Heather the race traitor

I was told to take a day off once a week and forget about Ron.  I've been trying to do that lately. 

I didn't expect the skinhead. 

I slept in until about 8, then got up and took my shower, did my God time.  It was supposed to rain but it didn't.  I believe it will rain tonight because I have a headache now. 

Last night, I had stayed up late looking at Kindle Books and charging said Kindle.  I had accidentally let the battery run down. 

I should probably check my other devices. 

Yup, needed a charge.  I need to check them every couple weeks. 

I ended up buying something I had considered for a while, a HCSB Apologetics study Bible.  Basically, apologetics is "defending the faith" when someone asks "Who made God" or "Why does He allow evil?". 

I am not good at apologetics.  I prefer to focus on evangelism and Bible study.  I can gossip about Old Testament Kings and prophets, and do so with Ron.  It's a fun way to inform without preaching.  Ron loves the story of Elijah and the prophets of baal.  link

It is a good one, look it up if you're interested.  Only 20 verses. 

Anyway, I thought I might want to "bone up" (I always feel so sorry for those from other countries reading my blog, they must be baffled by my use of slang), on apologetics and the book was only $3.  Come on, I have $3 and it will provide a lot of reading. 

Then I looked around trying to find a craft book but nothing really grabbed me.  I prefer a "real" craft book when I am working on a project, anyway. 

Happily, today, one of my "real" craft books arrived.  It is mainly knitting stitches, some crochet. 

Let me talk to you about knitting.  I am what I would consider an "intermediate".  I have made hats and fingerless gloves on double pointed needles.  I made a lot of hats on a circular and then finished on double points. 

However, I wear, for my own personal use, a $2 acrylic/wool hat I found on amazon.  I've often thought they would be good hats to buy and donate to homeless in cold areas. 

In Houston, of course, anything below 70 degrees is "cold" and people dress accordingly.  I love this town. 

Here's a link if you are interested: no, forget that, they are $15 now.  $15!  I bought mine for $2 each! 

If I were handing them out, and I didn't, I wouldn't tell you.  I find it sad when people brag about their good deeds on Facebook or wherever.  God says in the Bible when you do that, you already have your reward.  It is better to keep good deeds private, and Ron and I do our best to do just that. 

I will say I will take much better care of my hats now, knowing I can't get them again.  $15!  Maybe if I lived in Chicago (I really wanted to, at one point, but everyone said the same thing "Heather, you hate the cold."). 

Anyway, I am what I would consider an intermediate knitter.  I can do a yarn over, increase, decrease, double points, straights, and circular.  I never made socks.  I can buy those.  I can knit and purl.  I work left-handed, according to the books. 

Crochet: I also consider myself intermediate.  I am a "hold it like a pencil" crocheter.  I made lace, which was probably the most complicated project.  I made dozens of simple afghans.  I made snowflakes and doilies, but not many.  I never made any hats.  Just afghans and the odd scarf. 

The first afghan I ever made, I made up my own stitch pattern of dc 6, chain 4.  I had some overlap in the stitches and I liked that.  It was a little denser than a granny square, which was my second project.  It was a spectacular creation of lime green and bright orange, with other colors.  I mainly remember the lime green and orange. 

It certainly woke me up in the morning.  I think Mr Gray (a cat) peed on it, and I couldn't get the smell out, so I got rid of it.  I left the first afghan at home when I moved out. 

I would say I am more comfortable with crochet, but I enjoy knitting.  Knitting, however, takes more concentration.  It is odd to type, but I have been crocheting for over 30 years, and only knitting (off and on at that) for 9.  I can sit and watch TV, working on a granny square, or talk to someone.  I can't do that when I'm knitting, yet. 

But practice makes perfect, and I haven't done any knitting in a couple years.  I'm amazed I can do garter stitch (my current project, although I like purling). 

I have plenty of yarn, so I didn't want to buy more.  I asked Ron about our cat food inventory, he has a bad habit of telling me we are out.  He said we were fine. 

So, I didn't need to do that. 

What about Lifeway?  I would love to get a case of Bible Promise books.  I concluded that shipping charges would be less expensive than hiring a cab to get me, and my treasures, home from Lifeway once the order came in.  Isn't that sad?  And they're only a couple miles from the house. 

If I could get anything from a local Christian, it would be help with rides like that.  Yes, we could take paratransit, but they make us wait an hour.  The store isn't even as big as my entire property, 6K square feet, and it would be awkward - IS awkward, waiting and explaining that we are the "losers" who can't drive. 

But Christianbook.com can do shipping for about $5 a case.  A cab ride home, with tip, is about $20.  [sigh] 

I didn't want to go to the coffee shop, I am a soda woman. 

Diet soda, of course. 

The kids next door erupted into the yard, with happy shrieks.  I had to get out. 

What did I want?  I wanted to sit and read my inspirational romance novel, drinking a large soda and eating a Sourdough Jack from Jack in the Box. 

But it's a fried hamburger. 

I want a Sourdough Jack. 

OK.  It's on the bus line, near the mall surrounded by drug dealing and gangs, but that doesn't scare me. 

I got my bus pass and stuck my romance novel in my back pocket.  I didn't bring my project, worried I might get food on it, and after all it's supposed to rain! 

So much for that, by the way. 

Ron gave me some money for a cab if I wanted one. 

