened and she stopped liking Bob and started liking Pete (Who, by the way, was NOT much better looking than Bob.). Well, it was the last day of school, and I walk from the elementary side of the school, down the stairs, to the high school side of the school. I walked around a corner, and there in the doorway, yelling at each other in a most disturbing way, were Sue and Bob. Pete was not far off, and thought I can’t remember exactly what I was thinking, I am pretty sure it was something to the effect of: Oh my goodness, those boys are SO not worth this. If this is what having a boyfriend is like, than you can forget it!
Well, of course, that story is told from the point of view of a nine year old, so I suppose it could be discredited. But even later in life, my spite of the this type of drama was enforced through such occasions as Valentines Day. Those people who had boyfriends and girlfriends were turned into blithering idiots; and I was always left to wonder how they could NOT know how ridiculous they looked. But yet, I am not immune to those tender feelings which we believe at the time to be the most real thing ever! I have had, though probably not as many as most girls, my fair share of “crushes” on someone or other. So, I suppose I can respect the idea of thoroughly enjoying a chance to act all mushy and not get yelled at by everyone else…‘cause they are all acting that way too! But, I myself never really wanted to be seen acting that way!
However, I also never wanted to be included with that OTHER group. You know who I mean! Those people who go around on Valentine’s Day, moping…sighing…gazing at the lovey-dovey dorks…wishing that they could have a significant other…on this, most special day: Singleness Awareness day! These people, are almost more annoying than the first group. Now, if you are someone who refers to Valentines Day as this, please don’t take offense. I know there are people who call it that and use it as an excuse to go have a wonderful, glorious time with all their single friends. That is fine. That is great! But, I myself, HATE. that. name. Though, I never really knew why…until last year.
Last year I realized a few things about my perspective on Valentines Day: It is not the holiday I dislike. It is not the way people show their affection so blatantly (ok, so yes, this IS a little annoying sometimes). It is this world we live in that has ruined it for me. See, I don’t believe in dating just for fun. In my own personal opinion, if you are going to date someone, it had better not be just to make yourself feel good. Love and family are two of the greatest gifts God gave us, and I think this society treats them way to scornfully. And I realize I just wrote a whole post about how much I hate the holiday that celebrates love, so maybe I can’t talk. But, when you live in a country with a fifty percent divorce rate…even in the "Christian church", how can I help but be a little annoyed over the antics of people who are just celebrating this holiday so they can feel good, get stuff, or look normal to everyone else. We need to be celebrating true love, not just hormones and emotion. And, it truly is a good thing to celebrate this!
So, if you are someone who is dating someone you could never see yourself marrying (Now, just to clarify, I am not advocating “courtship” as the only form of male/female relationship acceptable. I even think that going on a date to see if you are compatible with a person is ok. But dating just for kicks…not so much.), and you want to go on a wonderfully romantic date with that person and spend your hard earned money on warm-fuzzies, that is up to you. I don’t care. I myself don’t see the point of it. Granted, that is just my totally practical, unromantic side of me talking, but…whatever.
But this Valentines Day, I will not be celebrating Singleness Awareness Day. I will even do my very, very best not to get annoyed at all the freaky “in luv” people. Instead, I am going to choose to appreciate the real love around me: The people who are married, and are staying married through good times and bad. The people around me who have enough respect for their future mate that they are waiting to start dating until it is God’s timing. The people who are in dating relationships that are honoring each other and God.
Ya, so maybe somewhere inside I kinda wish someone was gonna bring ME flowers this year. Actually though, just for the record, I think the fireworks and such at fourth of July are way more romantic than Valentines Day. But I don’t think I am gonna spend much time thinking about it…….‘Cause seriously, who really wants to have to go through the all the agony anyway: oh my gosh, does my hair look ok???? Did I use enough perfume???? Do you think he’ll like the fuzzy-wuzzy teddy bear??? Or is it to girly-whirly for my lovey-dovey????? I’m, like, SOOOOO excited!!!! And nervous…DO I LOOK OK???????
So, for now, I will sign off as single and loving it. Bet ya can’t wait for my St. Patrick’s Day post!!!!!
*names have been changed
Saturday, 29 September 2007
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My slightly-embellished-yet-completely-true version of my night last night!
"Becky? How would you like to have a campfire?!" her eyes sparkled as she flashed that I-have-a-great-idea-and-I-know-it smile at me.
"I would love to!" I aswered excitedly! It really was a great idea!
"You know," she said, a surprised tone in her voice, "I don't think we have ever made a campfire together before." And always one to come up with a brilliant plan, she added: "We should make a whole list of things we have never done together!!!"
"Yes!" I loved her idea. We have always done many crazy things together, but every once in awhile we find some new ridiculous escapade to embark upon; and the idea of making a list of adventures to accomplish together intrigued my slightly obsessive-compulsively organized mind.
"Like..." but nothing came to mind immediately, "...like this campfire!" I said triumphantly.
"Yes," she agreed, "We will soon be able to cross that off our list!"
"YES!" I agreed happily!------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We eagerly changed into warmer clothing and set out into the quickly darkening, somewhat chilly night, matches and newspaper in hand. I could hardly wait to get a good blazing fire going; it was just the perfect night to sit beside a cozy campfire and exchange girl-talk with one of my very best friends.
