Sparky Vs Technology

Hello Gentle Readers! I wanted to share why I have been silent of late in our virtual world. I’m having difficulties with my Google account, well “accounts”, it seems. I can’t leave comments on most blogs, including Blogger, anymore. Apparently, I have two accounts (didn’t realize that) but since I have about a gazillion e-mail addresses, I don’t remember which one I used where. I’m so meticulous at making notes but apparently this one escaped me. My bad. ๐Ÿ˜… Part of my difficulty is I “lost” my Genealogy Red Bird Acres & Irisheyes webpages when Verizon bought up the Yahoo! pages that was hosting the site. First, I was locked out. Then I let myself get ticked off dealing with “Jason” (yeah, right) in India. Thus, I canceled ’em. BUT, I had e-mail addresses from there too and they no longer work. ๐Ÿ˜ฎโ€๐Ÿ’จ Anyway, back to Google, one can not merge accounts with them at this time, so, like a 4-wheel drive truck drove too deep into the swamp, I’m really and truly stuck up to the axel far from help. ๐Ÿ˜› I’ve tried all kinds of virtual gymnastics. Thus far, nothing has changed the predicament. One has to laugh, though, ’cause just when one thinks one is totally conversant in a subject ๐Ÿ’ฅboom๐Ÿ’ฅ along comes a difficulty in that subject and I’m stuck in the mud. For now I give up. So, that’s why I haven’t left comments anywhere. I don’t know where or what to do from here. ๐Ÿฅต Aw, yes, the troubles of modern life. ๐Ÿ˜†๐Ÿ˜† But please, know that I am reading all your blogs. And I do pray for you all. ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป So, it’s:

Google – 1
Sparky –
๐Ÿ˜•

I don’t think that score will change anytime soon. ๐Ÿ’ฃ And, I am reminded that …

And, just an FYI, there is a 24 hour tummy bug makin’ the rounds. It’s nasty! ๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿคข I’ve been stricken with it this week, no big drama, but it’s left me feeling weak, sore and out of sorts. Somehow I’ve managed to soldier through yesterday to insure that Steve’s birthday was a happy one. I was totally sick on the way home and he not only nursed me the entire hour home but drove too. I don’t know how he did it but he did it with style, grace, love, good humour and his usual panache. โค He’s such a special guy and I feel super blessed. โค

๐ŸŽ‚ The Birthday Boy at Skippers’ Fish Camp, Darien, GA ๐ŸŽ

Thank you for stopping by. If anyone has any difficulties leaving a comment on my blog, please let me know. My e-mail address is on the Contact page. I hope I’m the only one with this problem and it just kinda fixes itself.

God bless.

Can You Smell That Smell

Steve returned safely from his Florida excursion earlier this week. Itโ€™s an 7-8 hour trip down and the same on the return. He said the traffic was wall-to-wall and tree top tall. There are so many people living there now. He said that will probably be his last long trip on 2 wheels, and possibly no more even in the truck. Well, he is 73. It took a lot out of him. Whenever he returns from those visits I have to do the laundry right away. His sister uses some brand of smelly detergent that has such a raucous odor I call it The Entity as it seems to have a life of its own by permeating everything near it. Ugh. I have a sensitive sniffer. In the photo on the right, it’s his brother-in-law Don, Steve, and his nephew Bobby.

Yesterday, we met Steveโ€™s Mom at a local Oncologist for a 2 month check concerning her platelet levels. They had been way too high, but now the Doc said she is normal. A few months previous, by mutual consent, it was deemed much safer for her to take the medical transport available through the Nursing Home. They keep her strapped into a wheelchair so that she remains level, calm and stable. The ride is easier on her rather than trying to shove her into one of our tall pickup trucks. While waiting for the doctor, she shared with us that after being weighed this week, she went from 98 lbs to 91 lbs. Thatโ€™s quite a significant loss for such a small framed woman! Since I hadnโ€™t been near her for a month, I noticed that she is suddenly getting much more frail. Then, twice while waiting, she had to use the bathroom. I have to go with her for obvious reasons. As always I turn around to give her privacy. This time, though, she couldnโ€™t work the paper, and the odor that now comes from that frail body! Oh. My. Word. It smells like (forgive me) the worse kind of vomit and I’m accustomed to cleaning up after dog sick and other accidents. Wow. I didn’t mind helping, of course, but on the ride home I felt mentally exhausted and kept fighting back the tears. I can see that she is slipping away. Inch by inch. Miserable day by miserable day. Poor dear. And she never complains. I really admire her courage. I’m so glad she believes in Jesus so I don’t have to worry about her final destination. What a comfort He gives us all.

In the mornings, we try to watch the Greg Gutfeld (Fox News) Show that gets posted to YouTube. On one of his shows this week, he talked about a young girl whoโ€™s Famous For Being Famous that is now selling a product called Fart In A Jar. Now, I do not for one minute think the product is real back-side emissions. Sheโ€™s replicating it somehow. But it shows yet another sign of our declining times, don’t ya think? P. T. Barnum was right. Thereโ€™s a sucker born every minute.

๐ŸŽ„ Ride Safe โœจโค๏ธ

Joy, Sadness, And What’s Between

No Wordless Wednesday today. There’s too much to be said. My, what a week this has been. Like all things in life, it’s mixed with joy, sadness and the little things that happen betwixt and between.

