Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Hater's Puppet

Haters want to start race wars. 

I'm not playing. 

A good example, I was "aggravated" by two different latino neighbors this week.  Do I hate latinos?  No.  I think the particular individuals were immature.  That's a big difference from hating all of them. 

You know what?  I totally understand why they risk everything to get here. 


This is what they can expect in Mexico, and how many make a living.  Garbage picking. 
 
If they're lucky, they might live here,
These are HOMES, with several per household:
NO utilities, running water, ameneties.  They throw their slop buckets full of human waste down the hill.  The slums reek of rotting sewage. 

I've been there, on mission trips.  Horrific. 

Contrast that home above to this "Section 8 Housing" project in America.  This is considered a "bad" one.  The caption on this photo refers to this as "one" of the playgrounds in the complex.  Notice the satellite TV dish? 


Where would you want your child to live? 

I get the completely human desire to give one's children a better life.  I don't hate them. 

Jesus told me to love everyone, so I will.  However, I understand as well as obeying God. 

We need to shut the border people say.  Keep those people out of our country! 

Well, guess what, buddy.  You're going to need a time machine.  The tide has turned.  If you want to do that go back about 70 years and you ought to fix it.  It's too late now. 

America has prospered from all the "illegal" activity.  I know for a fact virtually everyone in my family has hired an undocumented worker at one point or another. 

Regarding that, the Bible says treat your employees fairly, give them their wages, don't cheat them.  I try to hire citizens when possible. 

Latinos also have amazing compassion and empathy for Ron.  Ron is often embarrassed by their outpourings of kindness and occasional monetary offerings (which he always declines).   My next door neighbor is an amazing father to his 5 children.  He spends quality time with them even when exhausted after a hard day's work.  He values his wife, he works 12 hour days, often 6 days a week, to provide for his family. 

We will have conflict everytime you get different cultures mixing.  It's inevitable. 

I don't understand the all night-loud-music "birthday parties".  I'm sure they are horrified by my lax yard care.  But we're here now and we're learning to live together. 

When I read articles "Illegal child infects classroom" I know it's just the haters trying to create a race war, just like they did with the Trayvon shooting last year.  Black vs White didn't work to well, so it's Everyone vs. Latino right now. 

[rolleyes] 

I will not be a hater's puppet. 

I have my own mind. 

Mount Brushmore

I slept pretty well.  I heard someone playing music, but it was down pretty low and I slept so I don't mind. 

I waited until an appropriate moment and talked to Ron about the mountain of tree trimmings in front of our house.  We have a pile, about 4 feet high, 3 feet deep, and 20 feet long. 

Ron decided to call the landlady.  "Oh, I told him to trim the tree" she replied blithely "Heavy trash will take them tomorrow."  Ron suggested she come by and look, because this is even worse than last month's pile, which we were quoted $50 on removal. 

"I'm not paying" Ron told her grimly "For this one."

She mentioned, again (said this last year too) they are trying to "get rid of" the tenants.  They came in fall, 2010.  She's had them for 4 years.  She must not hate them that much. 

We emphasized, overall, he's not a bad guy.  This is our only complaint.  Had I been on the phone I would have played up the "wheelchair user needs to get on the van" angle, but Ron chose not to do that. 

Ron had mentioned someone had pressure-washed the house, which is 20 years old this year.  "Oh, we did that - hired someone, because we're about to paint."  The house is in clear need of a paint job. 

Ron was worried they are getting ready to rent it, or sell it.  I don't think so.  She told me once the house was their fallback plan if "things got really bad, financially". 

I know the black middle class has suffered horribly the last several years.  If anything they would be coming back. 

The house is bad-enough looking they probably got fix-it letters from the homeowner's association.  We got one because they didn't like our trim, several years ago.  We had to hire someone to paint. 

Anyway, lots of drama too early in the morning. 

I was proud of myself for waiting to talk to Ron about the problem.  One of my favorite secular self-help books: "Contact, the First 4 Minutes".  It basically stated the first 4 minutes set the tone for the whole encounter. 

