Today our daughter went swimming in our pool. March 21 and the pool temperature was 69 degrees. Not me. I AM NOT THAT CRAZY.
Tag Archives: Sports
Super Bowl? The food was my favorite part.
"Super Bowl Food"
The game is over. The Giants made a big comeback in the end. Not that I really cared because neither team in the Super Bowl was my choice. Not that I am much of a football fan because I am not. However it did make for a fun family night especially with a great cook. Our daughter.
Starting off with Faith Hill, and Kelly Clarkson were excellent choices. Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton added to the emotion of the stadium.
As you can see by the pictures of all she cooked, (my husband made the cheese ball) it was worth the game time. I contributed nothing to the dinner. Remember? I am the maid. I got to clean up and still am cleaning the day after!
She is a much better cook than I am. She has a knack for the flavor attributes. She indulges in the risk. She searches for recipes with a twist. She revels in the Emeril Lagasse of preparation. The aroma when the food was cooking created a festive atmosphere in the house even if I don’t care for football. She actually enjoys it. ugh. I don’t.
Image via Wikipedia
While indulging in tortilla chips with spinach, cheese and Rotel tomato dip along with the appetizing cheese ball, I endured some of the commercials. Some were ok, others were just silly. Then there were those that insulted my intelligence or should never have been filmed much less cost a fortune. Wasteful.
Barbecued chicken wings made it easier to get through.
I must admit as one facebook friend remarked “the game was better than the commercials.” I agree.
At different quarters down to the minutes or seconds it could have gone either way. It seemed like Tom Brady would come through in the end, but Eli managed to pull it off. According to the gossips Gisele was not happy with some hecklers making the remark “her husband couldn’t be in two places at once.” What? Kick him while he is down. He’s been in 12 years. This may have been his last shot.
Then there was Madonna. She is a few years younger than me and in great shape. She did seem to be a little slower, but who wouldn’t in those 5 inch heeled boots on bleachers? I have never been a fan of hers. In fact it is a shame that someone with so much talent isn’t singing for Jesus like so many others gifted with a voice.
And who would want to be remembered by the world for making an un-necessary, lewd gesture? What is wrong with people? There were children watching. I was watching. So was Jesus.
While I enjoyed the roasted corn on the cob I thought about all the makings of this game. The marketing. The astronomical ticket prices. The ridiculous cost of a 30 second commercial that should end up on the other channel. Or no channel. The gambling going on behind the scenes. The food. The people of Indianapolis who had a job as a result of this sporting event. The overall money that is made and who gets it. One day out of the year where Americans are actually doing something together and not fighting over politics. Well, maybe.
But, there was one thought that kept running through my meager brain.
I wonder what the people watching whether in the stadium or on their big screen TV‘s would have done if Jesus had stepped out during the half time show instead of Madonna?
Would he have been given a round of applause like she got or jeered at?
Would the stadium become silent?
Would people all of a sudden start asking for forgiveness?
Would people leave or turn off their TV sets?
Would he be welcomed?
What would Jesus talk about? Who would listen? Would the game continue?
Where does Jesus fit into this game of football? This major event for America?
Image via Wikipedia
Maybe Tim Tebow knows.
What would you do if he showed up at the Super Bowl during halftime?
I know what I would do. I would put down my corn on the cob, fall on my knees and look up to Heaven and say,
“Thank God! Jesus is finally here and what an entrance!”
http://jansimson.com/2012/02/06/my-superbowl-experience/
Copyright @ 2012 All Rights Reserved
I Accept
All my life I have been short. Now I realize this may not apply to many of you who as adults or even older teens are somewhere over 5’1 inches tall. For the most part I have never liked being short. The following are a few reasons why.
1. Group pictures. You will always find short people on the front row.
2. Reaching the 2nd row of cabinets in kitchens or some bath or laundry areas are bad enough. Forget the 3rd floor.
3. You can never see over a crowd unless you are right up front.
4. In church for instance, no matter where you sit unless it is the front row, the tallest person around will find the seat right in front of you.
