The Mammogram Blues

Thank you for all the birthday wishes yesterday; it was a fun day. (I'll write more about it later.)

Today is not feeling quite as happy since I woke up singin' The Mammogram Blues. I’ll head out in just a couple moments for that wonderful, wondrous, wonder-why-I-have-to-do-it appointment. Mammograms are always fraught with multiple layers of worry and anxiety because I have such a complicated history in that area. (For new readers: I was told in 2008 that there was a 90 to 95 percent chance I had cancer in one or both breasts. I’ve also had numerous surgical biopsies and procedures for all sorts of suspicious findings over the past 15 years.)

And so I will leave the house with a bit of trepidation but a lot of faith that God and I can handle whatever the day holds. I guess that’s a good reminder ever day!

I have oodles and oodles of pictures and stories to share from the past few days but for now (since the mammogram machine is callin’ my name) I’ll just leave you with a couple “teasers.” In my absence, you are more than welcome to try and guess what each picture is about. Never let it be said that Smithellaneous doesn’t provide its readers with all sorts of high quality, scintillating entertainment!

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How can I be turning forty-eight today? It was just yesterday I looked like this. (Don’t you just love that quirky, recalcitrant curl on the right side of my head?)

And this. (I’m the oldest of the three sisters)

And this. (Thankful I don’t look like this any more. Yikes! That was obviously my awkward stage.)

Just for the purpose of comparison, here’s Sarah around the same age. I think I was a (very) late bloomer.

A few years later, I looked like this. Our singing group could have been called, “Steve And The Ladies With Glasses.” (Those are my two sisters, by the way.)

At any rate, rather than drag you on a long, ponderous stroll down my own personal pictorial memory lane, I put together a collage of The Seasons of Becky. Try not to snicker too loudly as you view them!

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I have lots more to write about but for now, since I’ve got my parents-in-law and Nathan and Meagan in town, I’m going to sign off and start celebrating this fact: although I’m older than I was, I’m not as old as I’m going to be.

Um. Wait a minute. Is that something to celebrate? I’m not sure.

I guess I’ll go ahead and celebrate anyway, just to be on the safe side. (And yes, the day will include chocolate.)

A Local Pastor

Yesterday, I had lunch with a Local Pastor. A Local Pastor I know pretty well. A Local Pastor who knows me pretty well.

A Local Pastor who I know so well that he even walks my dog!

I even got help him out a little bit in the "Exercising of the Dog Walking Exercise In Order To Get Exercise." (I don't know why I am holding the leash out that far so don't even ask.)

After the dog had been walked and a few household tasks had been accomplished, the aforementioned Local Pastor (since it was his day off) asked if I wanted to go out to lunch with him.

But of course!

Here are a few Manteo sites we sighted along the way.

I love birdhouses because they’re all so different.

And I also love archways. Here is one that leads into a local bed and breakfast type place.

We passed this place before turning the corner onto the Main Drag of Manteo. (Is it legal to call a street as regal sounding as Queen Elizabeth Ave. a “Main Drag?” I sure hope so.)

The Manteo Main Drag.

This is looking out toward the harbor.

We ate at the Hungry Pelican where we split a sandwich and drank water and were able to have a lovely lunch for about $7. (Steve and I love our bargains.)

The view from our table.

The place where the Local Pastor and I would have sat for a while after lunch had it been just a few degrees warmer.

The end.

God’s Spotlight

When you’re a photographer, sometimes the oddest things tend to catch your eye.  The pictures below are a case in point. 

I was sitting in my usual chair one recent morning when I glanced over at Nathan’s bed.  The way the sun was falling on it resembled a spotlight shining straight from heaven. It’s a wonderful moment when God’s light shows up--in our rooms, in our hearts, in our lives.

 

 

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From The Comments Section

Q. Sue asked,  After the peach dessert baked for 95 minutes, was it still edible?

A.  Incredibly, it was!  It was a little chewy, a little crunchy, but by no means ruined.  It’s nice to have such a “forgiving” dessert.  And yes, Sarah would LOVE a very loud timer for her wedding! 

Q.  Anonymous asked, “What was the restaurant in PA you mentioned that served pretzel cones?”

A.  It was a family owned restaurant in Grove City, PA called Steeses.  Steve’s parents have known the family for many years and every time we went to Grove City (a couple times a year) we could never leave without going to that wonderful restaurant and getting a pretzel cone.

Q  Random asked if the “ice cream/crackers” thing would work with caramel or peanut butter ripple.

A.  Yes, indeedy!  The more ingredients floating around in there, the better  And please congratulate Paul for being on the cutting edge of dessert fashion and dessert eating!

Q.  (On another topic) Lynie said, “I must admit that one of my pet-peeves is hymns and other songs sung during church being projected on a screen! How does one know how the tune goes? When I am sitting in the congregation I hate that people are trying to sing a song that is so beautiful and it is a mish-mash of tunes and timing. I realize that hymnals are very expensive...is that the only reason more churches are going this direction? Am I the only one with this pet peeve? Probably.”  :o)

A.  Lynie, I also love singing out of a hymnal!  Whenever we visit a church that uses hymnals, Steve and I always get a big kick out of finding the alto/tenor line and singing our parts.  We don’t always get every note but we always enjoy the experience of seeing it all written out.