If I go straight into complaints the minute Ron wakes up, he's going to wish he hadn't.  If I make loving chatter for 5-10 minutes, first, he won't feel "dumped on". 

It seems to work very well. 

I checked the mail.  I got a very nice letter I won't share.  Suffice to say it was fan mail.  I don't need to inflate my ego, so I won't.  I'm glad I make people feel better (hopefully you, too!). 

I also got a package from an internet friend, about 200 tracts.  Yay!  Tracts!  They are very nice full color tracts, which I'll definitely use packing my Bibles.  I can also give some to Ron if he wants, but he's pretty loyal to "Where will you Spend Eternity" Link

We went to Walmart.  Ron was upset his sure-thing "one hour at Walmart" had been hacked to half an hour, but our pickup was late so I got my hour anyway. 

I made a deposit, I need to buy some things online: vending machine labels, if I don't make my own; and maybe another deodorant crystal stone. 

I hunted up Spanish Bibles.  I am a stalker.  I found 5 and put them all in my cart.  If I buy a whole Spanish Bible online, it costs me $3-4 plus shipping.  If I get it at Walmart it's $1.88 and I don't even pay sales tax. 

I got some more yogurt, etc.  Cat treats.  Spent some time among the air fresheners.  I think my house has a wierd smell.  I ended up getting a Febreeze "Fall Favorite" even though it's July.  It's a Sandalwood/Chai, shouldn't affect Ron, and makes the house smell OK. 

I bought some cheese dogs and whole grain buns, a little ice cream for me, some for the drivers, and checked out.  I was pretty hungry so I bought a breakfast sandwich. 

Ron wanted a hash brown so I got one. 

We had a good ride home but the drivers are having some difficulty navigating Mount Brushmore in front of our house.  Ugh. 

So, I need to do my God Time (woke up with a pretty nasty headache and didn't feel up to it either this morning or just now), eat my rice pudding, take my meds. 

I'm not sure if our truck day is on for tomorrow.  I heard Ron talking to the man and it sounded like a cancellation.  I have yet to find my back brace, which has me a little uncomfortable. 

However, I've done lots of heavy lifting for years without a problem. 

Monday, July 21, 2014

Someone's at the door

I've had worse days, I remind myself. 

However, the last 36 hours have been pretty awful. 

Ron, tired of arriving "early" at church, decided to "fix the pickup", without telling me.  That resulted in a very late pickup and a tentative drop off half an hour after church start.  Ron was very upset and agitated. 

I had to deal with that on top of my own disappointment.  I don't think I ask for much, and didn't think it was that big a deal, arriving half an hour early.  I like to "visit". 

Ron made some phone calls and got very upset at the driver.  We ended up getting there 10 minutes before service.  He apologized but the driver wasn't happy.  And that, my friends, is why "church ladies" have such an awful reputation on the service. 

On the way home from church, the driver's computer broke.  The computer has a list of trips and information about each.  It also has GPS for each trip.  He has to "arrive" and "perform" trips as he arrives and loads the passengers.  He had to use the radio for all that, plus getting directions.  It took forever. 

Our ride home was estimated to take an hour.  It took two.  Some of the other clients were getting fussy because they had been riding half an hour.  I wanted to yell at them "I've been riding two!"  I didn't. 

The driver took the wrong turn and went hours out of the way.  I begged God to put His love in my heart because I really needed it.  I did what I could to be kind to him.  At this point, I had been riding for about 3 hours total. 

We had a turnaround trip at home, we were going to work.  I barely had time to change my shoes. 

We went to work and stocked what we could, then came home.  I rode a total of 4 hours. 

I noticed #7's oldest, across the street, was having a party.  He likes to have friends over to play pool in the garage - he's the adult son of the homeowners.  The current companion had a black sedan with the doors open and loud music.  The young man lives with his parents, teenage sister, and little sister (maybe 7 years old).   It was getting late and we needed to sleep, and that bass was traveling straight to my bedroom.  Ron called in a complaint to the police, and the homeowner's association. 

