Pennies Nickels and Dimes Oh My

Money, money everywhere; it seems as though I find money everywhere. There is never enough money for me to splurge, and buy a house, a car, or even a meal at a fancy restaurant and the worst thing is, it’s nearly always mine. The windfall always occurs on laundry day when I am likely to find some money on the bottom of the washer or in the dryer. The denomination is usually a dime. I do have a sneaking suspicion that it is the same dime I shove into my pocket while I’m transferring the wet clothes from the washer to the dryer. I forget the dime is in my pocket and when I wash clothing the next time, it gets another ride in the laundry express.

I occasionally find a dime in the yard where I’ve pulled my car keys from my pants pocket where the dime manages to escape as well. This is a rare occurrence. It’s noticed much more easily when there is no snow. The coin is spotted on the grass or gravel driveway and not hidden in the snow.

The other place I often find coins is in my bedroom at the bottom of my bed. The money makes its escape as I shift the contents from the pockets of one pair of pants to the other. The coin bounces out of sight beneath the bed or beneath the dresser, although a dime or penny manages to hide in plain sight in the nap of the carpet.

In past posts, you’ve heard my rant about the designs of the new coinage. A five year old could have drawn the sketch for the etching to make the absolutely horrid designs. Coins for the United States from our past are nothing short of artistic treasures. Their silver and gold images are exceptional. They are beautiful almost to the point the owner would enjoy looking at them when they made transactions.

I slowly gather coins and my pockets fill. I don’t want to wear a hole in my pants pocket, so I count them, stack them, roll them, and take them to the bank when I’ve saved a few dollars. I did have a spat with my bank. I called the main office because they didn’t want to accept my rolled coins. It only happens once every several months. That irritated me and I threatened to take my banking elsewhere if they refused me. After all, it is still legal tender.

I wonder what piece of money I will find next.

Ride Ride Ride Let It Ride

This past week it has been on the road every day. Sometimes it has been giving rides to others, while other days it was driving myself to appointments. Monday, I needed to collect my granddaughter Hannah from school and take her home. We had a nice time talking and watching her play.

Tuesday was a gathering of our 1967 graduating class from Connellsville Area Senior High School. It was just an informal monthly get together to eat and talk. Attendance was light for this meeting, but we still had fun and shared stories and laughs.

Wednesday is the usual workday at The Chestnut Ridge Historical Society. Four hours of sorting and storing records. I also used some of the time to collect possible articles and interesting local stories of local occurrences for our next newsletter. It is always interesting to find buried information of people, places, and happenings of local history. Sometimes the stories have to be condensed while wishing more tales could be included. Many times it is difficult to choose which articles on which to report. So many historical moments are stored in our files. Deciding which ones to use often comes down to personal preferences and what the staff believes will interest the most number of readers.

We also list upcoming speakers and bus trips. There is a speaker on the Paranormal and a trip to Lancaster to see the play “Esther” at the Sight and Sound Theater in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Wednesday evening is the usual prayer meeting service at church. Thursday was an early rise and shine. My best friend needed a ride to an upper G I endoscopy and needed to be at the hospital at 630AM. UGH, I was awake, ate a light breakfast, showered and was at her front door by 545AM. I bumped into my cousin and another nurse I used to work with. Once the test was through, I drove her to pick up some new medications, then we stopped for breakfast. I like Valley Dairy’s home fries when they’re fried extra crispy. Once home I hauled in some firewood to keep my house toasty with the coming cold snap. I was able to catch a quick, but necessary regenerating nap. I relaxed while I finished reading a book I’d taken to the hospital as I waited. I do like to read the character of J. P. Beaumont, a homicide detective from Seattle, Washington written by J. A. Jance. His character sort of reminds me of my character, Tommy Two Shoes Minerd.

Delicious

I was tired and quickly fell asleep, just a short nap I thought. When I awoke, I thought, “I want to dream a bit more.” I want to go back and finish my dream. I’d been collecting a wide variety of chocolate treats. I had filled a large brown paper shopping bag to the very brim with a large number of these luscious brown delights. Cellophane wrapped Ding Dongs, Ho Ho’s, peanut butter eggs, chocolate covered wafer bars, and chocolate covered marshmallows filled the bag to overflowing.