The joy: Steve took off for the far off land of Florida to visit with his sister, Cindy Gaye, and her family. By all accounts he had a nice visit. He’s not quite returned yet but I’m sure he will have loads of photos from the visit. The other inmates are Amberlee (niece) who will be 18 (what happened?! lol) next year, Bobby (nephew) who is almost 30 and still living at home. Yeah, there’s a story there. He is a bit of a disappointment but it is what it is. We all have to chose our way through life. Guess he’s chosen his. Oh, and also her husband Don.

The sadness: God called a very dear soul Home on Saturday. Liam is the son of one of my best friends, Simply Linda and her husband. Such wonderful, kindly, Christian folks. Liam had a dodgy heart, and when the State of New York locked their home down with no medical treatments because of their demonic religion Covid, the stress took his life. I keep feeling a mixture of anger (at how it lead to this event), sadness (that he’s not here anymore) and joy (at his being with Jesus forever). I still keep bursting out in tears. It’ll pass. Probably sooner than it should but I will continue on and remember this dear boy always. It’s what God wants for us. We have work to do!

The between: Sunday, we exchanged gifts with one another and sang happy Christmas songs. The photo on the left is a gift from our Pastor’s wife, Jackie. She makes the loveliest things. Jackie is the one that has encouraged me to make those nice felt blankets for the dogs. ๐Ÿ• We are also doubly blessed to have Pastor Bob & Jackie as neighbors. Anyway, the gifts are quilted place mats. And the mugs are from them both. Starting Monday, while Steve was in Florida, I’ve stayed as busy as I could without reinjuring my neck and shoulder. I moved Longleaf Pine straw to another part of the yard for decoration. Then I cleaned the outhouse after all the summer use and tidied the house, did extra laundry, like what the dogs lay on and such. And so forth and so on. ๐Ÿ˜

Guess I’d better hit “send” or I’ll never get this posted. ๐Ÿ˜‰ Thank you for stopping by. I pray your day, and the rest of your week, are full of joy, happy moments and nothing but good news.

๐Ÿ’– Ride Safe Folks โœจ

Down For The Count

I’ve injured my right shoulder and neck. Again. How? Earlier this week we had bought 6-40 lb bags of water softener salt and a 50 lb bag of sunflower seeds for the wild birds at Ace. It was so hot by the time we got home I put off unloading the truck. Naturally, I forgot they were back there. Yesterday morning we needed to run errands in town, so, in the drizzling rain, we both proceeded to put the bags in the storage shed. Well dummy me, I got too rambunctious, lifting at rapid speed, and put my shoulder out. Now I’ve got that biting pain from an old injury. Why? ‘Cause I’m stupid, that’s why. Sometimes I forget I’m not 18 anymore. ๐Ÿ˜€

I had dumped all the cookies off this laptop in preparation for taking it in for repairs. It’s a security thing I had been taught to do before any repair work is to be performed. The cooling fan is rattlin’. When it overheats, it suddenly shuts down. Very annoying and probably not too good for it. So, we drove all the way to Waycross in the rain, in the morning heavy traffic, to drop it at the only shop around and the stinker wasn’t even open!!! This happens so often here it seems. And, no, it’s not because of the head cold hysteria plandemic this time. Small businesses have been like this since we moved to Southeast Georgia in 1993. Good work ethics are definitely becoming a rarity in these modern times. It’s no wonder so many of them go belly up in the first year.

Disappointment in check, we headed towards the Home-20 in the now lighter traffic but still raining and stopped at the local meat market. The order wasn’t ready and had to wait. And wait. And wait. That’s Ok, we’ve got time, but it was setting the pace for the day. Back home I started inputting the passwords at my websites, and some of the passwords didn’t work. “Now what!?” I yelled at no one in particular. So, I had to keep fiddlin’ with this dadgum thing. Now because I got impatient, I’m locked out of one of the websites, and, like I said, the pain had took over, which put me down for the count. Couldn’t move without being in discomfort. Stopped what I was doing because I had to put the heated bean bag โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ on my shoulder (old injury-heat / new injury-cold), use the massager to stop the โœจ crackling noise in my neck and seeing stars โœจ from the muscle clinching, take a pain killer, and sit v.e.r.y s.t.i.l.l. like a Good Little Do-Bee. ๐Ÿ I’m happy, it just weighs on my mind when this happens. The pain brings back such unhappy memories of sitting around or trying to sleep for days on end in agony. It’s my own fault, though. I know. I swear, sometimes I’ve got the memory and the patience of a 2 year old.

It just seems like it was one thing after two others yesterday.

As compensation last night, not only did my super sweet, loving, angel, husband cook one of his usual award winning suppers, he also cleaned up for moi. (That’s usually my job.) Isn’t he a gem? ๐Ÿ’Ž And I promised ๐Ÿ˜‡ on a stack of Bibles to not lift anything heavy like that again ……. until next time. ๐Ÿ˜‚ ๐Ÿ˜œ

Anyway, on to something happier.

Spurred Butterfly Pea
(Clitoria ternatea)

On one of my evening prayer walks the other day, I noticed that many of our native “Spurred Butterfly Pea” are in bloom. Sorry the picture’s not too good. The light was too harsh. There’s more about them here. The flowers have a soft lilac color. They’re pretty for such a tiny flower. And for me, their appearance, like the Sulfur Butterflies, always denote that Summer is heading towards the end, for which I am very grateful.

Which brings me to the end of my post, for which I’m sure YOU are grateful. LOL Thanks for stopping by. I hope your day is truly blessed!