"Ummm, do you guys have a fire-ring?" I asked uncertainly, thinking they did, but wanting to make sure before I just plopped my lawnchair down in some random place.
"Yes! Here is a rock," she pointed at the ground.
We both knelt and began to push away the damp leaves that had covered the circle of stones to the point that I had completely missed them. There was already sticks and twigs in the circle, so we began to stuff newspaper underneath. She grabbed several bigger chunks of wood from the pile of scraps and unwanted lumber that leaned against a nearby tree.We put several on top, lit the news paper, and watched in dismay as the newspaper quickly burnt up and the fire went out.
"Ummmm...Oh!" she said, recalling some extraordinarily wise fact from the back of her mind, "Aren't we supposed to build a little teepee?"
"Maybe." I agreed, willing to give it a try. The sticks were damp enough that they kept returning to their original position rather than forming a decent teepee, so we went back to the pile beside the tree. Granted the boards were bigger, but at least they would block some of the wind while we got the sticks going. I was certain that they would light quickly now! I mean, really, how hard can making a fire be? I had witness MANY people light a campfire before, and probably had even assisted a few attempts.
Out came the matches again, and more paper. We shoved the newspaper under the teepee, and went for attempt number two. We chatted about this and that as we poked at our project and lit matches two, three, and four. I was a bit exasperated as I watched our second attempt die out, only lasting slightly longer than the first. However, when we found something I could fan the fire with, I was certain it couldn't take much longer, but just to be safe, I came up with a brilliant back up plan:
"Do you have any lighter fluid?"------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Well, I guess we could brave the scary shed to get some really dry wood," she offered, as we glared stormily at the wood that refused to light.
"Ok."
"I'll go get a flashlight," she offered with a but of an annoyed tone in her voice. I understood her feeling completely. I mean, it is not like we are not both very capable country girls, there is no excuse for it taking this long.
"Wait," I said. I figured if we had to stoop to the level of getting different wood when really the big pieces we were working with were quite dry, we should at least make it without a flashlight! "I have my cell phone! We can use that instead of a flashlight!"
She looked uncertainly at me. "Ok," was her hesitant reply.
I wasn't quite sure why she was so unsure about that until I saw the slightly-neglected looking shed that sat in the corner of her lawn. It did look a little creepy in the dark. And for that reason alone, I dared to voice the question that this--yes, capable--but still sensible country girl was just dying to ask:
"Are there skunks in your shed?"------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dry wood replaced some of the other pieces in our wobbly and slightly pathetic looking teepee, and we went for another try--by this time we had lost count of the match number we were on. And when this attept failed even more quickly, I threw a I've-had-enough-of-this look at my friend, and headed for her garage, "Where is your lighter fluid!?" We would just have to live with the ribbing we would get from her brother and cousins when they found out we couldn't light a fire without lighter fluid. I was just ready to sit down and relax by this fire of ours!
I got the desired flamable liquid and squirted it on the fire...er...unlit logs. Grabbed the box of matches, and tried yet again, this time absolutely certain that the fire would take off. But even with lighter fluid and considerable amounts of fanning, there wasn't even anything more than a small flame.
"I wonder where we put our Christmas tree," she mused.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We shoved pieces of somewhat dead pine braches--not from the Christmas tree (she didn't know where it was), just from random live trees (and if you are wondering exactly how one misplaces a tree, don't ask me, ask her!), into the teepee and got ready for yet another try. After several trips to the garage for more news paper (btw, in case you ever need to know, the ACE flyer does not burn, but the Rusk County Shopper does), we finally brought the whole bag of newspaper out; so we stuff more of that in just for good measure. I must confess, at this point, I was losing hope of us ever getting a fire going. I mean, if we can't even get lighter fluid going....
The two of us both lit matches, lighting it from both sides and began to give our little pile whateve aid we could (my mad fanning skills and her amazing dragon breath talents), but alas, the little fire went out again!
Then, from beside me came the query:
"Becky, would you like a cup of tea?"------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I scowled stubbornly, not willing to admit how good that sounded to me, and picked up the match box, determined--even while knowing it wouldn't happen--to get it going. But when it went out again, finally turned to my friend and resignedly and and humbly said,
"You said something about tea?"------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We tried a few more times for good measure, and then grabbed our jackets and bag of newspaper and returned to the house. By this point, we were so ready to just sit down and relax, that we did not let our failed attempt(s) haunt us as we sat down to drink our lady-like beverage out of pristine tea cups. Besides, it had been a definite adventure! And that is of course what really matters to us!
But, needless to say, "building a campfire together" is still on our list!------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rebecca_Faith
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- Name: Rebecca
- Birthday: 9/17/1988
- Gender: Female
- Member Since: 8/14/2005
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This is me:
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I am a Christian. I am at peace. I am a writer. I am a sister, a daughter, and a friend. I am different than most people. I am ok with that fact. I am Rebecca Faith, and that is all there is too it.
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ok, so yes, i am just trying out all of the things on xange that i've never done before...including pulse. kinda cool.
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