HOW TO B#

My love for my grandkids, music and puns all come together here.
How do I pun thee?  Try to count the ways!

It's not always black and white but knowing your priorities is key. Please note my grandchildren come first in this blog post. That's a fact, hands down!  I love them more than trumpet players love themselves and that's a lot!

Music and humor tie for second but may be inverted at times. Music puns are the first sign of madness.  I could find myself in treble here but it all comes down to living life in one accord with my beliefs. To B# and not fall flat in life, timing is crucial. You can't beat learning early in life how to B natural!  

Sadly, I had a friend long ago who was a treble maker from the start.  He found himself under a rest because of the stress that marked his life. If he had known the Messiah, he could have handled it all better.  But he majored on minor things and lost his rhythm in life.  He needed to scale back on the racial slurs too.  

Not to harp, my main pitch is simple.  The best chord for life is Gsus.  If you sustain that relationship you'll be ready when He comes Bach. I may not be clef-er but this is my theory for life. You don't need a staff around you because people may not measure up.   

Resolve to love God first, family next and find your true passion!  

MY INSOMNIA ANTICS

A few weeks ago I had one of those rare nights.  Actually it's nearly 3 AM so it's technically morning.  After 2 hours sleep, a quick trip to the bathroom leads to this!  Hours awake.  Experience has taught me that watching the clock does not induce sleep.  So I get up.

Straighten a closet. Eat some pineapple.  Mend a dress,  Play Scramble with Friends, even though they're probably sound asleep. Read. Pray. Finally found an old college friend awake when she just "Liked" a blog I posted. So we chatted briefly on private message via Facebook.




By nature I'm a night owl.  Rearing children or working regular hours didn't allow for that.  But now my lifestyle lets me stay up late and sleep in.  Teaching piano begins mid afternoon, so like a second shift worker, my body clock finally matches my schedule.

But INSOMNIA is different.  It discombobulates day and night, sleep patterns and rest.

As I sit here, however, a part of me likes it. The quiet is deafening.  Clocks tick.  The refrigerator hums. That's it.  Darkness surrounds me and the house is cool. Alone is good. I know the doorbell won't ring.  The phone won't either. No piano student will walk in.  I'm comfortable in the cocoon and mystery of insomnia.

David found a meaningful purpose in sleepless nights.

Psalms 119:148

My eyes anticipate the night watches, That I may meditate on Your word.

I'm not alone after all.  God is here.  With me.  Insomnia can be a good thing.  Like most things in life, it all depends on my attitude. I love to read in bed so maybe I'll grab my Bible and. . .

A MAN OF HONOR

Veteran's Day this week I posted a picture of Daddy and me.  Confession: I actually cropped out Bert, Ricky and Mama.

Before

After

I mentioned his 32 years in the Navy and in describing him I wrote, "A man of honor." Later that day those words kept cropping up in my thoughts.  I wondered what actually makes a man honorable.  I knew it described him so well.  Two specific memories came back to me that reinforced it.

#1

One summer at Emerald Isle, NC, during family vacation, Mama and I sat chatting on the porch rockers of Uncle's Bill's house. Our family spent a week there every summer for over 20 years. 

Daddy was long retired but she shared some thoughts from his sailor days. "When he'd ship out, I'd have to do it all back home.  When Bert was little, Daddy was gone for 18 months during the war."

"Mama, did you ever worry about him?"

"Sure, it was war. But I also knew God had His plans for us, so I trusted Him in those times.  So many wives didn't have that.  They didn't even trust their husbands so far away. A lot of men cheated on their wives."

"Did you ever worry about that, Mama?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Well, Honey, I guess because I knew your daddy so well.  He wouldn't even bring home a Navy issued pen or paperclip from work.  A lot of men did though."

"Really?"

"Sure.  But not Daddy.  And I knew if he was honest in little things, he'd be faithful to me. He's a man of honor."

#2

Another time Dad quietly verified honor in his life was at a crossroads right after retirement from the Navy.  He had both experience and years to give.  His career was in food services as a Naval supply officer.  He managed commissaries (grocery stores), mess halls (cafeterias) and galleys (kitchens.)   Daddy was not a cook per se, but an excellent manager of food services and supply both on bases and aboard ships.

He and Mama discussed what the next years would be. "Kathryn, I want to give the Lord these years.  I'm going to put in my application at Free Will Baptist Bible College in Nashville, TN.  I'll wait until a certain date and if I've not heard from them, I'll assume the Lord is leading another direction."

My brother, Bert, was an alumni and I was a high school senior heading to the same college in a year.  So it seemed like a perfect fit, a perfect plan but

God had other plans.  The deadline date set by my father for his dream job came. . .and went. No response from Nashville.  Meanwhile he had another offer to work in food services at East Carolina University in Greenville, NC.   

But then just days after the self-imposed deadline, he got that offer from the Bible college. He turned it down, even though it was his heart's desire.  Why?  "Because if God wanted me there, that offer would have arrived earlier."

So we moved to North Carolina where he worked under an experienced man for 2 years, learning much about college food industry.  

Then the school in Nashville came back again with the offer. I was a rising sophomore there by then. My brother was on staff there.

Dad accepted.  "Those two years trained me for the shift from Navy to academic life in my field. I'm better ready now." At ECU he morphed from "Swab the deck." to "Please mop the floor."

God's timing was perfect.  Only a man of honor would not jump at the dream job because of a few days delay in the response.  But he'd prayed about it and kept his word.

A man of honor must first be so in little things like paperclips and ink pens.  Then the big things, like marriage and career, take care of themselves on his path of integrity.

Daddy.  A veteran and a true man of honor.

SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST BOINGERS!

"Doug, come see this one minute video."

He did.  We laughed then he spoke one word, "Kimberly."




In fairness to our first born, it's a genetic thing.  I was Jerry the Goat in my family.  My older brother, Bert, once noted, "Kathy, when you write letters to me in college, you use more exclamation points than anyone I ever met."   When I first tried wearing heels, he chuckled, "You look like an awkward antelope."  True. 

Others walk. We boing!  We're the Tiggers to the mellow Winnies of the world.  Seems to balance out.

Boingers bring fun to the party.  They also tend to find trouble.  Kimberly was a joyful child, so animated and full of life.  She never simply walked; she skipped, hopped, danced and frolicked her way through childhood.

Amused by her, one night at bedtime I challenged her, "Kimberly, I bet you can not WALK from the family room to your bedroom.  No jumping, running or boinging!  Just walk!"

Her eyes danced as she smiled at the dare.  Her body stiffened like a soldier at attention. She walked, though I sensed she wanted to march, past the sofa, past the TV, approaching the piano.  Eyes straight ahead she stepped into the hallway, almost to her bedroom!  Would she make it?  Just as she passed the piano, head not moving, her right arm flung out to the bass keys.  She hit two grand notes, fanfare style!  TA DAH!

There has to be pomp, even when we walk.

Happy birthday, my dear, dear Kimberly! Boing all you want, Honey!  Eat cake and blame sugar!