I don’t think that the decision to use hymnals instead of projected words is based that much on cost; in fact, a church’s projector, screen and computer would cost much more than many cases of hymnals would. I think instead, that the decision is based on a church’s worship and music style 

And since you got my curiosity up, I did a little research and found the following information from Ellison Research:

Five years ago, only 5 percent of Protestant churches used computer graphics presentations at least once a month. Today, projected computer graphics are used in more than one-third (36 percent) of all Protestant churches.

The number of churches using praise and worship choruses nearly doubled in the last five years (from 38 percent in 1999 to the current 74 percent).

I think that hymns have a place in church, beyond any doubt.  In fact, although our church does mostly worship choruses, we do at least one hymn in almost every service, just because we love the history, the heritage and the theology they bring to a service.

The bottom line, I guess, is that we all find a place to worship that speaks to us and changes us and challenges us.  Whether the music is from a book or from a wall, the message being heard is what really counts.

Thanks for the great question!

Snowy Goes to College. (And Graduates.)

I know you’ve all been wondering, “Did Snowy really do it? Did he really succeed? Did he really graduate from college?”

The answers are “Yes,” “Yes,” and “Yes” again. And if you’re wondering what degree I received, it was my Bachelor’s Degree.

Um. A Bachelor’s Degree as in, “I am still a bachelor. I am still single.”

I must say though, that college is a tough place to stay a single man. Gabby Girl could hardly even concentrate on her studies, she was so distracted by my rugged good looks and fluffy physical prowess.

Think I’m kidding? Just take a gander at these pictures!

"Aw, shucks.

This is getting a little embarrassing. Look at the “cow eyes” she’s making at me.

I hate to break a girl’s heart, but I have to say that I’m looking for someone with a bit more motivation, a bit more drive, a bit more focus. I mean, look at her, for crying out loud! Does this look like the kind of woman with a lot of “get up and go?” Does this look like the kind of gal who is going to cook me three meals a day and keep my kennel clean? I think not. Sorry, Gabby. (Although, once again, I do applaud you for so diligently adhering to the College Rule of two paws on the rug at all times. Good job!)

So even though nothing really worked out between Gabby and me (hence my Bachelor’s Degree) I was still thankful she was there because when it came time for us to show everyone what we had learned at college, Gabby’s owner volunteered her to go first. (Thanks, Sarah, for not volunteering me. I would say I didn’t want to go first because I believe in “ladies first” but actually it’s because I wanted to see someone else go through her paces first so I would know what to do. I’m a strong leader, like that.)

Watching carefully.

Closely observing the technique.

Please take note of my complete mastery of the “two paw rule,” even while I’m focusing my immense mental powers on what’s going on in front of me.

And now Maggie is coming to the end of her test which is to demonstrate the “stay” command. I’m pulling for you, Maggie. I’m on my feet for you! You can do it, girl! (Sorry. Got a little carried away there. But the two paws are still remaining. Man, I’m good!)

And now? Now the professor is telling me it’s MY turn. I am one nervous fella.This one demonstration has the potential to decide my entire destiny as a professional man.

The professor starts by laying a treat down on the floor to see if I have the self control to ignore it when walking by. I don’t. I’m a lot like my mom that way. (Um. Did I just say that out loud?)

Looks like I won’t be passing THAT part of the test. Treats just call my name. Loudly. And I wouldn’t want to be rude and ignore them, now would I?

As I listen to instructions as to what to do next, please note how nicely I am sitting and how carefully I am listening. (I impress even myself.)

Showing off my lying down skills. Hey, when you’re good, you’re good.

Waiting for Sarah tell me to “Come!”

And for once (or twice) in my life, I obeyed. (Hey, there were girls in the room that needed to be impressed.)

Did I do good? Huh, huh?

Here are all of us college kids listening to the Prof’s last lecture.

Listening is exhausting work.

And finally? Finally, college comes to an end. It’s time to blow the joint. It’s time to take our degrees and go home. (Speaking of degrees, my mom says I should have gotten an award called, “Most Likely to Improve.” I think that she thinks that’s funny so I’ll humor her.)

However, before we take our little ol’ graduated selves and boogie on out of there, we have to first engage in a little happy talk and a little mingling.

And I have to apologize to Gabby for breaking her heart.

And now it really is time for us all to head out the door for the last time. Time to enter the real world. Time to send out resumes and get jobs. Time to take naps and lick ourselves in inappropriate places at inappropriate times.

Wait. What’s that? My Mom is asking everyone to come back into the room for a class picture? How embarrassing is that? What is it always MY mom who has to create a scene?

Come on back, guys. Er, girls. Let’s move it here!

Get goin’, Big Girl! (I mean, “Lovely Female Canine.”)

Alright! Everyone get lined up! I will be your example! Follow me! Everyone follow me, I say! Oh. Wait. I think I’m pointing the wrong end at the camera. How humiliating. Let me get turned around here.

Much better. Thanks, Sis.

Um. Hello, girls? Look over there! Quick! It’s something shiny!

Ah. Distract the competition. Be the only one posing. Life is good.