I left and walked to the bus stop.  I walked down "the other side" of the street, avoiding a yard with vicious dogs, and another, nearly impassable, section.  I understand why the homeowner planted a thick hedge along the property line, but it's grown completely over the sidewalk.  I always worry I'm going to put my foot in a hole and break it, and I always hit my head on an overhanging tree branch. 

My new way worked much better.  I got to the bus stop and texted for the next pickup time, then realized, to my horror, I was waiting at the wrong bus stop! 

Properly medicated. 

I crossed the street, to the bus stop that got hit by a car and now leans at a 45 degree angle.  I talked to Ron on the phone for a little while and called the bus company about the sign.  They were very nice about it and took a fix it report. 

If Ron were walking, it would be a hazard for him hitting his head while walking with the white cane, but Ron can barely stand up these days. 

He had been bleeding again for a while, but it stopped. 

At least it's not cancer.  His colon is clean as a whistle according to two surgeons. 

My bus came and I pretended to push the bus stop pole to the upright position, then laughed as the driver stopped.  Even when I'm depressed, I can still laugh thanks to my medication. 

I had brought my "big meal" pills (PM dose) in a small bottle I kept in my left pocket.  We had a good ride. 

I went to the end of the line, then walked about 2 blocks to the restaurant.  I went in and the manager asked about my book (I was reading in line).  I explained the whole "Day out, caregiver" thing, which I'm doing a lot lately. 

Maybe God needs them to hear about it. 

I got my curly fries and sourdough jack.  I got a diet rootbeer because it didn't have caffeine.  I try to avoid caffeine after about 11 AM, if possible. 

I had to take an OTC headache pill around 5 PM for my headache, and it has caffeine.  I will probably be up for a while because of that. 

Anyway, I ate my food while reading most of my book, used the bathroom (acceptable) and got a refill on my rootbeer.  I called Ron and he wanted eggrolls and tacos. 

I was really skeptical about bringing him cold, fried, food, but he swore that's what he wanted.  I got them and some churro things (which may have been involved in the headache) as I left. 

I saw a white guy waiting at the bus stop.  He was a little heavy but seemed nice, until I heard his phone conversation: 

1. They were going to have to beat up a "poser" who had white power tats but not a member of the group.

Great.  He's an White Brotherhood member.  A latino man at the bus stop took one look at the "tats" and left the bus stop, standing behind it and 20 feet away. 

2. They were working on their Facebook page.

I sat there, a couple feet away, drinking my diet Root Beer, thinking, "You would be Most Unhappy if you knew I married a 'Black' man." I believe they call women like me "race traitors".

I don't see Ron as white or black.  I just see him as Ron.  If I label him in my head, and I don't, he's "Creole" - a mixture of black and French.  That's how I would describe him.  I would also mention a family tree search found Native and Spanish blood as well. 

I remember thinking "I am more scared of you than if you were a gang member or drug dealer".  They're not going to bother me in my $10 shoes.  He might. 

I have a wide, tungsten (cheap metal but shiny and scratch proof) wedding ring, and I was never so happy for it in my life.  I made sure it was visible as I held my soda. 

I was really happy to see him board another bus.

The latino guy never came back. 

I worked on my soda until the bus came.  I was distracted eating the last mini-churro and almost missed him.  I laughed as I boarded, saying "I'm glad you were paying attention!"

I sat down and didn't drink my soda until I deboarded.  I could get a $300 ticket if a transit cop caught me. 

I have better ways to spend my money.  I used Ron's cab fare money to buy his food. 

I got to my stop, got off, and walked back home.  It was cloudy but no imminent rain.  I had taken my pills with lunch so I didn't have to worry about them. 

When we got home, I gave Ron his food, which was apparently delicious even cold.  As long as he's happy. 

I finished reading my romance novel and took a nap. 

I used the pull-out, because the kids next door are "offa" school this week and they might want some more noisy play during my nap. 

I slept great, for almost 3 hours.  I am glad I have finally learned to sleep on the pull-out. 

I can always use some rest.  I am constantly fatigued from my medication.  Depression doesn't help either. 

Enough whining.  I woke up with a headache and took something, which worked. 

I will say the OTC Aspirin-Tylenol-Caffeine headache tablets work very well for me.  I find it sad I "have" to buy them in the 200 count bottle, though. 

Doc says my usage is acceptable.  So I won't worry. 

I unplugged my Kindle, finally charged, and did my usual internet things. 

Except email.  Please, not the email. 

Just now I went to roll up our exterior blinds because "It's going to rain tonight".  Yeah, right.  Anyway, I rolled them up.  While coming back around the house, I had to laugh when I passed the computer room.  I have a tiny gap in the curtains, because the cats like to sit in that window.  Through the gap, you can just glimpse my copy of "Kingdom of the Cults".  I find that very funny. 

One book I could never get into was the "Handbook of Spiritual Warfare".  It talked about people getting "infected" with bad spirits after a rape, etc.  It sounded like a bad episode of "Supernatural" - the TV show with the demon-fighting brothers.  It also, to me, smelled of blaming the victim. 

I will read anything, I literally read phone books when I was a kid, but I just couldn't get into that.  I have to figure maybe part of it was the Holy Spirit guarding me. 

I do believe in the Holy Spirit.  I believe many times my leadings, instincts, and inclinations come from Him.  Several times, I've walked up to a complete stranger and given them a Bible.  They all reacted positively. 

The odds of that are impossible, especially when you figure 90+% of the people on a Handout either reject me outright, or pointedly ignore me.  That's God, happening to use me, because I am willing and at hand. 

I don't kid myself I am anything more than that.