I can't believe it has finally happened! One of my friends has named their baby after me! Yes, ME! I don't suppose this would be important to most people, but for years I have complained that I've tried to live my life so that people would name their babies after me. It just wasn't happening.
Now my husband's response to that has always been, "Do you think it is because you are a bit bombastic?"
The audacity! First of all, what does the word mean? And, where did HE get it? Had to look it up in the dictionary. I wasn't to impressed. Soooo I looked it up in my synonym finder....a fat book with all of 1356 pages, and that with fine print!!! Most of those words I couldn't even pronounce. I settled for a few that I could,...like "impressive", .."flowery", and "pompous". Take my word for it and don't go looking it up. I had always feared it sort of referred to a bomb going off. Cleared that up, but maybe I have a better understanding as to why people wouldn't want a precious little baby to ever seem bombastic!
These precious people, however said they have never known another Twila, and wanted me to know I was the honored one.
I have watched down through the ;years as friends have named their babies after fathers, mothers, aunts, and yes, friends. My sister-in-law's friend named her first child after her...Priscilla. When I was a child, I used to hate my name. But isn't "Twila" as pretty a name as "Priscilla"? On the other hand however, I can somewhat see how this might happen. Priscilla is such a sweet, caring, quiet person! Now I've never ever meant to be anything but sweet to people. And as for caring...hey, I tear up when I see a funeral procession...and I don't even have a clue who died!!
Now, quiet...that's probably the stumper. I think I may have dropped the ball here. My own dear mother has worked a lifetime to try to get me to laugh more
quietly. I have honestly tried. But when something is funny---I can't help it! I'd explode otherwise, and that would be much more "lnlady-like". I think even Mother would agree to that.
I'm still working some on the art of being quiet when at times, like the laughter, it is almost impossible to hold in. I AM getting better...I know I am. Just recently a guy started spouting off his views about something he knew I was in opposition to, trying to get me to argue with him. He had his say and acted pretty smug! But I won! Everyone there knew my opinion, and felt the same, but I kept my mouth shut. I even offered him some of the food we were enjoying. Maybe I am growing up---maybe God put his hand over my mouth--Thank you Lord! At any rate, I was quiet. HOORAY!
I can't help how I was made but I know God has delighted in me. He has told me so! I just hope this little name sake can have the life of God's peace and enjoyment that I have had. Even if she should turn out to be a bit bombastic!!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Saturday, November 20, 2010
A good impression......Not
Martha and I hadn't seen each other in twenty-five years. She remembered me as a goof ball in school who made others laugh during class. I remembered her as a perfect girl, but one who had a low threshold of laughter.
I would entertain those around me with various objects just below the table where the teacher couldn't see. Hey, I was bored! It really wasn't that funny! They must have been bored also. And, for some reason, my friends were always getting in to trouble for laughing. They never reported me as the culprit. Perhaps they were to ashamed to tell that what they had laughed at was so trivial.
After twenty-five years, a person should forget that, right? She didn't ! She recalled the two little plastic dogs I'd carry in my pencil case and the antics they would perform. My youthful pranks still lived on in her memory! But, as I prepared for this visit, I determined to show her I had grown up, had children, and had become a very mature person.
During part of our time together, we visited a nearby area that has lots of Amish shops. One stop was an older home that had been made into a fabric and novelty store. My daughter and Martha went on ahead of me and were in the downstairs part when I came in. Because Amish do not use electricity, the stairs were pretty dark. It didn't help any that there was a very dark, heavy set of curtains at the bottom. These were there to keep some of the heat downstairs. In this darkness I did not see the yellow tape on one of the steps, marking it as more shallow than the rest. I missed that step and went flying through mid-air. There was no railing and I flailed in every direction to grab hold of something. The drapes were my only salvation. But, they only served as a rope to swing me right into the room like a monkey. As if that weren't enough, I landed on a table piled with bolts of fabric. On impact, the bolts flew off the table and I sat there stunned. Worse yet, Martha and Heather were right there facing my direction, and saw the whole thing.
Now, my daughter is somewhat (in a disgusted way) used to these things. She often says, "Hey, that's my mom. She does things like that!" Martha, on the other hand, was immediately out of control with laughter and found the quickest way out.
