I got a great idea from World Missionary Press. They had a program where you could get a change jar from them, fill it up, cash it in, and send them the cash. I thought that was a great idea. I have a big change jar, an old protien powder jar. I put all my change into it at the end of every day, unless I am going to Foodtown - then I save a few quarters and dimes for the soda machine.
I got a small Pringles can (and I wonder why I gained back some weight!) and put half my change into it every night. The rest went into the other jar. A few times I tried to give Ron change from a transaction, a dollar or two, and he'd tell me to keep it. I would, and put the single into the jar.
I filled up the Pringles can and counted it last night. $37.65. Not bad! We occasionally do change deposits at our bank, and have giant ziplock style bags. We can put in either mixed or single change (all dimes). I plan to donate half each to World Missionary Press, and Grace and Truth. That's a LOT of scripture booklets and tracts, and no financial pain for me! [The "big" change jar is my new washer money - I figure by the time I need a new washing machine, and I only need a basic model, I will have the money accumulated.]
I feel strongly that Jesus does not want us to brag about what we're doing for Him, especially as regards money. However, it's such an easy, and fun, idea I had to share it. I'm glad He can use me. I make my little deposit tomorrow.
Last night was "interesting". The kid next door has a big, nice, new pickup truck. We'll call him Blue. Blue has some issues with authority figures. From what I can ascertain, he MUST share a bedroom with 2 little brothers, at least 10 years younger than him. His sister and her baby have another room, and the parents have the last room. Yike! That would make ANYONE cranky, especially since the baby is still a toddler and you have diaper and crying all night issues.
The first time I met Blue, he was climbing over Ron's hand-built gate. Not a good start! No real problems for years. Then, last week, he started parking in front of our house. We put a note on the driver's side door, asking him nicely to park somewhere else. Ron has nerve disease, very painful to walk, need the space for OUR ride. He obliged.
His Dad is a very gregarious type. I tend to be more introverted around neighbors, worried about coming off wrong [ha!]. Anyway, I was going to check the mail a few days ago and Blue and Dad are outside. Dad says "Hey, howya doing?" I said great, and made a point of looking at Blue and thanking him.
Years ago, when we first moved in, the homeowners psychotic wife came banging on the door, shouting about the cat. He was looking at her. I had to make him stop; if I didn't she would kill him. She got angry if he looked at her from inside the house, so there was no way I could please her. I ended up getting pretty heated (she was threatening to kill my baby!) and telling her, killing my pet is FELONY animal cruelty, and if he got so much as a hairball I'd charge her with it. I also said I'd call the principal - yes she was a teacher! Ron was horrified, and kept begging me to calm down (remember, unmedicated too).
She stopped threatening the cat. She began parking in front of the house. I asked her, as politely as possible, to move. She said no. It culminated one day when she had completely blocked the street access. A big Metro van pulled up. The doorway is on the side. Ron was staggering down the driveway, and the vehicle had pulled up so far he was in the neighbor's yard (no access due to the car in front of our house). SHE came out. She asked the DRIVER if she needed to move, the driver said no. Ron, in the meantime, is staggering down the driveway, looking as bad as he is.
SHE starts yelling that I "Need to help him". I turned and said, "Do you see how hard you're making it for him? He could just walk right down the driveway but NO YOU HAVE TO PARK IN FRONT OF OUR HOUSE WHEN YOU HAVE A HUGE, EMPTY DRIVEWAY!" At this point, Ron stumbled on the edge of the curb. I yelled "If he falls, IT'S YOUR FAULT! I HOPE THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT!" She started yelling back as I walked away, but she never did it again. [ooh! I STILL get mad thinking about it six years later!]
In fact, Bubba brought home ANOTHER cat, and I added Frosty to the family. I am sure me getting another cat was the last straw for them. Ron was absolutely horrified, again. He said I was going to "start a war".
I don't know that I could have handled it any better, even medicated. I get very upset when I see people threatening those I love. Ron is absolutely horrified I will say the wrong thing, enrage a neighbor, and "We'll have to move". You have to grasp this before I tell you what's next.
So, Blue, the young guy next door, has a nice new truck with some really BAD speakers. I mean, these are the kind you can hear the bass throughout the whole subdivision. I'm not inclined to complain if it's a reasonable hour, but Ron's the "dour, glaring" type. He'll go out, sit on the porch, and give what I call "The Evil Blind Eye". The kid usually turns it down. This is ongoing, small issue really.
I have a new standard, if they are not parking in front of the house, invading my property, or threatening to kill the cat they are OK. [shrug] Medicated, I am a pretty relaxed and mellow person.
Last night, I went to bed around 6:30. I had to get up at 2:30 this morning. About 10 minutes later, here comes the bass. I start laughing - of course. It is too early for a "normal" request to turn it down or a call to the police. I have seen, if Ron doesn't react, Blue turns it down pretty quick. His sister probably yells at him if he wakes up the baby.
Ron, apparently, had some alcohol onboard. He was outraged. I heard him stomping up to the front of the house. He was cursing. "Ron," I told him "Don't curse him out. If you have to talk to him just ask him to turn it down." Remember all Ron's stuff about "Don't start a war" [snorting]
I don't know WHAT was said, but I kid you not, in my bedroom in the back of the house I heard two angry male voices shouting at each other, Ron cursing loudly, and then, as he came in the house he shouted "Yo Mama!" I was a little offended at that one. I have met the mother, she is a nice lady. Ay yi yi.
Of course Blue immediately turned down the stereo. [/sarcasm] No, he turned it UP. Ron called the police, going outside as he did so, and yelling. Blue turns it down. Ron comes inside again, slamming the door. AGH. Blue drove off after a while, then came home an hour later with the tunes cranked high. [laughing]
So, I ask, with eyebrow raised, what happened to Don't start a war? [pained groan] Alcohol makes us so much WISER, doesn't it?
Now, see, the way I'd handle it. "Oh, he likes Rap. Let's burn him a Gospel Rap CD. Then I will be able to listen to cool tunes on the speakers."
Now, I face an incredibly awkward encounter at some point in the next couple days. I will tell them the truth, Ron has a head injury and drinking problem. I will apologize.
That's all I can do. YIKE!
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