I figured maybe the parents were out of town and he was "off the chain".  He had made some noise on Saturday night, too. 

I just assume parents will tell their kid "Turn it off, we don't live in the ghetto". 

I heard the little girl running around and shrieking.  Apparently the parents were home, condoning this party, which had the appearance of a classical Mexican birthday party - loud music, lots of alcohol, loud until the early hours. 

If you asked my neighbors, none of them could tell you the month of my birthday, much less the date.  I'd certainly never keep them up all night, "celebrating".  I can't imagine anything more selfish but it's pretty prevalent in the culture.  I believe #2 is preparing for his annual blowout. 

He's currently piling some kind of brush clippings in front of my house in the street.  I guess I'm supposed to pay someone to haul them off, again, but I won't.  If I have to I will call the landlady and have her deal with him. 

He only cares about his landscaping when it's his birthday - I guess because his "friends" give him a hard time.  He'll spend weeks preparing for the party (he has this year).  The rest of the year you'll find 3-4 foot high grass everywhere. 

Back to #7.  I couldn't sleep for the music so I read Son of Hamas for a while.  Boy, he had an interesting life.  I read several chapters.  It seemed to be pretty quiet, so I went to bed.   I had to get up at 4.  It was already after 10. 

Something woke me up around 11:30.  I got up to wander up front and look out my peep hole. 

Suddenly I heard loud banging on my door and someone ringing the doorbell.  My immediate reflex: don't open the door. 

In some bad areas, thugs will target seniors and disabled by banging on their doors in the middle of the night, hoping the befuddled victim will open the door and allow entry for a home invasion burglary.  If the victim is lucky, that's all that occurs. 

I was not going to open that door.  Ron woke up and got in his wheelchair.  "Who's that?  I'm going to find out!" 

I told him no, if he wanted action please call 911.  He turned on his cell phone. 

We figured it was drunk kids from the party. 

I went up front, lights off, and looked out my spy hole in the blinds.  I saw a young man, the owner of the black (loud music) car, laughing hysterically in the driveway. 

Aha, I thought.  I was right.  That's a pretty nasty trick.  He got in the vehicle and drove away. 

The doorbell rang again, relentlessly, banging on the door, and I could hear a teenage girl screaming.  I told Ron to call 911. 

Let's take a moment.  You know Ron is disabled.  You have seen him, just as we've seen you.  You see he's in a wheelchair.  What in God's name do you think a blind man in a wheelchair can do for you? 

I made some jokes today about Ron using his "ninja powers" as people snorted. 

If you wonder what God would have me do, everything in my soul was saying "Leave it alone" and "No". 

I looked out the front window again.  The girl was on her cell phone, talking agitatedly.  Later, I saw her lying on the ground and rolling around in the driveway, which I thought very odd behavior. 

#6 occasionally runs errands at night - maybe to the pharmacy.  They leave the house for about 10 minutes and come right back.  As they came back, the girl jumped in front of their car screaming. 

It sounded like "He shot my Dad".  Turns out she was saying "He has a bat". 

Remember, the guy left a good 5 minutes earlier. 

The police came.  The party broke up eventually.  After about an hour and a half, it seemed quiet enough to go to sleep. 

Ron wanted to know what had happened.  He called the police.  Apparently, the driver of the black car, very drunk - got a baseball bat and was menacing people at the party.  After terrorizing them, he went out in the driveway, laughing hysterically, as I saw.  Then he left. 

Presumably #7's family know his identity and intend to press charges. 

I was pretty furious.  You buy a house in a decent neighborhood and then you want to bring in your willfully ignorant, criminal, thug friends.  Not only that you want to disturb hardworking people who are just trying to live their lives. 

Hopefully #7 has learned some lessons about the company the oldest is keeping.  Hopefully they have learned lessons about serving alcohol at parties. 

I say it constantly: I've never seen a person bettered by the use of alcohol.  It just brings out their worst.