5. The ridicule is endless.
6. Finding pants to fit my short legs is virtually impossible these days unless they are in the Petite department and then they cost a fortune. I have never understood how they can charge more for less material.
7. Others with long legs should stay out of my car. They move the seat so far back and fail to move it back where I need it. Don’t drive my car. It is too small for tall people.
Image via Wikipedia
8. Randy Newman‘s song “Short People” is the worst song ever recorded. It became a hit during my college days; many thought it was funny to sing it to me over and over. I did not think it was funny.
9. I never made the basketball team. In fact, no one ever asked me to play basketball.
10. Short people are asked to look under furniture to find things. It is assumed we are closer to the floor therefore we should be subjected to the vermin under the couch?
You are probably wondering why I have brought this to your attention not that you really care but I need to express my heartfelt feelings about this. This is my blog so I can do that.
God created me. Oh, you already knew that. He created me the way I am physically which was small. But growing up, the ridicule was constant. Short jokes, small jokes. In college my nick name was “little bit.” I often wondered why God made me smaller than most of my classmates. He knew they would make fun of me. He knew the perils I would suffer through out my life as a result of the rejection of not making the WNBA.
Image via Wikipedia
Recently I thought I heard that little whisper behind my ear saying, “Accept the way you are. ” I started thinking about that. I have rejected God’s creation of me. I have complained about the many times I have to get a stool to reach the casserole dish off the top shelf of my kitchen cabinets.
I really complained when I had to squeeze the stool into my closet when I couldn’t find enough floor to sit it on. The door got in the way. The maneuvering between moving the stool to fit with the door became an all out war. By that time, I forgot what I was doing in there.
God reminded me had I been taller I would not be what he created me to be. I wish he had told me that when I was 13. The only person shorter than me in the entire grade was a dwarf.
Now many years later and older I understand why God made me short. It doesn’t matter. That’s why.
I don’t have to be taller for God to love me more. I don’t have to be taller for God to use me. I don’ t have to be taller to pray or read the Bible. I don’t have to be taller. Period. I accept.
Isaiah 46:4 Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
Copyright @ 2012 All Rights Reserved
Guardian Angel? I have more than one, but this Angel left a scar….
January 3, 2012 and it is cold, even here in the south. 90 degrees is good for me. Many of you may like snow, cold air and ice. Hope you enjoy it for the next few months. I AM READY FOR SPRING!
Thinking how much I enjoy warm and hot summers I will tell you a true story. It may warm me up just writing about it.
Angels come in many forms. There is no other explanation for what happened to me in the summer after my 5th grade except that an Angel saved my life. For you skeptics out there, I will excuse you right now if you don’t believe in Angels. I do.
Swimming was always my agenda in the summers. I was a fish. We had joined the neighborhood pool club which became my daily hangout. Mom would fill my swim bag with clothes and quarters, drop me off when it opened and pick me up late in the afternoon. Only this particular day she had to come sooner; she was not happy.
It was very hot, and the pool was running over with kids. There were lifeguards in every chair. Some were walking around the pool. My friend, who was also a big swimmer was over in the 3 foot deep water.
Jumping off the diving board was fun. I loved to dive, do flips and handstands. There were two diving boards. The lower one and the 12ft one. I was on the lower one and did a back flip. Or so I thought. I went under.
The next thing I remembered was a soft and gentle hand under my arm pulling me up to the top.
I remember feeling safe, peaceful and comforted that someone was helping me. Only no one was there.
Feeling somewhat groggy I thought to myself,
” I must have really hit the water hard because my head hurts.”
A little dizzy, I got out and sat down. After a quick rest I headed over to the 3 feet water where my friend was. I kept swimming but felt sick and weak. Continuing to swim, I kept going under like I loved to do and swim with my eyes open to see everything. But something was wrong. I just didn’t feel right.
