Give me strength. 

Body builders work for strength; writers give points to get stronger; I pray, Lord give me strength. I’ve read that our help/strength comes from the Lord. It doesn’t matter if you need physical or mental strength, God has an abundance. 
II Chronicles 16:9 ERV: The eyes of the LORD go around looking in all the earth for people who are faithful to him so that he can make them strong.

Is Time On My Side?

I don’t want to miss a thing. Do I want quantity or quality? Why can’t I have both. If I rush, will I miss you? Or will you join me in tying to beat time? Your reply, let’s steady our pace, hold hands and walk together.


Always in a rush
Careful now, you’ll miss something
There’s not much time left

Slow down a moment
Think before you try to cheat
Time is on your side

Thank You, Shakespeare


I bought a Fitbit for the steps and pulse features. Something else, sleep, alerted my doctor and me to a problem. Insomnia, habitual sleeplessness.  Causes are:

  • Awakening during the night
  • Awakening too early
  • Not feeling well rested after a night’s sleep
  • Daytime tiredness or sleepiness
  • Irritability, depression or anxiety
  • Difficulty paying attention, focusing on tasks or remembering
  • Increased errors or accidents
  • Tension headaches
  • Distress in the stomach and intestines (gastrointestinal tract)
  • Ongoing worries about sleep.

I could check all of theses, especially for the last 10 years.

Get thee to the Sleep Professionals for a sleep study. The outcome is apnea and a fitting for a monitor. I stop breathing during the night, and the monitor supplies air to keep my airway open.

I don’t have the monitor yet. No one seems in a rush, it is a mild case. In the meantime, I’m more aware of my failing to memory; the necessity for a nap and a symptom I didn’t know could be related, stomach distress. Monday morning I’ll get training and my monitor. I’m praying I’ll have immediate relief of all my symptoms. I’ve been warned it takes awhile to get use to the apparatus. I guess I should be praying for patience.



Caring For Your Schnauzer by Ima Le’Amature

Ronovan’s Friday Fiction is a challenge this week. Humor from one who can’t tell a joke?  Let’s give it a whirl.


Caring For Your Schnauzer

by Ima Le’Amature

Chapter 4 Toys

You’ll recall in chapter 1 I discussed that a Schnauzer’s intent and  purpose is to be a ratter. Your pet will enthusiastically hunt and kill any small varmint and bring it back to lie at your feet. Of course the dog wants his reward for doing a superlative job, and stands there with his stub of a tail doing a helicopter style wag. It’s quite alarming to look down and see a small grey mole gasping for it’s last breath. What was I to do, give the creature mouth to mouth resuscitation?

With this incident in mind, you think of what will distract your dog from this dark deed of murder. Off we go to The Pet Store. Have you wondered what people did before pet stores? Dishes, water dispensers, beds, products to groom, products to keep the dog away from your precious plants, dental products, vitamins, treats not to mention isles after isles of dog food, and last, but never least, toys.

Here in the multiple displays and enormous bins you’ll find toys that are soft and some made of plastic or raw hide. There are toys that squeak, talk and or move. Some toys that encourage fetching, as in balls, balls made to resemble tennis balls. (Why not buy some balls from Wall Mart? It’s cheaper, and you get 3 balls.) You’ll find smooth balls, balls with tiny nubs, rubber balls, plastic balls, balls that have a light that comes on when the ball moves.

There’s a case devoted for animal toys, anything from alligators, skunks and zebras. Right next to these you’ll find braided ropes in tri colors or solids, in school colors, and in assorted sizes for the Chihuahua or mega-enormous dogs with a warning to “watch your hands, use at your own peril.”

I’ve found that dogs tend to have different styles of play with toys. Let’s say you have an aggressive dog and you bring home an adorable raccoon  that squeaks. Your pet is super excited, a toy! Gently you show your dog the toy. Before you can say bingo, the little carnivore rips it from your hand along with a piece of your own skin. All day long he has the toy and disappears for hours at a time. In the distance you can hear the squeak, squeak of the infernal toy. At last silence. You think you better check. Sitting on his comfy bed is your pet with the last of the plastic squeaker hanging from his eye tooth, surrounded by the fake fur of the funny stuffed toy. an ear here, a tail there. In one day your pet is given a new name, Beast. You are in shock. You are optimistic. It was because it is his first toy and you buy another one. The last time you tell yourself as the same outcome happens with the toy kitty. (See Chapter 13 Will Your Dog Die From eating Squeaker Toys?)

Please give me your critique.

The Markham’s



“If there is one thing I learned, it’s that history repeats over time. You know, Dulcie, there’s something our family carries and passes on to their children. We just seem to be doomed to have misery, desperation and just plain ol’ misfortune. I know it’ll be tough having all of us under one roof, but, hon it’s just two days.”

Rose made Dulcie’s bed hospital style, rolling her over to one side of the bed, tuck the sheets, and then roll her to the other side, smoothing and tucking as she finished. She kept talking not pausing as she worked. She knew Dulcie wouldn’t mind. She hadn’t moved or spoken since she had a stroke in 2013.

“This has been the oddest Fall we’ve ever had. I looked for the leaves to change in October. Here we are slap dab in the middle of December and leaves are still hanging on. Remember we had the windows open last week, and this week we need the heat.”