I minister to ignorant people.  I don't have a problem with that.  I do have a problem with clearly affluent, educated adults, choosing to thug-identify and bring would-be criminals into my life.  And Ron's. 

If you want thugs, Houston offers plenty of neighborhoods.  But no, you only want to be a bad boy at your convenience. 

I barely got 3 hours sleep, and had to go to work. 

I was dying to go bang on their door at 4 AM, and wake them up.  I did my God Time instead. 

"God" I told Him.  "I don't have it today.  I don't have any love in my heart.  I am bitter and resentful.  I am angry.  I am frustrated I have to deal with losers.  I have to go to work.  I don't have it today.  I know You say in the Bible You won't hear me if I have bitterness and anger - but please hear me anyway and take it away." 

I felt better enough after that to do most of the prayer and Bible study portion of my program. 

For instance, I am seriously excited.  Voice of the Martyrs offers an opportunity to become a prayer partner for a "front lines worker" in high-persecution areas.  I signed up. 

I got a guy in Columbia.  Now, VOM was very clear: they don't want me to "out" him.  I won't.  He's a nice Latino man with a family.  I will be praying for all of them.  I put him in the front of my God Time notebook along with some other missionaries. 

I'd already taken my shower.  Thank God I didn't need to shave my legs. 

I got dressed and went to work. 

The other vendor wanted a meeting - yike. 

No, it was OK.  He wanted to talk abour raising prices.  Our guy from the state was demanding it, but the other guy had been balking.  "Talk to him direct" I told our boss "He won't receive it from us". 

So, prices are going up a nickel, pretty much across the board.  It's the first time in several years.  I'll have to look it up but I think it was 2008-9. 

I'm sure the population will scream. 

I helped Ron with his end of things, stocked what I had in snacks, did my inventory, and left to go to the warehouse.  Our guy-with-a-truck has been meeting us at the warehouse, and giving us a ride back to work.  Ron assumed that would happen, without asking "Joe". 

He called Joe, after the deadline to make trips, and found out, to his horror, Joe was taking overtime today and wouldn't be able to help.  We didn't have a ride to work. 

Paratransit was able to do it but it meant waiting at the warehouse for over 2 hours.  Ron doesn't like the crowds so we waited outside. 

I finished Son of Hamas.  Good book. 

I listened to my music.  I sat in my folding chair and watched over a dozen people, literally look down on us as they entered the store. 

That made me feel special. 

I was so exhausted - and fatigue is really bad for me.  All my Bad Thoughts get amplified.  The driver to take us to work wasn't very nice and broke my folding chair.  I was just so weary. 

We got to work.  I had to tag and stock about 100 pastries. I did that.  I stocked my candy and helped Ron with the food machine (adding bottled drinks).  I didn't get a chance to do the cup-a-noodles but they'll live. 

I took the gummy candy out of (snack machines) 1 &2, and put them in #3.  They weren't vending properly and I don't want anyone ripped off.  I am passionate about having happy customers.  #3 is good for vending wierd snack items. 

Everyone was complaining about the coffee machine. 

"I just don't have it" I told Ron. 

When everyone left, I opened the machine and did an inspection.  It had plenty of coffee beans, and ground coffee.  "Weak" it may be, but it's not my fault. 

I think people get accustomed to the rocket fuel served at gas stations, and expect it from our machine.  It can't do that.  Anyway, I'm not going to accept the stress for that right now. 

When we go back to work, we can do some test-vends and see for ourselves. 

Finally, time to go.  I was so happy to see the vehicle already pulling into the driveway.  We boarded and came home. 

I got an hour nap but woke up hallucinating, I think.  [sigh]  Now I need to figure out dinner and take my meds. 

I wryly noted #7 has apparently fled the scene.  Normally they have at least one car in front of the house.  Not today.  I think they are hiding. 

I believe #6 is going to go to talk to them.  The girl undoubtably scared the crap out of his children, screaming and banging on his door.  Then she jumps in front of his car, screaming hysterically about a guy who fled 10 minutes before. 