Heather helped me gather up the bolts of fabric and put them back. As for the curtains, there was little I could do to remedy that. Although the rod had not broken, it was in a sharp "V" shape with the curtains cowering in the middle.
We made a small purchase from the Amish girl who couldn't seem to take her enlarged eyes off me. When Heather and I got back to the van, we found Martha still sobbing with laughter. Our men, who had been waiting in the van, implored us to give a speedy explanation as to what had happened. I lamely said, "Hey, I fell and Martha thinks it's funny." This remark sent Martha into more gales of laughter. My husband said Martha came out and crossed the street weeping so hard she could hardly walk or talk. As they tried to pump her with "Where's Twila and Heather? " she only sobbed more and couldn't answer. Seeing her crying so hard, they began to feel we had come to some serious harm. Only as they started to get out of the van and my husband asked, "Are they alright?" She managed to squeak out, "They're ok," and went on sobbing. It wasn't until sometime later I got the vision of how that had to look in Martha and the Amish girl's eyes. Everything is peaceful and quiet. Suddenly this woman--a size 18 isn't really that small--comes swinging in on a curtain and lands on a table of fabric bolts. Yes, had that been someone else, I'd be laughing too. So much for proving I was no longer that high school class clown! There was no comparison! Being and artist, I drew up a cartoon of the act and sent it to Martha some months later. She told me she has kept in in her Bible for years, and said any time she needs a lift, she takes it out, looks at it and weeps with laughter all over again. At my expense, I guess she gets a drop of oil now and then that keeps her machinery running smothly.
A drop of oil: Have you ever had times when just a little laughter has helped to lighten your load? One such time occurred when our daughter was in college. She had come home one weekend totally devastated. Some unfortunate circumstances had happened and some people she had trusted, proved not to be true friends. She lay across my bed that evening telling me all about it. I reached over and took a book off the night stand and said, "Heather, Lois loaned me this book, saying it might help in times like this. I guess it's really funny!"
Heather responded, "Nothing, and I mean nothing could make me laugh tonight."
I said, "Oh well, I'll read some of it anyway," and commenced to read aloud.
I don't remember the title or the author, but that dear lady had some of the funniest things happen to her. She had bothered to put them into print and now we could relate to some them. As I read, we were soon slapping the bed and laughing till the tears ran.
No, it didn't change the situation any, didn't fix any problems, but it did lift our spirits. At the time, I said, "Perhaps that's why so many unusual things have happened to me. I can tell them to someone else and as they laugh at my experiences, it will be a drop of oil in their machinery.
Alright Lord, I accept who You have made me to be. Maybe that unusual, embarrassing episode will help someone under a load. Possibly some dear lady can find a little humor in those events I clearly didn't plan. I do accept being a drop of oil for You, Lord. But must I really be the whole can?
I would entertain those around me with various objects just below the table where the teacher couldn't see. Hey, I was bored! It really wasn't that funny! They must have been bored also. And, for some reason, my friends were always getting in to trouble for laughing. They never reported me as the culprit. Perhaps they were to ashamed to tell that what they had laughed at was so trivial.
After twenty-five years, a person should forget that, right? She didn't ! She recalled the two little plastic dogs I'd carry in my pencil case and the antics they would perform. My youthful pranks still lived on in her memory! But, as I prepared for this visit, I determined to show her I had grown up, had children, and had become a very mature person.
During part of our time together, we visited a nearby area that has lots of Amish shops. One stop was an older home that had been made into a fabric and novelty store. My daughter and Martha went on ahead of me and were in the downstairs part when I came in. Because Amish do not use electricity, the stairs were pretty dark. It didn't help any that there was a very dark, heavy set of curtains at the bottom. These were there to keep some of the heat downstairs. In this darkness I did not see the yellow tape on one of the steps, marking it as more shallow than the rest. I missed that step and went flying through mid-air. There was no railing and I flailed in every direction to grab hold of something. The drapes were my only salvation. But, they only served as a rope to swing me right into the room like a monkey. As if that weren't enough, I landed on a table piled with bolts of fabric. On impact, the bolts flew off the table and I sat there stunned. Worse yet, Martha and Heather were right there facing my direction, and saw the whole thing.