Rose’s intent was to entertain Dulcie and try to soothe her. She had been in a silent snit since she told her she had invited the whole family for Christmas dinner. Well, who would have thought they’d all say yes. The last time they all showed up was mam’s funeral in February of ’91. Vultures! They came thinking the sisters would stand silently by and let them strip mam’s home of antiques. That was before Dulcie’s stroke. She was the oldest and always was the one to take charge. Rose laughed to herself. I wish someone had filmed the reading of the will. No one thought mam would leave a will. Mam left the sisters, her daughters, everything, lock, stock and barrel.

At first, one or another of mam’s siblings called or wrote letters pleading their case over one piece or another. Uncle Bill’s lawyer sent a letter reminding the girls as the oldest he was next in line for inheriting from the estate mam left her children. The muttering and dismay heated up over time, and everyone stopped talking.

Twenty-two years. It didn’t seem that long, thought Dulcie as Rose left her room. Rose always referred to the alcoholism that effected members of their family line as the misfortune or the misery. It was the reason their father disappeared in ’51 when Dulcie was 11 and Rose was 4.

Rose had a streak of kindness that dominated her. Her wish for a big happy family never materialized. Dulcie prayed that this Christmas would prove different, at the same time she feared it was a wasted prayer. This week would be the test.






The End or a New Beginning


Rod Stewart-Have You Ever Seen The Rain

John Fogerty wrote this as  a break up song for Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Beth put the finishing touches on the trays of food and lit the candles. Brad promised to be there early to help, as usual he didn’t show. His excuses were getting weaker. The party was his idea, a small soiree with a few of their clients on a Friday evening. At least he remembered to have the wine delivered early.

The doorbell chimed. “I’m coming Carol. Thank, God. I’m so happy to see you. Again thanks for coming last minute.”

“What happened to Brad?” she said.

“I haven’t heard a peep? Here’s an apron. Put some music on and then help me put a couple of the wine bottles out. Watch and as they empty  replace them.”

“Who’s coming, the usual suspects?” her sister said.

“Not this time. It’s a few of our clients, the Brewster’s, the vice mayor, Charlie and Belle, Freddie and his partner, and a few others, I think. People Brad invited last minute.”

“Don’t you two talk? You work together and date…You all still date, don’t you?”

Beth opened a bottle of Apothic Red, her new favorite. “Come sit. I invited you for another reason. I need your advice. Remember how you cautioned me about getting involved with someone in the work place?”

“Yeah, sure what’s up? Are you getting some signals from good, old late Brad?”

Beth looked up with glassy eyes, trying to keep the tears back. “Yes. He’s turned into the mystery man. We don’t talk about our cases. He’s had to break dates. I’ve got a terrible feeling that this is leading to the big break up. Tonight tops off a string of broken promises?”

The doorbell chimed and they put on their happy faces to greet their guest. The people arrived as a group. Beth greeted them as Carol took their coats and told them to leave the gifts they brought on the coffee table.

Beth was kept busy as the guest asked about Brad. Carol opened the wine and made sure everyone was served. The party warmed up and the chatter was lively. Laughter drifted through the house. Everyone was relaxed and enjoying the food and the music. Carol thought with or without Brad the night was a success

Beth was growing more furious each minute. She couldn’t imagine what excuse he could have for missing his own party. I can’t wait to give him a piece of mind! Did I say that out loud, she thought? No, but I think I’m loosing my mind!”

Then the doorbell rang and everyone stopped talking and turned to watch as Beth went to answer.

Is this the end or a new beginning?

This is my first time to participate in Ronovan’s Friday Fiction. Please don’t hold back with constructive criticism.




Dad’s Homemade Eggnog

Tradition! Every Christmas season when all the family got together, Dad made eggnog, even the children had a cup.

How To Make Homemade Eggnog

This recipe makes 12 cups. It can be divided by 1/2 or multiplied to suit the number you wish to serve.

12 large eggs
2 cup sugar
3 to 4 cups whole milk
1 to 2 cups bourbon
nutmeg, to serve


  1. Separate the eggs: Separate the eggs, placing the yolks in punch bowl and the whites in another.
  2. Whisk the yolks with the sugar: Daddy used a hand held mixer – Combine the yolks and the sugar in  punch bowl
  3. Mix in the milk and liquor  Pour the milk and liquor into the bowl with the egg until frothy.
  1. Beat the egg whites:  mixer at high speed until the whites form stiff peaks.
  2. Fold the egg whites into the eggnog: Transfer the beaten egg whites to the bowl with the eggnog and gently fold or stir the whites into the base — this gives the eggnog a frothy, extra-creamy texture. Some of the egg whites will also float to the top, like cappuccino foam.
  3. Serve the eggnog: provide nutmeg to be added by the individual to their cup.
This recipe is copied and additions made as I recall from watching my father.

Eggnog was being served in England to the aristocracy. The drink made its way across the Atlantic to the American colonies during the 18th century.

The farmer’s habit was to make the concoction while the eggs and milk were plentiful and age it until the winter set in when those ingredients were scarce. They always used some form of alcohol as a preservative and sterilizer. Eggnog can be kept 6 months to a year.