#6 and #7 are both Mexican, so he'll have more impact than Ron or I, for instance.  I would love to go over there with Ron in the wheelchair and yell at them about bothering cripples. 

However, God wants me to pray instead, so I will. 

I just wish my life had less drama.  I do everything I can to minimize drama in my life.  I got rid of quarrelsome internet folk, don't interact with the neighbors, follow the Bible, take my meds, avoid bad drugs and alcohol. 

I just want, to paraphrase the Bible: work hard with my own hands, mind my own business. 

I just wish other people's drama could stay off my property. 

Friday, July 18, 2014

I never abused anything

I think I'd have an easier time writing this post about my sex life. 

I have always, always, sought my Dad's approval, and to a lesser extent, that of my adoptive Mom/Stepmother.  If you know about my upbringing you may find that pathetic, or infuriating. 

I do. 

Dad's always had the "conventional" view of success: good grades, good college, good job, good spouse, good family. 

I'm a high-school dropout, a couple years of part time community college, no degree or certificate.  I'm self employed and making a very modest income.  I can't even drive.  I'm dependent on public transit.  I have post-traumatic stress, brain damage, and a couple different flavors of "crazy". 

In some ways, I did make the grade.  I bought a nice little house without asking him for money.  We've kept it for over 10 years during a horrific recession.  We have our own business.  I do evangelism.  I take my medication as directed, "very stable" per my doctor, and live a sober lifestyle.  In fact, I never abused anything other than caffeine.  I'm a "good wife" and caregiver to my very disabled husband. 

The above are "pleasing" to the "parental units".  As each event occured, they let me know they were proud of me. 

But, like a lot of kids, I want them to be thrilled with me, all of the time. 

I think it bothers them, on a basic level, that I never had a child.  Dad doesn't have any blood related grandkids.  He has 4 "steps". 

Anyone knows I could not mother.  Any child I had would have ended up in foster care, assuming they lived that long (I am a carrier for Bubble Boy syndrome and some nasty variants).   On a logical level they know I made the right decision, marrying a "fixed" man, but... 

Dad recently told me "I always wanted you to be an engineer" (had things been different I would have gone into the medical profession) "But an evangelist is a much higher calling." 

So, I thought I'd tell him all about the evangelism.  He was polite today but he said something that really cut me. 

"I know it's important for you to get positive feedback on these things". 

OUCH.

After I hung up, I took it to God.  I know I want their approval, and feel like I never really got it. 

"You were my daughter long before you were his" God told me.  "I created you, this way, for this purpose." 

Wow.  Good point. 

So, now, do I shut up about my work altogether?   I think I'll just wait for them to ask. 

Thursday, July 17, 2014

The person I needed

A cab driver was badly hurt this week, and lost one or both of his legs. 

I empathized, and sent a care package with some comforting items to him, care of the cab company. 

I don't think it's a big deal.  I always vowed I would be the person I needed when my life went to hell, the shoulder to cry on, the comforting hug, etc. 

When I know someone's hurting, I'll do what I can to help.  Especially if the Holy Spirit is working. 

Now, I knew it might be a little baffling to the cab company, so I put my phone number on the return address label, in case they had a question.  However, I had gotten someone to agree to pass it along. 

I wasn't surprised when my phone rang this evening.  I was surprised to hear the Operations Manager of the company on the line. 

More to to find out that he and "the entire staff down here" were "very touched to get your package today".  He mentioned he thought he found me on Facebook.  I mentioned the Free Bibles sign and he said "I figured that was you." 

He said a lot of nice things, which I won't repeat, because I'm just doing my job.  Sharing God's comfort in a dark and ugly world. 

"You're the only person I know who would do this" he said "Besides my sister". 

I paraphrased this:
2 Corinthians 1:3-5
New King James Version (NKJV)

Comfort in Suffering

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds through Christ.

After thanking me again, we hung up. 

I really don't think I did anything remarkable.  But God is using it for amazing good already.  Well, then, He gets the credit. 