I can remember for some reason I’d harvested chocolate covered marshmallows and I have no idea why. I don’t like eating them at all, even in a dream. However, I did remember not to gather any chocolate covered cherries. My mother-in-law Retha Morrison mistakenly thought that I actually liked Cello chocolate covered cherries and I was sure that I would find them wrapped up and under the Christmas tree somewhere. Since her death, my kids have carried on the “tradition” of making those sweet morsels appear at some other time during the year.

I thought that I’d turn the tables this Christmas and I bought small boxes of the Cello chocolate covered cherries that are bathed in the sweet liquid pool. I was going to pass them out at the Christmas dinner at my sister Kathy Basinger’s house for our annual gathering. But the joke was on me. Because of conflicts of interest, we were unable to find a mutual date for the meal.

Even though I’ve been generous with other people, I still have a stockpile of nearly a dozen boxes of chocolate covered cherries swathed in bright red Christmas wrapping paper in my living room close to my front door…just in case I can think of someone else to whom I can pass another gift of chocolate covered cherries. Are you interested?

Friday evening I went to a Valentine’s dinner at a local church with my daughter Amanda Yoder and her family. Monday evening I had a meal with my son Andrew and his family. Tuesday I went to lunch with a few of my Connellsville High School friends. I ate leftover meatball stew for several days to feed myself around the invitations of friends and family. I could get used to this. Anyone want to invite me to lunch? I have chocolate covered cherries.

Tried and True Versus Modern View

For quite some time I’ve been wondering about those who avoid using the King James Version of the Bible. They use remarks like, “It’s too old fashioned,” or “It’s too hard to understand,” or “It’s not relevant today,” and yet many of these same people will swoon over Shakespeare’s sonnets and plays and drool over other works that were written in the same time period. That doesn’t make any sense at all? I know in many things I am old fashioned and stubborn. I also know that I’m not perfect and struggle with the truths I find written in the Bible.

I don’t care who you are, unless you’re reading the most elementary book or article, you will find a word that sometimes has a hazy meaning or you wonder why the author chose to use that specific word, especially if it seems a bit out of place. I will look up its meaning and research the word or the sidebar. Then the meaning becomes clear and makes the entire passage more relevant.

The same thing is true with the King James Version of the Bible. If you search specific meanings, the passage takes on a much richer significance; a deepness that is often missed by the casual reader.

First Corinthians 1:27-31 “But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are: That no flesh should glory in his presence. But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption: That, according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.”

Many of today’s religious leaders have chosen to use translations other than the King James Version. These other translations are often only summarizations the original text, sharing only the general idea of the passage. Too often these other translations have eliminated words, phrases, and sometimes entire verses or passages. I can’t understand how these leaders can justify doing this when the passage in the book of The Revelation, 22:18, 19 in the Bible strictly forbids adding or detracting words.

How can they explain using texts that eliminate parts of God’s Holy Word? What will they say when asked to give an account of this reason to God the Father.

Cheap Theatrics

I’m not sure of how many people watched the petulant face and action from Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi during the State of the Union Address on television. Her sour disposition may have been exacerbated by President Trump’s refusal to shake her hand. Was it a rebuff because of her tenacity to impeach him since his election into office? She was the spearhead for this movement, often prodded by those in her ranks who wanted the Commander-in-Chief removed at any cost.

Usually the GOP pulls its candidates from the “Good Old Boy” “Who’s Next” on the waiting list and the DNC has bright, new idea candidates. Not so this time. The DNC has a bevy of contenders, many new, some old, but all are rehashing the same move to the Left and Communism.

Nancy’s sanctimonious and icy visage peered over President Trump’s left shoulder like the angel of death. Her stare was pasted on almost as deeply as Tammy Faye Baker’s imitation of beauty. Her comment to the media after the State of the Union Address, his speech was all theatrics. Yet what was her response at the conclusion of his speech? She knew the cameras would be focused on him at that time and she tore her copy for all of America and foreign countries to see. I’m sure she meant to show her disdain and disrespect for Donald Trump, but we already knew her position after three long and torturous years of seeing her lemon soured face and hearing her unintelligent ramblings seeking Trump’s removal.

It was obvious that the theatrics to which she referred were the actions of reuniting of the combat veteran Sgt. 1st Class Williams with his family, the recognition of the Tuskeegee Airman, Charles McGee, and the presentation of the Presidential Medal of Freedom to Rush Limbaugh and other acts of recognition.

But I would much rather see this type of all American theatrics than the shady ones that are not being reported of by many media outlets. Did you know that before his speech, after the Iowa Caucus Pete Buttigieg went into the audience and handpicked six black women to stand behind him on stage when he spoke? I find that distressing and as disturbing as the entire political platform of the Left.

