The Flintstones

On this day in 1960, the Flintstones premiered. It was the first prime time animation show.

The Flintstones is an animated, prime-time American television sitcom that was broadcast from September 30, 1960, to April 1, 1966, on ABC. The show was produced by Hanna-Barbera. The Flintstones was about a working-classStone Age man’s life with his family and his next-door neighbor and best friend.

The show’s continuing popularity rested heavily on its juxtaposition of modern everyday concerns in the Stone Age setting.  The Flintstones was the most financially successful network animated franchise for three decades, until The Simpsons debuted. (Read more.)

Though I didn’t get in on things from the beginning (I was only 2 when the show premiered), I did watch every episode many times over as they were repeated.

And, repeated.

And, repeated.

I can’t imagine childhood (or that of my own children) without Hanna-Barbera cartoons.

I don’t know about you, but “Yabba dabba do” and “Willll-maaa!” were mainstays of my childhood that made a lasting influence on my life.

Fred and Wilma loved each other and stayed together no matter what. They fought and argued, disagreed, struggled with life and disappointments.  But, they never stopped loving each other and through it all they kept their focus.

It wasn’t about Fred.  And, it wasn’t about Wilma.  It was about the Flintstones.

And, after all these years, if you turn on the Flintstones cartoons you will find that they are still hanging in there, still together.

How many marriages can you name that have lasted 53 years and are still going strong?

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National Coffee Day

I have a new favorite holiday. It’s today…National Coffee Day!

For information about the beginning of this aromatic day check Wikipedia.

For information about where to get free coffee today visit Parade.com.

For ideas on how to celebrate National Coffee Day, check Wikihow.

Want to send a free e-card to a fellow coffee lover?

Are you on Facebook?  Like National coffee day!

Love KK Donuts or Dunkin’ Donuts? Yeah, they’re giving away free coffee. 🙂

Hubby’s not all that about coffee, but he does love KK Donuts.

So…guess where you can find us later today.  Hope to see you there!

Happy National Coffee Day!

R rated Christian film

I’ve not checked it out, so I’ll take Todd Starnes’ word for it.

The zombies don’t even come close to being as scary as the Baptists if you believe the Motion Picture Association of America.

The MPAA slapped an R rating on “My Son,” a small-budget film made by the congregation of Retta Baptist Church in Burleson, Tex.

“They told us it was because of violence and drug use portrayed in the film,” Pastor Chuck Kitchens told Fox News. “I was very shocked. It makes me sick at my stomach.”

The pastor said the church’s film does not include foul language, sex scenes or nudity. He did confirm there was violence surrounding a hostage standoff in the church as well as some drug usage.

But Kitchens said the violence was neither gory nor gratuitous. By comparison he pointed out the MPAA gave “World War Z” and “BULLY” PG-13 ratings. And “Jobs,” which included scenes featuring LSD and marijuana usage got a PG-13 rating. Read more.

R rated Christian film??

It must be one convicting, convincing and completely candid piece to receive this rating from the MPAA.

If it shows in my area, you can be certain this is one film I plan to go see.

What will people say if they see me going into an R rated movie? Eh, those people are already talking about me anyway…this will just keep them busy a little longer and give you a break…and a chance to see it yourself.  😉

Baby Daddy

Beep, beep, beep.

My phone chirped the arrival of a new text.

The sender had big news to share.

He’d just learned he was going to be a daddy.

Stunned. Scared. Excited. Dumbstruck. Unbelieving. Lost. Determined.

All of these (and more) described the young man who shared his news with us.

With all the uncertainty swirling within his head, he had the clarity to know the type of daddy he did not want to be.

And, he had the good sense to know that he needed to start now to make the changes necessary that would put him on the right path to being the Daddy this little baby will need the next 18…28…38…58 years of his/her life.

You know…when you find out you’re going to be a Daddy, it changes everything. You see that it’s not about you anymore, it’s about someone else. And, it’s about doing whatever it takes to make sure that someone else has what they need – and to make sure you’re there for them. I’ve gotta get a job – I’ve got a lot to do to have things ready when our baby is born.  And, you know something else I’ve learned? Pregnant women are ALWAYS right.  I don’t care what she wants or what she says – I get it or I do it.  It’s just a lot easier that way.

Wise young man. He’s already figured out some very important things.