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

With a migraine

I woke up with a migraine at 3 AM.  I crawled out of bed, disentangling from Torbie cat, and took two Excedrin, washed down with half a bottle of Diet Mountain Dew. 

I've battled it all day. 

I am happy, every day I have done my God Time, worked, and taken my meds; in spite of these awful headaches. 

It's Day 4. 

We went to work, I stocked a little.  I'm out of (sour gummy) worms.  I need more chips, too.  We took the money out of the machines and I counted it, then we went to the bank.

While at work, I called Yellow cab twice, until I got ahold of someone in management.  I got permission to mail the box, which they will forward to the injured driver.  Good.  He even double checked the address. 

After the bank, we went to the mall, and I told Ron "There isn't a thing here, I'd buy."  No modest clothing (and I'm not a prude), I'm not into jewelry, and I get my vitamins from Swanson.  I did get a hamburger from the food court. 

We came home and I made up my care package:
2 devotionals I felt led to donate
The Bible I marked up after Ron's accident, lots of encouraging passages - also strongly led to donate.  I never use it anyway. 
Snacks.
A letter explaining why I did this
Etc. 

I taped up the box, loaded it, and taped it shut after double-checking.  I made sure I had the address, etc., and put it in a tote bag. 

We went to Taco Bell and I walked over to the Post Office.  I had treats for the Postal Workers.  I like feeding Postal Workers, even if they aren't "mine".  [grin] 

"Mine" will be processing it, probably right now, anyway. 

It's off in the mail, I went to the taco truck and got some takeout. 

The food is delicious but it's a very long wait.  We had the time, so I waited.  Ron inhaled his tacos.  I saved my food for later. 

Strong flavors and scents don't work very well with a migraine.  We had to wait about an hour for a pickup. 

I figure lots of people go on "mission trips" with hours of travel time.  This was my mission trip. 

We had a good ride home.  The headache's intermittent.  I will be eating some cheesecake soon and taking my meds. 

God knows I have to do that. 

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Bulletproof vest

I just deleted a spam.  A woman claimed a "prophet" brought back her husband after he left. 

Let me get this straight.  Assuming the guy had the power to bring someone back, why would you want him?  He's a cheat who doesn't want to live with you. 

Good riddance, I'd say.  I'd put my faith in the Lord, who's completely reliable. 

I woke up at 3 AM with *another* migraine.  I finally tracked the source; Sam's Club blueberry muffins. 

Thanks a lot. 

We went to Walmart at 5 AM.  It was lovely.  I would have liked a little more time but we had work today. 

I bought some treats, if I ever get the go-ahead to mail that goody box.  I would have loved to add some chocolate, but not in this heat! 

I haven't heard back from the cab company.  I may do some independent digging. 

I felt pretty awful with the migraine, but I got everything on the list except Bibles.  They only had one Spanish Bible. I took it. 

I got the treats, some stuff for Ron, and a few things for me: drink mix, Powerade zero for the next Bible Handout, etc.  I tried to avoid processed foods and snack items, which kept my total number of items down. 

I can't find the receipt but I remember checking it. 

We went outside to wait on our ride.  When we'd arrived, a very manic guy tried to jump into "the cab".  I had to tell him "This is only for cripples" before he left the driver alone. 

The security guard was sitting on a bench, chatting him up.  [rolleyes]

He was gone, so we waited.  The driver pulled up, making comments about me "Leaving your bulletproof vest in Southwest Houston on Sunday"

Huh?  I only had my handout vest, which was sitting in my crate, in the living room.  He continued "Why didn't you have a bulletproof vest on Sunday, handing out those Bibles?" 

I wanted a bad neighborhood, I told him. 

No cult ever goes to the bad neighborhood, but all souls are equally valuable to God. 

God's called me to reach the poor. 

I'm very passionate.  The driver has had some bad experiences with "religion" and I could tell he was doing some hard thinking. 

Glad I could help. 

We got home and unloaded.  It wasn't much fun putting up the bottled water and Powerade, but I got it. 