Now, my daughter is somewhat (in a disgusted way) used to these things. She often says, "Hey, that's my mom. She does things like that!" Martha, on the other hand, was immediately out of control with laughter and found the quickest way out.
Heather helped me gather up the bolts of fabric and put them back. As for the curtains, there was little I could do to remedy that. Although the rod had not broken, it was in a sharp "V" shape with the curtains cowering in the middle.
We made a small purchase from the Amish girl who couldn't seem to take her enlarged eyes off me. When Heather and I got back to the van, we found Martha still sobbing with laughter. Our men, who had been waiting in the van, implored us to give a speedy explanation as to what had happened. I lamely said, "Hey, I fell and Martha thinks it's funny." This remark sent Martha into more gales of laughter. My husband said Martha came out and crossed the street weeping so hard she could hardly walk or talk. As they tried to pump her with "Where's Twila and Heather? " she only sobbed more and couldn't answer. Seeing her crying so hard, they began to feel we had come to some serious harm. Only as they started to get out of the van and my husband asked, "Are they alright?" She managed to squeak out, "They're ok," and went on sobbing. It wasn't until sometime later I got the vision of how that had to look in Martha and the Amish girl's eyes. Everything is peaceful and quiet. Suddenly this woman--a size 18 isn't really that small--comes swinging in on a curtain and lands on a table of fabric bolts. Yes, had that been someone else, I'd be laughing too. So much for proving I was no longer that high school class clown! There was no comparison! Being and artist, I drew up a cartoon of the act and sent it to Martha some months later. She told me she has kept in in her Bible for years, and said any time she needs a lift, she takes it out, looks at it and weeps with laughter all over again. At my expense, I guess she gets a drop of oil now and then that keeps her machinery running smothly.
A drop of oil: Have you ever had times when just a little laughter has helped to lighten your load? One such time occurred when our daughter was in college. She had come home one weekend totally devastated. Some unfortunate circumstances had happened and some people she had trusted, proved not to be true friends. She lay across my bed that evening telling me all about it. I reached over and took a book off the night stand and said, "Heather, Lois loaned me this book, saying it might help in times like this. I guess it's really funny!"
Heather responded, "Nothing, and I mean nothing could make me laugh tonight."
I said, "Oh well, I'll read some of it anyway," and commenced to read aloud.
I don't remember the title or the author, but that dear lady had some of the funniest things happen to her. She had bothered to put them into print and now we could relate to some them. As I read, we were soon slapping the bed and laughing till the tears ran.
No, it didn't change the situation any, didn't fix any problems, but it did lift our spirits. At the time, I said, "Perhaps that's why so many unusual things have happened to me. I can tell them to someone else and as they laugh at my experiences, it will be a drop of oil in their machinery.
Alright Lord, I accept who You have made me to be. Maybe that unusual, embarrassing episode will help someone under a load. Possibly some dear lady can find a little humor in those events I clearly didn't plan. I do accept being a drop of oil for You, Lord. But must I really be the whole can?
Friday, November 19, 2010
Getting it Write!!!
Hello ladies. . . the purpose of this blog is to share some of the hilarious stories that I am including in my new book. . . A Drop of Oil... The truth of the matter is that these stories are not embellished much. They really happened to me. I am sharing them simply because I have found that, in telling these, it has often helped cheer my friends and acquaintances. One of these incidents I will share resulted in uncontrollable laughter on the part of my friend, Martha. I am an artist, so I drew a cartoon some months later and sent it to her. For years, she told me she has kept it in her Bible. When she's feeling down, she pulls it out and soon is laughing all over again.
Like the drop of oil in squeaky machinery, I have decided to share some of my experiences to lighten the burden and perhaps help to keep the machinery of life going smoothly for others. So enjoy my blogspot and visit often as I will have new drops of oil on here.
Like the drop of oil in squeaky machinery, I have decided to share some of my experiences to lighten the burden and perhaps help to keep the machinery of life going smoothly for others. So enjoy my blogspot and visit often as I will have new drops of oil on here.
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