Bless this young man, Father, and grow him in the direction he needs to grow for this baby, this new life that is facing him.  Enable him to mature quickly. Strengthen him to do the right thing even when it’s the hard thing. Give him love and patience. Help him to be the best Baby Daddy he can be.  And, bless the young mother-to-be with health and an easy pregnancy. Protect the baby and weave her/his body together perfectly and completely. Thank you, Lord, for children, for grandchildren, for nephews and nieces and for great nieces and nephews.

Going Virtual

For my entire life I’ve carried a Bible to church in the form of a physical “book” that I held in my hands and turned the pages of.

This past Sunday I experimented at church with my ipad and YouVersion.

I’ll admit – I was a bit reluctant to make the change, even if only for one day.  I like flipping through my Bible to find the passage.  I like hearing pages turn.  I like running verses and references when something comes to mind.  I like the familiarity of MY Bible and the ease with which I use it.  I can find things easily in it.  I feel comfortable with it and…yes…secure.

I’ll also admit – I liked the variety of versions YouVersion offered me and found the Sunday school lesson quite interesting as I flipped between versions with the flick of a finger.  And, my mind wandered not one time during the sermon – my eyes and attention were glued to the scripture on my ipad as I flipped between versions and listened attentively to the sermon.

It was a good experiment with a positive outcome. Will I place my Bible on the shelf and make the ipad my church companion from here on out?

Probably not.

Perhaps I’m too old school and just like the comfort of the familiarity of the scripture in book form.

Or, perhaps I know the temptation would be too great and I would sneak a peek at other things on my ipad.  😉

Growth

While listening to the online service of Andy Stanley, I heard Joel Thomas apologize for the overcrowding situation in the children’s / student’s department.

Yes, he apologized for the overcrowding.  And, he said they have plans in the works to increase the space of the children’s / student’s section by 30%.  It will cost 7 million dollars but there’s a plan in place to take care of that as well.

He encouraged patience and urged them to keep on coming, to continue inviting friends and family.

“We want you and we are making room for you.” That was the message I heard loud and clear 270 miles away.

“Consistently overcrowded in our children/student space” – what a problem to have!

When was the last time growth was an issue you or your organization welcomed?

Is growth something you lean hard toward or do you shy away from it because of the cost involved?

The Mother Lode

My 85 year old mother decided to play FreeCell on her computer after a year of inactivity.

To do so, she had to turn on the old, outdated desk top computer.

She punched one button and the screen came on, but did not light up.  A message appeared on the dark screen. Her eyesight not being what it once was, she was unable to read what it said.

So, she punched another button and this time the screen sprang to life along with the computer.

As she told me this, she said of the second button she pushed, “it must have been the mother lode.”

The mother lode – that which we desire most and expend our life’s energy to find.

1-5 Good friend, take to heart what I’m telling you;
    collect my counsels and guard them with your life.
Tune your ears to the world of Wisdom;
    set your heart on a life of Understanding.
That’s right—if you make Insight your priority,
    and won’t take no for an answer,
Searching for it like a prospector panning for gold,
    like an adventurer on a treasure hunt,
Believe me, before you know it Fear-of-God will be yours;
    you’ll have come upon the Knowledge of God.

Proverbs 2:1-5 (MSG)

For an interesting read on finding the mother lode check out Mining for the Motherlode – mining for a vein of truth in the stuff that matters.

Autumn’s Joys

Summer’s passing couldn’t be helped.  I fought Autumn’s arrival with everything in me, but still it arrived and Summer slipped away.

It seemed all I could think about were things that would no longer be.

What a sad way to pass the day.

By focusing on what isn’t, I was missing the miracle of what is.

Miracles like:

  • the leaves changing colors
  • barn spiders renewing their webs
  • October blue skies
  • the Harvest Moon
  • pumpkins
  • V formation
  • cool breezes
  • lower humidity
  • goldenrod
  • the emergence of virgin queen wasps
  • broccoli and Brussels sprouts
  • foggy mornings
  • football
  • the sound of leaf rakes
  • the crunch of feet on dry leaves
  • more days between grass cuttings
  • the thunk of hedge apples hitting the ground
  • digging sweet potatoes
  • turning under the garden
  • Woolie Bears
  • red Maple leaves
  • Hummingbird migration South
  • fewer mosquitoes
  • lazy flies
  • crisp air
  • school days
  • back to church activities
  • long nights
  • blankets
  • “free” weather
  • cool nights, warm days
  • Halloween, Thanksgiving and pre-Christmas activities
  • sweat pants and light jackets
  • a falling leaf tickling my cheek on its downward spiral
  • apple picking
  • butternut squash
  • first frost
  • wood smoke
  • burning leaves
  • rest from summer’s chores

Summer was a taskmaster. I worked from sun up until after sunset and still there was more to do.