I made sure to put the (ice cream) Drumsticks in the freezer.  I like to hand them out to drivers.  The treats have ice cream, covered with chocolate and peanuts, with a chocolate lined "cake" cone. 

Chocolate and peanuts are huge migraine triggers.  You can bet I won't be eating them. 

The drivers love them.  I already gave one away. 

We had a pretty quick turnaround and then we went to Sam's.  I brought my flash drive, and ordered some photos after I did my work shopping (a whole lot of pastry). 

I didn't mind working - I'd rather work with a headache than have it on my day off.  I've been very careful today so I shouldn't get another headache tomorrow. 

I bought chocolate donuts, (the sugar donuts had a terrible code and stayed at the store), 2 packages of chocolate cupcakes (the kind with the icing and the squiggle down the middle), and 3 trays of assorted pastry (honeybun, iced honeybun, cheese danish, and cinnamon roll). 

I also bought a little candy, stuff that won't melt. 

I bought 2 packages of honeybuns with my own money.  They are the "cheap" brand, but good and large.  I ate one and stocked the other 8 into the vending machines at work.  Like I said, I'm a lot more prone to spend my own money on inventory than I am to take something out of stock. 

I bought another tray for the "gals" at my local post office, when I mail the care package.  I like to bring them a treat.  They love them. 

As I put it in the back of Ron's wheelchair, he began ranting about "taking his inventory" and "giving away the store". 

Hey, I told him, I bought these with my money.  Not only that, I just stocked 8 of my honeybuns into your vending machine.  That shut him up right quick. 

As we waited, I saw the taco truck.  Our ride was coming late, so I went over and got lunch.  It was good, a grilled cheese with bacon.  Yum.  Bacon.  Good thick cut bacon. 

Ron ate a couple of tacos, making yum yum noises.  I have strongly considered adding green tea to the product lineup, especially since I see customers bringing it in. 

I bought Ron a bottle and he loved it.   We'll be adding it. 

I sat in my folding chair and Ron sat in his wheelchair, waiting on our ride, eating and drinking.  Cars drove by going to the credit union. 

We got a lot of paranoid, hostile, looks.  Ugly judgemental sneers, etc.  It was worse than a Bible Handout and that's saying a lot! 

Something in the Bible about despising the poor. 

I saw a familiar vehicle pulling into the driveway, and waved.  It was the Boss Man. 

He got out and we talked for a while.  He wants us to raise prices.  We told him he needs to tell the other guy; if it comes from us he'll balk.  We chatted for a while as the Metrolift (paratransit van) pulled up. 

The driver got out and eavesdropped, avidly listening to every detail as we discussed a few items.  We got Ron loaded. 

The Boss Man headed out to inspect the vending machines.  I was so glad I'd stocked. 

We had a nice straight trip home. 

The driver got a Drumstick.  I got a nap. 


Monday, July 14, 2014

Cologne man

I battled the migraine, and insomnia, all night long, well knowing I had to get up at 2 AM. 

Torbie came to bed around 10 and I fell asleep almost instantly.  I've written about this before: for me, a cat in the bed ensures swift, excellent sleep. 



I hated to get up, but the migraine was lurking.  I took a shower and did my God Time, my faithful Torbie at my side. 

She jumps up on the couch when I sit down.  I give her the glucosamine treats (2).  I do my prayer and Bible study.  I probably give her a few standard treats along the way, along with plenty of petting.  She lays against my leg, purring. 

It's wonderful. 

If she's not there, for whatever reason, I proceed without her. 

I finished and took a hard look at my antidepressants.  I knew if I took them, they'd escalate my migraine and probably kick me into vomiting into a bucket. 

The customers do not want to see me vomiting into a bucket, and I'd rather avoid it anyway. 

We went to work.  It was a good ride, the coveted "straight trip".  When we got to work, I hurried to arrange my corner of the stockroom and remove my carts. 

"What's the rush?" Ron asked. 

