Some Things Friday...Just 'Some Things'

I haven't posted anything in over a week. Imagine that. You'd think with all the stuff we've been doing, I'd have tons to write about. Well, I do, but I haven't.

My creative well has dried up and smells like mold, just like the drain in my shower. I'm waiting for a tub of enzyme something-or-other I ordered that is guaranteed to cure that....the shower drain, not my creative well. It has do with some sort of gunk (that's a technical term) that accumulates in old drains and causes mold to grow and this enzyme something-or-other "eats" the stuff that holds the gunk onto the sides of the pipes, thereby allowing the gunk to be released from the sides of the pipes and be flushed away down the drain. But the enzyme something-or-others are slow eaters, so it takes up to two weeks of daily treatments to see results. By that time, I'm guessing, I'll need another tub. Between you and me, I think I may have fallen prey, once again, to hyped up advertising....ya think?

My sister-in-law Carol was here from California for a few days. Carol stayed with Christina (my other sister-in-law and Carol's sister) and Bill (Christina's husband) at their house up at the lake, a beautiful spot surrounded by trees. We went up Sunday and took Tom's parents. Everyone came to our house ... not by a lake and not surrounded by trees, although we do have a Kroger parking lot behind our back fence ... for dinner on Monday.

Sunday Tom and I learned how to fill our 'Love Tanks.' Did you know there were five 'love languages'?

There's this book...The 5 Love Languages, The Secret to Love That Lasts. Christina...well, really Christina AND Bill...received a copy of this book from her mother-in-law. I'm not sure what that means, but if a married woman gets a book about 'marriage' from her mother-in-law, you can probably bet mom-in-law thinks YOU are NOT doing it right. Just sayin'.

So back to the book. According to Dr. Gary Chapman, the man who wrote the book, those 5 languages are: quality time, words of affirmation, gifts, acts of service, or physical touch. The premise of the book is that unhappiness in marriage occurs because we speak different love languages. Easy, peasy.

So I suppose this would mean that Tiger Woods and Jesse James aren't actually emotionally and hormonally 13-years-olds who have zero capacity for self-control and commitment. Nope. It's merely that 'physical touch' is their 'Love Language'. Or maybe it's 'acts of service' hehe. Or maybe it's 'words of affirmation', as in Oh, baby, you are sooo...[insert expression of appendage admiration]. Who knew!

Now the 5 on the cover of the book is really big in relation to the other print. I think Dr. Chapman wants to make it very clear, and certainly wants us to understand, that he has identified ONLY 5 love languages. There are no others. Oh, yeah, except the '5 Love Languages of Children, the 5 Love Languages of Teenagers, and the 5 Love Languages of Singles. What can I say? Apparently, we change love languages throughout our lives. It's so confusing! Is it any wonder no one understands me???

Chapman also wrote a few other books. The 5 Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate (My thought: Only one way. Fall in love with me, marry me and keep your you-know-what in your pants when it comes to other woman). The 5 Languages of Apology (Again, only one. Say you're sorry and mean it, tell me it will never happen again and then never let it happen again).

In another book, Chapman narrows things down even further when he published The Four Seasons of Marriage. I can narrow it down even further than that. There are two: Summer and Winter. Summer is..well..the hot stage. You cannot believe you are sleeping with this naked person every single night...hotchacha. Winter is merely waking up to reality. You know, working, dishes, laundry, housework, bills, cooking, cleaning, kids, dirty diapers, vomit, whining (kids and husband), smelly pits and feet, no makeup, he gets a paunch, you get a fat ass and sometimes you just laugh.

Anyway, so back to the 5 Love Languages. Man, imagine all the years wasted on research and understanding the human psyche and the development of our ability to effectively and appropriately communicate clearly our feelings, needs, desires, etc., and then this doctor boils down our interactions with each other to those 5 forms of communication.

I thought, wow, this Chapman guy must be really, really smart, huh? So I Googled him. Oh...My...God. Dr. Chapman isn't a researcher. He isn't even a physician or a psychiatrist. And he's not a psychologist. He's a pastor. Now, nothing against pastors. I love mine. But sometimes some pastors have a tendency to over simplify things just an itsy bitsy teeny weeny bit and I'm thinkin' this guy might be one of those pastors. Who needs psychiatry, psychology and science, huh?

So that was Sunday.