The Pelosi Schiff comedy routine suddenly struck a familiar note. Who else remembers the Punch and Judy puppet skits?

Who Would Have Thunk It

I marvel at the most recent news from the Iowa Caucus. The program that was to gather and relay the wishes of the voting Iowans failed the Democratic Party. It’s more than a full day later and their fail-safe system with a surefire back up process collapsed utterly. I wonder if they’ll ever be able to recapture the true number of votes cast by Iowans to select the Left leaning Socialist candidate that were actually selected? Or is the fix in again for the chosen nominee? Bernie Sanders “lost” to Hillary Rotten Clinton by the DNCs manipulation of ballots cast. Will this be another manipulation of the Democratic elite who know what is best for the voters and to ignore the desire of the American populace?

The ease of voting with an ap connected to the computer is erased when the process can be so readily be hacked and made insecure by manipulators hidden in the shadow of anonymity. An item added or deleted can misdirect the will of the voter without anyone being aware.

Closely on the heels of this fiasco is the fumble at the goal line with the Democrats attempt to impeach President Trump. Their coup started before Trump was elected and in the 3 years since, their failed attempts of destroying a duly elected president have littered the playing field with casualties.

A look back at the fiasco that occurred when gullible citizens of the United States were compelled to register for Obamacare shows more incompetencies. The entire system malfunctioned, overwhelmed by the sheer number of registrants. The American people were frustrated by the lack of foresight, the lack of preparedness, and wasted money by the government.

The firm Obama chose to create this nightmare program wasn’t American, but from a foreign entity. The system malfunctioned almost immediately. I’m not sure that it was ever designed to be able to handle the volume of customers or was it created to fail and to destroy the best health care delivery system in the world. I’m puzzled at the amount of personal information that was channeled into this Canadian data bank wasn’t handled more securely.

The government’s eye was on a forced, one-payer and universal health care. If the government could control healthcare, instill further travel restrictions with smart ID, register and eliminate weaponry, the Second Amendment would become moot. The result would be to control freedom of speech and religion granted in the First Amendment. It would cause America to become a third world country, entirely at the mercy of the hands of tyrants and despots. Their goal is a one world government with complete subservience of the world to their whim.

Dimples Pimples and Wrinkles

There are three physical phases that mark people’s advancement in age: dimples, pimples, and wrinkles. The first, dimples are really noticed as a child. Mother, aunts, and other matronly friends and relatives adore those wonderful crescent skin divots. “Aren’t they just the cutest things?” They may cry and descend on the unsuspecting child giving cheek pinches and forehead kisses. Well meaning they may be, but their uninvited intrusion on the child’s psyche and body may cause irreparable damage. These older gals sometimes don’t know their own strength and can bruise these poor children. And the kissing is little more than the spreading of nasty germs.

A bit later in each child’s life, hormones begin an assault on their body. Teenagers’ skin flushes with oils. The greasy film fills the pores and packs them with debris. Acne mars the skin and self confidence. Piles of these pimples pollute the face and body, marring the delicate egos of these insecure young adults. This plague has reached a point where the television is filled with hours of advertisements. They proclaim the advantages of scrubs, brushes, lotions, and ointments to prevent the damages from these blemishes and to restore the confidence of these young men and women.

The most recent homage paid to these blackheads and infectious pockets is the television series, “Dr. Pimple Popper.” As a nurse, I’ve seen my share of zits, furuncles, carbuncles, and pustules. The odor, the amount, and the toxic nature of the drainage will suffice me for a lifetime. I’m not sure what the fascination is with these shows and YouTube videos. Maybe people are just glad it’s not them.

Now to share my final point, wrinkles. I am talking about life-gained wrinkles, not just the ones a person can get on their hands from staying in the bathtub or pool too long, but the actual, age-earned wrinkles; wrinkles that have carved channels into the face, forehead, and hands. These chasms have been won by years of laughter, tears, and pain. Fleshly canyons that remain have been etched deeply into our hearts, souls, and skin. These emotional trenches map the past paths we’ve traveled,

Although the skin appears to have been roughened by these seemingly unending ripples, often the skin has become delicate and tissue paper thin. Has time worn away our protective layer? Is this skin more fragile that age hardened person still trapped inside? Volumes of history and vast experience are preserved in the pages of the person that is bound within.