With Autumn’s arrival, my body senses a slow down and a need to change gears…to change pace.

Summer ended just in time. She was about to wear out her welcome and wear me out as well.

Welcome, Autumn! I look forward to getting to know you.  I’m sure we will become great friends once I become accustomed to your ways and figure out how to change my Summer way of thinking into a more laid back Autumn line.

Three months of Autumn lie before me.  I’m so excited!  There’s so much to see…to experience…to do!

Goodbye, Summer.  It was nice knowing you!  Thanks for all you offered me. You really put me through my paces. But, I’ll be honest, I felt more your servant than your friend.

I’ve a new love now and I’m off to get to know him.  I think we will get along just fine.  Instead of me working for him…I think we will work together.  And, if I’m careful, I might just get him to work for me.  😉

Happy Autumn Y’all!  I hope its every joy is yours to enjoy.

From Trash to Treasure

You wouldn’t believe what people throw away.

While dumpster diving is not one of my hobbies, I have been known to crawl into one in years past. And, I do occasionally stop and pick up items placed at the roadside for trash pickup.

One man’s trash is another’s treasure.

One such treasure was a large stuffed lion that stood about 3 feet tall.  He was sturdy – apparently a toy intended for children to sit upon.  His huge shaggy head bore a mane, big eyes and a goofy grin.

A treasure you ask?  Yes!  And, a priceless one at that.

I placed it in our backyard and turned Daughter’s two dachshunds out the back door.  The response was immediate and hilarious.

The lion moved to Mom’s house and now stands guard on her patio – he keeps the neighbor’s cats away.

One man’s trash….

Perfectly good items are relegated to the trash simply because tossing is easier and quicker than

  • finding the items a new home,
  • taking them to GoodWill or the Salvation Army,
  • dropping them in a collection box,
  • selling them on Ebay,
  • figuring out what’s wrong with it,
  • and fixing it.

…another’s treasure.

As I neared Mom’s house, something red caught my eye.  It was across the street from her house, at the side of the road, standing beside the trashcan.  It was trash day.

Mom met me at her back door. The red had caught her eye, too.

“What’s that sitting over there by the trashcan?” Mom asked. “Is that a vacuum?”

I told her it looked like a perfectly good vacuum and that I was tempted to save it from the trash compactor.  Mom laughed and we went inside.

I needed a vacuum.  Throughout our house we have wood floors in all rooms except one – the living room.  The sweeper vacs that I have just don’t deep clean the carpet.  I couldn’t justify the expense of a vacuum…not for one room and not when $$ is tight.

Several times I looked out at the red vacuum – I was certain it was a Dirt Devil. And, several times I almost headed out the door to claim it before the trash truck did.

You never know what you’re getting when you take things from the trash.  And, if it’s something you intend to bring into your home…well…you want to make sure it’s clean and won’t infect or infest you or your home.

This was a vacuum.  And, what is it vacuums do?  Yeah…they suck up trash, dirt, dust, filth, bugs….

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I prayed about it.

And, I decided that if the trash guys left it alone and it was still standing after they collected the trash and moved on…then I would cross the street and claim it.

They did leave it – didn’t even touch it.

It’s a little…embarrassing to pick up something someone else has discarded, so I hesitated.

A quiet urging prompted me to claim the neighbor’s trash as my treasure.

I quickly crossed the street and returned, dragging the vacuum behind me.

The vacuum looked clean on the outside.  Of course, it was the inside that concerned me. And, I wondered if it would even run.

Outside, under Mom’s carport, I plugged the vacuum in and turned it on. The motor started but there was no suction.

I removed the vacuum bag, placed it into a plastic bag, sealed it and tossed it into Mom’s trashcan.

Then, I checked the vacuum for blockages – there were none. Next, I checked the belt – it was broken.

Certain that was the problem…the ONLY problem…I purchased one and a pack of vacuum bags to fit it.