Monday afternoon, everyone came to our house for dinner. You might remember that I blogged about my mother-in-law's need for a menu when they come to dinner at our house. I didn't print a menu this time and it didn't go unnoticed by my MIL. It wasn't a big deal. Just one simple statement that I let go in one ear and out the other (but obviously taking a side trip through my fingers, onto the keys of my computer and landing in this post), "Oh...[pause and sigh for impact]...no menu." I offered no response. None at all. I didn't even apologize (I'm getting so callous).

I made Beef Marsala Stew. Tom made his wonderful, creamy mashed potatoes. I served it with steamed asparagus and a grape tomato-cucumber-onion salad. Dessert was a Mixed Berry Shortcake from a recipe I got from Debbie @ The Friday Friends. I will never use pound cake again. I love that recipe.

We had a nice visit, except for my niece's boyfriend nearly breaking a bone or drowning in the pond because he fell through the Lowes cheap-ass fiber-something faux cement garden bench that merely crumbled under his weight when he sat on it. Luckily he was okay, although I thought I heard whispers concerning our insurance coverage.

Carol flew back to California Tuesday morning.

This week I started back in on painting, and in some cases repainting, the kitchen. I nearly have the bottom cabinets done. Next week, I will finish that and start on the uppers. Then the trim. After that, maybe finish the den. Tom installed new shelves and those need to be painted and the walls need to be repainted from a blueish gray to a true gray, which I started probably a year ago and never finished. I know. It's about time. But I told you I was burned out on renovating. It gives me a stomach ache just writing about it.

So, what else happened this week?

Well, we have the oil spill in the Gulf, just days after Obama said he wanted to open Gulf drilling again. Sure, go ahead Big O. We need to oil our beaches, pollute our waters and kill millions of mammals, fish and who knows what else in the process. That's been a goal of mine, too, since I first laid eyes on the ocean.

Rep. Duncan Hunter (R-CA) wants to deport American citizens. Hunter supports deporting all American born children of illegal immigrants because their American citizenship isn't in their "souls." He actually said that. I'm wondering if Hunter has a soul or even a conscience for that matter.

Speaking of immigrants. You did, of course, hear about the new law in Arizona which now gives police officers the authority to detain people based on “reasonable suspicion” they may be in the country illegally. Hmmmm. What exactly does an illegal immigrant look like? And given that there are probably tens of thousands of LEGAL immigrants [read:Mexicans] in Arizona, just how does one establish a "reasonable suspicion" that one is illegal? Is everyone going to have to carry their "papers" wherever they go? And what "papers" are people supposed to carry? Can't use Social Security cards for identification. How about a drivers license? Will that work? Birth certificates maybe? Let me see your papers, Comrade...

Then there is Lindsay Lohan. Posing for a photo shoot, spread eagle and holding a gun to her mouth. Oh my God! Could somebody who cares more about this tragically disturbed young woman than just getting control of her money, please step in and be a real Mommy for her. She sure could use someone to love and cherish her.

And, finally, a drama close to my family. There is a man (if you can call him that) who is running for Congress in Nevada, Steven P. Nohrden. He wants to be elected to represent the citizens in District 3 in Las Vegas. Nohrden just happens to be my niece's ex-husband and the father of her daughter, Caitlin. However, you wouldn't know that by reading Nohrden's website. He claims only four daughters, ignoring Caitlin's existence altogether. Well, I can certainly understand why Nohrden would want to pretend she doesn't exist since he has failed to pay and is in arrears for quite a large sum of money in child support for her. Let's be fair, though. Just earlier this week he made his March and April 2010, child support payments and now there's only $21,000 and change to go. Yes, you read that right. Over a period of several years (Caitlin is now 14-years-old), Nohrden has accumulated over twenty one THOUSAND dollars in back child support. But, by God, he sent two payments this week to the Department of Child Support Enforcement. After all, he has to look like an responsible father and decent human being since he's running for public office. In response to his candidacy for Congress, my niece has created a Facebook page, Say "Yes!" to Caitlin, where you and I can join (I already did and I haven't shut my mouth since) to show your support and say "No!" to Steven Nohrden for Congress and help us tell the nation that congressional candidates and their campaigns should not come before a any man's financial and moral responsibilities to his child.

So that's it for this week. It's Toad Suck Daze weekend here in Conway, Arkansas, a craft and fried food fair in the downtown streets. Rain, thunderstorms and flash flooding are predicted for the entire weekend, as is usually the case for the first weekend in May. But, by God, you know Arkansans. When they say it's gonna be this weekend, by God, it will be this damn weekend, come hell or high water. Ummm, hellooo, we are going to get high water...