Getting bumped and bruised by every other swimmer was not helping my dizziness. I felt the top of my head. It felt strange. By now it was throbbing. I called to my friend to look at it. She started screaming to the top of her lungs.
I cried out, “What is wrong?” She replied, “You are cut and blood is everywhere!”
Swimmers were screaming. Lifeguards jumped in and grabbed me. Sitting me in a chair they attached cloths to my head to stop the bleeding. I was terrified and had a very bad headache.
Image via Wikipedia
The pool attendant called my mother. She was recovering from surgery 3 weeks prior to this and was not suppose to drive. She did anyway. Rushing me to the hospital I didn’t know if I should be more upset about my head or my mother.
The ER doctor checked the almost 5″ gash; did some tests and told us there was no internal damage. Shaving off about 4 inches in diameter of my hair, he proceeded to stitch my head up with about 15 -20 stitches.
When he finished he asked me what happened. We concluded I had hit the diving board and fell in the water. The doctor asked,
“How long were you under the water?”
“I don’t remember. In fact I don’t remember falling into the water. No one saw me and no one was in the water with me, but I felt a hand reach under my arm pulling me up to the top. That is when I realized I had been on the bottom of the pool and didn’t know how I got there.”
The doctor said it was a miracle that all I needed was stitches. The lifeguards were on full alert after this unbelieving I had survived such a hit with only stitches to show for it.
Me, I was more upset that the doctor ordered me out of the pool for at least 2 weeks until he took the stitches out.
I remember that day like it was yesterday.
All I have to do is glide my fingers across the top of my head and feel the scraggly scar left behind from what could have been a much more serious outcome to my life. A scar that reminds me of God’s protection saved by one of his own messengers.
Angel? yep. That’s what it was. I have no doubt.
Guardian Angel
Copyright @2012 “Did Jesus have a facebook page?”
The Miracle in the Chair
Have been gone a few days visiting my parents and family. It is always good to go home. Now, back in my own home, there is much to catch up on and more going on than I can speak of. Fatigue is the order of the day right now even when trying to catch up.
My dad has a rocking chair by the window of their den he sits in and has for many years. He smokes a pipe and even though I wish he wouldn’t the aroma of “Sir Walter Raleigh” is like his signature trait. He has a table beside the chair used for his ash tray, pipe tobacco, kleenex, nasal spray and a clock that is actually my mom’s that dad kept for himself. It is the spot that holds the picture of him that remains with me all the time; until last July 2010 when I didn’t know if he would ever sit there again.
At night I sit on the couch across from my 85 year old father watching him intently as he would navigate the screen of a laptop. It is the laptop he never thought he would enjoy, much less use. After 18 months of going from knocking on the door of death to looking and feeling better than he did before he became ill, he has a new perspective on life. Learning how to use a laptop has been a God send and offered a new learning experience.
He religiously walks everyday, does his exercises from his chair and has the appetite of a horse. Yesterday after I left he joined my brother at the Country Club to hit a few golf balls. 6 months ago we didn’t know if he would be up and moving around much less swinging a club.
His desire to live has catapulted his recovery but we all know who gave him that. For the first time in my presence dad asked about what all had happened to him because he was so doped up with meds for almost 2 months he remembers very little. I told him it was ok that he doesn’t remember because we do. I then staunchly told him, “don’t ever do that again!”
He apologized for putting the entire family through so much but mom and I let him know how glad we are he is still with us and doing so well.
It was fun showing him new techniques on his laptop. My daughter signed him up for “skype” which turned out to be even more fun and truly amazing for both of them! She skyped him from her apartment at college which brought out laughter and joy even for our daughter’s friends! The 15 minutes we communicated with her through cyber space were like drinking the first 6oz bottled coke years ago out of the coke machine my dad had at his car business. It was surreal and a moment in time that can’t be replaced.
My time with them is precious but I also know where we are all going. God has been so good to my family; there are many waiting for us in Heaven. For now I am thrilled to see my dad sitting in his rocker living out the miracle of extended life God has given him.