"I want to get out of here before cologne man arrives." I replied.  "It's going to kill my headache." 

I am very sensitive to scents when I have, or am battling, a migraine, and strong perfume or cologne can actually flip me into extreme pain and vomiting.  One reason I very seldom wear scents. 

Besides, not long ago, I passed a driver as I sat down.  She was securing Ron's wheelchair.  "I like your perfume!" she told me. 

"It's my shampoo" I replied, and told her what I use. 

Sure enough, he arrived in full fragrance.  I could literally smell him enter the room.  I avoided him as much as possible.  He may think it's due to the drama last week. 

The old don't-you-dare-tip-my-guy-for-helping-you. 

So. 

They arrived and the other vendor was unusually jolly.  If Ron and I are right, maybe he's taking his medication again.  Or maybe God worked on him. 

At any rate, I stocked (I am completely out of pastry), got sandwiches, and waited on Dr Pepper.  Ron had ordered about 50 cases.  Ron had arranged an earlier pickup.  I tell him, I don't mind waiting a little , but he doesn't listen. 

He has to figure it out himself.  The guy arrived just in the nick of time (thanks God) and I set him up with things I know he likes.  I got him a meatball sub, a Dr Pepper, some chips, and a scratch-and-dent bag of Peanut M&M's.  "I got a full course feast!" he said as he grabbed the box.  "Thanks!" 

I always, ALWAYS, always want us to be the fun place where they get spoiled rotten: deliverymen, repairmen, you name it.  Food, drink, and sincere appreciation for their hard work helping us make a living.  Ron is in full agreement. 

One reason I like working for him; he understands it's important to support our service providers. If they want to, they can make our lives a living hell.  I want to thank them for going over and above to get us quality product in a timely fashion. 

And it's a thankless job.  I want to show some appreciation.

My migraine crawled off right before Dr Pepper, which is good because I had to put it away!  Heavy lifting really sucks with a migraine. 

Finally done.  Everything looked great (except for pastry). 

We came home, I took a nap for a couple hours.  The headache was taunting me again.  Oversleeping can cause and aggravate migraines. 

Ugh. 

At least I got some good reading out of the headache. 

Yesterday, at church, I placed my Handout crate (my supplies in a folding crate, rolled up sign, etc.) next to a table with a display of books.  One of them had the title "Harvest". 

I picked it up and read the back.  Missionary biographies, work being done for Jesus.  It looked very interesting. 

After church I was talking to one of the elders and asked if I could borrow the book.   He chuckled, because the book's on evangelism and I'd just finished telling him about the Handout.  "You can keep it, Heather." 

I'm bringing it back, I don't need to keep it, but it is interesting reading. 

A couple of interesting points:
Never asked for money or supplies.  Ever. 
Like George Muller, trusted God to supply if the plan was in His will. 

It definitely validates my decision: I don't ask for money.  God works on people and they send me money or Bibles.  Money is spent on Bibles.  Bibles are handed out.  People prayed for and hopefully saved. 

When I got up from my nap, I found a strange bag in the mailbox.  I don't know if you get a lot of packages, but Swanson Vitamins, and other places, now ship in heavy duty plastic bags.  I guess they're easier to freight than boxes. 

I looked at the return address.  "Jacksonville Warehouse".  Hm.  Ominous. 

I opened it anyway.  It was a pink reflective vest. 

I'd mentioned it on Facebook, and put up a link.  One of my friends made a comment "done".  Huh? 

I forgot she had my address. 

It's done alright.  [laugh]  I sent her a gracious thank you note. 

It's really cute and will be a lot of fun during a Handout.  It's attentiongetting without being quite so manic as the orange. 

Ron and I plan to do a Handout, in the future, with a guy from church.  He can wear the orange vest and I can wear the pink one.  Ron refuses to wear any safety apparel. 

Tomorrow, we run to Walmart, come home, and then work.  I prefer to "do" Walmart, 1. early morning, and 2. on a work day so I don't feel it "ate" my day off. 

Ron's very accomodating.