Did it work?  You betcha it did.

Am I using it in my house?

Oh, yes!

Am I embarrassed to tell you I turn trash into treasure?

Nope.

God does it all the time – takes someone broken and fixes them up…good as new.

One man’s trash is Another’s treasure.

Daddy’s Jeans

I’d put it off all Summer and here I was, leaning hard toward Fall, knowing I couldn’t delay any longer.

The stepping stones in Mom’s front yard were overgrown by grass – so much so that most of them could hardly be seen.

Placed there more years ago than I can remember, they had settled into the ground until they were an inch or more below ground level.  The grass grew right over the top of them.

The mower couldn’t remove it.  A weed-eater was needed.

I had one – a brand, spanking new one.  Never used.  Still shiny and clean.  I’d bought it a couple of years ago and never used it.

Why?  Well…I was afraid of it.  Have you ever been whipped by a weed-eater’s string?  It hurts – leaves a bruise and can cut through your skin.

Yes, it can. I know it can.

Did you know weed-eaters throw rocks? Rocks hurt when they smack into your shin going a million miles an hour.

And, if there’s something hiding in the grass, weed-eaters can find it and fling it with amazing accuracy.

Ouch!

I know better than to use a weed-eater while wearing shorts and flip-flops. (Some lessons I learn the first time – this was one.)

The thought of wearing long pants in 90+ weather (with as much humidity) while lugging that heavy weed-eater around the yard under the blazing sun tuckered me out and prompted me to procrastinate.

It didn’t bother me if the yard looked a little fuzzy around the edges and the stepping stones didn’t show.  But, it bothered Mom.

So, yesterday, I lugged my brand new weed-eater down to her house and announced my intent.  I received the expected warnings and also a piece of advice.

“Don’t look at the bottom of the weed-eater.  It will slap you in the face!”

I asked Mom how that bit of advice came about and she said, “Your Daddy did, and it started up somehow, and the string caught him in the face.”

Right then and there I determined that I would unplug the thing if I needed to look at its bottom. I sure didn’t want to get slapped.

With the extension cord plugged in, I took the weed-eater into the back yard and as far from where Mom sat on the patio as I could get.  I didn’t want my first attempt with the trimmer to be met with scrutiny.

I’d not had my finger on the trigger long enough for the string to make more than five revolutions when the end of the string broke off and slammed into my bare shin.

Yes.  I was wearing shorts. (Ok, so maybe I didn’t learn the lesson as well as I thought.) No, I did not have on flip-flops.  I had on my old ugly work shoes.

I looked down to see a red blood blister rising and a red streak swelling.  It stung and if I’d been a child, I would have sat down and cried.

Twice more I felt the sting and watched the welts rise.

When the weed-eater threw one of those million mile an hour rocks and connected with my ankle bone I called it quits.  The backyard was done.  The front yard could wait – forever as far as I was concerned.

As I approached Mom with weed-eater in hand, Mom asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  I’m finished with the backyard,” I lied.

“Are you going to do the front yard now?” she asked.

“After I get back from my house. I’m going to put on a pair of jeans before I trim anymore.  This thing is tearing my legs to pieces,” I said.

Mom paused, looked me up and down, and then said, “Why don’t you wear a pair of your daddy’s jeans?  They’re hanging right there in the washroom.”

“Wear Daddy’s jeans?  I can’t wear Daddy’s jeans!” I stammered.

“And, why not?  He won’t care. It’s not like he’s going to need them,” she offered.

“They won’t fit me,” I argued.

“You won’t know until you try.  Just go get a pair and see,” she said.

So, I did.

With shorts still on, I slipped my shoes into the legs of the pants and pulled them up.  The waist was several inches too big (gratefully), but they were the right length.  And, I discovered to my delight that when I released my hold on the jeans, they simply settled lower and rested loosely on my hips – I wouldn’t need a belt or the suspenders Mom offered.

And so with shirt tucked into shorts and shorts tucked into Daddy’s jeans, I grabbed the weed-eater and headed out to get ‘er done.

I’ll admit – I felt a lot safer in Daddy’s jeans than I did when my legs had no protection at all.  No longer timid, I waded into whatever area I was trimming and dared the string to do its worst.

Daddy’s jeans, like Superman’s cape, would protect me from harm.